Meeting Jesus: Lent 1 reflections

The crowds were building around him, as intrigue also grew. The spirits that troubled people knew him, named him – Jesus of Nazareth: Holy One of God. Whispers ran from mouth to ear, in market places, over meal tables, on the steps of synagogues, of this one who spoke with an authority they’d not experienced before.

In my town, Capernaum, in Galilee, he’d been in the synagogue when we gathered. Encountered such a spirit in one who stumbled through the door. He had spoken, been heard, been obeyed.

Through the grasping crowd, my wife calmly drew close to Jesus of Nazareth and offered an invitation to our home for lunch. How Rivkah made our meagre pantry provide enough for her, me, our growing son, and now Hadassah, her mother, and whoever she decided needed a meal and company – or in this case, refuge – I don’t know. She’s a magician. I had been as keen as Rivkah was for her mum to live with us when her dad died and her brother’s wife seemed very un-keen to help. But I was afraid we wouldn’t have enough. The mooring fees and catch taxes are hard enough when your nets are full, and it had been months since our nets had been full.

He came to our home for lunch, and we let Jesus sit while we prepared, without chattering away to him. Hadassah was still in bed when we’d got home, with the headache that had been worsening since yesterday. Checking on her again, Rivkah discovered a fever developing. Reluctantly, knowing our plan had been to offer him refuge from all the demands, I did talk to Jesus about our concerns. He went to my mother-in-law and stood beside her as she lay in bed; he rebuked the fever as he had rebuked harmful spirits, and it left her that moment. Hadassah rose and served us in her usual caring way as if she’d not been unwell at all!

Not long after lunch, the people started crowding around our home, and Jesus also served those who came to him with great care. He stayed with us that night, and left the house as I went out to the boat. We didn’t see him again.

Until, some days later, Jesus’ wandering brought him – and the crowds – to the lake where we fished, me in my boat with my son, and James and John bar Zebedee in the other. We were at the shoreline, washing nets that hadn’t got dirty in days. Jesus saw the boat, and climbed in; then he saw me and I could see the recognition on his face as he smiled, Simon, can we push your boat out a way, so I can teach the people? Better view, I guess.

He finished his teaching for the day, then turned his back to the shore, stretching before taking a seat again. Eyes closed, he breathed in deep, lifting his face to the sun. Opening them again, he looked around and noticed the lovely clean and empty nets. He seemed to be aware how empty, and for how long. Simon, let’s go out a way further, and put your net out.

I widened my eyes a little – really? We’ve been there, done that, they’re not interested today. Jesus said nothing, but met my doubt with his own look of authoritative expectation. Alright. If you say so.

I don’t know where they came from, or where they’d been the past few weeks, but all of a sudden my net was full to bursting, the rope stretching almost to breaking and my son and I struggling to hold it steady, let alone haul it into the boat. We turned to the shore and signalled to James and John, to get their boat and net out here as quick as they could – and we filled theirs, too! Both boats were almost sinking with the load.

I confess, this scared me. Who was this man?! I mean, healing people, sure, it was miraculous; and speaking with authority so that spirits and fevers obeyed him – but the fish? Had he somehow called to the fish and they obeyed?! It terrified me. And I suddenly felt utterly unworthy to be in this man’s presence – and I said so, or possibly shouted so.

Simon. Don’t be afraid, but now on you’re going to be fishers of people, you, and James and John, with me.

He stayed with us again that night, and then it was a long time before I was in my own bed again. We knew, Rivkah and I, that I had to go with him, had to accept this call or command on my life.

I am Peter – yes, he changed even my name – disciple of Jesus of Nazareth, Holy One of God. This is how my story with him begins.

Well, it’s how Peter’s story begins in Luke’s telling of it. What do you notice?

Pause

I noticed this week for the first time that Peter – still Simon – meets Jesus before that encounter on the boat. Jesus has already been in Simon’s home. Met his family. Healed his mother-in-law – before he calls Simon to be a fisher of people.

Does Jesus seek Simon out? The first time they meet, I have Simon’s wife, who I name Rivkah, issue the invitation. But coming to Simon’s house could have been at Jesus’ instigation, as it is in so many other stories – I’m coming to your house today, he says more than once.

And then, on the beach, accident or design? Has he come back looking for people to travel with him? Has Jesus’ experience of Simon suggested to him that this is a man with the capacity to learn the Way and bring others along with him?

And notice that Simon’s protestations of unworthiness are offered in response to the miraculous he witness in and through Jesus – the numinous we discussed last week, perhaps. But that when Jesus calls him to follow, he knows he has to go. No more protestations then.

I noticed for the first time that James and John, sons of Zebedee, are Peter’s partners in the fishing business, according to Luke.

The comments in our Wandering Heart materials showed me that for these fishermen, life was precarious. Too many empty nets leads to a destitute life. How important is it, then, that Jesus sees their empty nets and fills them? How important is it that Simon abandons his family, when life is already precarious?

In my re-telling of Luke’s account, I have given Simon a son, a growing but not quite grown son. Perhaps he is old enough to take the boat out and care for the women? Perhaps that haul of fish is enough to buy the families left behind a measure of security for a while?

I have imagined Simon’s wife and mother-in-law as generous and caring. Perhaps they will receive the care they’ve offered to others. Perhaps they begin the way of life described for followers of Jesus in the letters and Acts – the mutual care and sharing so that all have enough?

This next two months we will get to know Simon – or Peter – better. We will pay attention and notice anew. We will wonder, imagine, and explore the gaps in his story together.

Each week, we have a piece of visual art. Respecting our licensing agreement, I won’t share that image here. Of the image for today, artist Rev Lisle Gwynn Garrity says:

‘Despite Peters resistance, grace seeks him out. … He can’t escape the fact that God’s goodness and mercy will pursue him all the days of his life (Psalm 23:6). The river rushes in. The question for Peter – and for each of us – is will he follow where it leads?’

A Sanctified Art Wandering Heart Lenten Devotional Week 1, p 6.

Mercy seeks us. The river rushes in. Will we follow where the river of goodness and mercy lead us?

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