John's Story (9 page)

“And He said to those who sold doves, ‘Take these things away! Do not make My Father’s house a house of merchandise!’

“That’s when James grabbed my garment and pulled me close, whispering the old Scripture,
‘Zeal for Your house has eaten Me up.’
”

“Where was that written, teacher?” Polycarp said. “And what does it mean?”

“Jesus had read it to us Himself from the Psalms and explained that at the time of the writing, David was being attacked from all sides because of his zeal toward the house of God and his defense of the Lord. You know Paul wrote of this to the believers in Rome, quoting David further, ‘The reproaches of those who reproached You fell on Me.’ Well, I tell you, Polycarp, that’s what we feared would happen, that the Roman soldiers would intercede on behalf of the money changers and make an example of Jesus. But the Lord had somehow succeeded in not making a scene. He was simply determined and forthright, and the offenders were alarmed that He spoke to them as if they reported to Him.”

“That must have been amazing.”

“As I say, we had not seen Him angry. He had been so kind and friendly and engaging, carrying himself as a much older, wiser man than one of about age thirty. He was but five years older than I, and yet I always felt I was in the presence of a sage.”

“But when something irritated him…”

John nodded. “Yes, His blood could boil. But it was always over the reputation of His Father.”

“How did the merchants respond?”

“Why, of course they wanted to know who He thought He was. They said, ‘What sign do You show to us, since You do these things?’

“Jesus said, ‘Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.’

“And the Jewish leaders said, ‘It has taken forty-six years to build this temple, and will You raise it up in three days?’”

“That’s what I would have said,” Polycarp said. “What did He mean?”

“He was speaking of the temple of His body. And while I hesitate to get ahead of myself, later, when He had risen from the dead, we remembered that He had said this to us, and we believed the Scripture and the words He had spoken.”

“This all came back to you at His resurrection?”

John nodded. “Indeed, and it was of great comfort to us. Gradually all these memories came to us, and we marveled at the truths He had scattered in our paths every day of those three years. He often said that those who had ears would hear—meaning they would understand, of course. But we later recognized that we must not have had ears. He tried to tell us many times that He had been sent only to do the will of His Father, and He even made clear that this would mean His own death. But we heard only what we wanted to hear.”

“Now, you said that the authorities were not aware of what He had done at Passover, but with the city teeming, word must have spread to the people.”

“Oh, yes! And many believed in His name when they saw the signs He did. But Jesus did not commit Himself to them, because He knew all men, and had no need that anyone should testify of man, for He knew what was in man.”

“I am not following, teacher. What are you saying?”

“You rightly question this, son, as I did at the time. I recall being perplexed that Jesus did not seem to revel in the adoration of the crowds. He was already healing people and speaking such profound mysteries that people began flocking to hear and see Him wherever He went. I could only put myself in His place and imagine how fulfilling it would have been to have people gaze with such wonder and devotion. Yet it was clear He did not go out of His way to endear Himself to any. He seemed above it, not with any air of conceit, but rather as if He distrusted mere humans. We disciples had already proven less than worthy companions, and if we who were beginning to know Him so well could not be thoroughly trusted, He certainly wasn’t about to cater to the whims of the public.”

“But you say”—Polycarp referred back to his writing—“that ‘He knew all men, and had no need that anyone should testify of man, for He knew what was in man.’ I realize that means He didn’t need their applause or their affirmation, but what was it that He ‘knew’ was ‘in man’?”

“Oh, I believe we know, do we not, son? Were we not both reminded of what is truly in us, at our core, when we presented ourselves to the living God for His service? I hate to see myself in His light. And if we who have given our lives for His service can be brought so low by such a peering into our souls, imagine what must be in the hearts of people who had just been introduced to Him.

“All they knew of Him were His impressive speeches and His miracles. No one I know had witnessed a miracle in our lifetime. These people did not know the Man. And any lauding of His person or character would have sprung from their own, frail, human perspectives. No, the Messiah was not looking for the approval of men.”

“That must have frustrated them,” Polycarp said. “I can envision them, as I can see myself, hoping to get near Him, to speak a word or hear one directed solely at me. I would have wanted to be able to say I had interacted with the Man who had become the spectacle at Passover in Jerusalem.”

John nodded. “Yes. I confess I myself was proud to be seen in His very presence and recognized as one of His. As I reflect on it, however, I doubt anyone really looked at the men surrounding Him. He alone was the object of the crowd’s desire.”

T
hat Tuesday evening, John excused Polycarp to join Ignatius for the teaching of the people. The crowd the night before had been larger than the Lord’s Day gathering, and the deaconate felt Polycarp was needed in case even more arrived for this meeting.

John took his dinner alone in his quarters and found himself strangely melancholy. He tried to put out of his mind the discomfort in his chest and blamed his mood on the fact that he was used to having his young disciple with him. Polycarp, always a bright student, had proved an ideal companion for this difficult work, asking just the right questions and exhibiting a contagious enthusiasm for every anecdote. John looked forward to getting to get her with him and with Ignatius again before bedtime.

John had been told that some had asked for him the evening before, so he was not surprised when a small boy was dispatched to seek him out again now. “Oh, please tell them that I appreciate their kind invitation but that I am in the middle of a complex project and must beg their pardon. Perhaps one evening later this week I will feel up to joining them.”

John lit another small lamp on the desk and reviewed Polycarp’s careful handwriting. He reminded himself to encourage the young man. The script was clear and legible, and as John read it over he was again transported to Galilee and the most remarkable season of his life. And he knew what story must come next, one that only he was privy to, and thus one that had not appeared on papyrus before. Fortunately, John believed he remembered every detail, and short of that, he trusted the Holy Spirit to remind him.

Hearing no music from below, John realized that Ignatius and Polycarp had eschewed the singing that evening in the interest of immediately digging in to the text of one of Paul’s epistles. The old man was grateful for Ignatius and his willingness to devote this time to John’s own flock. Ignatius had come to faith and to a calling to serve God from a place almost as unusual as that of the missionary Paul. He had not been religiously devout, however, as Paul had. That zealousness had led to Paul—then known as Saul—persecuting and even killing Christians. Ignatius had been thoroughly pagan, but he too had been a reviler of believers.

That he had come to faith in Christ from such a background, and the obvious change in his behavior, allowed John to trust him implicitly to render Paul’s writings understandable for the believers. If only the three of them—John, Ignatius, and Polycarp—could make the Ephesian saints as interested in shunning the heresies of Cerinthus!

J
OHN NODDED OFF
and roused two hours later when sounds reached him of people chatting and milling about on their way out of the house. Many still had questions for the leaders, and John was pleased to hear both Ignatius and Polycarp promise to get to those another night. Soon their welcome footsteps mounted the stairs.

“Ah, Ignatius,” John said, as the bishop set a plate of fruit and cheese on his table and laid a small knife beside it, “you always seem to anticipate my needs.”

Polycarp smiled and Ignatius said, “Truth be told, I am merely the bearer of the vittles. The idea was the redhead’s here.”

“My thanks to you then, Polycarp,” John said. “Please, gentlemen, sit. I want to tell you a story neither of you has heard before. Indeed, I do not believe I have shared it with anyone but my brother so many years ago. Are you up to it?”

“Up to it?” Ignatius said. “Teacher, after what Polycarp has related to me already, I feel as if I will burst if I cannot sit here whilst you dictate some of this. Please. My ears are yours until you have run out of things to say.”

“Or until I collapse onto my bed.”

“Shall I record this?” Polycarp said.

“Oh, I don’t know. My intention was to simply tell you both what happened, and then we can cover it tomorrow. Let me begin without having to slow for the quill, and you tell me whether it’s worth recording.”

Ignatius sat at the desk, slicing the fruit and cheese, eating some and handing pieces to the other two. Polycarp sat on John’s bed. The old man, as was his custom, paced as he spoke, sometimes with a chunk of food tucked in his cheek.

“Often Jesus would ask one or more of us to stay with Him for an evening when He had to be out after dark. More than once He hinted that the night would come when He would be taken from us, but we did not want to hear that and told ourselves—at least James and I did—that He was speaking symbolically, trying to tell us something about the coming kingdom that we did not understand. Of course, it eventually became clear that what we did not understand was the simple truth of what He was saying. And as you know, the night did come when He was arrested and led away away before our eyes.

“But one late afternoon after He had spent a few hours telling us of the Father, we enjoyed a hot meal, cooked by Peter.” John smiled at the memory. “He could cook on an open fire as well as any man I ever knew, but I suspect the Lord frequently chose him just to give him something to do to keep him quiet. Curious? Peter had more questions than the rest of us combined.

“Jesus had a way of moving about during a meal, getting a bit of time with each of us. Sometimes He merely asked how we were, whether we were understanding His teaching, that kind of thing. I cannot speak for the others, but He always made me feel cherished. When He was speaking with me I felt as if I were the only person in the world to Him.

“He had spent a few moments with Thomas, and then Nathanael, before I saw Him whispering to my brother. I didn’t mean to stare, but I noticed James shake his head and shrug, then nod toward me. I looked away, but soon Jesus joined me and asked that I walk with Him.

“I hate to admit this, gentlemen, but I was filled with pride whenever He did that. You would have thought that our spending that much time with a Man we knew was the Son of God would cure us of jealousies, but anytime Jesus spoke privately with one of us, the others wondered what was going on and why someone had been singled out. As I moved away from the group with Him, I knew all eyes were on us.

“He said, ‘John, I have been asked to meet in secret after dark with a member of the Sanhedrin, and I need someone to accompany Me.’

“‘Well!’ I said. ‘I would be honored. But the Sanhedrin?’

“‘Verily,’ He said, ‘I must tell you I asked others first, as I prefer an older man. But they are otherwise occupied, and—’

“I know. James has promised our father that he will—”

“‘And so I must ask if you are available to serve Me in this way.’

“‘Certainly, Lord.’

“‘My wish is that it not be obvious I have brought anyone along. You will stay out of sight, within earshot, and come to my aid only if I call for you.’

“‘I understand. You do not suspect this man, do you?’

“‘On the contrary, beloved…’

“I know I have told you this, Polycarp, but it was not at all uncommon for Him to call me that. And forgive me if still more than a half century later I fight this pervasive conceit, but I do not recall His calling another of the twelve the same. Sometimes He addressed crowds as ‘beloved,’ but I was the only individual….

“Anyway, He assured me He believed this member of the Sanhedrin was a sincere seeker after the things of God.”

Ignatius stopped in mid-bite. “Who was this?”

“Nicodemus.”

Polycarp perked up. “Wasn’t he the Pharisee who spoke up for the Lord before his colleagues?”

“And privately helped bury Him?” Ignatius added.

“The same.”

John noticed that the eating had stopped, the rest of the food remained on the plate, and Ignatius, apparently unaware the knife was still in his hand, appeared rapt. “So Nicodemus had a private meeting with Jesus…”

“Yes, and I was close by and heard every word.”

“Tell us!”

“Trade places with me, Ignatius,” Polycarp said. “Do you not agree I should get this down?”

“I do indeed. John, are you willing? Or should it wait until the morrow when your strength has been renewed?”

“Let me cover it this night. It is all coming back to me. Nicodemus proved an elderly man, dressed formally in his religious garb, and sporting a long, pure-white beard. He was articulate and thoughtful, respectful in his conversation. He said, ‘Rabbi, we know that You are a teacher come from God; for no one can do these signs that You do unless God is with him.’

“Jesus said, ‘Most assuredly, I say to you, unless one is born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.’

“Nicodemus said, ‘How can a man be born when he is old? Can he enter a second time into his mother’s womb and be born?’

“Jesus said, ‘Most assuredly, I say to you, unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God. That which is born of the flesh is flesh, and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit. Do not marvel that I said to you, “You must be born again.” The wind blows where it wishes, and you hear the sound of it, but cannot tell where it comes from and where it goes. So is everyone who is born of the Spirit.’

“Nicodemus said, ‘How can these things be?’

“You see, gentlemen, though Nicodemus was a sincerely religious man and devout in his own way, he didn’t understand that Jesus was talking about entering the
spiritual
kingdom. Christ had come to make it possible for people to enter into this kingdom by putting their faith in Him. You can plainly see what He was saying: that just as we must be born physically into this world, it is essential that we be born spiritually to get into God’s spiritual kingdom. In turn we are then guaranteed entrance someday into the physical kingdom God is preparing for those who love and receive Him by faith.

“Jesus said to Nicodemus, ‘Are you the teacher of Israel, and do not know these things? Most assuredly, I say to you, We speak what We know and testify what We have seen, and you do not receive Our witness. If I have told you earthly things and you do not believe, how will you believe if I tell you heavenly things? No one has ascended to heaven but He who came down from heaven, that is, the Son of Man who is in heaven. And as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life.’”

“Excuse me, teacher,” Ignatius said, clearly moved, “but Jesus was speaking of Himself, was He not?”

“Of course, but at that time I had no idea what He meant about being lifted up, though I understood that men were required to believe in Him to inherit eternal life. And what He said next tells His entire story in merely a few words, and I have quoted it to thousands in the years hence. ‘For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life. For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through Him might be saved.

“‘He who believes in Him is not condemned; but he who does not believe is condemned already, because he has not believed in the name of the only begotten Son of God. And this is the condemnation, that the light has come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil. For everyone practicing evil hates the light and does not come to the light, lest his deeds should be exposed. But he who does the truth comes to the light, that his deeds may be clearly seen, that they have been done in God.’”

John moved near Polycarp and steadied himself against the desk. Ignatius immediately rose. “Here, sir. Take to your bed. That had better be enough for one day.”

I
T TOOK JOHN
longer than usual to fall asleep that night, his memories having transported him so far into the past.