The Fisherman (18 page)

I have heard the throbbing cadence of the taskmaster's drum pounding out the rhythm for those chained to the oars on the Roman galleys as they glide past on the Great Sea. There was such a cadence to our final months with the Master. Though in truth it had always been there, it was far beyond my range of hearing until the morning I called him “Messiah.” And even then I could not yet hear it with my mind. But I believe my spirit sensed it—a distant, steady, relentless rhythm being drummed by an Almighty Hand upon the foundation of the world with two massive rough-hewn timbers formed in the shape of a cross.

The rhythm marked our pace and our destination—a hill just outside Jerusalem, a hill called Golgotha. Each step the Master took coincided perfectly with the cadence. With each step the volume increased a decibel or two. And each step brought him closer to the fulfillment of the purpose for which he came. I can hear it now, looking back with the mind of the Spirit. At the time I refused to accept the reality of its existence until I stood before that cross and felt the earth shake under my feet, saw the sun driven from the sky, and heard the hammered blows driving nails through the flesh of the Son of God.

But that day was still several months away, and Jesus had much he wanted to accomplish in those final months. The following day we packed up our camp and headed back to Galilee. He kept us close to himself as we traveled south, but his conversations with us were unlike the ones we were accustomed to. He wanted us educated. He wanted us prepared. He wanted us equipped with the truth. “Let these words sink into your ears; for the Son of Man is going to be delivered into the hands of men, and they will kill him, and he will be raised on the third day.”

It was hard stuff for us, in fact, impossible stuff at the time. It grieved us deeply to hear him speak this way. We found it impossible to think of Jesus dying. Though I kept my mouth shut, every one of those reaffirmations of his approaching death brought within me a renewed determination to make certain no such thing would ever take place. He would live or I would die attempting to save him.

Our return to Capernaum was unlike any we had known before. The miracle worker from Galilee was not open for business as usual. Another Passover Feast came and went during our travels in the north. Jesus' absence from Jerusalem at the feast, combined with his suspension of any additional mass meetings throughout Galilee, helped lull his enemies into believing he was complying with their wishes while at the same time provided Jesus with the time he needed for his final preparations.

For the next several weeks he spent a great deal of time with us alone in his house or walking with us by the sea. The masses were gone now, but there were still several hundred loyal followers who stayed close to us. Together we listened and learned. We heard and remembered his words to us then, though we did not understand them until after his departure. He was giving us the mental pillars for life in the Spirit. Who is greatest among us? It is the one who serves. Entrance into the kingdom comes only through humbling ourselves and entering as little children. We are the salt of the earth. Our Lord seeks us as a loving shepherd seeks his favorite little lamb lost on the mountainside. How often should we forgive? (I thought perhaps as many as seven times. He thought perhaps seventy times seven would be better.) If your brother offends you, go to him in private. Forgive others as we ourselves have been forgiven by our heavenly Father.

He was redefining our understanding of success and failure. Success in the kingdom of God came not from fighting for myself and my supremacy, it came from fighting for my brothers and sisters, fighting for my relationship with them, fighting for their health and strength and survival. He was teaching us how to act toward one another as he himself was acting toward us. He was teaching us what it means to love.

Following our several weeks of semiseclusion in Galilee, we returned to Perea beyond the Jordan for one final public teaching tour in that area. The people were thrilled at his return and responsive to his ministry beyond even our high expectations. They loved him, they honored him, they listened to him, and they reminded all of us just a little bit of what he could have given to our nation if only our hearts had been open to him.

Then, from Perea, he turned his face one last time toward Jerusalem. The Lamb of God was coming, at the time and place chosen by him, to offer himself as the perfect sacrifice for the sins of the world. He would stage his final entrance in the city of David in such a way as to generate blinding terror in our nation's leadership. He would drive them to perform their role in his death at a time and place they never would have willingly selected for themselves. Jesus' offer of himself would be no hushed-up, hidden, convenient removal of an unsubmissive country rebel. His death would be a noisy, bloody, brutal affair, witnessed by thousands, reported in vivid detail throughout the land.

What would it take to create such terror in his enemies? What if they witnessed what appeared to be the entire nation marching alongside the Master as he entered Jerusalem, flinging their clothing on the ground before him, proclaiming him their rightful king? What if his name and his praises flowed from the lips of every pilgrim in the city at the great annual Feast of the Passover?

Jesus' preparations for his final entrance into the city of David began with the most highly organized and structured teaching tour of his earthly ministry. He began by designating and educating thirty-five teams of two. He equipped all seventy of us with the ability to heal and with authority over the demonic world. He then assigned each team to specific towns and villages throughout the nation, even providing us with the words we were to speak. We were to be his heralds, proclaiming the coming of the king, promising his personal appearance, and presenting the people of Israel with a taste of what he would bring when he came.

It all looked so different to me at the time, of course, seeing only through the eyes of the flesh. I saw the surging wave of Jesus' popularity in response first to our arrival and then to his. I heard the open calls for his kingship. I felt the resurgence of my own hopes for Jesus' rise to political power. It all seemed so right, so powerful, so unstoppable.

Even as he placed the final touches on his public popularity, he continued to equip us with the truth. He was going to Jerusalem. He would be killed when he arrived. Following his death he would come back to life. But with such a wave of popularity surrounding us, his words seemed like foolishness. What he was prophesying simply could not happen. It was obvious to all of us. After nearly four years of careful preparation, the nation was finally ours for the taking.

We all went out. We all met with spectacular success. And we all came back filled with jubilant optimism for ourselves and for our future with the Master. Following our return Jesus departed with us almost immediately on his final great tour throughout the nation. I will never forget the words with which Jesus began that final tour. They were words spoken by him before but never with such urgency. They were words chosen to publicly proclaim his heart's longing for his beloved Israel. “Come to me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.”

And come they did, by the thousands! His public teaching throughout those final weeks captivated our nation as never before. He taught us from the example of the good Samaritan. He showed us how to pray. He blasted the unresponsive multitudes in those cities where his greatest works had been done. He warned us repeatedly of the contagious corruption of the religious spirit within the Pharisees and Sadducees. He promised special recognition for those who confessed him before men and warned us that the message of himself would sometimes bring great divisiveness between people. He told us the story of a second son who squandered his inheritance, of a father who waited eagerly for the son's return, and of an elder brother who hated the wayward boy's reconciliation with the father when it came.

With parable after parable and teaching after teaching, he fed us sweet, rich gulps of truth. Some of it was designed to equip us for what would shortly take place in Jerusalem. Some of it prepared us for the life we now live in his Spirit. Some of it even offered us a glimpse into the events surrounding his future return.

Some of it, however, was designed to inflame and infuriate our nation's religious leadership. When a group of scribes and Pharisees came asking for a sign from heaven, Jesus' response left no room for misinterpretation: “An evil and adulterous generation craves for a sign; but no sign will be given to it except the sign of Jonah the prophet; for just as Jonah was three days and three nights in the belly of the sea monster, so the Son of Man will be three days and three nights in the heart of the earth.” He then went on to tell them that, at the final judgment, the men of Nineveh and the Queen of the South would stand up and condemn this generation because Nineveh repented in response to Jonah's preaching, and the Queen of the South came from the ends of the earth to hear the wisdom of Solomon; and yet something far greater than Jonah or Solomon was here.

When another Pharisee challenged him for failing to follow the ceremonial cleansing ritual before eating, Jesus responded with a swift public rebuke condemning the Pharisees for their careful cleaning of the outsides of cups and platters while their own hearts were filled with robbery and wickedness. He said they carefully tithed exactly 10 percent of the little plants growing in their gardens yet disregarded justice and the love of God. He then went on to condemn them for their love of public praise and affirmation, warning his listeners that these men were like “concealed tombs,” filled with death and decay.

And so the battle raged on. The lines between the two sides were clearly drawn. There could be no compromise, no reconciliation. With blow after blow Jesus drove his adversaries deeper and deeper into their rage and terror. And all the time his popularity with the masses intensified.