Читать книгу Decisive Encounters - Roberto Badenas - Страница 8

3

The Call

The lake shines under the morning sun, dazzled by the white hamlet of the fishing town and the luminous sand of the beach. Its blue reflection is slightly broken by the breeze, which scatters a flight of seagulls over the still of the waters.1

Leaning against his boat, in the elusive shade of the sails, a young fisherman prepares his nets, while keeping watch over, on a rustic reed bed, a string of fish set out to dry.2

Repairing knots is not a pleasant task, and least of all after an evening of a fruitless catch.

With a tired gesture, Simon drops the old net on the sand and swipes the back of his arm across his forehead, pushing his wet curls back. His exposed back, weather-beaten by the elements, shudders for an instant, beaded with sweat.

Always the same, every day: in the evening, fishing; in the morning, to the market; then, to repair the nets; and much later, to try to sleep . . . to start again by nightfall. And like so, day after day, always the same. As if his life were trapped in nets even more tangled than those in his hands.

If only we could purchase new netting, we would not have to spend so much time each day repairing these, so worn and torn. But times are bad and loans are difficult to repay. . . .

Simon remains still, with his gaze lost in the horizon. The gleaming of the sun over the water forces him to half close his dream-filled eyes. He would prefer not to be a mere fisherman all his life, tethered to an old boat and some fragile nets. Especially now that he got married and must support his wife and his mother-in-law.

To be a fisherman in Capernaum is to doom oneself to a monotonous succession of nights fishing and of days struggling with runaway sleep. It is to continue being embroiled in a hopeless struggle against misery. Nothing can satisfy the desires of a heart like his, thirsty for adventures and (why not?) for greatness.

Simon dreams, just like some of his fellow fishermen, of getting out of there and filling his inner emptiness with something great. But the only incentive of each workday is the uncertain catch with which to fill the baskets that his wife takes every morning to the market: some days more, others less, but always the same routine.

Except today, as the Teacher whom his brother Andrew follows has approached him and has asked to borrow His boat. He wanted to speak more thoroughly with a group of followers, who absorb His words and do not let him leave the jetty. The fame of the Galilean has not ceased to spread throughout the region. A mixed crowd wants to hear in person from the man about whom incredible things are said.

Because the words of the Teacher have such charm that they ensnare like nets.

Many still remain there, unable to say goodbye, while the children splash around amid laughter and games along the beach.

Leaning on the boat, barefoot in the water, this tireless man addresses, friendly and patient, the people who crowd around him yearning for words of life. And every so often, extending His hand to the surface of the water, He splashes the little ones who run around teasing him, without caring that the edge of His robe gets wet.

Returning to his task, Simon’s attention is drawn back to his tangled knots.

The fisherman continues waiting for a decisive event that will separate him from his ties and transform his monotonous existence into an exciting adventure. Something similar to what his brother believes to have found by following the new Teacher, that rabbi whose charm he can’t seem to escape.

Other than that, nothing seems to change in his harsh life.

At the port of Capernaum, in this small inland lake, merchant ships will never arrive from distant lands, through which Simon—who has never been able to leave the surrounding areas—would like to travel.

Perhaps the army . . . The Romans continue recruiting soldiers for expeditions of conquest in remote regions. Who knows if thanks to Rome he could achieve a bit of glory, and his name would remain immortalized forever in the history of the world. But now that he is married, that sounds too unreal, and those chimeras soon vanish from his mind, erased like footprints in the sand, washed away by the incessant breaking of the waves at his feet.

His chest, weathered by the water and the sun, slowly rises in a nostalgic sigh and slowly sinks back down, defeated and helpless, such torrent of contained energy, that he does not find—and fears never finding—a channel whereby it would be worthwhile overflowing.

Sitting on the sand, Simon continues repairing the nets, while the sun slides over his tanned skin and sketches elusive shapes upon the rhythmic movement of his robust arms. His thoughts wander without rhyme or reason, crashing against the invisible prison walls of his reality: doomed to be a fisherman his entire life, depending everyday on a basket of fish. His future is discerned at the same time so predictable and uncertain like the waves upon which he risks his life every night to take his measly sustenance from the sea.3

But that is how the few inhabitants of that fishing town live: He, his brother, his parents, Zebedee and his children, his friends . . . Simon sometimes speaks to them about the sharp sting of his discontent and of his mad desire for improvement. His friends support him, but the burden of work itself keeps them from supporting his dreams, and they allow themselves to be led by the routine without thinking about anything other than daily sustenance, which they must at any cost go out in search of over the waves of this modest lake.

That same night the boats were already fishing when the moon appeared, in an exiguous crescent that hardly made it possible to view the silhouettes of the ships on the waves. Simon had waited for the right moment to cast the net. Upon the agreed sign, in silence, he went about as usual: releasing the mooring and slowly lowering, without noise, the weights from the side of the ship concealed by the shadows.

From the other boats arrived the stifled murmur of the same maneuver, as every night. Then came the more sensitive work of quickly hoisting the netting before the fish could escape. The catch depended in large part on the speed and skill of such maneuver. Simon was a skillful fisherman who knew his trade better than did most.

When he sensed the sign of apparent tugs, he raised the net in one sudden stroke. But it was empty. He had to try again, once again lowering the netting over the side of the boat. Having failed, the fisherman repeated this fruitless operation several times throughout the night.

Simon was exhausted. The joints in his arms were hurting, and that backache was striking again. The bitter taste of defeat burned his parched lips.

The cool wind of daybreak made his perspiring body quiver, exposing tiredness and the anger of failure. In a last attempt, he pulled from the rigs. This time, they offered resistance. His boggling eyes opened even wider to see the silvery reflections of the desired catch emerging to the surface. But a muted scrape breached the net, and it turned up empty and torn, perhaps ripped apart by the mast of an old sunken ship.

The catch, until now fruitless, had now become impossible.

The exiguous moon had disappeared. Shrouded by darkness, Simon dropped himself onto the wet nets, and could not hold back his tears of anger. He swore to himself that, if he could, he would leave the fishing.

It was beginning to get light and at the glare of dawn, the fishermen returned, silent and glum, to the dock.

Along with his brother and his friends, he had stayed to repair the nets, attempting to delay the terrible moment of returning home with empty baskets, without fish and with no enthusiasm whatsoever.

And it was then when the Teacher arrived.

Strangers usually did not arrive too early to that beach, but Andrew and John recognized Him on the spot and ran to meet Him. Simon, inhibited, kept looking at that unique rabbi who, some days ago, had dared to kid him about his name . . .

Wow, you’re name is Simon Bar Jonah —He had told him. That of being an “obedient son of the dove” sounds good or that of “faithful follower of Jesus.” I hope that you are less of a pessimist that the old prophet . . . I see you as tough rather than meek. It would suit you better to be named Kepa,4 let’s say, Peter: What do you think about Beach Pebble?

The fisherman, disconcerted, did not know what to respond. Because in reality that is how he saw himself, like a beach pebble, worn by routine, unable to move from the shore on his own. His brother later explained to him that the new Teacher felt emboldened to change names because He was determined to transform lives.5

Intrigued by the charm of the mysterious rabbi, He could not resist when the rabbi asked to borrow his boat that same morning.

What does that man have that makes Him so irresistible, so convincing? His demeanor, His resolve, that air of knowing what He wants, an I don’t know what in the glance . . . That is how he would like to be. Yes, he wanted to be like Him, with that moving personality.

And while pondering it, he notices that his heart beats stronger. That Teacher who had already transformed the life of his brother was now starting to disrupt him as well.

The Teacher has finally finished speaking with the people, and proceeds with resolve along the shore. Andrew and his friends accompany Him. In the glorious joy of the morning, His white tunic flutters in the wind, like the sail of a ship without mooring.

With a wandering gaze, as if scanning the horizon, the Teacher abruptly stops, and advances toward Simon. The latter, embarrassed about having left his work to catch a glimpse of the visitor, lowers his head and picks up the net in an astonished manner, acting like trying to repair it.

A strange emotion overwhelms him to the point of not feeling completely in control of his actions. He can’t understand why the arrival of the Teacher has managed to confound him to this point. From the first time he saw Jesus, his image does not stop recurring in his dreams, and each one of His phrases penetrates his heart and makes it beat. As His words seem to have a life of their own6 and to fuel his dreams.

Determined, the Teacher approaches the fisherman.

“There you have your boat, Peter (The Teacher insists on calling him by that name). I appreciate your having lent it to me.”

And immediately afterward, he seeks to make eye contact and tells him with a smile, involving his partners in the plan:

“I see that fishing turned out bad. Why don’t you gather the nets and go back out to deep sea? Try and cast them again, but from the right side.”7

In other circumstances, Simon would have said that trying to fish at such an odd hour was madness, but he refrains this time, and replies, shyly:

“Teacher, after toiling all night we have not caught anything. But if you say so, I will cast the net in your name.”

Simon warily looks around, hoping that none of his fellow fishermen see him, and he feels somewhat ridiculous going back to fish in broad daylight. But his brother and his friends enthusiastically lead the way. Perhaps the unconscious desire to escape the magnetism of the Nazarene compels him to rig out the boat and start rowing against all logic.

As he sets out from the shore, Simon can’t help to turn around and, out of the corner of his eye, look at the strange Teacher, who is still standing on the sand, directing the operation, all the while displaying His splendid white teeth, as if he could see beyond what could be seen in plain view.

Yes, there, to the right.

At the motion of the Nazarene, the fishermen cast the recently repaired nets, as always, like so many times that evening. But upon raising them . . . Simon cannot believe it! They are astir from an incredible catch! He does not understand anything that is happening. This is more than a miracle.

The silvery fish leap splashing him in the face, sparkling under the rays of the sun. He has never seen a larger catch! Finally, they will be able to buy new nets, and if the locals arrive promptly to lend a hand, and they together can drag the fish to the beach without the net getting torn again—he might even be able to buy a new boat!

Following the indications of the mysterious Teacher, Simon thinks that his lifelong dream is becoming reality. This catch exceeds the best he could have ever imagined. His friends arrive with two more barges to assist him, and the three boats filled with fish are in danger of sinking under the weight of their precious cargo. Perhaps, despite everything, the life of a fisherman is not so unrewarding after all.

The return to the coast is a triumphant entrance, a stellar moment in the humdrum of his existence. Panting with excitement, Simon exults amid his partners’ cries of joy. The jubilation is such that a crowd of curious, local women, intrigued fishermen and lightly dressed small children show up to greet the boats, carrying one basket after another that are slowly filled with the jumpy fish.

Radiant and agitated, Simon struggles from one spot to another enjoying that hour of glory, that sudden wealth, which has turned him into a hero.

When the nets, which have miraculously resisted the pull of so much weight, become empty at last, and the baskets have disappeared to the market over the women’s heads and on the vigorous arms of the men, Simon turns toward the Teacher, who remains there, as if waiting for him. Barefoot on the beach, He entertains himself by returning several fish to the water that were rejected by the fishermen due to their small sizes, and restlessly leap as they sparkle over the pebbles.

Simon goes deeper into the lake to tidy himself up a little, relishing the pleasure of feeling the coolness of the water rising in soothing waves on his tired body, soiled with algae, sweat and sand.

Upon emerging with a cleaner body, his glance is caught by the cheerful and piercing eyes of the Teacher, who is still waiting for him. Then, he hears him express an unexpected invitation:

“If you follow me, Peter, one day you will fish for men.”

Simon hesitates for an instant in the face of the unusual call. It is not that he doesn’t trust the Nazarene; rather it gives him vertigo to realize that he is gambling his future in his decision, right there, at that very moment. He can choose to continue fishing, maybe even with a new boat. Or decide to follow the Teacher, who is earnestly calling him, and who promises to teach him—as well as his brother Andrew, and his friends John and Jacob—to “fish for men.”

What else in the world would he truly want the most?

This miraculous catch makes at least one thing clear: a single moment with Jesus is worth more than an entire life without Him.

Confused, Simon falls to his knees before the Teacher and tells him:

“No, rabbi, I am not worthy of being your disciple. Depart from me, as I am more a sinner than a fisherman.”

The Teacher stretches out His hand toward the man, who gently trembles upon the warm contact and, with an energetic embrace, pulls Him toward himself like embracing a friend.

Simon—or was he already Peter—maintains the steady gaze of someone who reads the heart and who sees in His eyes something that allows him to fulfill his greatest hopes; something capable of finally giving his life meaning, direction and purpose. He senses that fishing for men involves collaborating in the enormous mission that the Nazarene has at hand, of trying to save the world.

The strange words of the Teacher, also directed at His fishermen friends, resonate in full strength and mystery in the astonished ears of the new disciple:

Follow Me and I will make you fishermen of men.

Simon, who is now Peter, well understands what Jesus asks of him:

Leave your nets and boat here with your family. They will need them. I promise to embark you on another type of ship, to show you how to use other nets and to look for another catch: and certainly, in another sea; without seashores.

Fisherman of men. If that’s what it is to be like Jesus, it is what Peter desires. He does not understand the exact meaning of those words, but given whom they come from, he accepts them with bewilderment.

On the golden sand of the beach, the Teacher’s footprints are being etched, like a luminous wake that invites him to follow them. On it, the footprints gradually become indistinct, between unsteady and vigorous, belonging to whom no longer wants to continue being a mere fisherman of fish.

The afternoon sun still shines brightly over the lake.

Being left in the distance are the fisherman’s small village, his house, his boat and his nets. There too remains, busy in the market of the port, his family enjoying the amazing catch. Everything is staying behind, while Peter sees a radiant future open up before him, like the sun over the lake that almost blinds him.

His people do not understand why he leaves it all now. They do not know that what awaits him is worth much more than what he leaves behind. They do not yet see the abysmal difference that exists between the uncertain satisfaction of catching fish and the supreme joy of leading human beings to the kingdom of God.

1 . Gabriel Miro describes in this way the Lake of Gennesaret from Capernaum: “further away, the red ridges of Golan had to their left the hoary brows of Hermon, and to their right, the beautiful plain and Mount Tabor, with the mountain’s bare dome looking like a crown to the Jewish fatherland.” (Figures of the Passion, Madrid: Biblioteca Nueva, 1973, 9th edition, p. 17)

2 . Matthew 4:18-22; cf. Mark 1:16-20.

3 . Ellen G. White evokes this scene saying about Peter that “as he watched by the empty nets, the future seemed dark.” (The Desire of Ages, p. 151)

4 . The Aramaic Kepa or Cephas means ‘rock,’ ‘boulder’, in Greek petros, term that has evolved into Spanish until producing the name of Peter.

5 . John 1:42.

6 . When Jesus asks his disciples if they wish to abandon him to continue with their lives from before, Peter will answer: “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life” (John 6:68).

7 . Passage inspired by Luke 5:1-11.