“Though it’s just the end of the Sabbath meal,” Simon Zelotes said, “it feels like it it did at the wedding.”
“Because this is the wedding feast,” Magdalene said, smiling in contentment as she lay against the wall, knees drawn to her.
“The rabbis said on the Sabbath El and his Lady came together, and so God was unified as God never is. But that after sundown they part again. But they will never be parted, not El and Asherah, God and Sophia, not heaven or earth and in the end, not woman or man.”
They sang in the light of many lamps, in laughter and good food:
Elohai n'shama shenata'ta bi t'hora hi.
Elohai n'shama shenata'ta bi t'hora hi.
Ata b’ratah, ata y’tzartah,
Ata b’ratah, ata y’tzartah, ata n’fachtah bi
v’ata m’shamrah b’kirbi
v’ata atid litelah mimeni ulehachazirah bi leatid lavo.
O my God, the soul which thou gavest me is pure.
You created it, you designed it, you breathed it into me, you guard it within me, and you will take it from me, but return it to me eternally.
They sank, swaying arm and arm, Ahinoam, the mother of Ada dancing in the midst of them with Jesus, as if they were a married couple:
Eliyahu hanavi
Eliyahu hatish'bi
Eliyahu hagil'adi -
Bim'herah beyameinu yavo
eleinu im Mashi'ach ben David.
And what a glad mood they were in, so glad that Ahinoam raced to the door when a neighbor was knocking, and when she answered, and the married folk next door saw how well she was, they knew where Jesus was, and then all through that night, John and Andrew and Philip, Nathanael Bartholomew and Jude, and James, Jesus’s cousins and Simon Zelotes, saw how much illness there was. Blindness, deafness, lingering illnesses, the crippled of all sorts. Those mad in their minds. Seeing these, they thought—Mary thought—Jesus would be overwhelmed. But he only glowed. He seemed to take on more strength the more he did, and as the night wore on, they took up the song.
El Galil, el Galil, el Galil.
Ashrayikh eretz haGalil.
Kamhah nafshi lakh haGalil.
El gedolayikh tzaddiqim,
el qedoshayikh temimim,
magen tzinna hem `al ahim,
hayyim hem betokhenu,
marvim et tzim'onenu...
As the sick became the healed, the house was filled with those dancing with joy, not merely because sickness had been healed, but because of what it meant for sickness to be healed, what it meant for a thing that consumed one’s life, that you had assumed was here to stay and would never go away, to suddenly perish. And they wept for what it meant to be in the presence of the one who did it, and in the presences of those who were witnesses to it.
But one thing the house was not full of was fishermen, for the end of the Sabbath meant a return to work, and the time for fishing was night. In the night, the fish could not see the nets dropped down upon them, and in the night the men stripped to nothing, and sometimes set out into the middle of the water, trawling. Luck had been bad. Life had been bad. Sometimes faith meant heaven dried up and you had to wait like Israel during the time of Elijah. But Simon Peter had the sense that things would be better now. Who and what Jesus was he did not understand, this strange man his brother followed, whom they called the Son of Man and Messiah and even Son of God. But he had spoken words of fire today in the synagogue. That was what they were saying.
The people were all so amazed that they asked each other, “What is this? A new teaching—and with authority! He even gives orders to impure spirits and they obey him.”
Maybe his coming meant new things for everyone. So with this hope, Peter called his brother and James and they went out onto the waters. John he left, for he understaood there was a thing between him and Jesus and at the moment the boy could not be parted from him. John had always been more philosopher than fisherman anyway, and then Palmyra had ruined him for practical things. Leave Nethaniel and Philip and that other Simon alone as well, for they would only be in the way.
Long after they put out into the waters, full of hope, when people were dispersing, though some lingered, not wishing for the party to end, Jesus sat on the dock with Mary and Marta, Lazaros and Sebastian, who had found them, and despite his robe and tunic, was still clean shaven, and still looked like a Roman.
“If you can, then you must get back,” Sebastian said. “Before it’s too late.”
“You think we can talk him out of getting into trouble?” John said.
“No,” Sebastian said. “I think he already is in trouble, but you can see him one last time. And I do mean it. I don’t believe Herod will let him keep running around and, quiet as it’s kept, I don’t think your authorities in Jerusalem would try to stop him.”
Jesus had said nothing, but Sebastian said, “I don’t understand him. He proclaimed the kingdom of God! He proclaimed repentance, but now he speaks of the wrongs of kings and queens and reprimands the chief priests in Jerusalem. My fear is he will speak against the Romans next.”
“What he said once, which was abstract,” Jesus said now, “he brings into the actual world with actual words. If the Kingdom is to come, then men must change, and the wicked must be challenged.”
“And if you lose the challenge?”
“You are bound to lose,” Jesus said.
“For now John is the seed. He knows before the seed can do a thing it must be willing to be struck and planted in the ground.”
Jesus did not seem morose about it, nor was he particularly joyous as he had been in the whole riotous night of healing. He was simply stating at thing, and as the boats were pulling in, he rose with Sebastian and John and went to the shore.
“We caught nothing!” Andrew roared, jumping out the boat in only a loin cloth. “Are there no fish in all of Genesseret? And Peter thought this would be the night.”
Peter threw out the hawsers and was climbing out of the boat.
“What can raging do?” he demanded. “The sun is nearly up, and the day we’ve been through was long. Best to rest and try again tomorrow.”
But Jesus said, “No. Not tomorrow. Tonight. Today. For there is only today.”
James was looking at his cousin and Zebedee, pulling in, wondered what his odd nephew had to say.
“Take the boat into the deep water,” Jesus said. “If all of you will put your nets into the water, you will catch fish.”
“You’re a mason not a fisherman!” Zebedee shouted. “And now apparently a prophet, but Elijah never fished!”
Simon Peter answered, “Master, we worked hard all night trying to catch fish and caught nothing.”
Jesus had not responded to his uncle, but he’d had thirty years of practice in ignoring him. Again, he set that stern look on Peter that he had on his wife, and the dark haired main pulled on his curly beard.
“Master, we worked hard all night trying to catch fish and caught nothing,” he repeated. “But you say I should put the nets into the water, so… I will.”
So Jesus climbed into the boat, helped by his cousin James, and then entered the other disciples, and even Sebastian, and they put out into the waters, knowing daybreak was at hand. Those who fished stripped naked, and this long and eventful night nearly at an end, the city of Capernaum small on the horizon, Jesus said, “Now. Now.”
The fishermen put their nets into the water, and it was in John’s face they saw it first. He and James shouted and strained together, and across the water, in Zebedee’s boat there was cursing and swearing.
“What in the hells?” Peter demanded, his brows knit in amazement.
Their nets were filled with so many fish that they began to break. In the ending night the silvery grey bodies of flapping fish thudded on the boat deck and they called to their friends in the other boat to come and help them. Zelotes’s eyes grew wide with joy and he and Nathanael clasped hands. The Bridegroom was here. The party continued. Joy unending. Zebedee’s boat arrived, and both boats were filled so full of fish that they were almost sinking.
The fishermen were all amazed at the many fish they caught, and trembling with fear, Simon Peter, amidst the fish, bowed down before Jesus and said, “Go away from me, Lord. I am a sinful man!”
And now James was at last amazed. He looked to his father and saw it in his eyes. It would have been stupid to pretend or deny any longer, and they fell on their knees before Jesus and, what was more, John noticed, Jesus did not stop them.
But Jesus said to Simon and those in that boat, “Do not be afraid. From now on you will be fishers of men.”
The men brought their boats to the shore. That was true enough, of course. And they rejoiced. However, those who told the tale were quick with embellishments. They declared how those fishermen left everything and followed Jesus, right then and there. And they did. More or less. However, as any fool can tell you, nothing is ever that simple.
