American Fishermen by Benjamin Gorman
“Do you guys see that guy over on the shore?” Thomas asked.
“Which guy?” Peter put his hand to his brow to block out the sun and looked out across the lake.
“The one telling us to throw the nets over to the other side.”
“What about him?” John asked, not even looking up as he hauled in another empty net. “Every fisherman knows the fish are over here. Ignore him.”
“No, guys, look!” Thomas said. “I think that’s Jesus!”
“Really?” Bartholomew ran to the edge of the boat so fast they all had to steady themselves as it rocked from side to side.
Peter turned to John. “This could get really awkward.”
“Well, what do we do?” Andrew asked.
Peter stood up very straight and adopted his most authoritative tone. “Throw the nets over to the other side, of course. If that’s the rabbi, do what he commands.” Then he looked at John and shrugged.
Philip and both the Jameses grabbed nets and cast them out on the wrong side of the boat. The men all held their breath. The sound of water lapping against the side of the little vessel replaced conversation, and even the wind quieted down.
John looked at Thomas. “You really thought it was him?”
“Well, sure. I mean, he said he’d come back, and the women weren’t lying. They were kind of hysterical, but they said they’d seen him, and they certainly believed it. So, I thought, I mean…” His voice trailed off and he looked a little sheepish. He kicked the deck of the boat with the side of one bare foot, then looked out over the water, avoiding everyone’s gaze. The loud silence returned.
Suddenly James the Lesser shouted, “Whoa!” He stumbled as the ropes in his hands yanked him toward the side of the boat, and Mathew and Bartholomew had to grab the lines to help keep him from losing the net altogether.
“Aw, crap,” Peter groaned. “It is him.”
The men pulled the three bulging nets into the boat, spilling the writhing masses of silver scales onto the deck. It was more than a day’s haul, and the boat rode low in the water. They had no choice but to head in to shore, and Peter knew it. “Um, well, let’s go in and see him, right? Quick, lower the sails and man the oars.”
“What are we going to do?” John asked.
Peter looked around. John had spoken too loudly. The others were waiting for his answer. “Well, we listen to Jesus, of course. But we stick with the plan unless he says otherwise, right?”
The men all nodded.
When they got near the shore, Jesus walked out to them, his feet barely touching the surface of the water. Andrew and Simon pulled Jesus into the boat, and everyone took turns hugging him and patting him on the back.
Once the greetings were done, Jesus motioned for everyone to listen to him, and they all flopped down into sitting positions the way they always did when he was about to talk. Peter looked at the way they crossed their legs and leaned forward, some rocking back and forth like eager little children, and he resented the way Jesus had infantilized them all, even though he was sitting cross legged, too. There was just something about the guy that made you want to hear what he had to say, but Peter was pretty sure their plans were out the window now. He had to take a stab at controlling the situation. “Jesus,” he said, “how did you…? I mean, we saw you. I don’t get it.”
“You have to have more faith, Peter. I told you my Father would bring me back to you, and He has. I’m not going to explain all the mechanics of it, because they aren’t important. The point is, I’m back, and we all have a lot of work to do. And I want you to start with this.” He pointed at the fish. “Take this, and go into the nearest town, Tiberius, and start passing the fish out to the poor. Tell them I’ve come back so that they will have food to eat, and that I have greater spiritual food to bring them, too. Then, when you’ve finished with the poor of Tiberius, go-”
“Um, Jesus?” Peter said. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but, uh…”
“Yes?”
“Well, you see, we already have a plan we’re working on.”
“Really?”
“It was my idea,” John said.
“What’s this plan?” Jesus asked.
John didn’t answer. He looked at Peter.
“We’ve started writing down the whole story of our time with you. We thought that would be a more efficient way to spread all the things you taught us.”
Mark raised his hand. “Mine’s almost done. It’s pretty short, to the point, you know? I just wanted to get the ideas down before I forgot anything.”
Matthew raised his hand. “I’m about halfway.”
“Me too,” Luke said.
“I’m more in the outlining phase,” John said. “I’ve got a good idea for a beginning, though. Kind of experimental. Very literary. I thought you would like it. I mean, I think you will like it. You know, because you’re here now, and…” He looked over at Peter.
Peter looked at Jesus and just raised his eyebrows.
Jesus pressed his lips together, then closed his eyes and sighed. “Guys, it’s not a bad idea, really, but remember, the whole point was to bring good news to the poor. The poor can’t read. Not most of them, anyway. Plus, if someone is starving, would you give them a scroll to eat?”
“Well, see, Jesus, that’s the thing,” American Peter said. “We had a different kind of operational strategy in mind.”
Now it was Jesus’ turn to raise his eyebrows and wait.
Peter pressed his hands together and looked down at the deck, then up at Jesus. “The thing is, helping the poor is a fine idea, and we’re all for that, but we thought we’d have a lot more success targeting your good news to the rich.”
“The good news to the rich?”
“Yeah. God loves all his children, right?”
“Of course.”
“And redemption from sin is available to everybody, right?”
“Sure.”
“So, we thought it would be a lot easier to tell the rich that everything is going to be fine. I mean, poor people, you tell them everything is going to be okay, and that’s kind of a hard sell, because their lives are pretty rotten. But if you tell a rich man that everything he’s doing is fine, and that he’s being rewarded because he’s such a great guy, well, he’s going to like hearing that, right?”
American John raised his hand but didn’t wait to be called on. “Plus, I think I have a line on a reality TV show. It will be called Galilean Fisherman, and I think we can get it onto Discovery, or maybe that National Geographic channel. I figure, if Tim Tebow can spread the good news by painting numbers on his face while carrying a very un-kosher pigskin, we can certainly do better if we have a whole half-an-hour to preach your words. With our editing. Am I right, guys? Or am I right?”
Jesus ignored American John. The other American guys on the boat did, too.
Jesus shook his head. “But Peter, I thought I was clear. I told you the poor are the ones who will always be on your side. The rich are not doing what is right with my Father, building up treasures here on earth while their brothers and sisters suffer. Like I told you-”
“Yeah, camel through the eye of a needle. I remember. Kind of a hard image to forget. But, see, if we side with the poor, for one thing, we’re not going to be very popular. We’re picturing a world where whole nations will worship you, where kings will fall all over themselves telling everybody how much they love you.”
“I didn’t come to make you popular, Peter. If all the kings in the world worship me but do not show love to their subjects…”
“Yeah, yeah, we get that,” American Peter interrupted again, “but see, that’s not the only reason. We don’t really want to hang out with poor people, either. Poor people are tacky. Lepers smell bad. Prostitutes are gross. And prisoners? Don’t get me started on prisoners. They throw people in jail for a reason, right guys?”
He looked around at the other fisherman. Most of them were nodding. He felt more confident, so he barreled ahead. “Plus, Jesus, it’s just human nature; if we take care of the poor, giving them food and helping them out, it will just make them lazy and dependent. They need to have something to strive for. If they see the rich people living large, and those rich people not only have good money and good wine and fine clothes, but also are happy and glowing and singing songs about how you made everything alright, then the poor people will be more motivated to be just like them, and that will make the poor work hard and lift themselves up out of the dirt. So, you see, preaching the good news to the rich is like a win-win.”
Jesus looked around at his disciples. “But you all worked for the poor. You’ve been with me, serving the neediest for years now.”
American Peter explained, “We’ll still have the rich give ten percent, like the Pharisees. That will actually make the rich people feel better, and if we can get more rich people in on that, we’re bringing even more to the poor. It’s just the idea of giving everything you have to the poor that won’t fly. So we’ll increase the number of donors rather than the quantity they donate. See, it’s like I said, a win-win.”
Now almost all the men were nodding violently, and a few (both the American Jameses and American Jude) were muttering, “Yeah,” and “Right on.”
American Peter was feeling very confident, now. “You said you’d make us fishers of men. And you have, Jesus. But we’re not going for the bottom-feeders. We’re going after the big fish. That’s where it’s at.”
Jesus turned and leaned heavily on the railing. He ran his hand through his black, curly hair, then spun back around so quickly he made Peter jump a little. “Peter, I can forgive you for falling asleep in the garden. I can even forgive you for denying me three times when the Romans had me in custody. I know you didn’t always understand what I was saying. That’s why I started calling you Blockhead in the first place.”
American John raised his hand. “Actually, we all agreed that we would just change that in our notes to ‘The Rock Upon Which My Church Shall Be Built.’ It’s a much better title for getting us into the houses of the kinds of people we want to share the good news with. I mean, Blockhead sounds kind of thuggish, not to mention insulting…”
Jesus ignored John, as usual, and John made a mental note to add a few lines to his story about how he was Jesus’ favorite, just out of spite.
Jesus was nearly in tears. “Peter, if you do this, if you intentionally miss the point in this way, you have no idea what the consequences will be. Those kings will fight wars in my name. People will kill each other in the name of love. Everything I’ve taught you will be turned on its head. And, despite what you may think, the Romans are not going to love you for this. They’ll still see you as another backwater Jew trying to make more of their people love somebody other than Caesar, and they won’t forgive that. They’ll take out their anger on all our people, and they won’t be the last ones, or the worst. Don’t do this, Peter. As your rabbi, I’m telling you, this is wrong.”
American Peter stood up. “Look, Jesus, you’re a great guy and all, but the idea of telling people to take all they have and give it to the poor until everybody is taking care of everybody else; that’s just naïve. People don’t like hearing that they have an obligation to take care of each other. They like hearing that what they are doing right now is just fine. That’s the winning message, and your forgiveness of sins thing is perfect for that. So, I guess what I’m saying is, we’re just going to have to agree to disagree.”
Jesus looked around at the other disciples. “Is that how you all feel?”
Thomas said, “Wait, guys, I think we need to talk this out a little more.”
“Get him off my boat,” American Peter said.
Jesus didn’t fight back when four of the men grabbed him by his robe and threw him over the side. He splashed loudly and sank down, then rose right back up until he was standing on the surface, looking up at the men only a little bit above his head. “Fine,” he said. As he turned away from the men who had been his best friends, he looked up toward the sky. “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”
American Peter turned to American Matthew and hissed, “Write that down. We can use that.”
“Jesus, wait!” Thomas cried, but Jesus was already walking away across the Sea of Galilee. Thomas turned back to the others. “Guys, I really don’t feel good about this.”
“You’ll get over it,” American Peter said. Then he turned to American Luke and whispered, “Let’s put something in about how Thomas didn’t believe it was really Jesus when he came back. Just in case Thomas doesn’t stick with the program.”
Luke nodded.
Peter watched Jesus storming off, ripples spreading around his feet because he was stomping so hard as he walked. Peter shouted after him, “Thanks for the fish, though.” The disciples laughed.
Without turning, Jesus raised his arm and made a rude gesture.
American Peter shrugged. So what if Jesus could come back from the dead and walk on water and do a whole bunch of other magic tricks. Jesus Christ! The guy just didn’t get American Christianity.
