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ery early the next morning, while it was still dark, Jesus eyes blinked open. He got up, did his business and pondered, rubbing his eyes, if he should go back to bed. Sleep still cob webbing his brain, he slipped once again between the covers and stretched. Minutes later he was still awake, more so than before. He knew that if he continued to lie there, sleep would not come. Leveraging his weight with his legs, he got up again and left the house. Morning dew lay upon the countryside. Mists rose from the shallows of the sea. Stars overhead twinkled brilliantly on the earth. Smells of clean humidity. Smells of agriculture and animals. Jesus felt good — invigorated. His heart began to long for God and he began to seek a solitary place. He came at length upon one of the streams that fed into the lake. He followed the bubbling current up a slight hill to a place where it issued from a clear pool. The pool was surrounded by mossy walls down through which the water had formed a mini-gorge, seeking the level plains of the pool. A log lay across the gorge, more likely perceived as a lovely wady, overgrown with weeds, lichen and shrubs. One end of the log, its stump, where the roots had lost their purchase near the lip of the wady, slid diagonally down to where Jesus stood, offering an inviting place to sit. He sat. He listened to the water. He listened to the small creatures of the night. He listened to the approaching dawn. He lifted his eyes to the stars and whispered, “Good morning, Father.”
Jesus lingered at this idyllic spot well into the early hours of daylight. Everyone else had arisen, breakfasted, and started their day. The family had missed Jesus at breakfast. Though they knew where he was, rather they knew that he was somewhere — probably praying. They were becoming accustomed to his habits. In time however, when Jesus did not appear, Peter, Andrew, James and John went searching for him. Andrew, who seemed to have an innate talent for finding people, came upon the stream and the others following, in a few moments came upon Jesus at the Prayer Pond, for that is what it was called. When Andrew found him, he cried, “Jesus!” The Lord looked up from his gaze into the depths of the pool. One could easily surmise that Jesus was a contemplative man. And so it is, and so it must be for everyone who seeks to tap the resource of strength. There, deep within the waters, or beyond the stars is where one seeks and finds the peaceful comfort of the Creator. Andrew came closer and said, “Everyone is looking for you!” His time of prayer had ended.
Jesus however, did not move. As the men gathered around him, taking places on rocks and clumps of grass, Peter sat down next to him on the log. Finally, Jesus replied, acknowledging their presence, “The time has come to go elsewhere.” His voice was low. Quiet.
“Where, Master,” said Peter. “Here” he said with solicitation, “you have my home as a headquarters. Food and shelter. Here we have the sea and fishing . . .”
“We shall not always have these things, Simon,” Jesus responded. While Jesus had given Simon a new name, he did not always use it, especially at first. It took some time before the name fixed itself in everyone’s mind. “Before our course is done, we shall have traveled the length of Israel. We will start with nearby villages and expand from there. I must preach. That is why I have come. To preach. I have come to preach, my fisherman friend,” Jesus spoke smiling. “Let us be about it! Come, those who need my Father’s love await us!”
“What Simon says has merit, Lord,” from Andrew. “How shall we provision? How shall we support ourselves?” It was a question that has plagued message bearers since there were message bearers. Who will pay the bills? Where will food come from? Shelter? Sandals and clothing? How would they pay the Romans for the privilege of breathing the air? Payment for the time, effort and energy of the messenger depended usually upon those who heard and listened. Listeners gathered to hear and part with their funds largely because of the credibility of the messenger. Credibility normally provided by a sponsor, a synagogue or group of synagogues in Jewry, or perhaps the Sanhedrin in Jerusalem. The stipend of rabbis and teachers was usually provided by a sponsoring organization. It all worked together rather crazily, yet it seemed to work.
But Jesus had none of these things. For the past year, he had lived meagerly owing to the generosity of Joseph, his father. Friends had helped. Zebedee and his sons had provided some sustenance. Peter had offered his home and their trade, fishing, had also provided means. But if they were to undertake a major itinerant ministry, there would have to be more. One would think there would have to be something regular, sustained and dependable. However, they had little money.
Jesus rose from where he sat on the log and waving his friends to follow, he strode down the path to the main highway. “We shall see what shall come of this,” said he. He left the Prayer Pond with the clothes on his back, his friends, and little else. So, he traveled throughout Galilee. Amazingly, they lacked little, preaching in the synagogues, healing the sick, infirm, and sending demons packing back into the darkness from which they came.
