H is reverie was disturbed by the clump of feet on the pier. The fishermen, the owners of the boats were coming. The village waterfront stretched almost 1000 feet along the shores of Galilee. There were many fishermen, many boats. Peter and Andrew had moved to this place from their native Bethsaida precisely because the fish were more plentiful in the northwest corner of the lake. If there was a “fishing hole” in Galilee, Capharnaum was it. The village itself was just that, a ‘village’ of perhaps 1500 souls about three miles from the place where the Jordan river opened into the lake. Yet, it enjoyed the privileged position of being a border town along the main imperial highway leading to Damascus. The village controlled a much larger portion of the north shore than just its waterfront, from the great spring on the west, later to be named Et-Tabgha, to the Jordan on the east, a distance of almost five miles.

The sun peeked over the rim of the eastern hills, turning the lake into a bowl of shimmering gold. Silhouettes of fishermen casting nets in the shallows created the impression that they were harvesting the precious metal instead of fish. Jesus stood from his position at the end of the pier, slipped his wet feet into his sandals and turned to go, his new friend, the dog, following close by. Stepping around and through the fishermen, he reached the foot of the pier. He watched the dog run instantly to the nearest patch of grass and squat. A female! thought the Son of God. Perhaps I shall give her a name. He thought about that. Tried and rejected several names. She was a beautiful animal, soft brown eyes, a coat of long, black hair generously splotched around the shoulders with white. She looked like a working dog similar to the ones often used by shepherds to work their sheep. After several moments of considering, he thought of a name, . . . Abishag! I will call her Abishag! He thought for a moment of where he had come up with that name and then remembered. It was the name of the beautiful maiden sought out to keep king David warm in his old age; the woman later to become the wife of king Solomon. With that settled, Jesus turned to walk among the things that are common among fishing waterfronts anywhere in the world, coils of rope, nets, cork. The smell of dead fish. Abishag trotted happily along, sniffing about and occasionally chasing a rat.

He had not gone far when he encountered Simon in whose home he had spent the night. Simon, whom he had named Peter, and his brother Andrew. They were busy with their nets, casting them into the lake and hauling in their load of denizens. It would be, it seemed, a profitable day. Good men, Jesus thought. Faithful, hard-working men. They would make superb disciples. More than that, they would be my apostles! It is just such men as these to whom my work should be entrusted. They are the best in all the earth. In a moment, they saw Jesus watching them. Leaving their nets for a moment of greeting, they approached. As they did, they were overcome by the sheer spiritual power of his presence. They knew Jesus to be a man, yet this morning as the waters lapped around their feet, they knew him also to be Something Other. What did they feel? Who knows the hearts of men or how they respond to omnipotent unrelenting love. Jesus opened his mouth to speak. It seemed the words would never come. When they did, they were plain and simple, “Come with me, Peter,” his gaze turned to his brother, “come with me, Andrew, and I will make you both fishers of men.” Their nets lay in the water, held afloat by small corks. They took no thought of the nets or the fish they might contain, they went with him. Other fishermen would claim their nets. Other fishermen looked on as their friends in labor left behind all they had ever known. They never looked back. Neither, apparently did Abishag.

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