John's Story (12 page)

F
riday morning broke unusually hot for autumn in Ephesus, and John despaired to realize he was feeling no better. He did not look forward to the frowns of concern—which always looked like pity—on the faces of Ignatius and Polycarp. Yet today he feared he must break down and ask for help. Not for a doctor. No, it was much too early for that and would create more alarm than he cared to, in light of the task at hand. But he needed a bath, and he could not manage the stairs.

The sad fact was, he had to ask to move to a room on the first floor. That way he might be able to care for himself somewhat and not have to depend so much on others for his simple needs. If only he could count on his protégés not to make a fuss. Trading rooms with Ignatius would be ideal, but John simply wanted this without fanfare. He and Polycarp had much to cover. And if the move could be effected early, he might enjoy cooler air throughout the day.

To John’s amazement, Ignatius and Polycarp had apparently lost interest in how he looked in the morning. They arrived with something else on their minds.

“Late in the afternoon yesterday,” Ignatius said, “I got word in the city that a disciple of Cerinthus was making the rounds, telling people of a church that would soon be formed.”

“Old news,” John said.

“But that they are spreading the word, that’s news. I wanted to talk to the young man. I had something I wanted communicated to Cerinthus, not knowing whether he was still in the city.”

“To Cerinthus?” John said. “What?”

“I wanted to invite him to church.”

John scowled at Ignatius. “You’re mad.”

“That’s what I said,” Polycarp said. “In fact, if I had seen Cerinthus I would have told him I believe he is a child of the devil.”

“Well,” Ignatius said, “he may be what you say, but consider the effect on him should he sit under the teaching of true doctrine, inspired by the living God. Besides, it would give us a chance to engage him once more.”

“Forgive my lack of faith,” John said, “but surely you don’t expect to be able to reason with the man, to make sense to him.”

“I thought you would welcome the opportunity to try.”

John sat on the edge of his bed. “And so? Did you find him, or did you send word with his man?”

“The latter,” Ignatius said. “Of course he laughed in my face.”

“The impudence! Even if the invitation sounds ludicrous, with which I must agree, how dare a young man respond to his elder that way?”

“I too was offended, John,” Ignatius said, “but I did not remain so. And I was quite clear in telling him where and when Cerinthus should come.”

John camouflaged his physical discomfort with concern. “Bishop! Was that wise? It is already difficult enough to hide the largest Christian church in all of Asia.”

Ignatius paused. “We need not worry about Cerinthus turning us in to the Romans. While
we
know he is apostate,
they
would consider him in league with us. Exposing us would merely leave him vulnerable to the same.”

John pondered this. “Perhaps. I am not so sure he wouldn’t jump at the chance to expose us to Rome. I don’t know whether to hope he arrives or not.”

“I hope he does!” Polycarp said.

“I’m sure you do. Ah, the naïveté of youth.”

Polycarp looked crestfallen.

“Oh, son, I didn’t intend that to be mean. In truth I envy your idealism. Certainly I would love to face the man again too, but I wish I were your age again, or even Ignatius’s. Yet I fear we would be allowing the nose of the camel under our tent.”

John was relieved that his health had not become the topic of conversation, but that reprieve was short-lived. Presently Ignatius said, “So how are you this summer day anyway?”

“It does feel like summer, doesn’t it? I need to ask, Ignatius, if there would be any chance we could trade quarters.”

“Too hot for you up here?”

“Yes.”

“That is an aberration, as I’m sure you know, and within a fortnight the guest room might prove too cold for you.”

“If you wouldn’t mind, I would like to work down there, especially today, but it would be of great help if I could permanently move.”

In less than an hour the switch was made, and John was so delighted with his new chambers that he wished he had made the request days earlier. He had much more room, another window on yet another wall, and a bigger desk for Polycarp too. They dove directly into their work.

“Well, the next day, the people on the other side of the sea had to be astonished that Jesus was not there. They had seen us leave, so they knew He had to still be in the area. When they could not find Him, they sailed to Capernaum. And when they found Him on the other side of the sea, they said, ‘Rabbi, when did You come here?’

“Jesus said, ‘Most assuredly, I say to you, you seek Me, not because you saw the signs, but because you ate of the loaves and were filled. Do not labor for the food which perishes, but for the food which endures to everlasting life, which the Son of Man will give you, because God the Father has set His seal on Him.’

“So He’s changing the subject, teacher? Evading their question?”

“Clearly. And by turning the lamp onto them, He makes them forget that He seemed to have no way to get across the lake. They said, ‘What shall we do, that we may work the works of God?’

“Jesus said, ‘This is the work of God, that you believe in Him whom He sent.’

“Of course they still did not understand and said, ‘What sign will You perform then, that we may see it and believe You? What work will You do? Our fathers ate the manna in the desert; as it is written, “He gave them bread from heaven to eat.” ’

“Jesus said, ‘Most assuredly, I say to you, Moses did not give you the bread from heaven, but My Father gives you the true bread from heaven. For the bread of God is He who comes down from heaven and gives life to the world.’

“They said, ‘Lord, give us this bread always.’

“Now, listen carefully, Polycarp. This is such a wonderful saying. Jesus said, ‘I am the bread of life. He who comes to Me shall never hunger, and he who believes in Me shall never thirst. But I said to you that you have seen Me and yet do not believe. All that the Father gives Me will come to Me, and the one who comes to Me I will by no means cast out. For I have come down from heaven, not to do My own will, but the will of Him who sent Me. This is the will of the Father who sent Me, that of all He has given Me I should lose nothing, but should raise it up at the last day. And this is the will of Him who sent Me, that everyone who sees the Son and believes in Him may have everlasting life; and I will raise him up at the last day.’”

John took a deep breath and sat. As encouraged as he was with his new room, he found himself sitting more and even lying down occasionally as he dictated, which naturally caused Polycarp alarm. The young man continually entreated him to break, to take refreshment, to nap, to see a doctor.

“Verily, lad, you must stop this. Can we not establish that if I have need of anything, anything at all, I will admit it?”

Again it was plain he had offended Polycarp. “I am only trying to—”

“I know, son, I know! Please! I do not know how else to say this. You know how uncomfortable it makes me when one is so solicitous of me.”

The young man shrugged, and John was content that he had kept Polycarp at bay yet again. But in truth, he knew he should take a break and gather himself. While he feared he was not being a worthy steward of his own resources, John’s greater dread was that they would run out of days. If despite all the Lord had brought him through, he expended his life over what might seem to some a menial task, so be it. He would consider it a worthy investment. Unlike Ignatius, he did not desire, nor did he see as necessary or gallant, a martyr’s death any more dramatic than that.

I
t had been John’s custom to eat only morning and evening meals, but as his strength waned, he lay down and asked Polycarp to fetch him some midday sustenance. The young man hurried off, leaving John to regret how he had seemed so frequently to brush aside the lad’s obvious concern for him and his welfare.

It was his wish only to encourage as fine a young disciple as Polycarp. John had not once over the years been disingenuous in his proclamations regarding Polycarp’s future in ministry. As it was, even in his mid-twenties, Polycarp played a respected leadership role in that important church. And surely he was destined for a bishopric—if not here, then in one of the other churches under John’s care.

John told himself that his point had been made, and that if Polycarp fell into any more doting, he would accept it gratefully as a sign of the young man’s love and concern. He would merely thank him. And ignore him.

The young man had gifts, of that there was no question, not the least of which was knowing just the right refresher for his mentor. John sat up as Polycarp returned and set before him a small bowl of grapes and olives. Such an unusual combination, and yet perfect for that moment. The sharp saltiness of the olives proved delicious, and the sweetness of the grapes energized him.

Oh, the pain in his chest was still there, and John resigned himself to the fact that if he was for some reason forced to exert himself, it would surely result in his demise. Fortunately, the work he was doing and the insightful questions of his helper proved to somehow take his mind off his ailments—at least temporarily.

“I am amazed,” Polycarp said, “at how often Jesus refers to His mission, who He is and what He is about. I do not see how anyone who studies His life and message could come to any other conclusion than that He claimed to be the Son of God, sent from Heaven to do the will of His Father. I am not so deluded as to think that everyone will agree and believe in Him. But they cannot say He was about anything else or that He did not claim this identity. And the beautiful imagery. I live for water and for bread, so He reaches me when He uses that language. Let me predict that your account will find an enthusiastic hearing among the brethren.”

“Let us pray it will also be received by those who are not yet with us,” John said. “The pagan, the apostate, the unbeliever, they need it even more than we do. And so we must resume. You know, the religious leaders complained about Him, because He said, ‘I am the bread which came down from heaven.’ And remember, He is saying this in the synagogue in Capernaum.”

“They must have been outraged.”

“They said, ‘Is not this Jesus, the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know? How is it then that He says, “I have come down from heaven?” ’

“Jesus answered them, ‘Do not murmur among yourselves. No one can come to Me unless the Father who sent Me draws him; and I will raise him up at the last day. It is written in the prophets, “And they shall all be taught by God.” Therefore everyone who has heard and learned from the Father comes to Me. Not that anyone has seen the Father, except He who is from God; He has seen the Father. Most assuredly, I say to you, he who believes in Me has everlasting life. I am the bread of life. Your fathers ate the manna in the wilderness, and are dead. This is the bread which comes down from heaven, that one may eat of it and not die. I am the living bread which came down from heaven. If anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever; and the bread that I shall give is My flesh, which I shall give for the life of the world.’”

“How did the Jewish leaders react to that?” Polycarp said.

“As you can imagine, they quarreled among themselves, saying, ‘How can this Man give us His flesh to eat?’

“Jesus said, ‘Most assuredly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood, you have no life in you. Whoever eats My flesh and drinks My blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day. For My flesh is food indeed, and My blood is drink indeed. He who eats My flesh and drinks My blood abides in Me, and I in him. As the living Father sent Me, and I live because of the Father, so he who feeds on Me will live because of Me. This is the bread which came down from heaven—not as your fathers ate the manna, and are dead. He who eats this bread will live forever.’”

Polycarp sat back. “The religious leaders must have been speechless.”

“We all were. It was a complicated treatise, and I, for one, did not understand it. Later He told us He had, of course, been speaking symbolically. His point was that just as food and drink are necessary to sustain life, people could live spiritually only by His offering His body and His blood as a sacrifice for their sins. We did not know that this giving meant His literal death, though that eventually became clear. It would take days of conversation with the Master to gain some understanding. Some among us, in fact the broader group of disciples, grew so frustrated that they gave up trying to decipher His meaning and left us.”

“That was when the winnowing began?”

“Oh, He still had those of us closest to Him, the twelve. But, yes, the rest left Him at that point.”

“Will you be explaining Him here, master, making it easier for those who hear or read this to understand?”

John shook his head. “Christ Himself made it clear to us. I sense I need to let His Holy Spirit do the same for readers and hearers. People often responded to Him by declaring, ‘This is a hard saying; who can understand it?’

“When Jesus knew in Himself that His disciples complained about this, He said to us, ‘Does this offend you? What then if you should see the Son of Man ascend where He was before? It is the Spirit who gives life; the flesh profits nothing. The words that I speak to you are spirit, and they are life. But there are some of you who do not believe.’”

“What did He mean by that, teacher?”

“Oh, Jesus knew from the beginning who did not believe and who would betray Him. And He said, ‘Therefore I have said to you that no one can come to Me unless it has been granted to him by My Father.’ That was when many of His disciples went back and walked with Him no more. Then Jesus said to us twelve, ‘Do you also want to go away?’

“Simon Peter spoke for all of us when he said, ‘Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. Also we have come to believe and know that You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.’”