06-Simon Peter

Word began spreading in Jerusalem that the men who came to the Temple courts everyday to preach of their Messiah could also heal the sick, ease the heavy hearted, and even drive out evil spirits. No one knew who started the rumor, only that it came from the poor beggars and the real or pretended cripples who sat in the vestibule of King Solomon every day.

One day as Simon and John passed by the vestibule, a man pushed himself forward from the crowd of cripples. He couldn’t walk; so he dragged himself on his knees. He raised his bearded face toward Simon with the look that beggars have when they expect to be given bread or money.

Filled with pity, Simon said to him, “Look at us!”

The cripple gazed intently back and forth from Simon to John with thirst in his eyes. And from Simon’s eyes came a look of immeasurable faith to quench that thirst.

“Silver and gold I have none,” said Simon in a deep, hoarse voice, “but what I have I give you. In the name of Jesus of Nazareth, rise up and walk.”

The beggar looked like he’d just been struck repeatedly with a hammer. But his eyes remained fixed on Simon.

Seeing his hesitation, Simon stepped forward, took hold of the cripple, and lifted him up with his powerful arms. The cripple’s paralyzed legs didn’t trust themselves to hold him, and he tottered and swayed, like a newborn calf. But he didn’t fall. Finally, he took a few steps forward.

All of this took place at the time of the afternoon sacrifice when the silver trumpets could be heard in the courts. The Levites on the steps leading to the entrance of the Women’s Court began to sing their psalms. The multitudes that had come to the Temple to pray murmured the prayer of the coming of Messiah, their faces pressed to the floor.

“As to the seed of the house of David, Your servant, cause it to blossom soon, and lift up his heart, for we await Your help every day. Blessed are You, O Lord, who lifts the horn of salvation.”

Through the silence that followed, there rang a sudden cry, “Hosanna! Hosanna!”

The prostrate congregation wouldn’t look up, of course, but the voice kept ringing in the silence, “Hosanna! Hosanna!”

When the prayer ended, the worshippers began murmuring as they looked up.

“What was that? What’s happening?”
“It’s a miracle from heaven!”

A number of men came running into the court.

“The Galileans who preach Messiah have performed a miracle in his name!”
“How? What? Where?”
“They healed Nehemiah, the crippled beggar.”
“Who did?”
“There were two of them. Simon, the short, heavy one with the tangled beard, was the leader in it.”
“In whose name did you say they healed him?”
“In the name of Jesus, the Messiah of Nazareth. Or so they call him.”
“Ignorant Galileans can’t even talk right. They say sibboleth for shibboleth.”
“Isn’t that the Jesus who was hanged from the cross this past Passover? I knew something would come of that.”
“Yes, I remember him teaching in the Temple court. He had this look that, well, I don’t know.”
“Who knows? Maybe the time has come.”

In the meantime, the crowd grew thicker around the threshold of King Solomon’s Vestibule, and a procession of beggars, cripples, blind and half blind set out toward the Court of the Women. The healed cripple led the way, a big raw-boned man with vast eyebrows and a beard that fell over his chest like an apron. As he marched he waved the crutches over his head, while a procession of swollen bellies, watering eyes, and twisted limbs swarmed around him.

Tapping their staves on the stones of the court, they performed a grotesque imitation of a dance as they cried out, “Hosanna! Hosanna in the name of the son of David!”

A blind man became separated from the procession. He seemed to be under the impression that the Kingdom was coming then and there without him. Desperately he shouted, “I want to be in the Kingdom of Heaven. I’m a son of Israel from the tribe of Naphtali, and I’ve been waiting long for Messiah.”

A dense circle formed around Simon and John, not just beggars and cripples, but regular worshippers as well. Students from the schools of the rabbis were also there. There was a loud babbling of voices, but one question was heard over and over. Who was this Messiah in whose name this miracle had been performed?

Simon cried out, “Men of Israel! Why are you filled with wonder by this thing, and why do you stare at us as though we performed it. It wasn’t by us, but by the name of Jesus the Messiah through us.”

Well, as soon as these words came out of Simon’s mouth, the crowd began to dissolve. People hurried away in fear of being caught associating with the new doctrine. Simon looked and saw Alexander, the overseer of the Temple approaching, surrounded by Temple guards.

Now Alexander was notorious for his savage discipline, and his appearance agreed with his reputation. Thick heavy ringlets of hair seemed to hammer his flesh as he walked. His massive legs seemed to be poured of metal, and he walked with iron footsteps, casting terror into all who saw him. In his hand he carried a whip with many thongs. He was authorized to arrest anyone who transgressed against the laws of the Temple courts. The guards marched in a double row behind him, and they also carried whips with many thongs. As they drew near, Simon grew visibly paler. His eyebrows quivered and his voice grew weak, but he continued to preach.

As did all sons of Israel, Simon believed the High Priest to be the supreme authority over Jewry, the anointed one in the line of Aaron. Reverence for the office ran deep in his blood, and thus a struggle now went on in the heart of the simple fisherman. His faith in Messiah was deep, but so was his dread of the High Priest’s authority. His knees seemed to melt just like when he was with the servants of the High Priest near the fire on the night his rabbi was being tried.

He wanted to flee with the others, but just then the broad shouldered John, standing behind him, laid a heavy hand on his shoulder, and growled into his ear, “Simon, would you deny the lord a second time in the hour of trial?”

A quiver of shame passed through Simon. No, not again. He would not deny his lord again.

Though his limbs were like water, Simon remained at his post, looking steadfastly at the Temple overseer.

“By whose authority do you do this?” he was asked.

“By the authority of Jesus of Nazareth, my lord and savior.”

“Do you mean the blasphemer who was hanged on the eve of Passover? Take them! They shall answer to the High Priest!”

Instantly the guards seized Simon and John, pinning their arms behind their backs. Voices rose from those who hadn’t fled.

“What right do they have to lay hands on rabbis who preach the resurrection?”
“They haven’t said or done anything against the law. Our rabbis also teach the resurrection.”
“But the sons of Eli hate the resurrection. You know why?”
“No, why?”
“Because they alone of all the house of Israel will remain forever in the depths of hell.”
“Yes, the chains of the sons of Eli are heavier on our necks than the bonds of Rome.”

The loaded whips of the guards began to fly about the heads and shoulders of the protestors. The two prisoners were pushed forward toward the dungeons of the Temple, which were outside the gates, next to the Hall of the Sanhedrin, by the chamber of Hewn stones.


It was too late in the day for holding a trial, so Simon and John were held prisoners overnight. In the darkness of the long hours of that night Simon was aware of a sense of peace. Prophets from of old had been prisoners in the dungeons of the Temple because they’d dared to proclaim God’s truth against the mighty.
All through the night Simon prayed, “O Father in heaven, even as I believe in Your holy servant, the deliverer whom I’ve seen with my own eyes, even so strengthen me, so I may be able to serve him with all purity. When I’m face to face with the mighty to bear witness for your holy servant, put Your mantle around me to shield me from the piercing glance of the strong. Fill my heart with faith and let the strength of Your truth be seen in my eyes. O Lord, let the shadow of Your holy servant fall on me, that I may bear faithful testimony to the truth. Amen!”


In the morning Alexander the overseer delivered his report to John, the chief officer of the Temple, but the latter didn’t think if sufficiently important to bring to the attention of the old High Priest Annas, who was charged with all incidents occurring within the Temple precincts. Nor was he inclined to make an issue of it before the current High Priest. Actually he was more amused than anything, and found the story both ludicrous and insignificant. A couple of gross, illiterate Galileans had convinced themselves that one of their countrymen was Messiah and had risen from the dead. This was nothing to make the foundations of the Temple tremble. Many “Messiahs” had arisen. They flourished for a few days, and then they vanished, never to be heard from again. This one too would die the natural death of oblivion.

Somehow the matter came to the attention of Annas anyway. But he was inclined to agree as to the lack of importance of the “dangerous criminals.” The word “Messiah” was like a bellows, capable to fanning a spark into a raging fire, and fire was not something to be played with. The Galilean louts ought to be called in, given a thorough talking to and warned never again to mention the name of their Messiah in the sacred precincts. With that they should be sent packing. A regular trial was out of the question. Indeed, if anyone should be brought to trial, it ought to be the Pharisees, who were responsible for all this nonsense about resurrection.

Meanwhile, word had gotten around the High Priest’s household about how the Temple Overseer had thrown the men who had healed the cripple into the dungeon. This created considerable excitement among the servants and officials because they all remembered the night when the Roman soldiers seized the rabbi and brought him to trial in the court of the High Priest.

A crowd assembled when Simon and John were led from the dungeon to the inner office, and one of the servant girls pointed at Simon and cried out loudly, “There he is! That’s the one who swore by everything he held holy that he had nothing to do with the man when he stood warming himself by the fire that night. And now that his rabbi is dead, he preaches in his name?”

Simon recognized the servant girl’s voice. His eyelids fell, he felt a tug at his heart, and he said inwardly, “Lord of the world! Be with me in this hour!”


For all his contemptuous attitude, the current High Priest was curious to see the Galileans. So he sent word that the proceedings were not to begin until he arrived.

Old Annas, meanwhile, was quite certain that the simple fishermen who’d scattered in terror on the night their rabbi was arrested would fall on their knees in the presence of eminence, confess their sins, and promise never to repeat their blasphemies. That would be the end of it. That’s why he had no objection to having the High Priest present. The Chief Officer, however, objected that such a gathering of supreme officials would cast an artificial importance to the incident. But the old High Priest and the current High Priest had their way.

But to the amazement of the supreme officials, this assembly of hierarchy did not overwhelm the Galileans. Simon’s knees were seen to tremble, but only for a moment. The next instant he recovered. Instead of stammering and confessing, he looked steadily at the High Priest and admitted in a loud clear voice that he had been the instrument of the miracle performed the day before in the Temple court, and that the power had been that of Jesus of Nazareth, the lord and savior of Israel, who was delivered into the hands of Rome and who rose from the dead on the third day.

The High Priest’s face became pale, while old Annas closed his eyes and tugged with one hand at his beard. John, the Chief Officer, became very sober, and young Annas, the youngest son of old Annas, but his upper lip.

Only Alexander had an immediate reaction. He raised his hand as if to slap Simon, and cried out, “Is this your answer to the High Priest?”

The blow didn’t fall though, for in that instant Alexander caught the glance of old Annas. The High Priests then looked at each other in silence. They were at a loss for words, for the situation hadn’t gone according to plan.

“Take them out,” commanded old Annas.

The guards led Simon and John into an adjoining room, while the priests remained silent, like images on their stone seats. Finally the High Priest spoke up, “There are only two possibilities here. One, we can act with firmness, destroy these men, and tear out this evil by the roots. Two, we release them and thus give them permission to continue their agitation.

“If we do the latter, we confess to having committed a miscarriage of justice by handing over an innocent man to the executioners.”

“Confession or no confession,” said Eliezer, another former High Priest, “the people will see it that way. Worse than that, we will have shown weakness.”

“No, no, you go too far,” interrupted old Annas. “Our only punishment is to expose these Galilean boors to ridicule. Better yet, let’s shame them to themselves, by showing them how foolish their illusion is about this Messiah of theirs. But it must be done with wisdom. With one hand we must push them away, and with the other draw them closer. Leave it to me. Bring in the men!”
When Simon and John again stood before the High Priest, old Annas ordered the guards to leave the room. Then he turned on Alexander, the Temple Overseer, and acted indignant.

“By what right, and on the basis of what law, have these innocent, honest, and god-fearing men been arrested and held prisoner?”

And he furiously commanded him to leave.

Then he turned to Simon and John. “You are free, good men!”

Simon and John stood paralyzed before the semicircle of High Priests. The sudden change in attitude bewildered rather than reassured them. They dared not take old Annas’ words literally.

So they waited and old Annas continued, “Sit down, good men, and let us talk this matter over at our ease. God forbid that we have anything against you. On the contrary, we rejoice that God has given you this power of prophecy. No doubt the Temple court is responsible for it. We’ve also heard that you strengthen the spirit of the people and bid them walk the path of righteousness.

“There is only one matter that divides us. You do these things in the name of Jesus of Nazareth, who you call Messiah, rather than in the name of the God of Israel. Now no one can approve this. You’re pious and god-fearing men, and you know full well that all things come from the living God of Israel. Promise me, good men, that you’ll heed my words.”

And old Annas stretched out his hand to Simon.

“Simon was silent for a moment, gathering his thoughts. Then he raised his big, childlike eyes and looked at Annas and the High Priest.

“Tell me,” he said, “is it proper to turn one’s back on God’s command and to listen to the speech of men? We received our command from God.”

This was by no means the reply Annas expected. He lost his poise for a moment. Then he looked sternly at the Galilean fishermen, trying to determine whether their answer had been given in sincerity or whether it was a cunning countermove. But he could read nothing in Simon’s face, which was open and naïve, and continued to stare at him.

“God’s command?” he repeated. “God’s command to do what?”

“To spread the good news of Messiah in Israel.”

“And through whom was this command of God delivered to you.”

“Through Messiah himself, when he revealed himself to us after his death.”

“After his death?”

“Yes. God raised him from the dead.”

One of the priests muttered impatiently to Annas, “Don’t you see you’re dealing with stupid and ignorant people. Only stupid people talk of resurrections.”

And another priest added, “We have the Pharisees to thank for this. This is the harvest of their sowing.”

As the High Priests, past, present, and future, gazed intently at the fisherman, Simon did not shrink, and they still didn’t know if it was fearless simplicity, or the boldness of cunning. Whichever it was, they knew this scene could be prolonged no longer, for with each passing minute their standing fell lower and lower with their own servants.

Old Annas kept his voice even and friendly, at least on the surface, as he said, “You may go, good people. You are free both to preach and to continue in your good deeds. But bear in mind what I’ve said. Do not mention the name of that man again, or we shall be forced to take measures against you, and it would not be to our liking to deal harshly with honest, pious, and god-fearing people such as you are. You will remember, will you not?”

“We shall do as God has commanded us,” answered Simon from the door. “For it isn’t proper to place man’s command above God’s”

* * * * *

When John and Simon came out of the High Priest’s office, Simon fell on his knees, lifted his arms to heaven, and exclaimed, “I thank You, O God, for the strength you gave me in the hour of trial.”

When he stood up he saw that he was facing the exact spot by the well where he’d denied his rabbi on that memorable night.