My Vision
for China

(This story is best read aloud.)

I'm John, fisherman's son from Galilee. I didn't have a lot of education growing up, just the standard Hebrew education in the synagogue. But we did pick up some Greek so we could get by with the Roman soldiers and other people living in Palestine. Remember, just across the Sea of Galilee in the Decapolis, the people spoke Greek. Still, I may not sound as eloquent as some others might.

I want to talk to you today about life--not life as a fisherman or your lives here but the truth of what life really is. You see, this life was from the beginning, but this life appeared to me; I saw it; I heard it. In fact, these rough hands touched it. That's the life I want to tell you about--I want to tell everyone. Because this life was with God the Father Himself I believe if I tell you this you will have joy abounding.

When we heard of another man named John preaching in the wilderness of Judea and baptizing the people who repented from their sin, we became his disciples. But the core of his teaching was always that someone would come after him that would be greater than he was. You can know we looked forward very eagerly for the appearance of this man. One day John said something that was different from anything he had preached before: he noticed a man from Galilee--from Nazareth, a town not too far from where we lived--and announced, "Look, here is the lamb of God that will take away the sins of the world." We took note of this man and kept track of what he was doing.

We heard that he had taught in the synagogue with such authority that everyone was amazed. If the teachers of the law were so unsure about the meaning of Bible passages, how could this Nazarene--a carpenter from not too far away, in fact--be so confident about what it said?

My business partner, another fisherman named Peter, told me one day that his wife's mother had gotten sick with a high fever. This Nazarene, named Jesus, went to Peter's house and leaned over her and said only a few words and then the fever was gone. Peter was especially happy that Jesus had healed her right away. Since it was the Sabbath, no other doctors would have come until the sun had set.

The next time we saw Jesus, he had a whole crowd following him. He approached Peter because he already knew him and asked to let him use his fishing boat so he could preach to the crowd. Since sound travels well over water and there was a natural rise to the land from the water's edge, it was better than a stone amphitheatre. Peter was only too glad to lend him the boat since he had been fishing all night but had caught nothing.

Yes, I'm a businessman. I wondered whether Jesus would give Peter any money for the use of the boat, but he didn't. From where I was, his voice carried easily to me over the water when he said to Peter, "Go out to the deep water and put down your nets." Peter protested that all of us had been fishing all night but had caught nothing. Still, he did what Jesus asked. In no time, Peter was shouting for me and my brother James to come help. There were so many fish that the nets were breaking! We hurried over and took on as many fish as we could, but had to stop when we saw our ships were starting to sink from the weight of the fish! This was the greatest payment any fisherman has ever received for the temporary use of his boat! Jesus looked at each of us and said, "Don't be afraid. From now on you will catch men."

I walked away from my boats and nets--so did James. We followed Jesus. And we--well, my brother James died quite a while ago--I still follow him. And I always will.

May I tell you about this man? I listened to him preach for hours--often telling parables that referred to simple things in our lives--sheep, a net, a coin--often telling stories that were outside of our experience--a pearl of great price, a rich lord going away on a journey, a thirsty man in Hades--I thought I didn't understand his teaching because I'm uneducated. But the other men--like Peter, James, and others that joined our group later on didn't understand either. Very often after teaching the crowds, Jesus would take the time to sit down and explain his stories to us. I listened to him for more than three years and learned to love his voice. I yearn even today to hear it again.

I would love that voice, even if it rebuked me.

Jesus puzzled us when he heard that his dear friend Lazarus was sick but he didn't go immediately to heal him. He had healed all sorts of people--quickly, and without any effort--but he purposely waited days before going to Bethany. The sisters of Lazarus were mourning his death, but Jesus spoke to them gruffly, "Your brother will rise again. Didn't I tell you that if you believed you would see the glory of God." He seemed doctrinaire and unfeeling. But then I remember his commanding shout, "Lazarus, come out!" You should have seen the eyes of the Pharisees bug out of their head! You should have heard the cries of Mary and Martha, overjoyed to be with their brother again!

I remember the way he rebuked us when he prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane. We were tired from a busy week and had just had a large meal at Passover time. It was very late at night, and Jesus wanted to pray. Peter and James and I wanted to sleep. Jesus asked us to pray with him--and if I could do it over, I would pray with him--but while he prayed, we slept. He came twice to wake us, and rebuked us for not staying awake with him. Only later, when the soldiers came to arrest him could we see by the light of their torches that Jesus was really worked up and worn out. I wish I could have been with him to encourage him at this crisis point of his life.

I remember that night in the storm on the Sea of Galilee when we saw what looked like a ghost walking on the water. I'm ashamed to admit that we were all terrified. But, Peter was brave and shouted, "Lord, if it is you, tell me to come to you on the water." I can still remember the single word he shouted above the waves and through the roaring wind--"Come!"

As I stand here, I can remember the smells I associate with him. Because the twelve of us often slept together with him, I can remember waking in a room with the smell of thirteen men hanging in the air. I can remember waking out of doors and smelling the morning freshness through the dust of the ground we had slept on. I remember greeting him with a kiss and tasting on his lips the wine he had just drunk and smelling the warm dank odor of his sweat.

Many a time as we traveled, Jesus gripped my arm or laid his hand on my shoulder or embraced me. When we sat in a boat, his muscular body jostled against my own. When we reclined at a meal, he might be behind me, so I could lean back against his hard chest to make a private comment.

I remember walking on one of our many trips between Galilee and Jerusalem, I don't remember which direction we were going, but I reached out to touch his arm to catch his attention, and my hand slipped on his sweaty skin. I glanced over and saw that a small crumb of bread was caught in his beard. But when he turned toward me, the wind blew, and as the beard waved in the breeze, the crumb flew away. I looked straight into his eyes. His look made me feel loved, loved more by him than by anyone else I knew.

Another time we were at someone's house to eat--I forget whose--and, as usual we sat down so that a servant could come wash the dust off our feet. I was seated beside him that day, and noticed the servant unbind Jesus' sandals and place his foot in the basin of water. I noted that the clear water turned dark from the dust, but the skin turned darker too now that the dust was washed off. With the grey dust off, the black hair on his legs accented his skin color.

May I tell you something else about my friend? He was the closest of all of my friends. Yes, he was my teacher--and more than a teacher--he was someone I considered my lord. I did whatever he told me to, because he deserved that authority over me. But he was also the person I considered to be my loving friend, the best friend I have ever had.

I remember the shock, the pain I felt when he was arrested that night in the garden. What could the three of us with him do when armed men came with some officials from the chief priests and Pharisees? Jesus had said that he knew something important--so important that it was going to fulfill Scripture--was going to happen, and he asked how many weapons we had. Among us, we had two swords, and he said that was enough. When the soldiers came, should we have defended him with those swords? Peter drew his and ended up chopping off the ear of the high priest's servant, but that didn't do any good. Jesus even reached down and picked up the bloody ear and put it back on the servant's head. It didn't seem to make sense.

Peter and I followed the soldiers as they took Jesus to the house of the high priest. The girl at the door wouldn't let Peter into the courtyard, but because I had connections there, she let me in. I took a look first to see what was happening and then I went back and said a few words to the girl at the door and she let Peter in.

Do you know what it is like to watch the person you love most suffer painful, shameful, unfair, inhuman treatment? I watched the high priest question Jesus. One of the officials reached over and slapped Jesus for one of his answers.

They took Jesus to see Caiaphas and then to see Pontius Pilate and then to see Herod. Pilate had Jesus flogged, and the soldiers put a crown of thorns on his head, and then Pilate condemned Jesus to be crucified. That was a very long walk to Golgotha. Some women that followed Jesus walked along the way, and I followed too.

I stood at the foot of Jesus' cross and watched him hang there in agony, the nails in his hands and feet, blood coming down his face from the wounds and from the crown of thorns on his head. He writhed and gasped even to breathe. What could we do when our own Jewish leaders had teamed up with the hated Romans to put to death one of our own community who had broken no law?

The man who had preached authoritatively for hours now gasped short bursts of words. "Woman, here is your son," he said to Mary. To me he said, "Here is your mother." I knew he was putting her into my care. Of course, I would do anything for him.

And then I watched the man I loved most in the world . . . die. Have you watched one of your friends die? His breathing stopped. His body slumped down; his head dangled awkwardly down over his chest. It was the most offensively distasteful scene imaginable.

From very young, I have heard Moses read in the synagogues. We read through the whole Torah--the law--every year. I would watch as a boy as the men would turn the scroll slowly throughout the year. I remember what some might call the high point of the whole Torah. Moses was on Sinai and he was receiving the Law from God and he said to God, "Show me your glory." God said Moses wouldn't be able to see it and live, so God put Moses in a crevasse in the rock and God put his hand over the rock and then passed by so Moses could see only his back. What a change in Moses! When he came down the mountain, Moses' face shone so brightly, the people had to cover it with a veil.

Show me your glory--the high point of Moses' life.

God said that he didn't use dreams and visions with Moses, the way he spoke to other prophets. With Moses, he spoke face to face. And Moses saw God's glory.

I remember one day, Jesus took Peter, James, and me with him, and we hiked up a rather high mountain. At the top, something happened that caught the three of us by surprise. Jesus' body changed. His face shone brightly. Even his clothes turned completely white, whiter than I have ever seen any clothes. A booming voice came from heaven declaring, "This is my son whom I love. I am pleased with him. Listen to him."

Yes, we believed already that Jesus is the Son of God. Peter had already confessed to him that he knew Jesus is the Christ, the son of the living God. Andrew had recognized Jesus as the promised Messiah--the Christ--even before he introduced Peter--my business partner--to Jesus. Philip had recognized Jesus as the coming one promised by Moses and the prophets and told Nathanael, and Nathanael right away declared that Jesus is the Son of God.

But that day on the mountain, we saw his glory, the glory of the only Begotten, the One and Only from the Father.

Immediately we noticed two men standing with Jesus--one was Moses, the other was Elijah. With complete clarity, we saw from the presence of these two men that Jesus was the Christ that Moses and the prophets had foretold for centuries. Every Sabbath in the synagogue we had heard Messiah prophesied. Now we could see with our own eyes that Moses and Elijah were affirming and confirming that Jesus was the one they had been talking about. And we saw Jesus in his glory.

The next thing we knew we felt Jesus touching us to wake us. "Get up," he said, "Don't be afraid." Only Jesus was there--Moses and Elijah were gone; Jesus' face and clothes were back to normal. Had I only dreamt the glorious events that were still a clear memory in my mind? No, I hadn't, because Jesus said, "Don't talk about these things until I have risen from the dead." I understood the first part of his sentence--Jesus didn't want us to tell others what happened. But I couldn't understand what Jesus meant about rising from the dead.

But later I did.

After Jesus died, I didn't know what to do. I ended up being with Peter--my old business partner--and talked with him about what he had seen and done. Peter the rash, John the son of Thunder--we were now two helpless men, emasculated by the key leaders of our society.

On Sunday morning Mary Magdalene came running to see Peter and me. She was all excited about something and said many things that didn't add up or make any sense. We could only figure out that she was saying someone had stolen the body of Jesus from the tomb. Couldn't they leave him alone in death? The Jewish leaders had bullied Jesus for three years while he had taught what Moses had taught. Then they framed him and put him to death in a horrible way. Now they had to drag his corpse away somewhere. Peter and I felt some of our old energy and we ran to the tomb.

Sure enough, the soldiers were lying at the side of the tomb. The stone was rolled back. I couldn't go in but stayed at the doorway. Peter caught up with me and then hurried in. When I walked in afterwards, I saw strips of linen there and I saw the cloth that had bound Jesus' head folded up at the side. No one stealing a body would leave things this way. Jesus had to be risen! He had risen from the dead.

Remember, he had raised Jairus' daughter--only Peter, James and I had seen it.
He had raised the son of that widow in Nain.
He had raised Lazarus!
Of course, he could rise again too!

How happy I was for the next forty days. Jesus appeared to us from time to time--in a locked room, by the Sea of Galilee, on the sides of a mountain. I was thrilled to hear his familiar voice, to see his face, to grip his body, and talk to him. Suddenly, one day without any forewarning, he rose up to heaven again, and we were told he would come again. We waited many years, many decades without seeing him.

But I saw him again. Yes, not too long ago.

Here, on the Island of Patmos, in the westernmost part of Asia, on one Sunday I suddenly heard a commanding voice--"Write down what you see!" I turned around and saw seven golden lampstands and in the middle of them, I saw Jesus.

He was glorious!
How do I express it . . . a long robe, a golden belt,
Hair a brilliant white, eyes blazing like fire
A booming voice, a shining face
Seven stars in his hand, a sword coming from his mouth

With joy. . .
With fear . . .
In full worship I fell at his glowing feet.

Then I felt him touch my shoulder as he had on the mountain that time. "Don't be afraid. I was dead, but now I am alive . . .forever. I have authority over death and Hades."

I obeyed.

And then he showed me more of his glory: He took me up to heaven, and I saw wonderful living creatures and twenty four elders praising the Most High. They watched as Jesus walked out and took the scroll that no one else had the authority to open, and he ripped open each seal. He looked like a lamb, one that had been killed--and it reminded me of what the other John--the one who baptized so many people--had called him--the Lamb of God. And then the wonderful living creatures and the twenty-four elders bowed down before Jesus and praised him saying, "You are worthy! You bought mankind with your blood! You made them to be royal priests!"

And then angels . . . . literally millions of them chorused in a thundering voice proclaiming, "You are worthy! You died! Now you are worthy to receive power, wealth, wisdom, strength, honor, glory, praise!"

And then everyone--everything that God created--joined in with the angels and sang together "Praise and honor and glory and power to the Most High and to Jesus the Lamb!"

Then there gathered a crowd of people--more than anyone could count--from every country, every ethnic group, every language and they shouted loudly, "Salvation is God's and the Lamb's!"

And afterward, I heard what resembled loud peals of thunder announcing, "The Lamb's wedding! The bride is ready!"

And then I saw the groom--Jesus, whose eyes blazed like fire, under a forehead ringed with many crowns riding on a white horse and wielding from his mouth a victorious sharp sword to destroy his enemies. His white robe was emblazoned with King of Kings and Lord of Lords!

And then, a great white throne exalted and ominous. And Jesus seated there to judge all that had died.

And then a glimpse of heaven . . . a glorious place that had no temple. But there wasn't a need for a temple. The Lamb is the temple.

And then the vision was over, and I was back here on Patmos in Asia. But the memory stays with me. I know my time here on earth isn't long anymore. And when I leave here, I will see Jesus again, as I saw him in the vision.

And I can't wait to see him.