Mauro Giuseppe LeporiExtracted from the book Simone Chiamato Pietro
In the footsteps of a man pursuing God
For six days Simon stood a bit apart: he remained in the group and listened to Jesus but did not dare to talk to Him, ask Him questions or come up with the usual comments. And yet he could clearly see that the attitude of the Teacher towards him had not changed. Jesus did not hold a grudge against anyone, not even against the Pharisees with whom he often argued. The anger of Jesus was not the kind of outburst common among men. Peter realized that the Lord's anger was always the expression of profound suffering. Every time the Teacher turned severe or was coarse with them, they quickly understood that in such occasions Jesus did not have any other way of expressing how much he loved them.
Truly the Teacher appeared to treat Peter more abruptly than he treated the others. In the beginning Simon suffered because he was under the impression that Jesus did not find him very likable, but later he acknowledged that the fault was in his own character. It was he who provoked Jesus' reaction. In every occasion Peter ended up upset with himself: "Why do you always have to make your remarks, speak your mind, answer when no one has asked you, or when the matter does not concern you?" Nevertheless, every time, Peter was the first to ask for forgiveness, make up for his mistakes and his uncontrollable outbursts.
In time however, Peter realized that his understanding was too superficial because he could see that Jesus never reacted instinctively at other's actions. His patience was infinite. Peter understood that in Jesus everything was love and desire for His neighbor's good. Then, he thought, he had to ask himself what greater good Jesus desired for him when He treated him so harshly.
After feeling anguished and wounded at first, Peter started to reflect on Jesus' recent reaction. Never had the Teacher been so harsh and offensive with him or with any other person: "Stand behind me, Satan!" He had given him the title of His own worst enemy, the one against whom Jesus struggled. How many times had Peter been present with the others at the disputes between the Teacher and the demons that possessed so many a hapless one! It was horrible to hear them scream and howl once they were caught. Then Simon remained troubled, with a feeling of fright that caused him nightmare after nightmare. He could find peace only by getting close to Jesus or at least thinking of Him.
But now, it was him whom Jesus had called Satan! All because Peter rebelled at the thought that the Lord could suffer and die terribly. Peter wondered if there was any connection with Jesus' prediction defining him as the "rock" of His Church and the destiny that He had announced for Himself. Simon would have never ever accepted any appointments or honors if it were at the cost of the suffering and death of his Teacher and friend. Never! Jesus should have understood that! And then after all, what was that Church and Kingdom that Jesus was talking about?
Peter became silent. The Lord's violent reaction suggested to him that the connection between the mission entrusted to him and the suffering death of Jesus was necessary and indissoluble, and therefore he could not go any deeper in that friendship without embracing the Teacher's dark destiny. Simon wondered if the day when he had responded to the Lord's call with infinite joy had even lead to this. He recalled the euphoric happiness of his first steps following Jesus. Back then, everything was so serene and simple. It is true that there were plenty of difficulties to bear, but everything was immersed in and covered by the sweet experience of the Rabbi's friendship and love. Now, instead, the difficulty was not something external or aside of the relationship with Him: it was inside of that relationship. That represented an unbearable wound for Peter, because for him no possibility of consolation existed outside of the Lord's friendship. If it was true that he had turned into something like Satan; lost, accursed, and far from God, then this friendship, the only one that had given him the certainty of salvation, was shattered.
Peter now began to wait. He really did not know anything for sure; he knew it was impossible to grasp the situation intuitively. That had to be something that surpassed all those conjectures burning in his mind like a mortal fever. Thus, a sense of relief came over him. Six days later, Jesus suddenly called him along with James and John to depart for a secret place that the other nine apostles should not know. They left the populated areas and began to climb the side of a hill. They walked for several hours in a silence that the three disciples dared not to break, not even to ask one another where they were going. Peter walked with an aura of serenity in his heart. He told himself that, whatever was about to happen this time between the Teacher and him, was what had freed him from the delirious thoughts that obsessed him for six days and six nights.
Jesus was pensive, engrossed in prayer. He preceded them climbing the mountain on a rocky trail with a regular pace that appeared to be carefully kept not to disturb the depth of His thoughts.
Once He arrived at the top of the mountain Jesus began to pray. His gestures and expressions were those the disciples caught Him often using, even though He loved to go a distance from them to pray to the Father. This time however Jesus did not try to distance Himself from the other three. Thus they felt increasingly uncomfortable to be so near of Jesus' prayer, as if they were obliged to contemplate a secret that, once unveiled, would later weigh on their consciences.
The people envied their intimacy with the great Rabbi who attracted crowds and performed miracles. That intimacy, the disciples felt, increased always in depth and surpassed the weak forces of their intelligence and of their hearts. Since He had began talking about the hour of suffering and His approaching death, Jesus had become for the disciples like the burning bush of Moses: they were attracted to it but the more they approached it, the more they felt wounded by their own lack of dignity.
These feelings even changed the relationship among the Twelve. The distance that seemed to grow between their own wretchedness and the mystery of the Lord, made them agree in a desire for reciprocal compassion, a desire that none of them could satisfy. Peter felt always closer to the youngest son of Zebedee, John. Jesus also loved this disciple more than the others, but such preference did not disturb him at all because he intuitively knew that it could be destined to any of them, and John had at least the merit of receiving it with simplicity. Therefore Peter looked more for the company of John than that of the others. They did not talk much but John seemed to radiate the effects of a particular relationship with the Teacher that was communicated mysteriously to all of those who were near to him.
On the mountain the three men felt impelled to gather close to each other, insofar as between them and Jesus a strong sense of distance was growing deeper. His return was imminent. Was He sad? Was He happy? It was as if suffering and joy came mysteriously to coincide in the Lord, as a more and more intense glow blinded their terrified eyes. Vigil and sleep, light and night, the brightness of the sun and the darkness of dense clouds, silence and deafening sound, all of these melted before their gaze fixed on the look of Jesus: It was the same familiar face, but now they found it strange.
Jesus was alone and silent yet two prophets were talking with Him. The disciples did not hear anything of what they were saying but they guessed they were talking about that which Jesus had been announcing for some time and which they did not want to hear about. And the glorious light that now blinded them seemed to be coming forth from that darkness, just like the golden dawn rises from the night.
Peter now finds himself as happy as he has ever been and he understands that even joy like light, has its source in the dark mysteries that those three were talking about. Peter surmised that he was participating in Jesus' joy, and that there was no room for the sadness of the past few days. How he felt as his own, for himself, the joy of Jesus! It was more his own than his sadness had ever been. This joy descended upon him, it came inside him, it was coming down from the sublime vision upon the misery that he knew to be his, and a misery that Jesus loved more than one could possibly endure. He felt so loved as he was, without deserving it, that it turned to be completely natural to speak to Jesus in the midst of that light, like if he had been in the middle of any commonplace event. He felt he could say almost anything his own nature and—why not?—his own absent-mindedness, dictated. Like a child, he just spoke what was in his heart: "Teacher, it is wonderful for us to be here! So let us make three shelters one for You, one for Moses, and one for Elijah." (Luke 9, 33).
But the darkness that fell suddenly on them blocked those words on his lips, and his heart lost immediately the childlike innocent serenity which he believed he had regained shortly before. He almost said to himself "No Simon, you are not innocent!" Another voice more potent immersed him into total silence: "This is my Son the Beloved: listen to Him!" (Mark 9, 7).
The voice sounded like the outbreak of thunder, as if voice and word never had neither origin nor end. Although at that precise moment everything was returned to normal around them, on the face of Jesus remained imprinted a sense of eternity, at the same time terrifying and sweet. Jesus came near and said calmly "Let us descend, let us keep silent!".
Translated by Carlos Caso-Rosendi
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