Pops has just told Mark about how he started following Jesus. The bar still isn’t too busy yet, so Pops says to Mark, “Now it’s your turn to tell a story. How are things going with Peter?”
“Well,” Mark half moans, “Peter’s a tornado. The stories just pour out of him, and most of them turn into a sermon of sorts. He spent a ton of time with Jesus. Now that Jesus is gone, though, I think Peter’s starting to realize the gigantic task ahead of him. He oozes confidence, but sometimes I pick up on some bluff in what he’s planning, you know?”
“Yeah,” Pops agrees, “all that sounds like Peter. And you’ve got enough stuff for your book?”
“I’ve got too much! Focusing this book is going to be a challenge. Peter has a million stories, but they’re short on detail. I might want to write a whole page on something, but he gives me a sentence or two, and then he’s on to the next story. I appreciate brevity, but he’s in a whole different category.”
“Woof,” sympathizes Pops. “Peter’s the golden retriever of the group, for sure. Easily distracted, super lovable, and up for anything. Can I offer some bartenderly advice?”
“I’m all ears.”
“Peter’s not gonna change, but you can embrace that. Focus on what’s unique about him. He’s bold and strong and tells the truth—just like he’s a complete jackass sometimes!”
Mark tries not to spray beer out of his nose while Pops grins and continues.
“Peter’s always been an enigma. Most of us who follow Jesus know about Peter being the first to proclaim him as divine. But fewer know how conflicted Peter was that night Jesus was arrested. You can tell both stories. Oh, and ask him about the time Jesus called him Satan—that might be an important part of your book.”
“So you’re suggesting,” Mark responds, “that I highlight the human side of Peter?”
“Sorta … ” Pops muses. “Look, you’re obviously a talented writer. You’ll probably finish your book first, and I’m guessing the others will copy some of your stuff. Well, probably not John. That guy seems like he’s in a different cosmos sometimes. Point is, you’ll need to pick the perfect stories to show what Jesus’s life meant. That’s the focus: Jesus. But since your source is Peter, you can’t help but tell his story too. Peter’s contradictions will help people see Jesus even better, if that makes sense.”
While Pops puts a load of glasses in the dishwasher, Mark sips his IPA and thinks. It does make sense. Keep Jesus at the center of the book. Keep the stories short, simple, and direct—and also let the world see the full humanity of the storyteller. Let the reader lean into the contrasts.
Next time Pops walks past, Mark asks, “Is it wrong to be intimidated by the other guys? Luke, well, he’s just brilliant. His research is second to none. John was the disciple. And Matthew’s used to getting his way.”
“True on all three counts, but I’m all out of advice for now,” answers Pops.
Right then Matthew walks up. He gives Pops a funny look and grabs a stool next to Mark at the bar. “Long day?” he asks Mark.
“With Peter? For sure, but I got so many good stories. You were there for most of them. Mind if I ask you to fill in some details Peter left out?”
“Or exaggerated?” Matthew suggests. “Happy to, as long as you buy the first round.”
The next hour flies by as Mark and Matthew share notes and sip beers. Eventually John and Luke arrive, and the four of them order one of Pops’ famous pita platters with extra olives and anchovies before heading to their booth.
The four writers are so deep in conversation—and snacking—that they don’t notice Mary arrive. She sits at the far end of the bar, where she can spy on the boys and also control the jukebox. (She deems it a community service after Pops recently played Lady Gaga’s “Judas” five times in a row.)
Pops walks past, and she puts a hand on his forearm.
“It’s working,” she whispers.
He nods and smiles back.
Until tomorrow, when the boys get into another argument.
Image by Gemini.