Saint Peter was a bit of an upside down personality, according to the author’s drinking buddy, God.
When we got together for coffee one morning, God said, “When I was telling you about crackpot conversions, I somehow forgot to mention Saint Peter, otherwise known as “The Rock.” This was a reference to his rock-hard faith in Jesus.”
“He was also called ‘the fisher of men,’ I seem to recall,” I observed.
“That’s true, but I don’t think he ever fished for men. Or women, either. He’d throw a baited line into the Sea of Galilee and pull out a tilapia or a catfish, then say to his catch, ‘Okay, fishy, put your faith in Jesus.’ Or he’d tell the fish, ‘Lucky you! After you’re filleted and fried, you’ll be going to Heaven.’ Sometimes he would catch and then release a fish so that it could spread the Word of Jesus to other fish.”
“Rather than the Rock, I think he should have been called ‘Off the Rocker.’”
“Especially when he’d take a batch of his fish to a temple and place them on pews so they could listen to the preacher proclaiming the Gospels. Certain temples ended up smelling powerfully of rotten fish. So powerfully that a number of decent Christians gave up their faith because they felt it had gotten a very bad odor.”
“Did you punish Peter? Nowadays he would be put in a home for the mentally compromised — aka loonies.”
“I planned to break all his fishing rods, but he decided that, having done so well with fish, he would try to convert the Romans. Whereupon he traveled to Rome in order to do so. Shortly after his arrival, he approached the Emperor Nero and told him to stop playing his fiddle because, according to Peter, ‘the Word of Christ is much better than your music.’ This was a bad mistake, one that inspired Nero to crucify Saint Peter upside down. Truth to tell, he was upside down already.”
“We know the last words of Jesus on the Cross? What were the last words of Peter on his cross?”
“‘Lord Jesus Christ, I’ll be making my trip to Heaven feet first!’”
At this point, God and I ordered a second cup of coffee. The barista must have heard the tail end of our conversation, because she delivered our coffee, then said, “Here’s your own trip to heaven, guys.”
Part of a series detailing Lawrence Millman’s experiences with his drinking buddy, God. Soon to be gathered together, assuming a publisher is interested, as a mini-memoir entitled “Drinks With God.”