Jesus had invited me to make a choice: “Continue to live life your way, or believe and follow Me.”
Jesus intrigued me. He felt close but mysterious at the same time. Reading the Gospels, it was obvious I was not the only one who felt this way. Two thousand years ago, Jesus was immensely popular with the people in Galilee. He worked many miracles, healed many people and even empowered His disciples to do likewise. They must have been thoroughly amazed and delighted to witness all the beautiful things that happened in Jesus' name. Yet, Jesus was not always understood. His own relatives thought him out of his mind for getting Himself into trouble with the scribes and chief priests whose smug superiority over the people was undermined by Jesus' works and preaching. All too often, even His own disciples did not understand Him. I could understand the disciples' repeated bewilderment. For instance, when they were in their boat, battling the waves in a storm, Jesus came to them walking on the sea. When they saw Him, they were terrified, thinking He was a ghost. Jesus proceeded to calm both His disciples as well as the sea. Another time, Jesus and His disciples were together in a boat. A storm arose and the waves beat into the boat. When the boat started filling with water, the disciples feared they would all perish. Jesus, however, was asleep on a cushion in the back of the boat.
They woke him and said to him, “Teacher, do you not care if we perish?” And he awoke and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, “Peace! Be still!” And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm. He said to them, “Why are you afraid? Have you no faith?” And they were filled with awe, and said to one another, “Who then is this, that even wind and sea obey him?” (Mark 4:38-41)
When I read this, I remembered the banner made by Jane's feng shui master and realised it had been a loving yet ultimately futile effort as, evidently, “feng” (wind) and “shui” (water) were both answerable to Jesus. It once again pointed out the fallacy of taking matters solely into our own hands, trying to calm the "storm" with our own might. The disciples knew Jesus could save them, otherwise, as seasoned sailors, they would not have called on Him for help. Yet, Jesus asked them why they had no faith. This passage resonated with me because I could understand the disciples' feeling. Like them, I also believed that Jesus had the power. In their case the power to save them from the storm and in our case the power to heal Naomi. After what they had experienced following Jesus, there should have been no reason for them to be afraid, for He was with them. Reflecting on what we experienced in the last two years, I felt confident that Jesus was also with us and that He would ultimately heal Naomi, which is why I had written down those seven points: to remind myself when my doubts would resurface.
The disciples asked Jesus if He actually cared that they were in danger. What must have rattled them was that whilst they were on the verge of perishing, Jesus was asleep and seemed to have no notion of the storm at all. They had no lack of faith in His ability to save them but they did seem to doubt about Jesus' attentiveness to their rather pressing needs. Paulina had similar doubts, questioning at times why Jesus seemed to ignore her prayers. I had doubts too. Not about Jesus' sensitivity to our needs but rather about whether or not it was His will to heal Naomi. In my heart I felt confident but in my mind I had to fight off nagging doubts. I knew that Jesus had a plan for us but I sometimes wondered if that plan included Naomi's healing. Maybe, just maybe, Jesus would accomplish "greater things" with Naomi without healing her. That selfishly worried me. When Jesus asked His disciples why they were afraid and had no faith, I could almost hear Him sighing, saying: "Do you not know that I am fully aware of your needs? I love you. Trust that I will take care of you." That was precisely what I struggled with. I did not know how to let go and let Jesus take care. What if his plan included something I could not accept? If so, would His will ultimately become my will too? It reminded me of Naomi's book and how it lead me to the Lord's Prayer in which Jesus taught His disciples to pray that the Father's will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.
I then knew that Jesus was there with Naomi when she picked that book from the school library shelf, just like He was there with the disciples in their boat. When they marvelled at Jesus, I marvelled too: at Jesus but also his disciples, for they had turned to Him in their need. My entire life, I had never even bothered to pay attention to Jesus, let alone reach out to Him. Not for small things, not for big things and certainly not for anything requiring a miracle. Yet, He had reached out to me well before I finally reached out to Him.
Those who got to know Jesus two thousand years ago and witnessed His works, were generally both amazed and afraid. Another striking example of this I found in the Gospel of Luke. Similar to how Jesus brought Lazarus back to life, Luke recounts how Jesus resurrected another man; not through touch but again by speech. This man happened to be the only son of a widow. When Jesus saw his body being carried out of the city, He had compassion on the widow, walked up to her and told her not to weep.
Jesus came and touched the bier, and the bearers stood still. And he said, “Young man, I say to you, arise.” And the dead man sat up, and began to speak. And he gave him to his mother. Fear seized them all; and they glorified God, saying, “A great prophet has arisen among us!” and “God has visited his people!” (Luke 7:14-16)
The people saw a man performing a miracle but understood that His mighty deed was not of man but of God. They realised that God was in their midst and that frightened them. I could see why. Right in front of them, Jesus had manifested His power over life and death by doing the impossible: bringing a dead man back to life. I imagined how I would have reacted if I had been there to see this miracle unfold. Immediately after the initial shock, people praised God for His love and mercy for the widow and her son.
The people understood they were in the company of someone special, such as a great prophet, but they did not yet comprehend Jesus' true identity. When the hour of His death drew near, Jesus became far more forthright about Who He really was:
The Jews gathered round him and said to him, “How long will you keep us in suspense? If you are the Christ, tell us plainly.” Jesus answered them: “I told you, and you do not believe. The works that I do in my Father’s name, they bear witness to me; but you do not believe, because you do not belong to my sheep. My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me; and I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish, and no one shall snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all, and no one is able to snatch them out of the Father’s hand. I and the Father are one.” (John 10:24-30)
Jesus, as requested, had told them plainly: He, the Son of God, the Christ, was God himself. And He nearly got himself stoned for making what the Jews considered an outrageous and blasphemous claim. Quite a claim indeed. In fact, it was not just a claim, it was a claim supported by an abundance of works. Works that, tellingly, even the scribes and chief priests who clearly opposed Jesus, never challenged. They did not dispute the miracles the people (and they themselves!) had witnessed but rather the power by which Jesus performed them, charging He was possessed by the devil. It did not stop Jesus from making other remarkable claims. This one stood out to me:
"No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him." (John 6:44)
After reading this, I realised that through what had happened with Naomi, our Father in Heaven had drawn me to Jesus. Immediately that notion of us being somehow privileged to experience all this suffering popped into mind again. Now I understood why I felt this way. The quarter finally dropped when I heard Jesus say the following:
"I am the way, and the truth, and the life; no one comes to the Father, but by me." (John 14:6)
Jesus had invited me to make a choice: “Continue to live life your way, or believe and follow Me.” Just like it is impossible to walk up to a crackling fire and not feel the heat, it was impossible for me not to feel the warmth of Christ's love once I had finally inched closer to Him. All along, my ignorant, closed up heart had been slowly warming up to Jesus. I felt the Son shining on me.
I picked up Naomi’s book again, browsed through it looking at the illustrations and ended up staring at the last page...
Like the man in the story, I too had taken off my coat (my “armoured suit”), had lowered my defences and allowed the rays of Jesus' love to touch my heart. Realising I had been gifted the grace to believe, I accepted Jesus' invitation and instantly felt the urgent desire to be baptised with the Holy Spirit and become, like Saint Rigby was, a Roman Catholic.
