Decisive Encounters

Upon closing His carpentry shop, His family circle and His neighbors insisted that He was making a serious mistake. Being such a good professional and with His exceptional talent, leaving the modest security of His customers, thereby risking His future, seemed like madness to them. It always happens like so. If the greatest resistance to do something big tends to come from ourselves, the most reticent opposition to assume new risks can emerge from our closest surroundings and from those who love us most.

But Jesus does not seek an easy life, sheltered by His many relatives:12 He wants a useful life, even if no one supports Him. His ideal does not belong to this world, and for that reason He does not follow in the footsteps of the majority. He has a dream, a grand plan. He wants to try something new to build a better world, changing people’s lives.13 And He aspires to share his ideals, dreams, and plans with the best youth of the country. He does not have experience, titles, means, or influences. But He has God and that is enough to feel optimistic, spirited, and strong.

Furthermore, His first two disciples are already there, waiting to receive their first lesson. This lesson, initial and definitive,14 is the most important of all. It consists of merely discovering the power that the divine presence transmits in the life of whoever seeks it. And He is pleased to accompany those who really seek Him, no matter how young they are and how confused they find themselves.

There is no inhabited place on the entire way from the Dead Sea to Jericho. However, the Teacher without hesitating takes His new friends to the place where He claims to reside at the moment. Without a doubt, it involves the place where He had stayed during his visit to the Baptist, about forty days ago . . . a cave such as many that abound in the area? A shed built with reeds, like those that are occupied one after another by travelers at the side of the road? Or rather, He leads them to a selected place whereupon to pitch the tent He is carrying in His backpack, like so many travelers?15 The old texts do not state it. But they specify that the young men went and saw where the traveling rabbi was dwelling, and that He shared with them His poor lodging until the following day.

They would soon decide to remain with Him forever.16

They will never forget the exact hour of that decisive moment: the tenth hour, penultimate hour of the afternoon.17

The day draws to a close on the travelers. The sun sets between golden-reddish clouds. But in the hearts of those three young men something very new awakens.

A magical, pivotal encounter for the disciple apprentices as well as for the new Teacher . . .

What might they have talked about on that unforgettable evening under the stars? The writings of the main characters do not mention it.18 They specify only that the moment at which these young travelers encounter Jesus and decide to stay with Him marks a milestone in their history. Because with Him they found what they were seeking, many things that they were not seeking, other things that they were seeking without knowing it and something much better than what they were seeking.

The lesson that the new Teacher begins to impart involves a verb that is conjugatable in all persons, in all tenses, and in all forms: the verb “to love.”19 An irregular and unpredictable verb where it exists because it is at odds with imperatives; it lacks perfect tenses; and its present tends to be imperfect and its future conditional. A verb that demands to be exercised in all its forms and with all its synonyms: to like, to appreciate, to take in, to support, to value, to respect, to share. But because the conjugation of that verb does not fit in books, these first disciples must learn it in the action.

With astonishment, they discover that the personification of the verb to love has set out to encounter them on the path of their search, and is catching up to them where they are, in that unexpected camping.20 If to love is really to seek the good of the other, to want their happiness, these disciples discover love incarnate in Jesus, solidarity in person, and the practical demonstration of what it is to really love, unconditionally: not an ephemeral feeling but an engine of action. Vital principle that permeates their person and that makes them recognize in their Teacher someone who comes from God.21

John, probably the youngest disciple, years later alludes to that feeling as so indefinable and new, which he began to experience that day in the presence of the Teachers’s amazing capability for empathy, “feeling accepted and understood but not daring to express gratitude for it.”22 And since then he appoints himself with the most daring honorific title anyone had ever flaunted: “the disciple whom Jesus loved.” 23

Therefore the great lesson from the Teacher to His first disciples and to all those who will follow them is to learn to conjugate the verb to love. Beginning right there and continuing in their homes, in their neighborhoods, in the towns where they live, in the shops where they work, in the spaces where they enjoy recreation and, of course, in the sanctuaries where they worship. If the divine Word has come closer to them because of love, practicing the verb to love will now also be the way to get closer to another and elevate themselves to heaven.

And so, the young men discover that, in the company of Jesus, to find the meaning of their lives, they do not need to seek a place but a person. That to feel the presence of God, withdrawing themselves to the solemnity of a temple is not necessary. His closeness is also found in the refreshing embrace of water from a bath at sundown. That to enter into communion with the sustainer of all things, participating in the ritual of a sacrifice, is not necessary. One can take communion with Him by gratefully sharing several bits of pomegranate and a handful of dates. That to get closer to the Creator of the universe, no mystical initiation is required; allowing yourself be carried away by the emotion of an astonished contemplation of the stars suffices.

The travelers have found the Teacher whom were searching for. But the latter puzzles them. He shatters all their plans. He does not fall within any of their categories. They do not know how to describe Him: admirable adviser, Teacher and friend, path and goal, love in person, serene joy, truth and life . . .

His words are at the same time so simple and profound that each of His reflections seems inexhaustible, in a way that they never reach the depth of his thoughts.

There is, as well, something that deeply moves and scares them. Because the Teacher caresses, with amazing realism, the impossible dream of the most ambitious prophets and reformers: to change the world.

And they would like to be a part of that dream.

But, will they be capable of following the Teacher in such an inconceivable plan?

1. The Depression of the Dead Sea is the site of Sodom and Gommorah, consumed according to tradition by fire coming down from heaven (Gen. 19:1-28).

2 . Regarding the Essene community of Qumran, see Flavio Josefo, The Wars of the Jews, Book 1, Barcelona: Orbis, 1985, pp. 122-126.

3 . John 1:19-28.

4 . These are Jesus’ first words recorded in the Gospels (John 1:35-39, NKJV).

5 . John 1:35-37.

6 . Ellen G. White, The Desire of Ages, p. 112.

7 . My studies of the gospels have led me to the conclusion that these first disciples of Jesus were younger than 30 years of age. The first and foremost reason is that they call him “rabbi” (Teacher). Jesus was then about 30 years of age (Luke 3:23) and had never worked as a Teacher, but as a carpenter. In that patriarchal society (of traditional gerontocracy) it was not conceivable that a Teacher were younger than his disciples, or that he would take it upon himself to teach prior to 40 or 50 years of age. If these young men address Jesus calling him “rabbi” it was because they clearly appeared to be younger than he. Until the end of his ministry, Jesus continued calling them paidia (John 21:5), Greek term that means ‘children’ or ‘little children,’ an appellation that would be unthinkable in that culture if they had been older than he. They were more likely to be about 20 years of age. Their youth would explain their enormous availability, which allowed them to follow Jesus full time for more than three years, what would have been very difficult if they had had families to support (Luke 18:28-31). See Ellen G. White, The Desire of Ages, p. 73.

8 . “Only Jesus Christ, who bids us follow him, knows where the path will lead [. . .]. The following is the joy.” (Dietrich Bonhoeffer, The Cost of Discipleship. The Following, Salamanca: Sígueme, 2004, p. 12)

9 . See Matthew 3, 7-10 and parallels.

10 . In reality, Jesus threatens only those who dedicate themselves to threathening those who are weaker than they; that is, the Scribes and the Pharisees, who think that fear serves to obtain desired changes. But the threats achieve only external and fleeting changes. True transformation is born simultaneously from within and from above.

11 . The term “disciple” describes a follower of a Teacher who is in the process of learning.

12 . The Gospels say that Jesus had four brothers, named James, Joseph, Simon and Judas, in addition to several sisters (Matt. 13:55).

13 . “The life of Jesus can be seen from the perspective of change rather than conservation.” He was the Reformer of reformers, and His lever for reform was the revelation of God’s plan for humanity.” (George Knight, Philosophy & Education, Miami: APIA, 2002, p. 255)

14 . According to Matthew 28:20, the last words of Jesus will be: “And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”

15 . Paul of Tarsus, Jesus’ great disciple, made a living producing such tents (Acts 18:1-3).

16 . This availability confirms that these disciples were young. Some of their reflections, like the one expressed in Matthew 19:10 “if this is the situation between a husband and wife, it is better not to marry.” It would imply, based on the use of the aorist tense, that they were still single. The fact that we later find the disciple Peter already married, does not mean that he was older, given that the recommended age for marriage by the rabbis was from 16 to 24. His impulse of wanting to walk on water (today we would say “surfing without a board”) is much easier to understand as a juvenile fit—which the Teacher does not care to indulge—than a mature decision of an adult, who would not have dared to have such a crazy idea (Matt. 14:28-33). More than three years later, when John and Peter compete by racing to see who arrives first at the tomb, John has the naive satisfaction of indicating that he won the race (John 20:3-8). If you bear in mind that in such society the act of adults running in public was frowned upon, this “feat” clearly appears as a juvenile thing.

17 . The “tenth” hour is equivalent more or less to two hours before sunset (John 1:39).

18 . The author of this account is John, one of the travelers, who would go on to become an apostle (John 1:35-42).

19 . John 1:1-14.

20 . Hence, the first activity of Jesus’ public ministry was camping with the young men . . .

21 . “Every glance of the eye, every feature of the countenance, [. . .] expressive of unutterable love” (Ellen G. White, The Desire of Ages, p. 81). “God is love” John would write years later (1 John 4:8).

22 . [Translated quote] Antonio Muñoz Molina, Sefarad, Madrid: Editorial Santillana, 2001, pp. 291-192.

23 . John would sign his Gospel with the pseudonym of “the beloved disciple”or “the disciple whom Jesus loved” (John 21:20). “Even John, the beloved disciple — the one who most fully reflected the likeness of the Savior— did not naturally possess loveliness of character. He was not only self-assertive and ambitious for honor but impetuous and resentful under injuries. [. . .] The strength and patience, the power and tenderness, the majesty and meekness that he beheld in the daily life of the Son of God, filled his soul with admiration and love. Day by day his heart was drawn out toward Christ, until he lost sight of self in love for his Master. [. . .] The power of the love of Christ wrought a transformation of character.” (Ellen G. White, Steps to Christ, Madrid: Safeliz, 2018, p. 75)

2

The Invitation

The travelers arrive at Bethsaida with mixed feelings. On one hand, they are happy to return home; on the other, they find it difficult to say goodbye to the Teacher, who continues His route toward Galilee.1 Interacting with Him has been an unforgettable experience, which they would like to extend. Will they manage to get Him to stay with them, even if only for one more day?

The village receives them with its loose embrace, nestled between the lake and the stony hill, dotted with hamlets and small fields. Tender green sown fields stand out among the fallow land. Black cypresses, twisted carob and some pomegranate trees encircle the terraces. In the morning peace, the blows of the locals’ mattocks resonate crisp and deep against walls and cisterns, the cacophony of seagulls shaking in tempo.

Those on the way barely stop for an instant to drink from an old waterwheel in the first orchards. They are in a hurry to introduce the Teacher to their people.

The Galilean is an impassioned road companion, a free spirit. His new disciples are disoriented by the unpredictability of His actions and expressions. His personal way of teaching, in contrast to the Teachers from His land, is so open and new that each of His proposals seems to be a challenge, and even an act of protest. But for Him freedom is not the possibility of acting on a whim but the occasion of choosing the best.

The Teacher aspires to nothing less than changing the world, transforming people one by one, as attempting to produce a new type of human being.2 However, He is neither naive nor crazy: He is as realist as life itself. For that reason, He instilled His disoriented disciples, in addition to astonishment, with trust and respect.3

In every word He makes it clear that imparting lessons is not the same as being a Teacher. The Teachers of the law in His environment always want to teach; with Him, one always wants to learn.

It surprises them that He accepts followers as ill prepared as they are. He implies that, “in the soul of one who is ignorant there is always room for a great idea.”4 That is why He distrusts the arrogant scholars, who are so imbued with their own knowledge that they are incapable of learning anything new. He criticizes that, having the key of knowledge, able to open the gate of God’s kingdom, “You yourselves do not enter, nor will you let those enter who are trying to.” 5

From the beginning, He has made it very clear that He does not need to avail himself of locations reserved for lecturing sessions, neither to meet with God. He teaches them at any time and makes them feel close to heaven right where they are, whether on the road, under the palm trees of an orchard, among almond and olive trees, or at the very mountain.

On their way back to their homes, Andrew and John express an urgent desire to follow such a unique Teacher full time.

His school is one of free access, open to everyone. Without classrooms or schedules as in it you always learn and at any place . . . with no more manuals than divine revelation and the infinite universe. With no more exams and tests than those involved in existence. And without a graduation diploma, for in the school of life one never graduates.

The enthusiasm of these disciples is such that they do not cease to share their find with their families and friends.6 Influenced by the personality of the Teacher, aspiring to continue learning from Him, these restless, young men rejoice with what was discovered in their first lessons.7 Andrew transmits his joy to his brother Simon and introduces Him to Jesus. From one to another, they gradually pass on the news.

And that is how Jesus encounters Philip. Shortly after seeing him, with that glance that is much more far-reaching than the eyes, He tells him:

Follow Me.

Jesus appears not to see people for who they are, but for whom they can become.

The new disciple, dazzled by his new guide, runs in search of his friend Nathanael,8 to share with him the Joy of the discovery.9 With his heart pounding with excitement, he gives him the news:

I think we have found the Messiah.10 This Teacher is not any rabbi.

Impatient and eager for his friend to meet his new Teacher, Philip summarizes in one phrase the essence of all the conversations they held about the awaited liberator:

He must be the one sent by God, the one promised by the prophets. He is called Jesus, that is, “savior,” although people know him as “the Nazarene,” because he is the son of Joseph, the carpenter from Nazareth.

But his friend Nathanael,11 with a rough frankness typical of him, replies with a mocking gesture of mistrust:

Another Messiah? Do you not think that we already have enough disappointments? What’s more, can something good come out of Nazareth?12 How can you believe in a Galilean “savior?” Look in Scripture and you will see that no prophet ever comes out of Galilee.13

Nathanael is an idealist, committed and serious. But even the best believers have prejudices and run the risk of being mistaken.

Philip is hurt by his friend’s doubts, but he has no arguments to dispel them. Because he greatly cares for Nathanael, he foregoes discussing the subject with him. Convinced of its truth, he resorts to the only irrefutable reasoning, the same that was maintained by the Teacher with His first disciples, and that since then would be the principal argument of His recruitment campaign:

Come and see. Get out from under your fig tree, and follow me to Him. Convince yourself.14

Nathanael follows him half-heartedly.

Upon meeting Jesus, his disillusionment is confirmed. The demeanor and attire of the young rabbi does not go together with the idea that he has formed about such an important figure as the Messiah. He even finds it difficult to see in Him a Teacher worthy of trust. There, he only sees a mere traveler, dressed as they are, with the humble attire of poor people.15

But when Jesus observes Nathanael, who approaches him reticently, flaunting skepticism and self-sufficiency, he tells him with an intriguing smile:

“Well, if it is not clear to you that I am not even a good Jew, I see you as a true Israelite, in whom there is no deceit.”

It is like telling him:

“I like your sincerity and frankness. But don’t trust appearances too much.”

Surprised by these words, Nathanael exclaims:

From where do you know me?

The Teacher is very observant. It is not common to catch a young man praying. Healthy young people prefer to presume to be skeptical than devout. Jesus likes sincere and brave young people; that is why he confesses a small secret to him:

“Before Philip called you, when you were under the fig tree, I saw you. I immediately noticed what you were doing.”

Nathanael blushes. His modesty prevents him from revealing his spirituality. He also feels that his heart cannot hide anything from the Teacher’s piercing glance. He is ashamed of his foolishness and of his unfounded prejudices. He now senses that his friend Philip could be right.

Soon, after observing Jesus more closely and listening to His words, a strange certainty, as coming from heaven, enlightens his mind, and nudges him to confess:

—“You must be the Son of God, the awaited king of Israel.”

And Jesus replies, radiant, happy to have found a disciple so full of potential as that one:

—“You believe because I told you that I saw you under the fig tree? You will see greater things than these. I promise you that from now on, if you know where to look, you will see heaven open and the angels of God descend and ascend on us.”

Which is equivalent to saying: “my presence will put you in direct contact with heaven.”

Do you remember the story of our father Jacob? Fleeing from threats made by his brother, he found himself lost in a strange land, burdened by his anxiety, far from everything he loved. But God was there, with him, in the midst of his solitude, because he never leaves us. I assure you that here today, next to this fig tree, if your eyes of faith were to open, you could also see heaven open, and a direct path that takes us to the throne of the universe. If you open wide the eyes of your soul “you will see that the heavens are open and never close.”16Any place where God is sought is a Bethel, “house of God and gate of heaven.”17

Nathanael, like Jacob in his flight, also believes to awaken from the torpor of a dream to a new reality in which the divine, what seems to be most inaccessible, is found, thanks to the Teacher, within reach of a heartbeat. Within him resonates the echo of the words of the fugitive patriarch:

“Surely the Lord is in this place, and I did not know it.” 18

And he tells himself, without saying it, what many others who have been discovered by him have said to themselves:

“Christ saw me under the fig tree. He knows far more about me than I do, far more than I could learn from psychoanalysis.19

And it is that the Teacher has the rare capacity to see beyond appearances, to detect the presence of the divine in the human and the celestial in the quotidian. With Him, you learn to see the old things through new eyes, and to stop seeing the new things with the same old eyes. His strange capacity for love permits Him to discern radiant butterflies in the most ugly caterpillars and admirable saints in unworthy sinners. Because to really love “is to see the beauty that exists in the heart of the other person.”20

There are Teachers who teach by guiding their students like horses: step by step. The majority of us need to be guided like that, respecting our pace. There are others who teach by promoting the good that they find in the disciple, encouraging him to advance and grow, because we all learn better when we are encouraged. The new Teacher educates in both ways: keeping in step with everyone, and motivating each one, stimulating any progress with honesty.

The Teacher is further able to understand the dreams of His potential disciples. That is why He can dream of them as they are not yet and imagine the reality they can turn into. He knows that a human being grows when aware of being dreamt about.21

Therefore, these young men, like so many others who will follow, by sharing among themselves the new perspectives that their encounter with Jesus adds to their lives, gradually spread their invitation to follow Him and, little by little, cause the small group of disciples to grow. With such enthusiastic spokespersons, the work of the unusual Teacher increasingly spreads, accepting men and women where they are, just as they are, and step by step transforming them into new beings, full of incredible possibilities.

Like Nathanael, we each have our own discernments, some of them false. It is difficult for us to understand that God may propose different paths than those we know. For that reason, The Teacher baffles with the apparent simplicity of His approach.

We all tend to admire the extraordinary, the great accomplishments of humanity, the great figures from history.22At the same time, as it is clear that we cannot all be first in everything, and very few can bring to fruition their delusions of grandeur, the vast majority condemn ourselves to fitting into the category of the “masses.” This reality appears to have triggered defense mechanisms in an infinite number of human beings, which keep them in what the classicists called aurea mediocritas23 and that could be translated as “Apology of the acceptable.”

Across all societies economic hardships, ignorance, life’s injustices, the challenge of studying certain careers or finding interesting work undermines the natural optimism of childhood and the idealism of adolescence. As youth gradually passes and adulthood becomes complicated, circumstances lead the discouraged to avoidance, resignation or inhibition, often producing lives that are routine, conformist, disillusioned—doomed to failure.