Decisive Encounters. Roberto Badenas

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,