A.D. 30(106)

“See how?”

“With the heart,” he said. “The eyes are truly the heart and mind. As I hear the master, life is about what happens inside a man. To even think angry thoughts is no less than murder, he says. The world then is filled with murderers. And why does man get angry? Because he feels threatened or wronged. And why does he feel threatened? Because he does not believe he is safe. Why? Because he is afraid of God and so cannot trust him.”

I followed his logic but had no concept of how to trust any god.

“This is the work of God, the master says: to trust in the one God has sent. To trust Yeshua and his way, Maviah. To trust that you too may calm this storm!”

“To say I believe this tree is a tree—”

“This is not belief as Yeshua means it!” he interrupted, terribly excited. “He means to trust what these human eyes cannot see. Belief of Yeshua is not belief in Yeshua.”

I glanced in Sarah’s direction but could not see her expression.

“Perhaps it is better to understand faith by your fears,” he said. “Why did we fear the storm?”

“Because it threatened us,” I said.

“There are those who say the storm does not exist. That it is evil. That this secret knowledge will save you. This is the gnostic way, Nicodemus tells me. But they are wrong. The storm is real, but it did not threaten us. Did you not hear Yeshua ask why the others were afraid?”

“They were afraid because the storm was about to crush them,” I said. “We were all afraid.”

Stephen lifted his finger, blurry in my sight. “Exactly! But only because we did not trust the Father to keep us safe as he sees fit. Our trust was in the boat instead! We put our trust in wood and pitch and flesh and blood and wind and water, and so the storm has dominion over us. Don’t you see? We must let this world go and see no threat. This is what it means to believe in Yeshua!”

“The danger is real, not imagined! What you suggest is madness!”

“Madness!” he cried, delighted. “Of course the storm is real. In the eyes of children who trust their Father, there is no threat. No grievance against the storm. With faith, Maviah, you can see that nothing threatens you. Then you will fear no storm—you will master it. Only when you trust the Father can you let go of your fear and all grievance. This is why Yeshua told those in the boat that they had no faith, surely.”

The teaching seemed too much now, for I was drowning already.

Stephen continued. “When the religious man argues with great passion, desperate to be right, does he not secretly harbor a grievance against the one who threatens his knowledge? This too is fear, but Yeshua does not argue in this way. There is no threat in the storm of words—his Father keeps him safe! This is his way.”

“You speak as though letting go of grievance is nothing more than letting a stone fall from the hand.”

“Ah… but this is the meaning of forgiveness, is it not? To let go. To forgive the world.” He swept his hand through the air. “All of it! To let go of all blame.”

The first hints of a greater meaning registered in my mind.

“And do you forgive?” I asked.

He stilled for a moment, caught off guard. Then he settled back down and sighed.

“Me? I am only a common man who thinks about these things. I cannot say that I believe any more than the others or I too would calm the storm. But I believe I am learning.” Stephen leaned forward. “Do you know he has promised that all who follow him will do as he does and greater?”

“And do they?”

“Not yet.” He sat back. “Perhaps because no one truly trusts. Many are called but few are chosen, he says. Narrow is the gate. Yet there are those who want to trust in him fully. Peter, James, John, Sons of Thunder. The others as well. And some close to me in Bethany—Philip, Lazarus, and his sisters Mary and Martha. We all seek to know this way. As must you. And you, Sarah.”

I could not doubt his sincerity, but how was it possible to hold no grievance and find no threat in the world? Such a person would indeed rule the heart with great power.

I blinked. The kingdom of heaven, within.

“When you listen to Yeshua, listen for what he tells you not to put your faith in,” Stephen said, cutting my thoughts short. “Will a husband give you security? No! Will food save you from suffering? No! Will wealth save you from death? No! Nothing on earth will offer you salvation from the storms of this age or the next. Rather give what you have to the poor, for to give is to receive in his kingdom.”

“My kingdom is not of this earth,” I said quietly.

“Yes! Yes! Yet among and within us now! Where did you hear this?”