A.D. 30(112)

I could not speak. His teaching from Capernaum haunted me. The eye is the lamp of the body. If your eye is clear, your whole body will be full of light. But if your eye is bad, your whole body will be full of darkness.

“Why do you fear, Maviah?”

He smiled as if addressing a child distracted by her own silliness.

“Why do you hate?”

Hate? Did I hate?

“I…” It was all I could muster.

“Because you see only darkness. You are blind.” He set his foot down into the hull and took a step toward me, shifting his gaze to the raging waves, unconcerned. “So you suffer. And how deep is that suffering. But this is the path you too must follow.”

When he faced me again, the compassion and power in his eyes seemed to swallow me. I could not doubt that I was looking at more than a mere man.

“To the Hebrews it will one day be written of me: ‘During the days of Yeshua’s life on earth, he offered up prayers and petitions with fervent cries and tears… and he was heard because of his reverent submission.’ ”

A hint of sorrow crossed his face.

“Tears and submission, Maviah. Can you too submit your fear of death to the Father? Can you learn to trust? Can you follow the way into the kingdom of heaven where nothing can harm you?”

I must, I thought. I must… but I couldn’t speak.

“They will also write of me: ‘Son though he was, he learned obedience from what he suffered.’ It will be written that I too learned to obey because it is true. What then do you think is my advantage over you? If my path is with learning and tears and submission, can you not follow that same path? You too can learn. You too can see past your troubles. They are like the waves you believe threaten this boat. You too can find freedom from the storm. You too can walk on troubled waters. Only then you will see that my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

In those words I found my first measure of comfort, because it meant he was like me. If he did it, could not I?

“Follow me, Daughter. Follow me on the narrow path so few ever find. Follow me because I am the way.”

I suddenly wanted only this. I wanted to follow this teacher, this mystic, this son of the Father, this man who was surely more than a mere man, though he suffered as did I. Nothing else seemed to matter, for I understood that he too had followed the path of surrender and found great power. I could see this in his eyes, brimming with adventurous challenge and unquestioned acceptance rather than fear of the storm.

I wanted to run to him and throw my arms around him and cling to him, vowing all of my life. I wanted to trust him to find his yoke easy and his burden light as I surrendered my very breath. I wanted to rest in the arms of the Father, who loved without condition and did not judge me, as Yeshua taught. My hands trembled with that sentiment; tears streamed down my cheeks.

The storm was still raging about us but he could as easily step from the boat and walk on water as command these seas, I thought.

Could I as well?

“How?” I asked. Then with more clarity, finding my voice over the wind. “How do I surrender?”

He smiled and tilted his head slightly, as if daring me to hear him. He faced the storm and spoke in a soft voice, as much to himself as to me, I thought.

“Forgive,” he said.

Just that one word, but it promised to unlock the secrets of the stars.

“Master…” I didn’t know what to say. How could I forgive?

“Let go of your right to take offense at all that ever threatened you and all that threatens you still. Release the fear your understanding shows you in this storm. Turn even the other cheek.”

Though I could not understand their full meaning, his words pulled deeply at my heart. To be able to see no offense so as to turn my cheek to all that threatened… this was forgiveness? What power he had! Could I then have this power?

“How?” I asked, voice thin in that dream.

He turned his head, eyes bright and fearless and daring.

“By trusting me instead. Put your faith in me, not the storm, nor the boat. I and the Father are one. Surrender to the Father even your need for life. You cannot truly forgive until you surrender your belief in this storm and trust in me instead.”

Clarity came to me like the clearing of dark clouds. In him! Not by believing the truth about him, but by surrendering to him and trusting in him, I would have no need to protect myself from this or any storm. Would it then matter what happened to me, if my life was submitted to him? My fingers trembled with the power of what he was suggesting.

A faint, knowing grin twisted his lips. “Seventy times seven,” he said. “Forgive the world of offense seventy times seven.”