My brother is usually the focus of the story when it is told, Philip the Evangelist, and I am often left feeling like a simpleton. "A man without a false bone in his body", that is how Jesus described me; that much is true, I am straightforward, but I am not simple.
I had always cherished my relationship with God, and although I enjoyed the synagogue prayers, and entered into the debates about Scripture, the times I enjoyed the most were the times when I could get away on my own. I would meditate and pray; speaking to God in the silence and it was through the silence that he spoke to me.
My favourite place to pray was in the shade of my fig tree, I had raised it myself, and it stood in the corner of my small plot of land, I was proud of my tree, it was young, and its fruits though still few were sweet, my wife used to joke that I watered it with prayer.
Philip knew where to find me of course, my extrovert ebullient brother; we were opposites in character, but remained great friends. Recently he had been fascinated by Jesus from Nazareth, stories about Jesus had been spreading throughout the region, and he dared to teach in the open air, challenging the wisdom of the Pharisees. There were other stories too, stories about healing; Philip was enthralled, but I was sceptical, after all I reasoned to myself, how could anything good come from Nazareth?
The latest story concerned John the Baptist, the fiery desert preacher, Philip said he had tried to refuse to baptise this Jesus, proclaiming him to be the Messiah. When Jesus insisted on baptism John agreed, but no sooner had Jesus emerged from the waters the skies were split by the voice of God proclaiming for all to hear; "This is my Son, chosen and marked by my love, delight of my life." and as God spoke the Spirit descended upon Jesus in the form of a dove bathed in heavenly light.
I listened to Philips excitable account of these events and deep in my soul curiosity had ignited a flame of hope that try as I might I could not ignore.
I took myself into the garden to pray, I needed to get alone with God, to seek answers, So it was that Philip found me sting beneath my fig tree, my conversation with God that day had been challenging beyond words; when Philip came I knew I had to go with him.
When I saw Jesus my heart did somersaults and the flicker of hope in my soul burst into a roaring fire, I knew him as soon as he looked at me! The conversation that followed was bizarre, and I caught the twinkle in his eye as he teased me;
The laughter barely concealed in his voice he exclaimed; "There's a real Israelite, not a false bone in his body."
"Where did you get that idea? You don't know me." I replied, still testing him.
"One day, long before Philip called you here, I saw you under the fig tree." he answered
Then I knew, I could barely stop myself from dancing with joy; "Rabbi! You are the Son of God, the King of Israel!"
Then I recognised the power and majesty of this ordinary sounding voice as he proclaimed "You've become a believer simply because I say I saw you one day sitting under the fig tree? You haven't seen anything yet! Before this is over you're going to see heaven open and God's angels descending to the Son of Man and ascending again!
Not only did he know me, but I knew him, we had spoken before many times under the shade of my fig tree. The invitation to follow him was unspoken that day, I had accepted long ago under my fig tree. I had known him when I did not see him, but now I saw him, I had met God, face to face and yet I lived!
I hope that you will understand from my story that I am not a simpleton, I am the quiet one in this crowd, and some things are to deep for words!
