Meeting Jesus

Imagine this: You believe there’s some sort of God—a God who intelligently designed you and the world you live in. But other than what you see in nature, you know nothing more. Well, you have some ideas of what God could be like. You live in a country that is approximately 87% Muslim, and about 10% Christian, and those populations certainly seem to think they know. You watched a movie about Jesus once, so you have a vague idea that he was a martyr who sacrificed his life for the good of all people (and it doesn’t necessarily mean anything to you). But that’s it.

So it was with my new friend from Indonesia, Eka (a common Indonesian name meaning “firstborn”). He was done using the Wi-Fi at the Seward Seaman’s Mission and plunking out a mellow tune on the janky (but well-loved) upright piano. I slid in next to him and questioned him about his playing, his language, and his home. There was songbook in front of him with Indonesian Christian songs, so I asked if he knew any. He didn’t. That’s when it came out that he was non-religious—rare for an Indonesian. He acknowledged there was a God. He knew there was brokenness in this world, that he was not perfect. But he didn’t know “why” or how to fix it, and he certainly didn’t have a good idea of who Jesus was.

We started at the beginning; how because of one man sin had entered the world, and by consequence death. Ugly death—separation from our Creator—upon all, as the fair payment for sin. From a human standpoint, this universal sin and death problem doesn't sounds fair to anybody until God’s solution comes in: life for all because of one man’s sacrifice. Eternal life is offered freely as a gift, bought and paid for by the blood of Jesus Christ. Shortly before his final breath, nailed to a cross, Jesus had cried ‘It is finished’—tetelestai, the beautiful Greek phrase used when a debt had been paid. Our sin is exchanged for his righteousness when we let go of our efforts accept Christ’s payment in faith. It’s as simple as if you were drowning in an ocean of sin and reach out to accept the hand of a lifeguard trying to save you.

“Wow, so you just believe in Jesus Christ and you have eternal life,” he scoffed, motioning at the wooden cross on top of the piano. His "impossible" response to God's grace was nothing new.

“What does it mean to believe, Eka, what does ‘percaya’ mean?” (The Indonesian word used in translation of “believe” is “percaya.”)

“Well, to have faith, to trust,” he figured. When we trust someone, we put confidence in them; we believe their promises. But you can’t trust someone you don’t know. And Eka didn’t know who Jesus was yet.

The best way to get to know Jesus Christ is to read about what he did and said. So I grabbed a handy red Gideon Bible off the nearby shelf. It was discovery time.

Eka had a sharp mind. Question after question: How could God be three in one? How could Jesus be man, yet God? Why should someone even trust the scriptures?

We looked at Old Testament passages predicting the Christ, and examined some of Jesus’ radical statements, particularly in the book of John. When we got to the story of Nicodemus and Jesus in John 3, Eka noticed an apparent contradiction. “Why did Nicodemus call Jesus ‘Rabbi, or teacher’ if he was God’s Son?”

“Remember, Eka, the Jews weren’t convinced Jesus was God’s Son, the Christ, the promised One. They knew there needed to be sacrifice for sin, but they didn’t realize Christ was the final sacrifice for sin—the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.”

Eka asked how the Jews were supposed to be convinced, so we flipped over to John 10, where Jesus healed a blind man and then claimed that to be one with God the Father—causing uproar among the Jews. “What are some other miracles Jesus did?” he wanted to know. I flipped over to chapter 11. The account of Lazarus was probably cool.

It was—chilling, in fact. As I was seeking to introduce Eka to Jesus, Eka was helping stretch my ideas of who Jesus is. We read together how Jesus knew that Lazarus was sick, but he told his disciples that there was a greater picture in tragedy “to the glory of God.” Jesus arrived in Bethany four days after Lazarus had died, and was greeted by his sister Martha. In comforting her, Jesus gave words of ultimate hope, “I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live,  and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die. Do you believe this?” Martha said to him, “Yes, Lord; I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God, who is coming into the world.” (vv. 25-27) Then it was Mary’s turn to be comforted. She was crying. And as she grieved, Jesus was “deeply moved.” He wept.

Eka was hooked. I was hooked. Jesus didn’t say “suck it up” or “stop being so small-minded” even though he had the bigger picture in mind. He felt Mary’s pain. This story was a snapshot of the compassionate heart of the Savior.

The Jews were divided. Some took Jesus’ grief as deep love. Others accused him of being unable to stop Lazarus’ death. So Jesus acted—he ordered the stone covering Lazarus’ tomb to be taken away, even though Martha protested. “Jesus said to her, ‘Did I not tell you that if you believed you would see the glory of God?’ …. Jesus lifted up his eyes and said, ‘Father, I thank you that you have heard me. I knew that you always hear me, but I said this on account of the people standing around, that they may believe that you sent me.’ When he had said these things, he cried out with a loud voice, ‘Lazarus, come out.’” (vv. 40-43) Lazarus came out in all his mummified glory. Crazy stuff.

Eka stared for a few seconds and then snapped back from the open Bible. “Okay. So Jesus came to pay for all the sins. When a debt has been paid in life—say I have a debt l cannot repay and my brother who loves me pays it off for me, I can see that and know it was paid.” He waved his hands. “How can I know that this debt is paid when I cannot see it? How can I know Jesus knows ME?”

I saw in his eyes what I can feel every day. In a big, selfish world where it’s easy to feel insignificant and unwanted, it is hard to believe that God truly knows and loves individuals. What a question—how can I know Jesus knows me? Only because of his promises. “As Jesus said in John 3:16, you’re part of ‘the world,’ Eka. ‘For God so loved Eka that He gave His only Son, that if Eka believes in him"—I motioned to the wooden cross—"Eka should not perish but have eternal life.” 

Eka asked a few more questions, but a few things were clear: God had brought him to the mission that day to “meet Jesus” and hear His words. He had heard, but did he believe? Eka went away with a hunger to know more about this Jesus, who promised to be the Way, the Truth, and the Life.

As Jesus asked his disciples in Matthew 16:15: “But who do you say that I am?” That is the question we must all answer.

If He's God, He keeps His promises, and He cares for you deeply...that changes things.