A/N: I can't believe that I'm posting Bible fanfiction, of all things. To all of you faithful people who have me on alert and got a email about this little thing, yes, I have lost my mind. To all of you who just clicked on this fic because you were interested, I apologize in advance. I wrote this as a religion assignment. I'm Wicca, in a Catholic school, and I have no idea what I'm doing. I have a distinct sinking feeling that I've gotten all my facts wrong. -Shrugs- The assignment was to write a story in which you meet Jesus. I think our teacher is expecting a whole dream-sequence thing in which Jesus reveals some great truth, but, well, I just couldn't do that. So I came up with this!

A/N2: I have no idea if this is actually supposed to be in the 'Bible' section, but it takes place while Jesus is alive, so I guess it could go into the New Testament.

A/N3: The title means 'Now You See'. I hope. Forgive me if I translated it into Latin wrong.

Disclaimer: Do you even need one of these things for Bible fanfiction?


It is the year 28 C.E. The life I live is a simple one. I feed my animals, tend my garden, and tidy my modest cottage. Although I have no spouse, my life is not devoid of love. My friends and family hold me, even with all my idiosyncrasies, dear to their hearts, and I find a sense of companionship in the close community in which I live. An outsider may find that a Wicca amongst a collection of Jews is an odd thing to behold, but we find the variety refreshing. It does lead to some interesting conversations though. Some very interesting conversations.

I am sitting in the shade of a large birch, enjoying the tranquility of my surroundings. I can feel the green energy of the Earth seeping into my bones. Suddenly, I feel a presence disturb my bubble of solitude. This is not particularly unusual, as many people from the nearby village come to me for folk remedies. I rise to greet the intruder, and am surprised at who I see.

The man is tall, with kind eyes, a small beard, and tanned skin. He is dressed simply in a cotton robe and comfortable sandals. Near the gate to my property I spot a congregation of about a dozen men. The man in front of me smiles, and introduces himself as Jesus. The name sparks something in my memory.

I have heard all about him from my close friends in the village. They had come rushing into my garden, proclaiming him as the Savior, the Messiah. Although the idea that the man before me was a divine creature, the Son of God, went against my fundamental beliefs, I could not doubt that the faith that he inspired in the villagers was astonishing. I could also not doubt that his teachings made the villagers better people. I myself had even found kinship in the words that were passed on to us by word-of-mouth.

And now as I gaze upon the man before me, I can sense a deep faith tingling just below his calm exterior. I can immediately understand why he is so exalted by the village people. I find myself short of breath, the mere sight of this man inspiring awe within me. There is not a doubt in my mind that this man has a strong love and unadulterated belief in his God. The sensation of such piousness is sheer and overwhelming, knocking my breath away. This faith, this belief, this love; this is the purest form of magic. Although I have yet to speak with him, although I am of another faith entirely, although I have been in his presence all of 30 seconds, and although there is not a doubt in my mind that this man is human, not God; Jesus of Nazareth has captured my interest and reverence just as surely as he has the Jewish masses.

"I believe I may have heard of you. You caused quite a stir among the villagers when they caught wind that you were coming this way."

He smiles wryly at my words, and responds,

"It is a great thing to see such faith in so many people."

I smile back, and then ask if he would like a refreshment, or if his companions would.

"No thank you. I would like to talk with you, though. Could we go for a stroll, perhaps? My men will be fine."

"There is a small pond beyond this grove of trees, if you would like."

"That will be lovely."

There is no path, save for the barely-there trail I use regularly to reach the pond. Sunlight shines down on us through gaps in the overhead canopy, and despite my overwhelming curiosity about my quiet companion, I find myself closing my eyes and listening to the sounds of nature, letting my feet guide me along instinctively. Before I know it, we are seated on some pond-side boulders, looking across at each other. There is silence as we each observe our surroundings, but it is far from uncomfortable. Still, I have the distinct feeling that he is sizing me up. It is only fitting, as I am extending the same courtesy to him. Finally, he speaks.

"The residents of the village speak highly of you."

"Oh?"

"Yes. They explained your Wiccan beliefs to me, and I found myself ill-advised to not seize the chance to speak with you. I must say, I do not fully understand what your faith entails. Would you explain it to me?"

"Certainly."

I proceed to describe my dual-theistic religion, taking care to describe the worship and reverence of nature, and exactly what that entails. I can tell he is mildly unsettled by the fact that I only have one "commandment", as it were, to run my life.

"I know it seems odd, goodness knows that the village priest was quite disturbed by the fact, but you have to remember that Wicca is a very loose religion. The simple commandment, 'Do as you will; Hurt none.' is the only commandment we can have without regimenting the religion to the point that it must be followed the exact same way, everywhere, by all Wicca."

Almost immediately, what I just said registers in my head, and I flush. However, Jesus cuts off my apologies before I can even open my mouth.

"Do not worry, I understand what you meant. It makes quite a lot of sense, your beliefs."

I study him carefully, a question blossoming in my mind. He smiles understandingly back at me, and I ask my question.

"How do you unwaveringly have faith in your God? There are many religions that have logic in them. Even with Wicca, the connections between the Divine and the Earthly are clear as day. But…"

"…the connections my faith has are about as clear as mud." He finishes with a smile.

I flush again. He stands up and his eyes twinkle down at me.

"Faith is just that; Faith. It is blind. It is reckless. It is the only thing that holds this universe together."

I stare at him uncomprehendingly.

"When you cast a spell, you take a leap of faith that that it will carry on and do the work you charge of it."

"That's not the same. Magic is a very real thing. It's part of this Earth. You can feel it."

"So if a Jew, who did not believe in the slightest that a spell would work, cast one anyway, would it work?"

"Of course not."

He smiles at me again, and the words I have just uttered hit me. Oh. I grasp at the pentagram hanging around my neck. As I turn it over in my hands, it glints in the sunlight. This little pendant is a symbol of power and protection to me, but to anyone else, it is simply a star. I glance up at Jesus once again.

He is gone.


A/N: Review please?