I Want to See Jesus

 

A reflection on longing for God, inspired by a little voice

I was watching The Chosen — Season 3, Episode 3 — the one where Jesus returns to His hometown of Nazareth. It’s the episode where He reads from the scroll of Isaiah and reveals Himself as the long-awaited Messiah. But before that sacred moment, there was a festive, almost ordinary scene — Jesus walking through the streets of Nazareth, greeting neighbors, exchanging familiar smiles, the gentle footsteps of God in His own hometown.

Right then, as Jesus moved among His people, little Xian, my 6-year-old son, looked up at me with wide eyes and asked:

“Mama, what country is that? Where is that? I want to see Jesus. Is He also in the Philippines? I want to see Him. I want to see what He really looks like.”

I smiled and told him softly, “Jesus is in Heaven. He is ever-present around us, even if you cannot see Him. But if you’re good and ask Him, maybe He can reveal Himself to you.”

He paused for a moment, then asked again:  “Is there Heaven in the Philippines?”

That question — so simple, so sincere — pierced something deep. 

Not long after, Jesus, in the episode, entered the synagogue, and upon invitation, they handed Him a scroll from which He chose to read this passage:

“The Spirit of the Lord is on me,

because he has anointed me

to proclaim good news to the poor.

He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners

and recovery of sight for the blind,

to set the oppressed free,

to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” 

(Luke 4:18–19)

And if we read this in the bible, He said the words that shook the synagogue — and all of history:

“Today this Scripture is fulfilled in your hearing.”

What divine timing!

Xian’s innocent question came just before Jesus revealed Himself — as if the Lord was answering in real time, “Yes, I am here. And I still reveal Myself to those who seek Me like a child.”

It reminded me that Jesus is still near.
He reveals Himself to us daily in the Mass, in prayer, in the Eucharist, in the stillness of adoration.
But are our eyes open?
Or have we become so used to the noise that we miss His whisper?

These days, people will pay thousands just to see their favorite artists.
They’ll scream for their idols, chase after celebrities, binge-watch shows, follow content creators for hours, and spend sleepless nights on games.
We get excited about a thousand things...but who still gets excited about Jesus?

No wonder our Lord said: “Unless you become like little children…”
Children don’t complicate love.
Their hearts are uncluttered.
Their longing is pure.
They know Who really matters.

It reminds me of Season 1, Episode 3 of The Chosen. When Jesus spoke those same words from Isaiah to the children, they simply listened and cherished Him. 

No resistance. No pride. Just wonder and joy. 

How different from the crowd in His hometown, who met His words with rejection and anger. 

And maybe that’s why children find it easier to believe.  They receive God’s revelation with open hands, while many adults resist His will when it challenges their comfort or pride.

That moment with Xian reminded me of the saints who yearned so much for Heaven that even death lost its sting.
They longed for the face of God, not out of fear, but out of love.
That’s why some even levitated in prayer, overwhelmed by joy.
That’s why they clung to the Eucharist, because it was Jesus, right there, hidden in plain sight.

However, many of us are looking in the wrong direction.
We hunger for things that will never satisfy — attention, approval, achievement, temporary happiness.
We forget that all of these are fleeting.
What we should really be desiring are things that truly advance us toward Heaven — that which is eternal.

Maybe if we longed for Jesus like children do…
Maybe if we believed that Heaven could meet us here…
Maybe then fear would fade.
Depression would lift.
And joy, the real kind, would come rushing in.

Because the One we’re searching for is not far.
He is closer than the air we breathe, nearer than the beat of our heart.

Yes, Xian… there is Heaven in the Philippines — wherever hearts burn to see His face.
Only love. Only life. Only Him.

-brevcHacHi-