Come and See Ps. 189:1-12,23, 34 John 1:43-51
Jesus is just getting started, right?
He’s learned a trade, kept his nose clean.
He’s a little odd, but clearly a bright, well-spoken, intelligent young man.
Sure, he’s from Nazareth, so he’s had a better shot at being a big fish in a little pond
than if he were from Jerusalem, say.
But being from Nazareth carries it’s liabilities as well.
It’s like being from Schuyler, maybe, or Wingina - not IMPOSSIBLE to succeed,
but not as LIKELY.
So Jesus has decided he’s got a greater destiny than building kitchen cabinets
and he’s left home.
He’s identified by those who meet him as "Rabbi,"
though nowhere in the gospels do we get a look at his Jewish School diploma.
As John tells the story, Jesus is baptized by his cousin, John the Baptizer,
who then gets Jesus started in the Rabbi business
by giving him two disciples on permanent loan.
John gives Jesus Simon Peter and his brother Andrew,
both from the fishing village of Bethsaida.
When Peter and Andrew ask Jesus where he’s staying,
Jesus replies, "Come and see."
"Come and see." Pay attention, you’ll hear that again.
This is where our passage today picks up the account.
The next day, we’re told, Jesus decides to go to Galilee.
There he finds Philip, who’s identified as being from Peter and Andrew’s neighborhood
It seems clear to me that John emphasizes the connection;
that he wants us to know Jesus went to Galilee specifically to find Philip
on Peter and Andrew’s recommendation.
That’s the way it seems to work in John’s story.
He wants us to know that Jesus is part of a network of relationships,
the center hub in a wheel of connections.
John the Baptizer refers Peter and Andrew to Jesus,
Peter and Andrew refer Jesus to Philip,
and, as we see, Philip goes out and gets Nathaniel.
Matthew, and Mark, and Luke tell it differently.
They tell the story of Jesus’ calling his disciples
with an emphasis on the individual responses.
Jesus sees, he calls, and "Bam!" they drop everything to follow.
But John want’s us to see the web, the network,
how everything’s so interconnected.
In John, the choice to follow Jesus comes not so much as a bolt from the blue,
but as a natural consequence of knowing and being known.
In John, being a disciple requires not so much an abrupt tearing of the social fabric,
as it requires a re-weaving of the fabric to bring in new colors and textures.
This is important, this story of how one becomes a disciple of Jesus.
It’s important because if you’re new to the whole idea of Christianity
you need to know that it’s not enough just to engage Christianity
as an interesting philosophy or as an intellectual curiosity.
It’s not enough to just keep it at arms length -
to stand back and admire it from a distance as one might look at a piece of art.
I don’t mean you won’t be welcome here if that’s what you want to do,
I simply mean that you will gain little from the exercise
unless you’re willing to put your headgear on and your mouth guard in
and get down on the mat and wrestle.
For worship to be anything more than just a mildly pleasant Sunday morning exercise
or for the community of faith to be anything more than friendly acquaintances,
you have to grapple, go tooth and nail with what it might mean if YOU were to become
an authentically engaged, sincere, if awkward, disciple of Jesus Christ.
That includes figuring out what gifts you bring to the task.
It also includes exploring how you might need to change.
For those of you who have already gotten on the mat,
and maybe even been pinned a few times,
the question of how one becomes a disciple of Jesus is also important.
It’s important because there is a loud and flashy strain of theology in our culture,
especially here in our beloved South,
that would have me believe that becoming a disciple IS an individual experience,
that it’s ONLY about what’s going on in MY heart and MY head,
whether I have what it takes to make a decision to follow
and what kind of dramatic victory I’M going to win.
This strain of theology would have me think that coming to faith
IS done in isolation, just between me and Jesus.
This kind of thinking is so pervasive in our Southern culture,
so strongly worded, so adamantly proclaimed by every TV evangelist
and Christian bookstore that it’s easy for those of us who have come by
another way to feel inferior and to question the reality of our discipleship.
But John wants us to know that while there is biblical support for this Me and Jesus
point of view, there is also ample evidence that Jesus also honors
a different kind of discipleship as well.
Take, for example, this story of Jesus’ encounter with Nathaniel
and of Nathaniel’s decision to follow Jesus.
You remember the story so far.
John the Baptizer referred two of his disciples to Jesus, Simon, renamed Peter,
and his brother Andrew, both from the Northeastern Galilean village of Bethsaida.
Implied in the story is the assumption that Peter and Andrew told Jesus about Philip,
because next thing we know Jesus goes straight to Galilee and finds Philip.
We’re not told why exactly, but Philip is impressed by Jesus,
impressed enough to go then to Nathaniel with an invitation.
"We have found him about whom Moses in the law and also the prophets wrote,
Jesus, son of Joseph, from Nazareth."
Now, here’s where it gets interesting.
Jesus has already seen Nathaniel sitting under a fig tree,
so it’s not unlikely to think that Philip encounters Nathaniel at a spot
that’s within earshot of Jesus - maybe a village market or a courtyard.
I picture Nathaniel as a natural skeptic, somebody who likes to do some verbal sparring.
He sees Philip’s enthusiasm and hears the word "Nazareth,"
and I imagine him raising his voice just enough for Jesus to hear,
"CAN ANYTHING GOOD COME OUT OF NAZARETH?"
Notice that Philip doesn’t chastise him for his irreverence.
He doesn’t try to argue Jesus’ credentials or browbeat Nathaniel into acquiescence.
He simply shrugs and echos what Jesus said earlier to Peter and Andrew. "Come and see," he says. That’s all. "Come and see."
OK, so in my picture Nathaniel has just good-naturedly insulted Jesus’ home town.
Instead of taking offense, though, Jesus rises to the challenge
and with tongue firmly in cheek greets Nathaniel with dripping flattery,
"Ah, here is truly an Israelite in whom there is no deceit."
Then Nathaniel gets into the rhythm of the good natured banter
and says, "How do you know so much about me?"
and Jesus responds, "I saw you under the fig tree earlier."
Now, here’s where the inflection and tone you use when reading this story
makes all the difference.
If you read Nathaniel’s response in sonorous, meaningful tones
it becomes a profound statement of faith.
"Rabbi, you are the Son of God! You are the King of Israel!"
I’m not saying that’s impossible.
I’m not saying that’s NOT the way it happened.
But consider what it means to read his response in this serious kind of way.
If all Jesus said to Nathaniel was, "I saw you earlier under the fig tree"
and based on that Nathaniel comes out with some profound statement of faith,
then the story becomes all about Nathaniel and Jesus.
The story becomes all about NATHANIEL’S insight, NATHANIEL’S faith,
and all about JESUS’ divinity, the halo that sets him apart from other men.
It becomes another one of those ME and JESUS encounters that some people have,
but not everyone.
Remember what I said earlier about John’s style?
That his understanding of discipleship
is more prone to focus on the network, on connections?
Remember that he’s more likely to see discipleship
not so much as a one-time ME and JESUS kind of supernatural experience,
but as an ongoing intertwining of relationships,
a continuing weaving together of EVERYTHING we bring to the table
all the doubts, the enthusiasms, the comforts and the fears?
So, what if, following John’s lead
instead of reading Nathaniel’s response in solemn tones,
we read it as though it’s a continuation of his bantering with Jesus.
Instead of "RABBI, YOU are the Son of God! YOU are the King of Israel!"
what if Nathaniel instead says it in more playful tones -
"Rabbi! You ARE the Son of God! You ARE the King of Israel."
And Jesus shoots back, "You think that’s something? Boy, you ain’t seen nothin’!
Come with me and you’ll see some really amazing things."
Do you see the difference? It may be too subtle a point I’m trying to shave here,
but I think it’s easy to get caught up in this idea that becoming a disciple means
leaving your personality and your sense of humor and your intellect
back there on the front porch as you slough off all your past relationships
and step out like the Lone Ranger to be with Jesus.
That may be the way it happens for some,
but it is just as legitimate for your discipleship to happen over time,
for it to grow maybe even imperceptibly over a period of years:
nurtured by your friendships, challenged by your setbacks,
undergirded by worship and guided by scripture.
We are ordaining new elders today - elders you elected back in September.
One of the things the Session does on your behalf when you elect new elders
is to ask them to tell about their faith journey - their path of discipleship.
Carter Eggleston, our youth elder, told us that he can’t remember NOT being a part
of the Rockfish family of faith.
His growing up to God has been simply a natural part of who he is.
I’m confident that Carter will continue to question his faith, use his intellect,
inject his humor, wrestle with doubts - that also is a natural part of who he is.
Because he is a part of a network of relationships,
because he is connected in this web of people who see wrestling with faith
as the way to grow in faith he will continue to develop.
It’s interesting to note that we never hear of Nathaniel again.
Some make the case that he and Bartholomew mentioned in Acts
are one and the same, but no one knows for sure.
Still, I like to imagine that even though he doesn’t have the name recognition
of Peter or James or John, Nathaniel made Jesus laugh.
When the other disciples were too quick to acquiesce to Jesus’ commands
I like to imagine that it was Nathaniel who stepped up to engage Jesus in debate.
I like to think that he was there to poke a pin in any of the other 11
who got too full of hot air.
And, I like to think that as they walked from town to town he was one of the ones
most eager to introduce others to Jesus; to expand the network.
"Come and see," I hear him say. "Come and see."
7
He’s learned a trade, kept his nose clean.
He’s a little odd, but clearly a bright, well-spoken, intelligent young man.
Sure, he’s from Nazareth, so he’s had a better shot at being a big fish in a little pond
than if he were from Jerusalem, say.
But being from Nazareth carries it’s liabilities as well.
It’s like being from Schuyler, maybe, or Wingina - not IMPOSSIBLE to succeed,
but not as LIKELY.
So Jesus has decided he’s got a greater destiny than building kitchen cabinets
and he’s left home.
He’s identified by those who meet him as "Rabbi,"
though nowhere in the gospels do we get a look at his Jewish School diploma.
As John tells the story, Jesus is baptized by his cousin, John the Baptizer,
who then gets Jesus started in the Rabbi business
by giving him two disciples on permanent loan.
John gives Jesus Simon Peter and his brother Andrew,
both from the fishing village of Bethsaida.
When Peter and Andrew ask Jesus where he’s staying,
Jesus replies, "Come and see."
"Come and see." Pay attention, you’ll hear that again.
This is where our passage today picks up the account.
The next day, we’re told, Jesus decides to go to Galilee.
There he finds Philip, who’s identified as being from Peter and Andrew’s neighborhood
It seems clear to me that John emphasizes the connection;
that he wants us to know Jesus went to Galilee specifically to find Philip
on Peter and Andrew’s recommendation.
That’s the way it seems to work in John’s story.
He wants us to know that Jesus is part of a network of relationships,
the center hub in a wheel of connections.
John the Baptizer refers Peter and Andrew to Jesus,
Peter and Andrew refer Jesus to Philip,
and, as we see, Philip goes out and gets Nathaniel.
Matthew, and Mark, and Luke tell it differently.
They tell the story of Jesus’ calling his disciples
with an emphasis on the individual responses.
Jesus sees, he calls, and "Bam!" they drop everything to follow.
But John want’s us to see the web, the network,
how everything’s so interconnected.
In John, the choice to follow Jesus comes not so much as a bolt from the blue,
but as a natural consequence of knowing and being known.
In John, being a disciple requires not so much an abrupt tearing of the social fabric,
as it requires a re-weaving of the fabric to bring in new colors and textures.
This is important, this story of how one becomes a disciple of Jesus.
It’s important because if you’re new to the whole idea of Christianity
you need to know that it’s not enough just to engage Christianity
as an interesting philosophy or as an intellectual curiosity.
It’s not enough to just keep it at arms length -
to stand back and admire it from a distance as one might look at a piece of art.
I don’t mean you won’t be welcome here if that’s what you want to do,
I simply mean that you will gain little from the exercise
unless you’re willing to put your headgear on and your mouth guard in
and get down on the mat and wrestle.
For worship to be anything more than just a mildly pleasant Sunday morning exercise
or for the community of faith to be anything more than friendly acquaintances,
you have to grapple, go tooth and nail with what it might mean if YOU were to become
an authentically engaged, sincere, if awkward, disciple of Jesus Christ.
That includes figuring out what gifts you bring to the task.
It also includes exploring how you might need to change.
For those of you who have already gotten on the mat,
and maybe even been pinned a few times,
the question of how one becomes a disciple of Jesus is also important.
It’s important because there is a loud and flashy strain of theology in our culture,
especially here in our beloved South,
that would have me believe that becoming a disciple IS an individual experience,
that it’s ONLY about what’s going on in MY heart and MY head,
whether I have what it takes to make a decision to follow
and what kind of dramatic victory I’M going to win.
This strain of theology would have me think that coming to faith
IS done in isolation, just between me and Jesus.
This kind of thinking is so pervasive in our Southern culture,
so strongly worded, so adamantly proclaimed by every TV evangelist
and Christian bookstore that it’s easy for those of us who have come by
another way to feel inferior and to question the reality of our discipleship.
But John wants us to know that while there is biblical support for this Me and Jesus
point of view, there is also ample evidence that Jesus also honors
a different kind of discipleship as well.
Take, for example, this story of Jesus’ encounter with Nathaniel
and of Nathaniel’s decision to follow Jesus.
You remember the story so far.
John the Baptizer referred two of his disciples to Jesus, Simon, renamed Peter,
and his brother Andrew, both from the Northeastern Galilean village of Bethsaida.
Implied in the story is the assumption that Peter and Andrew told Jesus about Philip,
because next thing we know Jesus goes straight to Galilee and finds Philip.
We’re not told why exactly, but Philip is impressed by Jesus,
impressed enough to go then to Nathaniel with an invitation.
"We have found him about whom Moses in the law and also the prophets wrote,
Jesus, son of Joseph, from Nazareth."
Now, here’s where it gets interesting.
Jesus has already seen Nathaniel sitting under a fig tree,
so it’s not unlikely to think that Philip encounters Nathaniel at a spot
that’s within earshot of Jesus - maybe a village market or a courtyard.
I picture Nathaniel as a natural skeptic, somebody who likes to do some verbal sparring.
He sees Philip’s enthusiasm and hears the word "Nazareth,"
and I imagine him raising his voice just enough for Jesus to hear,
"CAN ANYTHING GOOD COME OUT OF NAZARETH?"
Notice that Philip doesn’t chastise him for his irreverence.
He doesn’t try to argue Jesus’ credentials or browbeat Nathaniel into acquiescence.
He simply shrugs and echos what Jesus said earlier to Peter and Andrew. "Come and see," he says. That’s all. "Come and see."
OK, so in my picture Nathaniel has just good-naturedly insulted Jesus’ home town.
Instead of taking offense, though, Jesus rises to the challenge
and with tongue firmly in cheek greets Nathaniel with dripping flattery,
"Ah, here is truly an Israelite in whom there is no deceit."
Then Nathaniel gets into the rhythm of the good natured banter
and says, "How do you know so much about me?"
and Jesus responds, "I saw you under the fig tree earlier."
Now, here’s where the inflection and tone you use when reading this story
makes all the difference.
If you read Nathaniel’s response in sonorous, meaningful tones
it becomes a profound statement of faith.
"Rabbi, you are the Son of God! You are the King of Israel!"
I’m not saying that’s impossible.
I’m not saying that’s NOT the way it happened.
But consider what it means to read his response in this serious kind of way.
If all Jesus said to Nathaniel was, "I saw you earlier under the fig tree"
and based on that Nathaniel comes out with some profound statement of faith,
then the story becomes all about Nathaniel and Jesus.
The story becomes all about NATHANIEL’S insight, NATHANIEL’S faith,
and all about JESUS’ divinity, the halo that sets him apart from other men.
It becomes another one of those ME and JESUS encounters that some people have,
but not everyone.
Remember what I said earlier about John’s style?
That his understanding of discipleship
is more prone to focus on the network, on connections?
Remember that he’s more likely to see discipleship
not so much as a one-time ME and JESUS kind of supernatural experience,
but as an ongoing intertwining of relationships,
a continuing weaving together of EVERYTHING we bring to the table
all the doubts, the enthusiasms, the comforts and the fears?
So, what if, following John’s lead
instead of reading Nathaniel’s response in solemn tones,
we read it as though it’s a continuation of his bantering with Jesus.
Instead of "RABBI, YOU are the Son of God! YOU are the King of Israel!"
what if Nathaniel instead says it in more playful tones -
"Rabbi! You ARE the Son of God! You ARE the King of Israel."
And Jesus shoots back, "You think that’s something? Boy, you ain’t seen nothin’!
Come with me and you’ll see some really amazing things."
Do you see the difference? It may be too subtle a point I’m trying to shave here,
but I think it’s easy to get caught up in this idea that becoming a disciple means
leaving your personality and your sense of humor and your intellect
back there on the front porch as you slough off all your past relationships
and step out like the Lone Ranger to be with Jesus.
That may be the way it happens for some,
but it is just as legitimate for your discipleship to happen over time,
for it to grow maybe even imperceptibly over a period of years:
nurtured by your friendships, challenged by your setbacks,
undergirded by worship and guided by scripture.
We are ordaining new elders today - elders you elected back in September.
One of the things the Session does on your behalf when you elect new elders
is to ask them to tell about their faith journey - their path of discipleship.
Carter Eggleston, our youth elder, told us that he can’t remember NOT being a part
of the Rockfish family of faith.
His growing up to God has been simply a natural part of who he is.
I’m confident that Carter will continue to question his faith, use his intellect,
inject his humor, wrestle with doubts - that also is a natural part of who he is.
Because he is a part of a network of relationships,
because he is connected in this web of people who see wrestling with faith
as the way to grow in faith he will continue to develop.
It’s interesting to note that we never hear of Nathaniel again.
Some make the case that he and Bartholomew mentioned in Acts
are one and the same, but no one knows for sure.
Still, I like to imagine that even though he doesn’t have the name recognition
of Peter or James or John, Nathaniel made Jesus laugh.
When the other disciples were too quick to acquiesce to Jesus’ commands
I like to imagine that it was Nathaniel who stepped up to engage Jesus in debate.
I like to think that he was there to poke a pin in any of the other 11
who got too full of hot air.
And, I like to think that as they walked from town to town he was one of the ones
most eager to introduce others to Jesus; to expand the network.
"Come and see," I hear him say. "Come and see."
7
posted by David Cameron | 2:50 AM
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