John 1:43-51
This week, I wrote a whole sermon and then deleted it on Saturday afternoon. I wrote a sermon about coming and seeing Jesus—just as Philip invites Nathanael in our gospel story. I wrote a sermon asking us: Can anything good come out of the pandemic? to mirror Nathanael’s question: Can anything good come out of Nazareth? Yes and yes. But upon further reflection, I don’t think that’s the question this gospel story from John invites us to consider.
Because we two thousand years later get to read the gospel of John in its entirety, we know it opens with these majestic words: In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. And the word became flesh and lived among us, full of grace and truth. Right from the start, we know that Jesus is the Word of God incarnate. But the people whom Jesus gathers to follow him circa 30 of the common era, they do not have the benefit of a Bible to read. Seemingly out of the blue, Jesus travels to Galilee and recruits Philip to follow him. Then, Philip finds Nathanael and reports that he has found the one about whom Moses and the prophets wrote, Jesus son of Joseph from Nazareth. Why Philip declares Jesus the fulfillment of the law and prophets is really not clear as Jesus has done nothing this early in the gospel to warrant such praise. Wary of Jesus’ sketchy hometown, since that’s all Nathanael knows of Jesus, Nathanael asks: Can anything good come out of Nazareth? It is then that Philip says: Come and see, and Nathanael does come and see. Nathanael meets the man Jesus and after just a quick exchange declares Jesus the Son of God.
Who is this One Philip invites Nathanael to come and see? The further we read through the story, the more titles pile on: “him about whom Moses in the law and also the prophets wrote,” Jesus son of Joseph from Nazareth, Rabbi, Son of God, King of Israel, Son of Man. Titles of honor and glory, privilege and prestige, with the one exception of son of Joseph from Nazareth. We gospel-readers two thousand years later know that these aren’t the only titles Jesus can claim. Jesus is the Word of God incarnate, the light of the world, God in the flesh. Jesus is God, according to the gospel of John, and throughout the gospel, Jesus speaks with an authority that can only be God’s own authority. Despite the majestic portrait John paints of Jesus, the portrait is complex because Jesus is not simply God but a man, the son of Joseph. More than any of the other three gospels, the gospel of John lifts up the crucifixion of Jesus as the moment of deepest significance. A deeply human moment of suffering and pain. A moment when God enters fully into the suffering of all humanity. This is the One Philip invites Nathanael to see...even if he himself doesn’t yet understand what it means.
The question of the day is: How are you feeling about the pandemic as we end month number 10? To see the community’s reflections, go to the Facebook live stream of worship on Sunday, January 17. In month ten of this pandemic and its accompanying recession, coupled with political tension and an intensified call for racial justice, we are tired. Parents are tired of trying to balance child care and work. Students are tired of screens. Folks on the street are tired of no place to be. Many are tired of isolation. We are tired of being scared and taking precautions. In these frightening and exhausting and continually unprecedented days, we may wonder when God is going to show up. We may lift up our voices with the people of old crying out: How long, oh Lord? We may feel abandoned by God. On the other hand, we may be focusing on the bright spots: vaccine roll out, economic stimulus checks in the mail, dramatically lower carbon emissions this year, the care of family and friends when we are struggling, random acts of kindness from strangers. Whether we feel stuck, isolated, and afraid OR hopeful, energized, and empowered to make positive change, we probably all would like to see Jesus revealed as a glorious savior, a divine superhero, a mighty king who boldly ends the transmission of Covid-19, puts our economy to rights, unites the whole people of this country for the sake of the common good, and establishes justice. Yet I am struck this morning by John’s portrait of Jesus, a God-man who comes not to triumph but to suffer.
Jesus comes not to triumph but to suffer—because of God’s desire to so deeply enter into the human experience with us. Yes, of course, Jesus ultimately triumphs, but according to the gospel of John, first and foremost, Jesus, the God-man, comes to be with us whatever life is like for us. Jesus is here in these difficult days even when they do not contain a shred of hope. Jesus is here in celebratory days when we are filled with hope. God comes to be with us, however we are, whatever is going on, not to change our lives through miraculous works necessarily but simply to be with us. This may not feel like enough, a God incarnate, a God who comes simply to be with us, but in our most difficult moments, we know that the only thing that makes anything better is this: to know we are not alone. And indeed, we are not. Come and see Jesus.
Come, get up, lift up your heads, see. Throw off the lethargy of these days. Rub the dreariness from your eyes. Look around you and pay attention. We are not alone in this world. When you forget or when you struggle to trust God’s presence with us, come here to Grace. I’m not kidding. Show up here and see that God is with us, that God has not abandoned us, that God is walking this difficult road with us. Day after day, I am grateful that I get to be here, to see the ways God works among us, to hear your stories of hope and also sadness. Somehow, in a way I do not entirely understand, God makes God’s presence known here. Come and see. Jesus is here. Thanks be to God! Amen.