Can anything good come from Nazareth? This Sunday, Nathanael learns a lesson about God working in unexpected people and places. This week’s sermon digs into each of the three lines of Nathanael’s conversation with Jesus.
Today’s Scripture readings are Psalm 139:1-6, 13-18, and John 1:43-51. Substantial portions of this sermon come from my Nathanael sermon on the same text from January 14, 2018, although that one was perhaps slightly more political. For that sermon, Thomas B. Slater’s commentary on Working Preacher was helpful, as was Jan Rippentrop’s.
Here’s the sermon podcast audio and livestream from Christ the King.
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Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen
Did you know there are 3,237 people named in the Bible? That’s according to some source I found online—I did not count them. Some of those are very well known, like the main characters we’ve talked about for the last few weeks in the Christmas story, people like Mary and Joseph, Elizabeth and Zechariah (Did you know the Bible has at least 20 different people named Zechariah?).
Then there are some more obscure characters, like Anna and Simeon—we talked about them two weeks ago.
In today’s reading, John introduces us to a new character, Nathanael. He’s not one of the starring characters in the Bible, but he does get a whole story about him, so he’s maybe top 1,000 or so on the Bible character list.
After this story, John will mention him just one more time, in chapter 21, after Jesus is raised from the dead. He’s also mentioned by Matthew, Mark, and Luke, but they call him by a different name, Bartholomew, and he’s only ever mentioned as part of a list of the 12 disciples.
This story is Nathanael’s big moment, his only starring role. Apparently, this is the only time he said something interesting enough for one of the Gospel writers to record it. In today’s reading, he gets a whopping three lines of dialogue, but there’s something we can learn from each one.
So to set the scene, remember last week we heard the story of John the Baptist baptizing Jesus. The heavens opened up and God’s voice declared, “This is my son, the beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”
After his baptism, Matthew, Mark, and Luke all tell us Jesus spent some time in the wilderness, where he was tempted. Satan challenged the promise God had declared over Jesus at his baptism, tempting him to abandon his mission, give up on what he’d come to do.
We’ll hear that story in a few weeks as we begin the season of Lent—and yes, Lent begins one month from today.
John, though, in the story he’s telling about Jesus, skips right over the temptation and wilderness stuff, and picks up the story as Jesus is beginning his public ministry. This week and next week, we’ll hear from both John and Mark about Jesus calling disciples, inviting people to follow him and join him in the work he’s doing.
So this new character Nathanael is minding his own business one day when his friend Philip comes up to him and says, “Hey Nathanael, you know how we’ve been waiting for hundreds of years for God to send a savior? Well, I found him! His name is Jesus, and he’s from Nazareth.”
And Nathanael responds with this great line, the first thing we hear him saying: “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?”
The first thing Nathanael says when he hears about the savior of the world, his first response to hearing the good news that God has entered this world in the flesh, is a sarcastic quip about this guy’s hometown. Great character introduction.
Nazareth, you see, is a small, ordinary village of 200-400 people, nowhere of any importance. It’s a backwater blink-and-you’ll-miss-it town not even mentioned in the Old Testament. It’s not the kind of place heroes ought to come from. Heroes grow up in palaces, or descend from Mount Olympus, or maybe come from Rome, the capital of the empire. No one ought to go to Nazareth looking to find God.
At least, that’s Nathanael’s assumption, and I wonder, how often do you and I make similar judgements? How often do we look at where someone came from, or what their race is, or how they talk, and make judgments about what they’re capable of?
There’s a lesson here for us in both how we judge others, and in how we limit where we expect God to be at work. I don’t think it’s an accident that when God chooses to break into our world, it’s in a small town, among poor peasants, rather than in a great empire’s capital.
Jesus is born in Bethlehem, another small village, to unexceptional, unnoticed parents. God often seems to show up in unexpected places, to unexpected people. How often do we miss God’s work because we’re looking in the wrong place?
When Nathanael asks if God can possibly be working in a dump like Nazareth, Philip gives the perfect response. He simply says, “Come and see.”
What a great example Philip is for us as modern followers of Jesus! First, when he meets Jesus and realizes God is doing something, he doesn’t keep the good news to himself. He goes and tells someone, his friend Nathanael.
Then, when his friend’s skeptical of what he’s found, he doesn’t argue with him; he doesn’t lecture him or try to force him to convert; he simply invites him. “Come and see.” There’s no program, nothing elaborate, just a simple invitation. Come and see.
We all know people who don’t go to church, right? And there’s a whole bunch of reasons. Some people are opposed to church, maybe they think it’s a scam, or a waste of time. Some people have been hurt by people in churches before. There are far too many cases where the church has inflicted great pain on people.
But for other people—and I think this is the vast majority—people do have an interest in faith. They might not know exactly what they’re looking for or where to start, but lots of people are curious about church. People are looking for community, looking for meaning, looking for a connection with God, and for lots of our neighbors, all they need is an invitation.
We can’t make someone come to church. We can’t make someone connect with God. But we can do what Philip does. We can invite them to come and see.
We don’t hear Nathanael say anything in response to Philip, but apparently he’s interested enough to follow along, because in the next verse, Jesus sees Nathanael coming towards him. When Jesus sees him, he compliments him on his honesty, on his willingness to speak his skepticism.
And then we get Nathanael’s second line of dialogue. Nathanael asks Jesus, “Where did you get to know me?”
Jesus responds that he saw him under the fig tree, but there’s more to it than that. Jesus didn’t just happen to glance over and see a guy sitting there. Jesus knows Nathanael. He knows his skepticism, his doubt, his sarcasm.
It gets complicated when we think about Jesus being both God and human at the same time, but I think it’s the same kind of knowing that our Psalm today talked about.
The Psalmist writes, “O Lord, you have searched me and known me. You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from far away.” Your Creator knew you before you were born, knitting you together in the womb.
It’s the exact opposite of the kind of knowledge Nathanael thought he had. Where Nathanael thought he knew about someone just because of where they’re from and because of that he could reject them, God actually does know all about us.
The miracle, of course, is that knowing all about us, knowing our doubts and weaknesses, knowing our sins and even knowing the things we don’t want anyone to know about us, God still loves us.
Knowing us completely, God calls us beloved, and invites us to come and see, to come and follow.
As followers of Jesus, we are invited to see people this way too, to see all people the way God sees them, as beloved children of God no matter where they’re from, to see all people as fearfully and wonderfully made.
We are called to stand up for the rights and dignity of all of God’s children. We are called to invite people to challenge their assumptions and the limits they place on God, to come and see what God is doing.
When Nathanael realizes the way Jesus knows him, his entire attitude shifts. In his third line of dialogue, he goes from being a skeptic to confessing Jesus as the Son of God, naming him as the King of Israel.
Nathanael’s shift is so dramatic that Jesus actually seems a little startled. Loosely translated, Jesus’ response is something like, “That’s all you needed to believe? You ain’t seen nothing yet.”
We know, of course, that there will be much more to see. Jesus’ identity will be confirmed again and again, culminating in his rising from the dead on Easter.
But this is enough for Nathanial. He’s ready to follow. He believes. He’s found the Messiah, or rather, the Messiah has found him.
You and I are given the same invitation as Nathanael, and in fact, we’re given much more evidence. We should know by now that God’s work takes place in strange ways, in unexpected people from unexpected places.
We should know our identity comes from God’s claim on us in the waters of baptism, not from our circumstances or birthplaces or accomplishments or anything we do.
And yet, we wrestle with the same things as Nathanael. Can God really be at work in someone from “there” or someone like “that”? Can God really be working in a little church like this? If God truly knows me, can God really still love me and forgive me?
Come and see, for this is the Son of God. This is the King of Israel. Come and see.
Amen
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