“Seeing Greater Things”

January 17, 2021

John 1:43–51

43The next day Jesus decided to go to Galilee. He found Philip and said to him, “Follow me.” 44Now Philip was from Bethsaida, the city of Andrew and Peter. 45Philip found Nathanael and said to him, “We have found him about whom Moses in the law and also the prophets wrote, Jesus son of Joseph from Nazareth.” 46Nathanael said to him, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” Philip said to him, “Come and see.” 47When Jesus saw Nathanael coming toward him, he said of him, “Here is truly an Israelite in whom there is no deceit!” 48Nathanael asked him, “Where did you get to know me?” Jesus answered, “I saw you under the fig tree before Philip called you.” 49Nathanael replied, “Rabbi, you are the Son of God! You are the King of Israel!” 50Jesus answered, “Do you believe because I told you that I saw you under the fig tree? You will see greater things than these.” 51And he said to him, “Very truly, I tell you, you will see heaven opened and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of Man.”

Other readings for this Sunday: 1 Samuel 3:1–10, (11–20); Psalm 139:1–6, 13–18; 1 Corinthians 6:12–20

I grew up the child of an Optometrist. From my earliest times, I recall my dad correcting me when my posture while writing or reading had my eyes too close to the paper. When I was a busy graduate student, I recall him telling me to take regular breaks from the computer screen, to fix my eyes out on some distant spot, to give some eye muscles a break and while exercising others. Seeing and good vision was always a dimension of health he held in focus for me.

Today’s readings for this Sunday in Epiphany are about seeing. In the Old Testament book of 1 Samuel (3:1–10) we meet the priest, Eli, whose physical and spiritual eyesight has grown so dim, he cannot see what’s right in front of him. In Psalm 139 (vv1–6, 13–18) God searches and sees us. In his letter to the troubled Corinthians, (1 Corinthians 6:12–20) Paul urges his readers to see themselves rightly. And in the Gospel, Jesus sees Nathanael — sees into his heart, sees who he is and what he needs — prompting Nathanael, the skeptic, to look past his stereotypes, and see Jesus for who he really is: the Son of God.

Seeing these passages in the context of current times, two lines stand out to me. The first is from I Samuel: “The word of the Lord was rare in those days; visions were not widespread.” And the second is from John chapter 1: “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?”

Maybe I am seeing these particular words now because they echo the anxieties present in these days. Are we living in an age when “the word of the Lord is rare?” As I watch reports of violence and hatred erupt in America, and continue to be threatened in the days ahead, I hold concern that nothing good, redemptive, and just can come from this brokenness.

But of course, that is not true. We believe in a God who never stops speaking to us, who longs to reveal God’s self in mercy, healing, hope and love. Moreover, we know that God’s capacity to restore and resurrect has no limits. Can anything good come out of these days? This is the hope we cling to. It is the hope we must offer to the world at this critical juncture.

Epiphany is a season of seeing, searching, finding, and knowing — revelation abounds in the texts for this season. I wonder what we can learn from the penetrating and grace-filled vision of God in these days. If Jesus were here right now, looking at what we are looking at, what would he see?

In the John story, we encounter a skeptic named Nathanael who thinks he knows exactly who God is and how God operates. Nathaniel is sure that the Messiah cannot possibly come from a backwater town like Nazareth. Nazareth is not good enough for the divine.

The story begins with Jesus going to Galilee, finding Philip, and inviting him to “follow me.” Philip accepts the call without hesitation, and then runs off to find his friend, Nathanael. Phillip finds him sitting under a fig tree and says, “We have found him about whom Moses in the law and the prophets wrote, Jesus son of Joseph from Nazareth!” But his friend under the fig tree is not impressed; his religious assumptions will not allow him to see anything fresh or surprising in a simple carpenter from the wrong side of the tracks. Instead of arguing with Nathanael, Philip simply responds, “come and see.”

When Nathanael does so, he receives the shock of his life. As soon as he and Jesus see each other, before they exchange a single word, Jesus says, “Here is truly an Israelite in whom there is no deceit!” And, “I saw you under the fig tree.”

Immediately, Nathanael moves from doubt to faith, from ignorance to knowledge. He experiences an epiphany.

But this story at its core is not about what Nathanael sees; it is about what Jesus sees. It is a story about Jesus’s way of looking and seeing, and about what becomes possible when we dare to experience his gaze. In this story, what makes salvation possible is not what Nathanael sees in Jesus, but what Jesus sees in Nathanael.

Seeing, of course, is always selective. We have choices when it comes to what we see, what we prioritize, what we name, and what we call out in each other.

Jesus had a choice when it came to seeing Nathanael. I wonder what would have happened if, instead of calling out Nathanael’s purity of heart, Jesus had said, “Here is a man who is stunted by doubt,” or “Here is a man who is governed by prejudice,” or, “Here is a man who is blunt and careless in his words” or “Here is a man passively waiting for life to happen to him.”

Any one of those things might have been true of Nathanael. But Jesus looked past them all to see an honesty, a guilelessness, a purity of thought and intention that made up the true core of Nathanael’s character. Maybe the other qualities were there as well, but would Nathanael’s heart have melted in wonder and joy if Jesus saw and named those first? Or would Nathanael have withdrawn in shame, fear, despair, and embarrassment? Jesus named the quality he wanted to bless and cultivate in his would-be follower, the quality that made Nathanael a person of beauty, an image-bearer of God.

Is it possible for us to see our present moment as Jesus sees it? Instead of deciding that we know everything there is to know about the political “others” in our lives, can we ask God for fresh vision? Instead of assuming that “nothing good” can come of the cultural mess we find ourselves in, can we accept Philip’s invitation to “come and see?” What would happen if we left our comfortable vantage points, and dared to believe that just maybe, we have been limited and hasty in our original certainties about each other, about God, and about the world? To “come and see” is to approach all of life with a grace-filled curiosity, to believe that we are holy mysteries to each other, worthy of further exploration. To come and see is to enter into the joy of being deeply seen and deeply known, and to have the absolute best that lies hidden within us called out and called forth.

I write these words in hope. In fragile hope, but hope, nonetheless. Not because we are capable of clear vision on our own, but because we are held by the eternal promise of Jesus who said: “You will see greater things than these.” We will. We will see heaven open. We will see angels. We will see the love and justice of God. So, do not be afraid. Do not hide. Do not despair. Live boldly into the calling of Epiphany. See. Name. Speak. Bless. God is near and God is speaking. Many good things can come out of Nazareth.