John 1:43-51
If todayʼs Gospel lesson teaches us anything, it is that the Gospel of
Jesus Christ is a message for cynics. Nathanielʼs question, offered with
incredulity and a healthy dose of skepticism, persists, and wonʼt let us go.
“Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” Perhaps we can identify with
Nathanielʼs cynicism; I know I can. I, too, have asked my own version of the
same question. “Can anything good come out of Nazareth? Of church? Of
faith?” Thankfully, it doesnʼt have to end there. The invitation to “come and
see” and to be astonished beyond our wildest dreams, to be greeted with
hope that shatters our preconceived notions and lies outside our carefully
placed boundaries, is extended to each and every one of us. Cynicism can
be transformed into faith. THAT, my friends, is VERY good news.
Let us pray:
Come, Holy Spirit; fill the hearts of these your faithful, and kindle
within us the fire of your love. May our words and our hearts together
glorify you, O God, our Rock and our Redeemer. Amen.
I have a friend who is an incessant email forwarder. Often they are
pithy jokes or a humorous picture of something quite silly. Recently,
however, I received this forward, called “Cynical Wisdom.” It contained
tidbits of sardonic one-liners, like:
Change is inevitable ... except from vending machines.
• For every action, there is an equal and opposite criticism.
• He who hesitates is probably right.
• No one is listening until you make a mistake.
• Two wrongs are only the beginning.
• Monday is an awful way to spend 1/7th of your life.
• A clear conscience is usually the sign of a bad memory.
• Bills travel through the mail at twice the speed of checks.
• 72.9 percent of all statistics are made up on the spot.
• If at first you don't succeed, then skydiving definitely isn't for you.
Funny, arenʼt they? Maybe some of you have thought or uttered these
same things; perhaps some of you have even read and forwarded this
email. Yet, if we are honest with ourselves, we might find this cynical streak
runs a little deeper than just a funny email. Cynicism seems, at times, to
define life in the United States in 2012, and, proving cynicism is as old as
time itself, it also seems to define one of todayʼs characters, Nathaniel —at
least for a time.
This passage from John comes in the middle of Jesus gathering his
disciples. The two fishermen brothers, Andrew and Simon Peter, have
already joined with Jesusʼ motley crew of followers. Then Jesus decides to
go to Galilee, and invites Phillip to join the ranks. We donʼt know exactly
how Phillip responded, but gathering from the rest of the story, and given
that from this time forward, Phillip is included among the 12 disciples, we
can infer that he, too, decided to follow Jesus. Phillip is so elated after his
encounter with this man from Nazareth, that he finds his friend Nathaniel
and, barely able to contain his excitement, exclaims, “weʼve found him! Itʼs
Jesus of Nazareth!”
And Nathaniel cocks his eyebrow and questions, perhaps rhetorically: “Can
anything good come out of Nazareth?”
I did some reading about Nazareth. It didnʼt take long, because we donʼt
know much at all about Nazareth in Jesusʼ day. Nazareth is barely, if ever,
mentioned in first century documents outside of Scripture. The little we do
know is largely speculative and wholly unremarkable. What we do know is
that Nazareth was a small community of anywhere between 500 and 2000
people. Nazareth was likely located not far from a major East-West trade
route that ran from Egypt to Asia called the Via Maris: picture it as one of
those tiny towns along rural stretches of I-95. Nazareth was situated in the
hill country of Galilee, a region of fishing and farming that was also known
in Scripture for its distinctive regional accent and for having a large
population of Gentiles, a high number of immigrants, foreigners, resident
aliens. In other words, it was a place where some Jewish sects, intent on
keeping customs and purity laws, would probably have rarely, if ever,
ventured, and would certainly have been thankful that they werenʼt born
there. Perhaps you are beginning to see the scandal in Jesus, the Messiah,
the one about whom Moses and the prophets wrote, coming from such a
place.
Archaeological evidence also shows that Nazareth may have sat somewhat
in the shadow of the nearby city of Sepphoris, which was being rebuilt as a
regional capital around the time of Jesus. Sepphoris was the place where
the action was. Sepphoris was the place with the Roman theater and all the
cultural and social attractions one could desire. Sepphoris was the place
where the young people went off to work and find jobs. Sepphoris was the
place where stuff happened. Nazareth, on the other hand, was the place
where nothing happened. One study bible calls Nazareth “an insignificant
agricultural village.” It had nothing to set it apart, nothing to literally, place it
on the map. “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” becomes a
reasonable reaction to hearing that THIS was where Jewish Messiah, the
harbinger of Godʼs kingdom, came from.
But, I think thereʼs a little more going on here than just Nazarethʼs
reputation. Surely that has a part to play, but there is something about
Nathanielʼs cynicism that feels so personal. You see, I believe Nathaniel
was passionate about Israel. The Israelitesʼ deep longing for meaning and
worth came from their national identity as the people of God, as Godʼs
covenant people. Nathaniel, as a good Israelite, longed for God to redeem
Israel. He was familiar with the Jewish belief that God would send a
Messiah to Israel to usher in an era of peace. Like so many Israelites, he
bound up his sense of purpose and worth with his people. And yet he
suffered only disappointment. The Maccabean revolt a century and a half
before had failed to establish Israelʼs prominence. Prophets and preachers
wandered throughout Israel proclaiming that the messiah was coming, yet
Israel still suffered Roman oppression. It is little wonder, then, that
Nathaniel is cynical. Wouldnʼt you be, too, if everything you had ever hoped
for, if everything you staked your very life on, seemed to be so close, and
yet so far away?
“Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” Phillip, perhaps ready for this
question, knows that nothing he can say will assuage Nathanielʼs disbelief.
All Phillip can do is to invite Nathaniel to “Come and See,” to invite
Nathaniel to have the same experience Phillip had. So Nathaniel goes,
perhaps begrudgingly, perhaps willingly, but definitely skeptically. Nathaniel
couldnʼt have expected what comes next. Seeing him coming towards him,
Jesus calls to him, saying "Here is truly an Israelite in whom there is no
deceit!" In other words: “Hey, Nathaniel! I know you! Youʼre a pretty decent
guy!” It doesn't appear to be tongue in cheek. It seems like a
straightforward description based on his knowledge of Nathanael.
Nathanael is flabbergasted. Did this guy from Nazareth really say that?
Nathaniel, feeling not a little shocked, stammers: "I don't believe we've met.
Where did you get to know me?”
“I saw you under the fig tree before Phillip called you.” By this simple
sentence, Jesus reveals just how much he knows about Nathaniel. Jesus
knows that Nathaniel is educated, that he is religious, that he has a keen
understanding of the promise of the Messiah. In those days, “under the fig
tree” meant that you were praying and reading the Scriptures. The teachers
of the day said that every man should “study the law under their own fig
tree.” The fig tree was literally a place for study and prayer, especially for
young rabbinic students, which Nathanael may well have been.
In an instant, all of Nathanielʼs preconceived ideas about Nazareth, all the
ways he thought Godʼs promises of hope and peace SHOULD look were
unraveled and upended. Nathaniel discovers that, Yes! Something good
DID come out of Nazareth. Jesus came out of Nazareth. It was in Nazareth
that Jesus was raised. It was in Nazareth that he likely attended synagogue
and recited Torah and learned the words of Scripture. It was in Nazareth
that Scripture says Jesus “increased in wisdom and in stature and in divine
and human favor.” And all the rest of his life, Jesus would carry the name of
his home community with him: on the lips of crowds, demons, and angels,
he would be called, Jesus of Nazareth.
In a flash, Nathanielʼs cynicism is turned into faith, his doubt into faith.
“Rabbi, you are the Son of God! You are the King of Israel!” To which Jesus
replies: “Listen, if you think THAT was cool, you just wait.” Nathaniel
accepted the invitation to “Come and See,” and he would never be the
same again.
Victor Hugoʼs classic novel Les Miserables focuses on Jean Valjean and
his experience of redemption. Valjean, a hardened convict who has just
been released from prison, cannot find work. Everywhere he goes, he must
present papers telling of his crimes, and people turn him away. In
desperation, he jumps parole and destroys his papers – a crime that would
send him back to prison for life. While on the run, he finds shelter at the
house of a priest. That night, while the priest is asleep, Jean Valjean steals
the only objects of worth in the house: the silverware and silver
candlesticks. Valjean is stopped by the police for violating curfew, and they find the stolen goods. When the police take him back to the priestʼs house, the priest, awakened by the
guards, says that he has given the candlesticks as a gift. He sends the
police on their way. Then he turns to Valjean, saying that he has spared
Valjean in the name of Christ. He gives Valjean the candlesticks and the
silverware, and charges him to become an honest man. All that day,
Valjean wrestles in inner turmoil. He is shocked and confounded by what
the priest has done. He debates on whether he should kill him or if he
should just run with the money. But somewhere in the midst of this turmoil
of anger and confusion, God enters the picture and breaks Valjeanʼs heart.
In response, Valjean dedicates himself to the pursuit of goodness. For the
rest of the book, Valjean tries to live a just and noble life as mayor while the
merciless inspector Javert hunts for him, convinced that redemption is a
myth, that people can never change.
We live in a world that is full of Javerts, of people who believe that the
Valjeans and the Nathaniels can never really change, can never have a
moment when their cynicism is transformed into faith. Peruse any
newspaper, watch the news on TV, or listen to conversations in the grocery
store. Murder, war, corruption, violence, greed, and selfishness attack us
from every angle. It seems that the message of hope that humankind is
inherently good, that Godʼs Kingdom of peace and justice will come on
earth, that faith in Jesus of Nazareth really has something to offer the world
becomes less and less relevant, or even believable. Even those of us who
profess faith arenʼt immune to this cynicism. We get cynical about our lives,
our families, our churches, our faith, and sometimes for good reason. We
get cynical about the good news that a better day is coming, as Martin
Luther King Jr so eloquently said, a “day when all of God's children, black
and white, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join
hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, 'Free at last! Free at
last! Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!' It seems so unattainable and
unfeasible, and we are left to wonder: “can anything good come out of any
of this? “Can anything good come out of our own Nazareth?” “Can anything
good come out of the Gospel message?” “Can anything good come out of
Calvary Presbyterian Church?”
And do you remember what Philip said? “Come and see.”
Friends, some twenty centuries ago, a man named Phillip said to his friend
Nathanael, “I have found someone you should know. Come and see for
yourself.” Phillipʼs invitation inched Nathaniel past his cynicism into a lifechanging
experience of faith. Each one of us is called to be Phillip, to invite
the world to come and see, to experience the good that can come out of
Nazareth. The task is not easy, and the cynicism that seems so ubiquitous
is relentless, even to those of us who have heard the gospel call. But this
church, and each one of us, has a message of hope to give to a world that
so desperately needs good news. May each one of us have the boldness to
say: “Come and see.” Amen.
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