Jesus was looking for a few good people who had the potential to embrace his passion for God’s dream. He found Andrew and Peter first. According to the writer of the Gospel of John, they were initially followers of John the Baptist – until their mentor clothed in his usual camel’s hair with his crazy diet of wild locusts and honey told them that Jesus was the One, Jesus was the Lamb of God, Jesus was the Messiah. So, they hitched their star to Jesus’ wagon, and the three of them journeyed together to Galilee. That is where Jesus found Philip – and that is where our story for today begins.
Phillip was awfully excited when he encountered Jesus because he immediately put two and two together. He had never met John the Baptist, so no one had told him that Jesus was the One.
As far as Philip was concerned, this was big news indeed. After all, Israel had been expecting the Messiah, the Anointed One, to show up for a long, long time now. He also knew that posters plastered around town and even posting to Facebook or announcing it on Twitter just would not cut the mustard when it came to getting people to understand that this man Jesus was the One they had been waiting for.
Philip had a real story to tell about the Good News that Jesus would be a real game changer going forward, and Phillip also intuitively understood that to create a real movement around this man, well, signup sheets on bulletin boards just would not do the trick.
Consequently, Philip jumped into this evangelism business quickly – and started talking up Jesus. He did not know exactly all that Jesus was about – and he was not sure he could even put it all into words. However, that would not stop him from trying; his passion was that great – and, face it - enthusiasm can go a long way!
Nathanial was the first person that Philip ran into, bubbling over with his positive energy. “Nathanial, guess what? We have found him, you know, the One we have been waiting for. Andrew, Peter, and I: We have found him – and he is gathering some of us together – and we will have great adventures and we will travel and eat in restaurants and sleep in barns and maybe even have campfires in the evening.”
Nathanial listened as he sat alone contemplating his naval under a fig tree. “Yeah, OK, go on,” he said with a sort of skeptical look on his face and tone in his voice. “Who is it this time? Who is this guy?”
“It’s Jesus, Joseph’s son, you know, from Nazareth.” Philip continued excitedly.
“Nazareth? You have got to be kidding! You expect me to believe that the Messiah hails from Nazareth?” Nathanial replied, his scorn and disbelief coming through loud and clear when he said the word, “Nazareth”. You know, “Naaaa-zareth?”
And then, of course, the clincher, the conversation stopper. “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?”
And Nathanial was right to question Philip’s unbridled enthusiasm for a man the latter had just met a day earlier. You see, Nathanial was a good Jew – an excellent Jew, in fact - and he knew all about the One they had all been searching for.
As blogger Russell Smith wrote, “Nathaniel was passionate about Israel. (He) longed for God to redeem Israel. He longed for God to send a messiah who would lead Israel into a new era of international prominence. 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 Israel’s prominence. Prophets and preachers wandered throughout Israel proclaiming that the messiah was coming, yet Israel was still in Roman chains. Nathaniel was becoming cynical and jaded. His attitude was ‘show me the money; I’ve heard all the claims, now let’s see some action.’”
Nathanial knew the Temple’s take on the Messiah by heart. The Messiah would be the son of David, not the son of some obscure carpenter named Joseph. If the Messiah was a political type, he would arise from a bigger and more noteworthy town, a town with more influence. If the Messiah was the priestly type, no question but that he would come from Jerusalem, the Holy City, the site of the Temple itself, the locus of theological debate, reflection, and education, and the seat of Jewish religious power.
But Nazareth? Not a chance. After all, Nazareth was a backwater undistinguished place. As blogger Peter Woods noted, “Nazareth wasn’t a good place to put on your Curriculum Vitae as your place of origin. In fact, if there was Facebook back then, you wouldn’t acknowledge that you were from there on any social media. Nazareth was a dump. It didn’t feature in any Old Testament prophecies. No great personage had come from there. It wasn’t the seat of any power and no great families hailed from Nazareth. It was a simple backwater town. No great schools, colleges, universities. There was nothing. Nazareth was nowhere.”
Nazareth probably had a population of only 500 or so, and it was situated far from any East-West trade route. Nazareth was like when you are on the highway and see an exit sign for gas in some town you have never heard of, and, because the light for the reserve tank on your dashboard has just come on and, OK, be honest, you are also hoping for a MacDonald’s, you turn off the highway – and end up driving for miles before you see either the yellow arches or an Exxon or Mobil or Shell sign.
Nazareth sat in the hill country of Galilee, a region of fishing and farming – and, definitely, no Uber. People from Nazareth had a distinctive regional accent (in other words, they spoke funny), and there were a lot of immigrants, foreigners, and people from away.
“Can anything good come out of Nazareth? Hah! You have got to be kidding. Now – run along, little boy, I have got better things to do sitting under my fig tree than dream of the Messiah coming out of Nazareth,” declared Nathanial.
However, rather than being put off by Nathanial’s cynicism that was so clearly wrapped in that skeptical and negative response, Philip answered in the only way anyone evangelizing (because, that is what Philip was doing, evangelizing) ought to answer. He did not argue or debate with Nathanial. He did not come up with a laundry list of rational reasons for following Jesus. He did not try to convince Nathanial with logic. He simply said to him, “Well, you may not believe me, but come and see – and make your own decision.”
And on that non-threatening basis alone, Nathanial did – and the encounter was clearly mind-blowing because he ended up proclaiming Jesus to be the Son of God and King of Israel – and, best of all, he ended up becoming one of his disciples.
Can anything good come out of Nazareth? On the surface, it would appear not, but come and see. Can anything good come out of the Raymond Village Community Church with its rural roots and its gray-haired congregation? On the surface, it might appear to be too small, too tired, but come and see – and make your own decision.
I wonder if the future of our church might be bound up in our willingness to invite others to come and see, but more than that, to invite others to come and sharewhat we have found in this community – whatever that might be. And so, I would challenge you this week to think about what it is that you have found in this faith community that keeps you coming back week after week or keeps you pledging year after year.
If you were to invite someone to come and see, what is it about this church that you would want them to experience? And is there a non-threatening way that does not get your stomach all tied up in knots to extend that invitation?
I know that, in the end, the future of our church is without a doubt in God’s hands. And I know that the Spirit which inspired Philip and even overcame the negative skepticism of Nathanial is out there too – or rather in here – swirling about – nudging us, encouraging us.
However, I also know that the Spirit does not inspire in a vacuum. The Spirit speaks through each one of us. I have got to believe that God’s expectation is that, if our church is going to survive, we must find ways to say the words, “Come and see”, if we are ever going to create the desire and the curiosity necessary for those we meet to do just that: “Come and see.”
However, there is more to this story about expectations and presumptions. Can anything good come out of Nazareth? Can anything good come out of each one of us?
You know, if there is one thing that we as humans are really good at (unless we are pathological narcissists), it is putting ourselves down. Who are we to talk up Jesus and the church? We are too old, too shy, too inarticulate.
We are just a single individual in a small church, albeit one with a big heart, that most people do not know about. But is that really all we are? Or is there more to each one of us? Good questions to reflect on, I think.
As UCC pastor Jed Watson wrote, “How well do you see yourself? How well do you know yourself? Can you see yourself objectively, as you really are? Do you know the real you, in all of your complexity? I think we often fail to see ourselves clearly - or adequately, for that matter. Our society and our culture condition us to think and feel about ourselves in certain ways – and with enormous limitations – ways that cannot help but cloud our vision.
We are female. We are single. We are tired. We are busy. How we often fail to appreciate the good and positive and redeeming things about ourselves! Negative self-perceptions cannot help but eclipse the light that others might see radiating from us. And sometimes it is our loved ones and friends, and even perfect strangers, who can see in us – and in our church - things that we honestly, genuinely do not see ourselves.
‘Really? Me? This church?’ ‘Yeah, you, this church. Isn’t that obvious to you?’”
Can anything good come out of Nazareth? Yes. Can anything good come out of each one of us? Yes. Can anything good and sustainable and reflective of God’s dream for the world come out of this church? Yes.
As your pastor, I see a group of people who can easily become discouraged and are a wee bit tired, but a group of people who love this church nonetheless. I see a group of people who sometimes find it hard to believe that we – you and I - are the ones whom, as the Psalmist sang, God has awesomely and wonderfully made for ministry. I see a group of people who have gifts that they may not even know are gifts – organizational skills, wonderful voices, creativity, a sense of humor, dogged determination – and even some who can actually say to someone else (or at least post on Facebook): Come and see.
Can anything good come out of Nazareth? Philip thought so – and eventually so did Nathanial. Can anything good come out of this church? Your Visioning Team – and I as your Pastor - think so, and we confidently expressed that optimism at the Annual Meeting last week, hoping that you will come to that conclusion too and join wholeheartedly in the ministries of our church going forward. They may not be ministries as we have always done them. They may lead us down paths we have never experienced.
They may make our church seem less like what we always presumed our church would be. They may – just may – answer Nathanial’s question differently than we would expect. Can anything good come out of our church? Yes. Come and see.
Can anything good come out of each one of us – particularly in our relationship to this church? As your pastor, my hope is that, by simply feeling comfortable being our God-made selves – seeking peace, working for justice, following the way of Jesus - something good will come out of each one of us as well.
Now, you each have a drawing of a lightbulb attached to your bulletin. Be thinking of the gift, the light, that you bring to this church. And if you are a guest today? You be thinking too. Think about the gift that you offer to the broader community here in Raymond – or might someday offer to this church.
What are you good at? What do other people say you are good at? Are you good at teaching, at singing, at leading worship? Are you good at organizing projects or motivating others? Are you a good artist? Are you a good cookie baker? Mashed potato maker? Are you good at fixing things? Are you good at keeping people’s spirits up when times are tough? Are you a good conversationalist?
Are you good at making people see the humorous side of a situation? Are you good at saying to people in one way or another: ”Come and see”?
Between now and our final hymn, I challenge each one of you to write down on your light bulb what you are good at, what has the potential to make you shine in this church family or in the Raymond community. You see, as we sing our closing hymn, I am going to invite you to bring those light bulbs forward and lay them on the communion table. They will be a visible sign of the gifts – the light – that we bring to the ministries of our church or to the work of the greater community. And perhaps we can think of all those light bulbs shining when, in our own ways, we say to our neighbors and friends “Come and see” knowing that we will have something powerful and profound and so like Jesus to show them.
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