Service on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/100064617886792/videos/1107345084740396 (first 1/2 audio only)
“Come and see.” What a quaint, little Scripture reading we have today. Nothing disturbing or dramatic, nothing stirring or inspirational—at least at first glance. But perhaps there’s more there than meets the eye—pun intended. As John suggests, let’s “come and see.” We’re given here a different view of the calling of the first disciples, without anyone leaving their fishing boats and family at the behest of Jesus. Instead, we have unnamed disciples following Jesus just because John the Baptist says, “Look, here is the Lamb of God.” Were they prompted by simple curiosity? A stirring in their hearts? Skepticism? Would they even have known what John meant by the phrase “Lamb of God”? Would we have? I sure wouldn’t have had a clue. In fact, I still haven’t got a good image of what that might mean, but let’s go on.
It’s a stretch, and I’m probably totally wrong here, but I’m wondering if the first disciples were actually Irish. I suggest that because when Jesus asks “What are you looking for?” they respond, “Where are you staying?” And the Irish always answer a question by asking another one! But I digress.
So, let’s look first at Nathanael, whom I’ll mislabel “the skeptic.” He asks, “Can anything good come from Nazareth?” and is suspicious when Jesus calls him an Israelite in whom there is no deceit. Jesus’ allusion to having seen Nathanael under the fig tree has meaning in the Jewish tradition, though its meaning was totally lost on me. The fig tree refers to the fertile foundation of God’s people and signifies a blessed life in the promised land. The metaphor suggests two things: first, that God knows us, and secondly, that we are meant to be in relationship with God. Remember the quotation, “My heart is restless until it rests in Thee, o Lord.” True then. True now.
The question about Nazareth might be more of a surprise than a judgment, given the rural nature and small size of Nazareth. That, of course, screams at me, “Can anything good come from Dousman?” The answer is a resounding “Yes,” provided that we, too, come and see.
Jesus asks “What are you looking for?” The response “Where are you staying?” might sound like a non-sequitur. But the would-be disciples might really have been asking how they can be with Jesus, where they can find His presence. Let’s ponder why these men—and, I’m sure, unnamed women—might have responded to John’s invitation and to each other’s declaration of having found the Messiah.
Why did these disciples follow? Adventure? A larger experience of the world? To make a difference? To fight the powerful and resist the Roman occupation and corrupt leadership of Judea? To find themselves? To get out of the house? Or “just because”? Or the 2025 word of the year: 6 7?
While it might be nice to muse over the question of the disciples’ motives, we might, more importantly, ask ourselves, “Why do we come?” We do not have the experience of walking with Jesus as they did 2,000 years ago, but growing out of that experience, we now have the church and our fellow travelers on this journey of faith. Pastor Leanne shared some thoughts with me, offering possible answers to that question.
People come to church looking for something. Some are looking to get out of church by twelve o’clock to beat the traffic to a favorite brunch spot—or to get home on the couch before the Packers’ noon kickoff. Some are looking for community, for a place to belong, to connect with other people, and connect more with God in the process. Some are looking for a foundation upon which to build their lives; others for a connection with the Divine; others for a connection with the past, with what life was like when they were growing up. Some are looking for the healing of body or soul or both. Some seek redemption, new life on the other side of mistakes made or opportunities missed. People come to church looking for many things.
From our series this summer on holy resistors, we might remember hearing about Julian of Norwich, the 14th century English mystic who was walled into a cell and who shared her divine encounters and visions. I found this tidbit in my exhaustive FaceBook research, and it seems to fit this morning: “Today, her cell at St. Julian’s Church in Norwich—rebuilt after being destroyed in World War II bombings—draws pilgrims from around the world. They come seeking what visitors sought [over seven] hundred years ago: wisdom, comfort, and connection to a God of overwhelming love.
I’d like to challenge each of us to ask ourselves what we’re looking for. And it’s important to realize that our reasons often change over time. You might remember my story of attending the Billy Graham crusade at Milwaukee’s County Stadium years ago. I boldly ventured onto the field when we were invited to come forward—not as a testimony to my faith, but as a way of getting to stand on third base to honor my childhood Milwaukee Braves’ hero, Eddie Mathews.
And when Terry and I moved to Oconomowoc in 2005, it was important to her that we seek out a church—again not as a testimony to our faith but as a very pragmatic solution to the problem of her not knowing whom to call if I died. Maybe that’s doing the right thing for the wrong reason, but it got us here. And the community we found kept us here. (pause) Since the ‘60’s, I’ve had a plaque in my home with a quote from a Jesuit priest, Bernard Cooke, that reads: “We need to have people who mean something to us—people to whom we can turn, knowing that being with them is coming home.”
We can find God in many places and times throughout our lives. One of my favorite passages is in Jeremiah 29:11-14, where God says, “I know the plans I have for you, plans for peace, not disaster, reserving a future full of hope. So when you seek Me, seek Me with all your heart, I shall let you find Me.” The disciples were invited to “come and see,” and so are we today. We can find God AND invite others to “come and see.”
Here’s where I get more than a little bit confused. Today’s Scripture talks only about coming and seeing, and in John’s Gospel, the disciples are not sent out to spread the Good News until after Jesus has been resurrected. So does that mean that they spent the three years of Jesus’ public ministry just traveling with Him, learning from Him and witnessing to his miracles? The other Gospels show them engaged in active ministry—the kind of action that might attract others and encourage them, too, to come and see.
Wouldn’t the development of a relationship with God propel anyone to take action to attract others who also are seeking? And wouldn’t this relationship with our Creator unite us with each other as we seek a deeper relationship with God and all of his creation? Can we attract others—in Dousman perhaps, or in our families, our work environments, on the golf course, or in our social communities—and share what brings us peace, joy, comfort, or whatever it is that we seek most? Have we said to anyone about whom we care, “Come and see”? Might we?
Many years ago, one of the priests at the Jesuit Retreat House in Oshkosh used to tell us that we’d know we’d made a good retreat if within three days of returning to Milwaukee, at least one person said to us, “My, how you’ve changed!” If only it were that easy. You can rest assured no one ever said that to me—and I’ve been making retreats there for fifty years! (Another Jesuit said forgetting your morning prayers is not a sin, but pouting to get your own way is wrong. Ouch!!!
But what I’ve learned and experienced has made a difference, and that, I believe, is what I’m called to share. Sharing my faith journey requires, though, that I been willing to be vulnerable with my fellow journeyers. Pious hypocrisy will not attract anyone, even if I’m looking good on the outside. I saw a cartoon a week or so ago that says, “Acting perfect in church is like dressing up for an X-ray.” I’m glad I don’t have to be perfect or look good to be welcomed here. You all make it possible for each of us to be here in response to God’s invitation to “come and see.” Perhaps we can be brave one of these days and offer that invitation to others in our community so that we can say to Nathanael, “Yes, something good can come from Dousman.” Come and see.
Amen.