“Come and See”

Text: John 1:43-51

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

            Nathanael—sometimes called Bartholomew, whose day is celebrated here today—was a true son of Israel. That is to say, he was a descendant of Jacob, the son of Isaac and grandson of Abraham. In our Gospel reading today, our Lord even calls Nathanael as much, as Jesus looks at him and is able to see everything that this soon-to-be Apostle was and would be. “Behold, an Israelite indeed, in whom there is no deceit!” But where our Lord calls Nathanael a true son of Israel without any treachery in him, the same could not be said for his ancestor Jacob, renamed Israel, in whom there was much deceit. Jacob had taken advantage of his brother Esau’s hunger, buying his birthright and inheritance for a bowl of stew. Then he had deceived his blind father Isaac into thinking that he was Esau and stealing the blessing that his father had been saving for his brother. Then, after running for his life because of his deceit, Jacob conned his uncle Laban into giving him the larger portion of his flocks so that Jacob became wealthy at Laban’s expense. Throughout his entire life, Jacob, Israel, was hedging his bets. Even though the Lord had promised that he would be preserved and blessed because he was to be the ancestor of the Messiah, Jacob still held back with his reservations and made sure that he had his hand on the wheel, at least a little, if not fully grasping it and trying to control things through his own cunning.

            And Israel’s descendants would continue this tumultuous history of double-mindedness. They would limp between the Lord and Baal. They would waver in their trust in the Lord, thinking that political alliances with enslaving empires would save them instead of the promises of their God. On and on it would go, the children of Jacob mimicking their ancestor, practicing deceit. So by the time we get to Nathanael, Bartholomew, it would appear that guile, or trickery, deceit or double-mindedness, was just a matter of fact. We can even maybe get the sense that Bartholomew himself knew something about that when his friend Philip tells him, “We have found him of whom Moses in the Law and also the prophets wrote, Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Joseph.” Nathanael’s response was full of snark, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” No one would have thought that the Messiah would be from such a backwater town. Surely he would be from Jerusalem, with all its glorious buildings; or a seat of wealth and power, like one of the cities named after Caesar; or even just a nice clean town by the sea, like Cana, where Nathanael himself grew up. He had his reservations that the most important person to ever be born would hail from a town of tradesmen who carved their homes out of caves in the hills.

            But Philip would not be deterred. He simply says, “Come and see.” So Nathanael, Bartholomew, goes to meet this Jesus. It’s as he’s walking toward his soon-to-be Teacher that Jesus sees him and declares, “Behold, an Israelite indeed, a true son of Jacob, in whom there is no deceit, no treachery!” So how can it be that the Lord, who is Truth in the flesh, says this about a man who just bashed Jesus’ hometown, who had his doubts that Jesus could really be the Messiah because of where He grew up? Didn’t Bartholomew have guile, a lack of simple purity? Didn’t he prove with his petty objections that he did in fact have deceit in his mind and heart?

The short answer is no. In spite of Nathanael, Bartholomew’s, reservations—even in spite of any difficult questions he might have about this potential Messiah—he still goes to Jesus when he’s invited by his friend. Yes, he has his questions; yes, he has his misgivings, but he goes anyway. And Bartholomew goes not to prove his friend Philip wrong. He doesn’t go for a gotcha moment. He doesn’t even go and see Jesus just to hedge his bets, just in case, like his ancestor Jacob was so infamous for. Nathanael comes to Jesus to see, simply because Philip invited him. And meeting Jesus in the flesh, hearing Jesus speak, finding out what Jesus knew—everything—that’s when Bartholomew’s faith was ignited. He might have had his questions, he may have not wanted to get his hopes up, but he still went, out of hope against hope, just to see if Jesus could really deliver everything that had been promised by the Scriptures.

You may see yourself as Bartholomew in this reading. You may have your questions. You might even have reservations from time to time, wondering if your Lord can really make good on all that’s been promised. You might have your fears—fear that this is all too good to be true, fear of being disappointed, fear of not being good enough, or that this Lord won’t be enough. You may hide all of that under a layer of cynicism and snark. You may hide it under a blanket of quiet desperation. You may associate with Nathanael on many levels with any number of questions, worries, or reservations.

Or you might be Philip, trying to get your friend or a family member to budge on the whole issue of faith. You may be met with prickly little answers to your honest invitations. You may have your enthusiasm for the truth, enthusiasm for your Lord, mocked and denigrated by those you try to talk to about it. Or maybe you’re both—Philip and Nathanael, depending on the day, depending on the company, depending on who you’re talking to and what’s been happening in your life.

But no matter who you associate with, the invitation in our Gospel reading is the same: “Come and see.” Come to this Lord and see. Hear His Word, listen to Him as He diagnoses exactly what it is that’s clinging to your soul—fear, disappointment, anger, worry, unfaith—hear Him as He reveals it clearly. Come to where He is, just like Bartholomew had to get up from under his fig tree, and go see. Watch Him as He heals whatever it is that’s bothering you, as He forgives you all your sins in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Receive the medicine of His body and blood, given and shed for your doubts, your misgivings, all the times you thought you needed to trust yourself more than you needed to trust Him. Don’t be dissuaded by the prickly answers or rebuttals to your excitement. Get up, get to where the Lord has said He will be in the flesh—that is, get to where His Word is proclaimed and His actual flesh and blood is present at the altar and Communion rail—and see. See if He can’t heal you. He can. See if He can’t calm your fears and anxieties. He will. See if He can’t tell you everything about yourself that you were too afraid to admit. He will, and then He’ll declare, in His forgiveness, in His love, that you are without deceit. Because you’re covered with His righteousness, not your own, you are without guile. You’ll hear His promise that you’ll see greater things and your faith will be sparked.

It’s then, when your faith has its sight, that you’ll see beyond the shallow things that your mortal eyes see. You won’t just see a wandering Galilean preacher from dusty old Nazareth. You won’t just see a trickle of water or a flat wafer of bread. You’ll see greater things. You’ll see heaven opened up—to you. You won’t see the jars of clay—the afflicted, the perplexed, the persecuted, the struck down. You’ll see more than a man hanging on a cross. You’ll see the life of Jesus, the resurrection of your Lord, being handed over to you. You’ll see your own eternal life stretching out before, revealed by faith in your Messiah Jesus.

Bartholomew did see great things in faith. He saw the heavens opened on a dark, gloomy Friday afternoon as the Son of Man was suspended between heaven and earth on a cross, serving a bridge between the two. He also saw His crucified Lord resurrected. Nathanael, Bartholomew, was one of the seven who got to see Jesus repeatedly after His resurrection, hearing the words that would seal his own eternal life. He knew that meant he would be raised, just like Jesus was. So tradition holds that Bartholomew went on to speak that good news of forgiveness and resurrection to distant lands after Jesus’ ascension. He ended up in India and Armenia, where he was martyred, either by beheading or being flayed alive. But it didn’t frighten him. His reservations and doubts had been dissolved long before. He had the hope—the certainty of faith—in his own resurrection and restoration. That’s your hope too. Come along with Bartholomew and see—see the greater things in Jesus. See the greatest things: forgiveness, faith, resurrection, and eternal life. In the name of Jesus, the Son of God and King of Israel. Amen.