Unfolding Joy: The Joy of Invitation

John 1:43-51

The next day Jesus decided to go to Galilee. He found Philip and said to him, “Follow me.”

Now Philip was from Bethsaida, the city of Andrew and Peter. Philip 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.” Nathanael said to him, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” Philip said to him, “Come and see.”

When Jesus saw Nathanael coming towards him, he said of him, “Here is truly an Israelite in whom there is no deceit!” Nathanael asked him, “Where did you come to know me?” Jesus answered, “I saw you under the fig tree before Philip called you.” Nathanael replied, “Rabbi, you are the Son of God! You are the King of Israel!”

Jesus answered, “Do you believe because I told you that I saw you under the fig tree? You will see greater things than these.” And 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.”

During this past Wednesday evening’s service of Joy and Delight, I had the pleasure of having some conversation with Siri Undlin who plays under the stage name of Humbird. She was sharing some of the new music she’s written during the pandemic. They’re beautiful little love vignettes, none of them more than 90 seconds long.

There’s one in particular that’s been in my head since Wednesday.  It’s called, “Rosemary.” Check it out.

If you didn’t join us on Wednesday, the whole of the video is posted to our YouTube channel, so you can still participate. I’d encourage you to check it out.  

In that little vignette, Siri stumbles across her partner talking to the herbs in her kitchen. And instantly a very ordinary moment becomes this extraordinary one of deep affection and love.

She says is there anything more lovely, or strange or funny, or totally terrifying.

That’s the line that hung with me this week. Because it is all of those things. Any real relationship of any depth is all of those things. It’s lovely and funny, but it’s strange and completely terrifying.

Imagine being Nathanael from today’s gospel reading. Here he is. Maybe because his friend Philip dragged him along. Maybe because he’s curious. Nathanael is certainly skeptical. He knows nothing good comes from Nazareth. Yet for some reason he goes to see Jesus.

And Jesus knows him. Like really knows him. And Nathanael knows that Jesus knows him.

Nathanael says, “Where did you come to know me?”

I mean, what could be more terrifying than to stand in the presence of the Son of God and really be seen for who you really and truly are?

Because Jesus knows. He knows what Nathanael said. He knows that he can’t help but say the first thing that comes into his head.  Jesus knows his nagging doubts and his skepticism. Jesus knows him.

Scary huh?

Come and see? No thanks. I’m not sure I want to be known, at least that not that well. Some things are better off left undiscovered.

Am I right?

Self disclosure: there’s nothing more terrifying if you’re on Team Introvert.

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“This isn’t America.” “This isn’t who we are.” I’ve heard those phrases a lot in the past weeks. I’m not sure they’re accurate. As unsettling as the past few weeks, or months, have been, I think they’re particularly frightening because it might be exactly who we are. And now we’re seeing it unvarnished, in the full light of day.  

Come and see? I’d rather not. I’m disheartened by the discord, by the violence in our words and our actions. I’m perplexed how people who know and love each other, neighbors who cared for one another for years, can see the world in diametrically opposing ways.

I want things to go back to the way they were. When things felt safer and predictable. I want to be able to pay attention to the drama in Hollywood and not the drama in Washington or on our street. I don’t like what I see or hear or feel right now. I want my life back.

As a leader of a largely white congregation, in an overwhelmingly white denomination, I live with these words from Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. forever in my consciousness:

I must make two honest confessions to you, my Christian and Jewish brothers. First, I must confess that over the past few years I have been gravely disappointed with the white moderate. I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro’s great stumbling block in his stride toward freedom is not the White Citizen’s Counciler or the Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate, who is more devoted to “order” than to justice; who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice; who constantly says: “I agree with you in the goal you seek, but I cannot agree with your methods of direct action”; who paternalistically believes he can set the timetable for another man’s freedom; who lives by a mythical concept of time and who constantly advises the Negro to wait for a “more convenient season.” Shallow understanding from people of good will is more frustrating than absolute misunderstanding from people of ill will. Lukewarm acceptance is much more bewildering than outright rejection.

I live with these words and am haunted by them. For how often am I waiting for a more convenient season to proclaim the justice of our God.

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Where did you come to know me? Where did you come to know us?

Why did you come? What are you here for?

In the season of Epiphany the church declares that Christ is the light of the world. We look for Jesus to lead a new way forward, a brighter way forward.

Friends, the light has come. It has seen us under our own respective fig trees. Jesus shines on us, and reveals in the starkest of terms all that we are. And still Christ says to us, follow me.

When it’s hard. When we want to turn back. When we want to quit altogether, Jesus says follow me. When we don’t even want to go, because we’re certain of what we will find. Jesus says follow me.

It’s terrifying. It’s strange and funny that Jesus would want me. But he does. And he wants you too. He wants you with a love that is fierce and powerful and is committed to healing and renewing this world. So even though the days are hard and long and uncertain, know that the messiah has come. It’s Jesus of Nazareth. Come and see.