What Does Jesus See in You?
a sermon based on John 1:43-51
by Rev. Randy L Quinn

It often surprises people to learn that I’ve moved less often since I became a United Methodist pastor than I did prior to my ordination. In fact, the longest I’ve ever lived in one place at one time was a United Methodist parsonage – and the second longest I’ve ever lived in one place at one time was also a United Methodist parsonage.

I have moved a lot in my life, so often that some people have suggested I write a book about how to move – including how to settle into a new place and a new setting. Some of you have never had to deal with those issues, others have been spared the frequency I’ve experienced, and a book might help – though I’m not sure we’d ever read it so I don’t think it’s worth writing.

Were I to write such a book, however, I think one whole chapter would be devoted to how to find a barber. It seems like a simple thing, but I’ve learned that some barbers are better than others. And it often takes me two years to find one I like. And unfortunately, I can’t honestly say I’ve found one in Sunnyside yet.

When I first get my hair cut, I ask several questions. I want to know how long they have been cutting hair. I want to know where they learned to cut hair. I want to know why they chose this profession.

I’m not sure how much their answers influence my decision to keep going back, but I’ve heard some answers that kept me from returning. On barber said, “I graduated from college and had about a dozen short term jobs. I never liked any of them so I tried cutting hair. I’m still looking for a real job.”

Even if he had done a good job with my hair, I knew I wasn’t going to return. That kind of background made me suspect I’d be looking for another new barber in a year or two, so why stop the search there? (As it turns out, one of the best barbers I ever used was a retired golf pro who began cutting hair to keep busy and because he likes to cut hair – and he did a good job, too.)

We often ask about someone’s background, don’t we? We want to know what credentials a person has, by what authority they speak or act. There are also times when we don’t really care about their background.

Martin Luther King, Jr., spoke with conviction and authority. We don’t often ask about his credentials. I didn’t know them, so I went looking for them. He earned a Bachelor’s degree in sociology in 1948, graduated from seminary and was ordained in 1951, and earned a doctoral degree in systematic theology from Boston University in 1955. He was ordained in the church where his father served as pastor, the same church his grandfather had founded.

Not many of us know his educational background. But we do know him as an eloquent spokesman of the civil rights movement. We don’t need to know his credentials to recognize King’s witness to God in our society.

In the first chapter of John, there are several different responses to Jesus. Some people respond based on what little they have heard. Others want to know about his credentials. Neither is wrong; neither is right. People come to Jesus from a variety of backgrounds and perspectives – then and now.

From the simple invitation to “Follow me,” Philip is convinced of who Jesus is (Jn 1:43). No long period of sorting it out, no prolonged question and answer session, no need for finding the right formula or the right creedal statement. Philip simply responds in faith.

And one of the first things he does is to share the good news he has found. He goes to tell his good friend Nathanael (Jn 1:45). But Nathanael is one of those people who need to check out the credentials. And he is troubled by the answers he gets.

You see, Nathanael knows his Bible. Philip asserts that Jesus is the one spoken about by the prophets (Jn 1:45), but Nathanael knows the town of Nazareth is not where the prophets said the Messiah would be found. He knows it is a small backwater town of little or no significance.

So when Philip tells him that Jesus, whom Philip believes to be the Messiah, is from Nazareth, it’s easy to understand his skepticism. How could anything good come from a place never even mentioned in the Holy Scriptures (Jn 1:46)?

Bethlehem, yes. Jerusalem, yes. Maybe even Bethel. But not Nazareth.

He is so certain nothing can come from there that he is reluctant even to listen. But Philip encourages him to just come and see (Jn 1:46). Don’t make a commitment. Don’t change your mind about it; just give him a fair hearing. Then decide.

What else can Philip say? He can’t cite any scriptures to prove his point. He can’t refer to the teaching of the elders. He can’t call on the religious authorities. In fact, if he had to rely upon any of those he’d be considered a lunatic or a heretic.

All he can do is ask Nathanael to take a risk, to risk an encounter with someone who doesn’t fit the mold. Jesus may not meet Nathanael’s expectations, but God doesn’t always work in expected ways.

The miracle of this story is that Nathanael actually takes the time to listen. Despite his scornful comments about Nazareth, despite his well-warranted skepticism, Nathanael takes the first step toward discipleship. He goes with Philip to meet Jesus.

And after listening, Nathanael makes what I think is the clearest confession of faith found in any of the Gospels: “You are the Son of God! You are the King of Israel!” (Jn 1:49). (Ironically, while Nathanael becomes the faithful, trusting, obedient disciple; Philip becomes the skeptic and the doubter.)

But Nathanael isn’t the only one interested in credentials. Jesus looks at Nathanael and makes some pretty amazing observations about who he is! “A true Israelite, in whom there is nothing false” (Jn 1:47).

How did he know that? Clairvoyance? Overheard conversation? Divine inspiration?

We don’t know exactly. Jesus says he saw him “under the fig tree,” but there is nothing to indicate what he saw that makes him know so much about Nathanael. We don’t know if the fig tree was where Nathanael conducted business or held secret meetings; we don’t know if he went to the fig tree to make public speeches or hold family picnics. Nathanael responds with such enthusiasm that we know what Jesus says rings true for Nathanael.

Nathanael apparently decides that something good can come out of Nazareth while Jesus wants to know if anyone else has seen the good he sees in Nathanael.

The same question could be asked of us, of course. God sees us – under the fig trees of our lives – and knows the truth of who we are. God sees all of the potential in each of us to reflect the glory of God in our world today. God sees the good in us and asks us to see the good in others.

It is the same theme that was often echoed in much of what Martin Luther King said and did. What is probably my favorite quote of Martin Luther King’s is from a speech – or was it a sermon? – he gave on the Mall in Washington, DC.

“I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.”

It’s a dream I have come to share, for I have a similar dream. I dream of a day when society will look at Melissa and see her abilities rather than her dis-abilities. I hope that one day we will look at each other and see the credentials God gave us: the simple credential that we are all created in the image of God.

King’s dream has yet to be fulfilled in its entirety. We still look for different credentials. Where a person is from, what language they speak, what they do for a living, how they dress, and even what color of skin they have is still a part of our judgement of another person. We still look and see our differences before we see what we have in common. And it becomes an indictment of ourselves when we succumb to those attitudes of our past.

Jesus calls us to a new way of living, a new way of seeing, and a new way of loving. Jesus is challenging our assumptions and inviting us to expand our limited visions.

In his book, Unexpected Guests at God’s Banquet, Brett Webb-Mitchell tells the story of a pastor who was serving communion to a young boy who was mentally retarded. As the bread was shared, there was the sudden awareness that both of them had a common dependence on God’s gift of grace. Both were in need of forgiveness and healing. The boundaries that others had named in terms of their differences were suddenly unimportant.

Their credentials were simply a common calling from God. And those are the only credentials worth claiming.

I believe God sees the good in each of us and all of us. I also believe we can hinder God’s intentions and limit what God can do through us.

Curiously, after Nathanael’s profound profession of faith, Jesus begins to speak in plural. It’s one of those places I wish translators of the text were from the south so we would hear the “y’all” that Jesus uses because we’re included in the promise here. It isn’t just Nathanael who will see “heaven opened and the angels of God ascending and descending” (Jn 1:51). It’s us.

Whenever we open the doors of the church to people outside our little circle of friends, we open the gates of heaven. And whenever we shut people out of the church, we close the gates of heaven. And when the gates of heaven are closed, the son of man can’t come to us, either.

It behooves us to open our doors wide.

I don’t know who the last person you invited to church was, but the story of Philip and Nathanael challenges us to be like Philip and invite someone. Invite a neighbor. Invite a co-worker. Invite a Boy Scout. Invite a stranger. But invite someone!

Don’t worry about their credentials. God has already taken care of that.

And if they’re concerned about OUR credentials, just say what Philip said, “Come and see for yourself.” I, for one, believe there are good things happening here and am not ashamed to invite people in to see it for themselves.

I know that God is at work here. God’s grace is known and recognized and celebrated every week.

Thanks be to God. Amen.