Out of Unexpected Places
A few weeks ago Nicole and I were having a conversation with our daughter, Sonia, and somehow the talk turned to some of the things that we liked way back in the 1990’s. Because nothing gets a teenager’s rapt attention like their parents beginning a story with, “When I was your age…” And first we tried to explain to her what a hacky-sack was. How, back in the days before the internet, kids would stand around in a circle and kick a beanbag back and forth to each other and that was our idea of fun.
And Sonia did not believe us.
We also told her that there was a period of time around 1994 or so, when, for no apparent reason, the whole world suddenly got really into Gregorian chants. The album, “Chant,” by the Benedictine Monks of Santo Domingo de Silos went double platinum, selling over 6 million copies, and peaked at #3 on the Billboard charts.
And again, Sonia did not believe us.
Well… it seems that the tables have turned because earlier this week, Sonia, who spends most of her free time glued to her phone watching TikTok videos, showed us something called Sea Shanty TikTok. Where, apparently, it’s the hot new thing now to not only sing sea shanties with your friends, but also to take modern pop songs and re-arrange them into a sea shanty style and sing them that way.
And were it not for the videos – the dozens and dozens of videos of kids, teenagers, young adults – singing sea shanties. I would not have believed her.
You never know what’s going to come out of the blue to bring you a moment of joy, or a break from the troubles of the world, or just make you laugh and smile for a moment. It could be something so impossibly dated and passe that the sheer absurdity of it becoming popular again just tickles you. I got that same sense of “this is so stupid, I love it,” watching those sea shanty videos as I remember having kicking the hacky-sack around with my friends decades ago.
Unexpected joy from unexpected places has a way of making us feel good about the world. We’ve seen enough unpleasant surprises come our way over the last year that it’s easy to become jaded and cynical. And I’m not saying the unpleasant surprises are at an end. But I am saying that God puts moments of joy in our lives too. Moments that come to us from places we would think of.
It’s that same spirit of the unexpected that the first disciples experience when Jesus tells Philip to follow him and together they find Nathanael. And Philip tells Nathanael, “This is the guy! The one Moses and the prophets talked about! Jesus from Nazareth!”
And Nathanael’s response is pure gold.
“Can anything good come out of Nazareth?”
It’s cold. It’s raw. It’s sarcastic and condescending. It’s one of those little reminders that as we read the Holy Scriptures, as full as they are of wisdom and great teachings, and divine knowledge – that they’re books not only about God, but also about real people. People who don’t always say the right things or do the right things. People who can be mean, or thoughtless, or just a little rough around the edges.
Can anything good come out of Nazareth?
It’s glib and demeaning and just an off-the-cuff dismissal of the hometown of God’s son, the salvation of all mankind.
Nazareth? That little Podunk backwater out in the middle of nowhere? It’s nothing but dirt and goats. It’s worthless.
Putting it charitably, Nathanael’s comment about Nazareth shows that he isn’t burdened with an overabundance of political correctness. Less charitably, he comes across as a rude and arrogant jerk.
Clearly, whatever Nathanael was expecting, Jesus of Nazareth wasn’t it.
“Can anything good come out of Nazareth?”
“Come and see.”
Nathanael’s disdain is so apparent and so deep, that there is nothing that Philip can say to convince him otherwise. So he does the only thing that is certain to work.
He issues an invitation.
“Come and see.”
See for yourself. I can tell you about Jesus. I can sing songs of his glory, and share the news of his miracles. I can tell you his story. But that only thing that will make you believe is to see Christ for yourself – to experience God’s presence in your own lives.
And you are invited to do so.
The point of this passage isn’t to talk about how great Nazareth is. It probably isn’t.
The point is the invitation.
The invitation to come out of where we are comfortable, to put our biases and prejudices aside, and to see for ourselves.
Nathanael accepts Philip’s invitation. He comes with him. And Jesus sees him under the fig tree. And we presume that the miracle here is that the tree was far away, or that there was something blocking its view, so that Nathanael shouldn’t have been seen. And Jesus sees him anyway. As far as biblical miracles go, this one is pretty small potatoes. But it changes Nathanael’s view profoundly.
He’s no longer questioning, “what good can come from Nazareth?”
But he’s proclaiming Jesus to be the Son of God, and the King of Israel.
Because he accepted the invitation.
The open and honest invitation to put aside the misgivings and the cynicism – to brush aside the preconceptions about what to expect from Jesus, and to simply “come and see.”
Not a, “Come with me, so I can prove you wrong.”
Not as a prelude to an “I-told-you-so.”
But just a simple, straightforward, “come and see.”
No, this Jesus guy from Nazareth of all places – he might not be quite what we’re expecting him to be. But listen to his words. Feel his presence. There is God’s precious love in the Word of Christ; in the spirit of Christ, in the living resurrected body of Christ. And we are invited to share in that love. All we need to do is come and see. Amen.
Let us pray.
Lord, in our troubled world, we have grown used to being buffeted by unpleasant winds of change. From natural disasters, civil unrest, a global health crisis, and so much more, we have come to expect the worst. Lord, we pray that you may challenge our expectations, and send goodness and love, peace and mercy, and sometimes even a little absurdity into your creation. Give us hearts to love, to laugh, and to share joy with each other. We pray in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.
A few weeks ago Nicole and I were having a conversation with our daughter, Sonia, and somehow the talk turned to some of the things that we liked way back in the 1990’s. Because nothing gets a teenager’s rapt attention like their parents beginning a story with, “When I was your age…” And first we tried to explain to her what a hacky-sack was. How, back in the days before the internet, kids would stand around in a circle and kick a beanbag back and forth to each other and that was our idea of fun.
And Sonia did not believe us.
We also told her that there was a period of time around 1994 or so, when, for no apparent reason, the whole world suddenly got really into Gregorian chants. The album, “Chant,” by the Benedictine Monks of Santo Domingo de Silos went double platinum, selling over 6 million copies, and peaked at #3 on the Billboard charts.
And again, Sonia did not believe us.
Well… it seems that the tables have turned because earlier this week, Sonia, who spends most of her free time glued to her phone watching TikTok videos, showed us something called Sea Shanty TikTok. Where, apparently, it’s the hot new thing now to not only sing sea shanties with your friends, but also to take modern pop songs and re-arrange them into a sea shanty style and sing them that way.
And were it not for the videos – the dozens and dozens of videos of kids, teenagers, young adults – singing sea shanties. I would not have believed her.
You never know what’s going to come out of the blue to bring you a moment of joy, or a break from the troubles of the world, or just make you laugh and smile for a moment. It could be something so impossibly dated and passe that the sheer absurdity of it becoming popular again just tickles you. I got that same sense of “this is so stupid, I love it,” watching those sea shanty videos as I remember having kicking the hacky-sack around with my friends decades ago.
Unexpected joy from unexpected places has a way of making us feel good about the world. We’ve seen enough unpleasant surprises come our way over the last year that it’s easy to become jaded and cynical. And I’m not saying the unpleasant surprises are at an end. But I am saying that God puts moments of joy in our lives too. Moments that come to us from places we would think of.
It’s that same spirit of the unexpected that the first disciples experience when Jesus tells Philip to follow him and together they find Nathanael. And Philip tells Nathanael, “This is the guy! The one Moses and the prophets talked about! Jesus from Nazareth!”
And Nathanael’s response is pure gold.
“Can anything good come out of Nazareth?”
It’s cold. It’s raw. It’s sarcastic and condescending. It’s one of those little reminders that as we read the Holy Scriptures, as full as they are of wisdom and great teachings, and divine knowledge – that they’re books not only about God, but also about real people. People who don’t always say the right things or do the right things. People who can be mean, or thoughtless, or just a little rough around the edges.
Can anything good come out of Nazareth?
It’s glib and demeaning and just an off-the-cuff dismissal of the hometown of God’s son, the salvation of all mankind.
Nazareth? That little Podunk backwater out in the middle of nowhere? It’s nothing but dirt and goats. It’s worthless.
Putting it charitably, Nathanael’s comment about Nazareth shows that he isn’t burdened with an overabundance of political correctness. Less charitably, he comes across as a rude and arrogant jerk.
Clearly, whatever Nathanael was expecting, Jesus of Nazareth wasn’t it.
“Can anything good come out of Nazareth?”
“Come and see.”
Nathanael’s disdain is so apparent and so deep, that there is nothing that Philip can say to convince him otherwise. So he does the only thing that is certain to work.
He issues an invitation.
“Come and see.”
See for yourself. I can tell you about Jesus. I can sing songs of his glory, and share the news of his miracles. I can tell you his story. But that only thing that will make you believe is to see Christ for yourself – to experience God’s presence in your own lives.
And you are invited to do so.
The point of this passage isn’t to talk about how great Nazareth is. It probably isn’t.
The point is the invitation.
The invitation to come out of where we are comfortable, to put our biases and prejudices aside, and to see for ourselves.
Nathanael accepts Philip’s invitation. He comes with him. And Jesus sees him under the fig tree. And we presume that the miracle here is that the tree was far away, or that there was something blocking its view, so that Nathanael shouldn’t have been seen. And Jesus sees him anyway. As far as biblical miracles go, this one is pretty small potatoes. But it changes Nathanael’s view profoundly.
He’s no longer questioning, “what good can come from Nazareth?”
But he’s proclaiming Jesus to be the Son of God, and the King of Israel.
Because he accepted the invitation.
The open and honest invitation to put aside the misgivings and the cynicism – to brush aside the preconceptions about what to expect from Jesus, and to simply “come and see.”
Not a, “Come with me, so I can prove you wrong.”
Not as a prelude to an “I-told-you-so.”
But just a simple, straightforward, “come and see.”
No, this Jesus guy from Nazareth of all places – he might not be quite what we’re expecting him to be. But listen to his words. Feel his presence. There is God’s precious love in the Word of Christ; in the spirit of Christ, in the living resurrected body of Christ. And we are invited to share in that love. All we need to do is come and see. Amen.
Let us pray.
Lord, in our troubled world, we have grown used to being buffeted by unpleasant winds of change. From natural disasters, civil unrest, a global health crisis, and so much more, we have come to expect the worst. Lord, we pray that you may challenge our expectations, and send goodness and love, peace and mercy, and sometimes even a little absurdity into your creation. Give us hearts to love, to laugh, and to share joy with each other. We pray in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.
