“He Comes from Where?”

John 1:43-51

Why did Nathanael ask Philip, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” Before answering that let’s find out a little more about Nathanael. He was from Galilee, as were Jesus and Philip. He was perceived by Jesus as being a “true Israelite,” a faithful student of the Law and keeper of the Covenant between God and Israel. He was so innocently transparent that Jesus read his heart in an instant, and knew, as only God’s Son could know, that Nathanael was good disciple material. He had the “right stuff” to follow Jesus.

Why was a Galilean asking such a question about Nazareth? One hypothesis is that because Nazareth was not specifically named in the Hebrew Scriptures, it could not be a very significant place. Another was that Nathanael’s question simply reflected some sort of small town rivalry. Nazareth just does not compare to our community.

The most probable answer, though, was the Judean prejudice against anyone from Galilee. Galilee was too close to Samaria. That in itself made it suspect. Galilee had a large population of Gentiles: an unclean, pagan, already-damned- to-hell sort of crowd whose impurities were thought to have been rubbing off on the Galileans. The Galileans were, in a sense, Judea’s country-bumpkin cousins, the kind you try to hide in the closet. Years ago I penned a silly little ditty to the tune of “Jesus Loves Me” as a way of putting into words the prejudices Judea’s religious leaders and social elites felt toward Jesus: “Yahweh loves us more than thee; because you come from Galilee.”

Nathanael’s question was simply a cultural reflex. Even good people can be bigoted, and in Nathanael’s case self-demeaning. Philip, all excited about Jesus and wanting to introduce Nathanael to him, wasn’t the least bit discouraged by Nathanael’s question. He didn’t get his feathers all ruffled and walk away in a snit. He didn’t stand there and engage Nathanael in some debate over cultural and theological differences. He didn’t argue with him. He didn’t even tell him that he was wrong about Jesus. He simply said, “Come and see.”

That, my friends, is a model for doing evangelism. Philip was a real evangelist. First of all, he had already met Jesus, believed him to be the Messiah, and decided to follow him. We can’t tell people about a Jesus we don’t know him. He was excited about this great thing he had experienced, and couldn’t wait to share that experience with a friend. He had a relationship with Nathanael. He didn’t just walk up to him out of the blue and ask him if he was saved. And he wasn’t put off by Nathanael’s seeming indifference. He didn’t take it personally or feel that his beliefs had been discounted. His faith didn’t depend on Nathanael’s agreement. He was going to keep following Jesus no matter what.

There are some lessons here for us. We can’t proclaim a Gospel we don’t believe. We can’t share a faith we don’t have. What I like to call hit-and-run evangelism is mostly ineffective. My Granddad Richardson taught me that one. Granddad was a Church of God evangelist. He took his faith seriously. He was a character. He could be a hoot. One day he found himself in Lynchburg, VA, and decided to check out Thomas Roads Baptist Church, the mega-church founded by Jerry Falwell. As he was walking around minding his own business this very earnest young Baptist Christian walked up to him, and without any sort of preamble asked him if he had been saved.

Here is Granddad’s answer, “It’s none of your business.” In other words, “You may be on fire for Christ but you don’t know me. You know nothing about me. You have not earned the right to ask me such a personal question.” Hit-and-run evangelism does not work! I will give it this, it’s better than the non-evangelism most of us Presbyterians practice.

A couple of weeks ago I said that we do not threaten or shame people into the Kingdom. We love them into it. We also cannot argue, coerce, or debate people into the Kingdom. We can only invite them into it. Making sure, of course, that our lives reflect our citizenship in that Kingdom. And more often than not we have to earn the right to issue such an invitation. We must build a trusting relationship with them. A Methodist colleague of mine took that thought even farther. He insisted that we should never invite anyone to God’s house until we have invited them to our house. I don’t totally agree, but he does have a good point.

One final point before shifting gears: we must not get discouraged because someone’s first response to our invitation is no. We can’t take it personally. We can’t stop inviting them. And for goodness sake, even if they never accept our invitation, we do not wipe our hands of them and break off our relationship. We don’t walk away. We remain their friend, and keep loving them. We continue to pray for them. We trust the Holy Spirit to nurture whatever seeds of faith we might have planted. Who knows? Somewhere out in the future, quite possibly nowhere in our vicinity, those seeds will take root and finally they’ll get it.

Nathanael got it almost immediately. Regardless of Jesus’ origins Nathanael recognized him for who he was: the Son of God and King of Israel – the Messiah. He followed Jesus, and in the months and years to come he indeed witnessed incredible things: miracles, healings, exorcisms, and profound teaching. Ultimately he witnessed the resurrected Lord and experienced him as the One about whom Thomas passionately exclaimed, “My Lord and my God.”

Now we shift gears. When I first arrived on the campus of Union Seminary I felt real out of place. Many of my fellow students were sons, daughters, nieces, nephews, and grandchildren of Presbyterian ministers. Some of them were valedictorians of their graduating classes or Phi Beta Kappas. I wondered how I, who had graduated from a cow college with a C+ average in Marketing Education, could ever keep up. I kept imagining that folks were talking behind my back, asking one another, “Where does he come from? Can anything good come out of Virginia Tech?” All that disappeared once another cow college graduate and I were the only ones to ace the first Greek exam. Who woulda thunk it? Frances and Leroy’s little boy from Christiansburg, VA got a 100 on his first Greek exam! And, yes, I’m bragging a little bit.

When it comes to evangelism most of us are totally lacking in self-confidence. “Why should anyone listen to me? I’m not a deacon or elder. I didn’t go to seminary. I don’t have a PhD in theology or biblical studies (and I really don’t). I graduated from a cow college. I didn’t even go to college. I’m too old. I’m too young. I’m not good enough of a Christian. I wasn’t born in America. I wasn’t brought up as a Presbyterian. How can anything good come out of my rinky-dink hometown?”

If we truly know Jesus, and if he truly is our Lord and our God, and if we faithfully, though imperfectly, follow him, and if we really do believe the Good News we are called to share with the world, and if we’re willing to share Christ’s love with people, and if we’re willing to make friends with strangers and maybe even enemies – if all that’s true then none of the above matters. If people reject Christ because of our pedigree, that’s their problem. If people refuse to follow Jesus because they don’t consider us rich enough, pretty enough, American enough, white enough, black enough, conservative enough, or liberal enough, it’s not us they’re rejecting. They’re rejecting Jesus for the same reasons the Pharisees rejected Jesus: he wasn’t good enough, orthodox enough, or Jewish enough.

Conversely, if we hesitate to invite someone to Grace for any of those things listed above, then we have a problem. We’re taking it upon ourselves to decide who is good enough for Grace, or who’ll fit in at Grace, or who’ll be comfortable at Grace - which really means that we’ll be uncomfortable because they’re here. We’re not just deciding who we can love; we’re assuming that we know who Jesus loves. Never, never, never, never are we allowed to ask about any person, “Can anything good come out of that class, that race, that nation of origin, or that family?”

Almost 2,000 years ago certain people couldn’t accept Jesus as the Messiah because he came from Nazareth. Those same people looked down their noses at those to whom Jesus ministered, considering them trash. Didn’t he know that they weren’t worth saving? We cannot allow ourselves to become that kind of people. We must never stop believing that the following words apply to everybody: “Jesus loves me this I know; for the Bible tells me so.” Amen.