John 1:43-51 - See the Hidden Glory in Christ's Call - January 14, 2018

Humanly speaking, we Christians are a strange bunch. For starters, we submit our faith and our lives to a book that was written thousands of years ago in languages most of us cannot read. Then we find our greatest hope and joy in a man we have never met personally – a man who was tried and executed as a criminal, and we call him Lord and Savior. Then, if asked why we do these things, Lutherans will answer “I can’t really tell you why.” We don’t point to a dramatic epiphany we had or a process we went through or a decision we made. To top it off, most people today think that something is worth doing, worth committing to, worth sacrificing for – only if it leads to real, tangible, immediate benefits. Has following Christ made you happier? Eh, sometimes. Wealthier? Not really. Healthier? Nope. Well, then your family life must be peaceful and conflict-free, you must never be anxious about the future, your life must be easier and more pleasant now, right? No. Well, then, why do it? Why trust the Bible and follow Christ? That’s the heart of the issue, right? That’s the secret of Christianity. We are adamant that we don’t follow Christ because we are forced to or because it brings us temporal benefits – but, at the same time, we can’t really explain it. And that is the hidden, mysterious, inexplicable, glory of Christ’s call. It is both unexpectedly simple and incredibly profound.

The simplicity of the call to faith is on center stage at the end of John 1. Jesus is beginning to establish the Christian church. But he’s not standing in the Roman Senate. He’s not shouting from the steps of the Temple in Jerusalem. He’s out in the wilderness near the Jordan River where John the Baptist was baptizing and preaching repentance. As Jesus walked past, John said Look the Lamb of God! and two of his disciples, Andrew and John, heeded his encouragement and started following Jesus. (John 1:35-39) Andrew brought his brother, Simon Peter, to Jesus and Jesus called Peter to be his disciple as well. Peter and Andrew were from the town of Bethsaida (“house of fish”) – which led naturally to the next man Jesus would call: Philip.

Can you imagine a less dramatic, less interesting, less “made-for-TV” moment than the account of Philip’s call to discipleship? The next day Jesus decided to leave for Galilee. Finding Philip, he said to him, “Follow me.” Simple might be an understatement. But apparently there was something powerful behind those two little words follow me, because the next thing we know Philip is relating some truly dramatic information to Nathanael: we have found the one Moses wrote about in the Law, and about whom the prophets also wrote. This claim was anything but uninteresting and anticlimactic. This was what every believer since Adam and Eve had been waiting for. This was what God had promised to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. This was what all of the sacrifices, all of the rituals, all of the rules and regulations God had imposed on Israel were pointing to. Philip had become convinced that he had found the promised Messiah, the Savior on whom the hopes of Israel and the world hinged.

Who was it? A young prince who had been groomed for leadership in Herod’s palace? A savvy young priest in the line of Aaron? A prodigy from a Jewish seminary? No. Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Joseph. Nazareth! Can anything good come from there? There were probably two parts to Nathanael’s skepticism. First, Nazareth was located in the part of Israel known as Galilee. Far from being a hotbed of religious thought, Galilee was generally thought of as a religious wasteland. A reputation supplemented by the fact that it housed a garrison of the hated Roman army. The who’s who of Judaism wouldn’t want to travel to Galilee far less live there. Second, Nathanael knew his OT well enough to know that Nazareth is never mentioned in the Old Testament – and, therefore, is correct in questioning how the Messiah, the Savior, the King of Israel could possibly be connected with this Galilean village. A Messiah from Bethlehem or Jerusalem? Sure. But a Messiah from Nazareth in Galilee – that was unexpected.

Did you notice the simple genius of Philip’s response? He didn’t argue with Nathanael. He didn’t tell him how it made his heart quiver and his knees knock to be in Jesus’ presence. He didn’t try to lure him in with a promise of some material benefit. He didn’t adjust the truth to fit what Nathanael’s expectations. He simply said come and see. In a time when the church is frantically chasing after the latest and greatest outreach scheme, when simply preaching and teaching and baptizing and administering the sacrament is despised as “small-minded”, when we’re told that people won’t care about the Gospel unless the church first takes care of the things they want and need –we can learn an awful lot from Philip about how the church is really built. Come and see. No carefully scripted strategy, no pandering message, no social justice cause, no slick marketing campaign can compare to the simple invitation to come and see and hear the Word of God – because only the Word is the power of God for the salvation of everyone who believes. (Romans 1:16) Philip shows us how the Christian church grows: one person at a time through the means of grace!

So no, there was nothing earth shattering or newsworthy about Jesus’ call to Philip or Philip’s call to Nathanael. And as Isaiah prophesied 700 years earlier, there was nothing especially noteworthy about Jesus either. (Isaiah 53:1-3) He was a carpenter’s kid from a painfully average village in Galilee. But the impact of that simple call was huge. Christ’s call to Philip motivated him to tell others – beginning, where evangelism naturally does, with his close friends and family. Christ’s call to Philip and Nathanael resulted not only in their discipleship but, later, in being appointed as apostles. This simple call would lead them to follow Jesus for three years, to follow him through storms stirred up by nature and stirred up by Satan to a cross on Calvary and eventually (according to tradition) to their own deaths as martyrs. God’s call to faith might seem simple; but there’s nothing ordinary about what happens when the almighty God brings his power to bear on the heart of a sinner.

There was nothing earth-shattering about your call to faith, either. For most of us, a pastor said simply “I baptize you in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit,” splashed some water on our head, and that was that. For others, you first heard Jesus’ call as adults through simple words on a printed page or spoken by another human being. This is not the kind of stuff that makes the headlines or sends the Twitter-verse aflutter.

But that’s where the glory of the call lies. It looks so simple, but hidden behind the simplicity is an incredible miracle. For when Jesus called us to faith, he was not just calling hesitant skeptics like Nathanael. He was calling natural born enemies. We hated him with every fiber of our being before we even took our first breath. If you doubt that, first look at Psalm 51 or Ephesians 2 to see God’s analysis of your heart. Or just look back at the past week. Remember the thoughts and words that crossed your mind and lips, recall the actions you’d like to have back – and you will see the proof that your sinful nature is still opposed to God.

And how does God overcome our hostility? He simply connects the righteousness of Jesus to the words and water of Baptism and declares us to be his children. He sends his Spirit to work through the words of an ancient book that tells us about a God who became man to suffer and die to bring forgiveness and salvation to sinners. The whole thing is so simple that many try to liven it up by turning Baptism into something we do for God and conversion into an emotional decision we make for Christ. But don’t fall for it; don’t let the simplicity of it fool you – because that’s where the glory lies. The glory is that through even the simplest of means – words and water – Christ has called you out of the darkness of sin and unbelief and into the light of faith and holiness.

So simple…and yet so profound. Humanly speaking, we would give Nathanael a little credit, right? He did more than many people are willing to do: he went and checked out this Jesus fellow for himself. And Nathanael is introduced to the profound nature of Christ’s call before he even meets him face to face. When Jesus saw Nathanael approaching, he said to him, “Here is a true Israelite, in whom there is nothing false.” “How do you know me?” Nathanael asked. Jesus answered, “I saw you while you were still under the fig tree before Philip called you.” In confirmation class we talk about three things that prove Jesus is true God. First, the Bible calls him God. Second, he did miracles only God can do. Third, he has divine attributes: omnipotence, omnipresence, omniscience. The call to faith might appear simple, but for Nathanael it came from someone who had the power to read his heart, the power to see what he was doing long before spy satellites and drones. Faced with the divine power of God himself, he couldn’t be skeptical any longer: Rabbi, you are the Son of God; you are the King of Israel.

And that was just the tip of the iceberg: Jesus said, “You believe because I told you I saw you under the fig tree. You shall see greater things than that.” He then added, “I tell you the truth, you shall see heaven open, and the angels of God ascending and descending on the Son of Man.” Jesus appears to be referring to an incident in Genesis 28 from the life of Jacob. Jacob was on the run from his brother Esau – whom he had robbed of his father Isaac’s blessing. Jacob had fled from home and was sleeping outdoors with a stone for his pillow. Scared and alone, God came to Jacob in a dream depicting a staircase from earth to heaven – and angels ascending and descending. God was telling Jacob that even though he seemed to be alone, he wasn’t. God was present with him, even in the middle of nowhere. Here, Jesus refers to himself as the Son of Man – emphasizing that he is God in human flesh. In other words, Jesus is the staircase that reaches from earth to heaven. Jesus is the one – the only one – through whom we have access to heaven. His life has bridged the gap between God and man because his life satisfied the demands of God’s law that ours never have and never will. His cross has bridged the gap between God and man because his death has removed the barrier of sin that stood between us and God. It doesn’t get more profound than that. As Jesus would later tell Philip anyone who has seen me has seen the Father. (John 14:9)

Jesus’ call brings you blessings that are no less profound. He brings you forgiveness of sins, freedom from having to obey the Law perfectly to earn heaven, certain victory over death, and the assurance of God’s guiding grace and presence no matter where life leads you. Jesus’ call to faith brings us blessings we certainly do not deserve and would never think to expect. But sometimes that’s the problem, isn’t it? We don’t expect such profound blessings or we don’t see forgiveness and salvation as profound – and so we undervalue Christ’s call. We scoff at forgiveness as old news and begin to expect and demand different blessings; earthly, temporal, tangible blessings. Instead of expecting Jesus to keep his promise to open up the floodgates of heaven to pour out the spiritual blessings we really need, we expect him to satisfy our earthly, physical, emotional, momentary wants. The Christian author C.S. Lewis illustrated the foolishness of looking for Jesus to give us what we want rather than what we really need: It would seem that our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased. [1]

Don’t shortchange Jesus’ call to faith. Don’t pass on its profound blessings in favor of the trivial things this world prizes. Don’t turn Jesus merely into a life-coach who gives you good advice for day-to-day living or a psychologist who merely helps you cope with life’s challenges. Don’t turn Jesus into a buddy who simply pats your back and makes you feel good when you’re down. Yes, Jesus’ Word does direct our lives, his grace does help us cope, and he offers comfort for hurting souls – but if that’s all you’re looking for you will miss the much more profound and much more necessary blessings he offers. When you see the blessings that Christ’s call to faith has given and is still giving you – the adoption he gives at the font, the forgiveness he offers at the Altar, the promises he gives in his Word – then you have blessings that are so profound that they will last through all eternity.

But all of those things are only yours because in his love and mercy Christ has called you to faith and discipleship. No, it probably wasn’t an earth-shattering, mind-blowing spectacle, but it was profound nonetheless. It’s hard to explain it to others. So follow Philip’s example: don’t try to explain it, simply invite them to come and see Jesus for themselves. It’s that simple. It’s that profound. That’s the hidden glory of Christ’s call. Amen.

[1] https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/702-it-would-seem-that-our-lord-finds-our-desires-not