There’s a distinct but very obvious difficulty in reading a novel for the second, or even third or fourth time. After the first reading, you know exactly how it ends. Returning to the beginning of a novel for a second reading is to bring the end into the beginning. The initial excitement of reading voraciously through a book to discover how the climax will play out is difficult, if not impossible, to recover.
And it’s no different with the Christian story. If we’ve gone to church and read the Bible, and perhaps even if we haven’t, we know what happens. We know that God creates everything and calls it good. We know that God’s people rebel time and again, and yet God still calls them back into covenant with him. We know that God sends the prophets but that God’s people usually don’t listen to them. And yet, God still persists in love. We know the misfortunes of God’s people, how Jerusalem is ravaged and how the people go into exile. We know that they return to the holy city and rebuild the Temple. We know that the story is an alternation between sin and repentance with God’s unremitting love holding it all together. And we know that in the fullness of time, God sends his only-begotten Son to take on human nature and live and die among us. We know that he’s crucified and raised from the dead. And we know that this changes everything.
In short, we think we know the climax of the story, and it seems as if we’re living in a perpetual denouement after the events of that third day following Jesus’s death. And this, I think, makes it very difficult to approach the story as if we don’t know what happens. And it also makes it quite easy to encounter this story as if we were reading the phone book.
But because we have chosen to be here while much of the world sleeps in or has determined that Christianity is irrelevant or boring, let’s try to reset our minds and rediscover the initial excitement of our great story as if we’re experiencing it for the first time. Let’s imagine for a moment that we don’t know what happens. We’ve been told that this is a thrilling story and that it involves a man named Jesus and his disciples and that this man, who is the Messiah, will change everything. But that’s it. Now, let’s imagine that we’re with those first disciples in backwater Galilee, and Jesus finds us and says something simple. He says, “Follow me.”
Maybe we’re struck by the fact that Philip immediately follows without really knowing Jesus very well. Perhaps we’re impressed that he would then go and find Nathanael to bring him to Jesus. But then, it might be that we’re sympathetic to Nathanael’s initial skepticism. Can anything good come out of Nazareth? Can anything good come out of . . . well, you fill in the blank. I’d mention my own hometown, but you’ve never heard of it.
Nathanael is the one in whom there’s no guile. He’s bluntly honest. “How do you know me?” he asks Jesus. And Jesus says that he saw him under the fig tree even before Philip called him. For whatever reason, this is enough information to cause Nathanael to confess that Jesus is the Son of God and King of Israel. And then Jesus utters the line that should make us want to pick up this story again and again and read voraciously until the end. “You shall see greater things than these.” Or as one translation puts it, you haven’t seen anything yet![1]
But for those of us who know how this story ends, we say, of course. Yes, we have seen what is yet to come. Jesus will work miracles and heal and teach and preach. He will die on a cross. And then he will be raised from the dead and appear to his disciples. He will ascend into heaven and then send his Holy Spirit upon his disciples to empower them to reach to the ends of the earth. The Church will grow and spread. Millions will be baptized. Many will die for their faith, but that Church will still thrive and do amazing things. The teaser that Jesus drops in his conversation with Nathanael is talking about all this. Nathanael hasn’t seen anything yet. And it’s going to be incredible.
But the problem remains: it’s not as easy for us as it was for Nathanael to hear Jesus say, you haven’t seen anything yet and feel goosebumps or notice our heartrate accelerating or gasp with excitement. We think we already know the end of the story. It’s as if deep down in our hearts we really believe the greatest things have already happened, that this story is over, or, at the very least, that it’s in its perpetual denouement.
And because we supposedly know how this story ends and might be bored, we find ourselves strangely back with Nathanael who doesn’t yet know how the story will end. We’re stuck with Nathanael’s skeptical and cynical question, can anything good come out of Nazareth? The unexpressed silent question from us is really a doubt that there’s still more yet to come that will change our lives and the world. And although we may confess with Nathanael that Jesus is the Son of God and the King of Israel, we seem to think that’s this is all there is to the story. We recognize who Jesus is. He’s our Messiah. We follow him. That’s it. And we conveniently forget that the story is still in dynamic motion. Jesus is still here among us as the Risen Christ who is ascended and glorified, and he still speaks to us just as he spoke to Nathanael all those many years ago. And he says, you haven’t seen anything yet!
If only the Church could fully believe this! Haven’t we lost this eager anticipation? Haven’t we forgotten what it was like to pick up the novel and read eagerly to see how everything would unfold? And have we come to believe that there really is nothing left to this story? Do we trust that God is still revealing things to us and showing us greater and greater things? When and how did this incredible story become so innocuous to us?
The constant question of the Church is too often, can anything good come out of Nazareth? Can anything good come out of a fledgling group of followers who seem to be decreasing in number? Can anything good come out of the scandals and the divisions? Can any harmony be found amid so much discord? Can any enthusiasm for God be found amid so much malaise?
It’s as if we’ve forgotten that the One who came to join heaven and earth still joins heaven and earth. He still comes daily into our lives, in every moment and in every place. In every corner of this planet walks One who is risen from the dead and whose presence is the locus of angels descending and ascending through an opening in the heavens. He’s the One who reveals to us that indeed we haven’t seen anything yet, that the story isn’t finished, and that great things are yet to come. He’s the One who reveals a God who’s still acting dynamically and creatively in our lives and especially when they seem so very ordinary and hopeless.
To believe that we still haven’t seen anything yet is what it means to be a Christian. It’s to change the narrative that tells us that we’ve already seen everything worth seeing. To change the narrative is to say that the world’s apathy about Church and God is not the final word. It’s to say that even a parish brought close to death can revive once again. It’s to say that asking whether we have enough money or enough children to start a chorister program or enough people to do ministry is like asking, can anything good come out of Nazareth?
But the Risen Christ replies that the story isn’t over yet. It’s only just beginning. Come and see, Christ says. You haven’t seen anything yet. See the gifts present in yourselves and in your neighbor in the pew. See the resources God has given you for ministry. See the goodwill out there despite all the hatred. See the lives that Christ is still changing. See the beauty of creation that hasn’t yet been despoiled. See the potential for spiritual growth in your very midst. See that there is so much good yet to come.
We may still from time to time ask that question: Can anything good come out of Nazareth? It’s the question put into our minds by the Accuser and Enemy of our natures. It’s the monotonous question of a confused and apathetic world. But we can always expect the truest answer to come from the One who yet reveals our future to us. And when we’re in relationship with him, no matter how many times we ask the question, we must always be prepared for his answer: you haven’t seen anything yet!
Sermon by Father Kyle Babin
The Second Sunday after the Epiphany
January 14, 2024
[1][1] The Message translation by Eugene Peterson