January 14, 2024

Second Sunday after Epiphany Year B

Epiphany, Winnipeg

Samuel 3:1-20, John 1:43-51

Philip finds his friend Nathanael and tells him they’ve found the Messiah, and it’s Jesus from Nazareth. And Nathanael snorts and says, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” If you’re not sure what Nathanael’s question means, just fill in the blank your own way. Can anything good come out of…Altona? Can anything good come out of Steinbach? Or Dauphin? Or Point Douglas?

That’s what Nazareth is to Nathanael: One of those “other” places, and what good can come from there?

I grew up in Calgary, and one of the most important things about living in Calgary at the time was that you had to know that the worst place on earth was Edmonton. It’s not just a cute joke about hockey or football rivalries, because it sometimes just ran really deep so a lot of us honestly, at least at a gut level that just became angry and irrational sometimes, thought that nothing good could come out of Edmonton. So Wayne Gretzky was a lousy hockey player because he skated funny, and a crooked politician from Calgary was better than an honest party leader from Edmonton. I’ve known a few people in both cities who always voted Conservative, except when the leader of the Conservative party was from the other city.

Can anything good come out of Nazareth? In one way it’s just a simple question of prejudice. Can anything good come out of that place? That neighbourhood? That church? That party? That town?

It’s also a question about what places seem to matter. In their own religious tradition Philip and Nathanael have heard about some kind of great ruler who will govern the people wisely. They also know that all the important decisions and people come from places like Rome and Jerusalem. Not Nazareth. Not Altona or Dauphin or Point Douglas. The power’s in Ottawa or Toronto or Winnipeg, in Washington, Geneva, Jerusalem, Tel Aviv. That’s where things happen if anything that matters is going to happen. We don’t matter out here.

Can anything good come out of Nazareth? Out of these places that just don’t really matter?

But did you notice what Philip’s answer is? “Come and See.” That’s all. He doesn’t offer anything more convincing than that. He has nothing more than that to offer, because the way the story unfolds Philip has really only know Jesus for an hour or two. Jesus found Philip and said “Follow me,” and right away Philip went off and found Nathanael. He has no experience with Jesus that he can use to convince Nathanael that something good could come from Nazareth, so he just says, “Come and see.” Maybe something good can come from a dump like Nazareth.

And from that point on we’re all invited to come and see. We’ll see a carpenter’s kid from the backwater town of Nazareth make new wine for a wedding where they’ve run out of wine. He’ll give sight to a blind person who has never seen a thing in their life, and he’ll have a long back-and-forth and life-changing conversation with a woman from Samaria. He’ll raise his friend Lazarus from the dead and inspire a confession of faith like none other from Lazarus’

sister Martha along the way. That’s the kind of thing that can come out of a little place like Nazareth.

Jesus, this carpenter’s son from a far-away dot on the map will baffle highly educated religious leaders and will render the Roman governor named Pilate utterly speechless one day. Pretty good for someone from Nazareth, eh?

He’ll hand over his life to that same Roman governor, and that governor will have him put up on a cross. That’s what happens when someone from Nazareth, way out there, kicks up a fuss.

And then, just a few days after that, people will start to hear and see that Jesus is alive again.

Can anything good come out of Nazareth? It seems that the answer is yes.

Because God is not stuck with showing up only where we might expect, and God isn’t tied down by our ideas about what a good and acceptable place might be for God to be found. The word becomes flesh and lives among us. So sure, the word becomes flesh and lives among us here, in Fort Richmond right inside the perimeter, in Winnipeg where the important things happen. But the word becomes flesh in far flung places beyond the perimeter, like St. Norbert or Lynn Lake or Gillam. The Word becomes flesh in a homeless shelter or a bus shelter, or at the Urban today and every day. At a church with a stage and lights and bands and a few thousand people? Sure, but in a smaller place where the livestream sometimes shuts itself off for no apparent reason? Yes. In a tiny church in the country that will close its doors by year end? Absolutely. Something good come from all these places. Something good lives in all of these places. The Word becomes flesh and lives in those places, because the Word becomes flesh and lives among us, wherever there are any us or them to be among.

At a wedding feast. In a lonely place. In a crowd; on a cross. In Gaza and Tel Aviv, in Jerusalem and Beirut. In Edmonton, from Edmonton. And if any of our lives feel like forgotten or abandoned or ignored places that just don’t seem to matter – like our own little slices of Nazareth? - The Word becomes flesh, Jesus walks right in to these lives of ours. Can anything good come out of Nazareth? It appears that the answer is yes.

Now think back for a minute to that first reading we heard today. Theres’s a priest in the temple named Eli, and he’s been doing what he does for years and it’s time to think about moving on, and he hasn’t heard from God for a long time. There’s a young man, or maybe young teenager named Samuel who’s living at the temple and will probably become a priest himself one day, and as far as anyone knows he’s never heard any message from God. Late one night Samuel hears a voice calling his name – it’s God, actually - and he runs to Eli and wakes him up and says, “Here I am, what do you want?” But Eli wasn’t calling. Three times this happens. And after God tries three times to get Samuel’s attention, and after Eli who should know better can’t figure out what’s going on, Eli finally says, “You know, I think God’s calling you. Go and see what God wants. And Samuel goes, and finally Samuel able to enter into that conversation with God. All of that happened after two people talked back and forth, and didn’t understand, but kept on asking the questions.

Now jump ahead to this reading from John. Jesus finds Philip and says “Follow me.” Philip runs off and finds Nathanael and says “We found the Messiah, and he’s from Nazareth.” Nathanael says, “Ya, right. Nazareth? Can anything good come from there?” Philip says “Come and see,” and then Jesus comes along, and he and Nathanael have the next conversation. From Samuel to Nathanael, and all through the gospel of John, people are asking questions and not knowing what’s going on but keeping on asking questions and saying, “Come and see,” and as they do that they start to see and hear how God might be speaking or what God might be doing among them. It’s the questions, it’s the conversation, it’s the community, it’s the Come and See. That’s where faith grows.

Our call is not to be convincing or attractive or to have the answers. We just let the questions be asked, like Nathanael asks, and we can even just let the answer be “I don’t know. Come and See.” We don’t need to know any more than that. After that, we get on with life, with that “Come and see” rolling around in our heads. And who knows, we might see where God is and who Jesus is in the world where we live out our lives. Because that’s where the Word becomes flesh lives. In the world and the life all around us.

“Can anything good come out of Nazareth?”

Think about where we might ask the question. We see Gaza being destroyed and we hear of Israel feeling threatened by hostile neighbours and overreacting out of all that fear and we’ll ask, “Can anything good come out of a train wreck like that?” Something will, because the Word becomes flesh in rubble and places of fear. There will always be life rising up out of rubble and fear. Not just Gaza and Israel, but any place that seems like a lost cause: Come and see. The Word becomes flesh even there.

The question turns around in another way and becomes something more like this: Can anything good come out of Fort Richmond? Come and see – you’ll find out that it can. It does. Can anything good come out of 200 Dalhousie Drive? Yes. We might not actually know what that might be. But just come and see.

And finally, the question comes even closer. At any time, maybe a lot of the time, anyone of us (each of us?) might find ourselves asking a question more like this: can anything good come out of ___________________ (what’s your home address?)? Can anything good come out of my life? The word is flesh there too. In the Nazareths of our own lives, that might seem charmed or cursed, lovely or just a lot of rubble, important or just overlooked and ignored. Jesus comes from there too. “Can anything good come from that? From this life that I know?”

Yes.

Can anything good come out of Nazareth? Let’s just keep on asking the question, OK? And you know what? The answer is always Yes.

Come and see.