John
1:43-51
“Can anything good come out of Nazareth?”
What’s wrong with Nazareth? You might very well ask
this question.
I have often wracked my brains to come up with
contemporary examples that would help us understand Nathanael’s caustic remark:
Can anything good come out of Nazareth?
Why would he say that? How can we understand this in
our world and our time? To what can it be compared?
It has been a hard thing to do, actually, to come up
with an example, without risk of deeply offending someone by suggesting that
the place they came from is just trashy. It has been something I have been
loath to do because of the inherent bigotry in it. To suggest that nothing good
could possibly come out of some particular place is a deeply offensive,
bigoted, potentially racist, thing to say.
And it’s been hard to come up with a contemporary
example that would shed light on this comment Nathanael makes, although maybe
some among us have felt the experience of being on the receiving end of such a
comment. I remember a day from high school, sitting in my history class and
listening to the conversation between some kids who were sitting behind me. One
said something about a neighborhood near the school, Robin Drive. Then the boy
behind me said, “Oh yeah, you mean the ghetto.” I lived on Robin Drive.
Can anything good come out of Robin Drive?
Maybe people from Alabama have felt that way at
times, football notwithstanding. Or Mississippi. When educational or income rankings
are published and once again Alabama and Mississippi are vying for last place.
Can anything good come out of Alabama?
Can anything good come out of … We probably wouldn’t
say such a thing, because we know it’s not true. Can anyone really say that
nothing good can come from Haiti? Can anyone say that nothing good can come
from Africa? Of course not. Is it in any way reasonable, helpful, or true to
say that we don’t need anyone from those countries because they are, in a word,
but not the word we have been hearing so much of these last few days, dumps?
The very idea of it is anathema. To dismiss an entire nation with a vulgar
comment is, at best, ignorant; at worst, it is reflective of a deep-seated
racism.
While some might
argue it is nothing but political correctness to be concerned about comments
like these, I would say it is certainly more than that. To use such a broad
brush to condemn a place or a people is a dangerous thing to do.
But people do
dangerous things all the time.
Nathanael was
merely expressing a somewhat popular opinion when he said, “Can anything good
come out of Nazareth?” We read this question as a snide dig at all things
Nazarene, more than as an authentic query. Nathanael didn’t want to know what
was good about Nazareth because in his already made up mind there was nothing.
The fact is that
in those days people of Judea, Israel proper, looked with contempt on the
people of Galilee, that region to the north. Judeans regarded Galileans as
uncouth, country bumpkins. They would have used words like lazy and
undisciplined to describe them. But the only reason for looking down on them
was that they were different. They spoke differently, with their Galilean
accents; they probably dressed differently. Judeans would have looked at a
Galilean coming down to Jerusalem on pilgrimage to the temple and seen in him
someone not like us, not one of us. And
they might have felt contempt.
They also
coveted the natural resources of Galilee, which had agricultural and fishing
resources far richer. They were, at the same time, both contemptuous and
jealous of their northern neighbors.
A lot of people would
have endorsed Nathanael’s remark, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” Yet,
here’s the interesting thing: It seems as though Nathanael, too, was a
Galilean.
He was not from the
village of Nazareth, but the text suggests that Nathanael was from Bethsaida, a
village east of Nazareth, right on the Sea of Galilee. He was just as much “one
of those people” as Jesus was, yet he somehow felt superior to him. I chalk
this up to our human need to have someone to look down upon.
So when his
friend Philip called to him and said there is this guy from Nazareth you have
to meet, Nathanael gave him the back of his hand. But Philip was not deterred;
he said, “Just come and see.” And when he did, everything changed.
So how do you
suppose THAT happened? How was Nathanael’s ingrained, reflexive bigotry overcome
in an instant? How did he go from “no way” to “yes” so quickly? Jesus opened
his eyes.
We are in the
season of Epiphany, which we might call a season of seeing. The Magi traveled
across the world to see the Christ. And this seeing sets the tone for the whole
gospel story of those who see and those who don’t see.
In this story
from John’s gospel, we are introduced to a few men who do see him. Philip: We
have found the one Moses and the prophets told us about. Come and see for yourself.
Come and see.
Nathanael does
come and see, although I imagine Philip had to practically drag him there. I
can see Nathanael lagging behind the enthusiastic Philip; humoring his friend,
not expecting anything. Then suddenly seeing Jesus.
“Here is an Israelite
in which there is no guile, no deceit,” Jesus says to Nathanael. It is a
strange thing to say, seeming to come out of nowhere. And it seems to touch a
nerve for Nathanael. Because perhaps he, too, deep in his heart sees himself as
an honest man, an earnest seeker of truth. Maybe Nathanael is a man who has
been disappointed again and again, and has allowed cynicism to become his
armor, his protection against further disappointment. Maybe no one before this
has ever recognized this truth about Nathanael, this vulnerability in him, and
he is overcome with surprise, deeply moved. Jesus says to Nathanael, “I saw
you.”
I see you.
Now Nathanael,
with his eyes opened, cries out his delight and praise, and Jesus says to him,
“That’s nothing, my friend; you’ll see much greater things than this. Stick
around and you’ll see the heavens opened.”
Can anything
good come out of Nazareth? Absolutely. Open your eyes and see. There were
others, too, who opened their eyes and saw the Christ, the Son of God. There
were others, too, who said yes when he said to them, “Come with me, come and
see.” But there were more, it seems, who failed to see.
The Jerusalem
and Roman authorities failed to see that anything good might come out of Nazareth.
So they crucified him. To use such a broad brush to condemn a place or a people
is not only a contemptuous thing, it is a dangerous thing.
The world needs
people who can see. In the story of Samuel, the old priest Eli needed young
Samuel because, as the text says, Eli’s eyesight had grown dim so that he could
not see. The nation was dependent on him, yet he was no longer able to offer
them spiritual vision. Eli needed Samuel, Israel needed Samuel, whose vision
was clear. And Samuel said yes.
The world needs
people who can see, people who will say yes to the call of the Lord. The world
needs people who will say, “Speak Lord, for your servant is listening,” and who
will then speak truth to the lies that prevail. The world needs those who will
say yes against questions such as – Can
anything good come out of Nazareth? Can anything good come out of Robin Drive?
Can anything good come out of Haiti, El Salvador, Cameroon, Nigeria, Syria, and
any other place on earth that is the home of God’s children, people Christ died
for? Do we need people from these
places? Yes. Yes.
Photo: Nazareth neighborhood. By Tiamut at English Wikipedia - Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=1922140
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