Come and See

 Christ Episcopal Church, St. Joseph, Epiphany 2

What a strange little conversation we hear in today’s Gospel story. “Come and see,” Jesus says, to two complete strangers. And they do. And the world changes, just like that. Not only for Jesus, and those two strangers, but for us as well.

 

We are in the season the church calls “Epiphany,” which means “showing forth” or “manifestation.” We celebrate not just any manifestation, but the great manifestation or showing forth of Jesus as the Son of God and savior, not just of the Israelites, but of the whole world.

 

 

Epiphany begins with the three wisemen from other parts of the world arriving in Bethlehem. They seek “the king of the Jews,” and upon seeing Jesus—at that point a toddler—they bow down and pay homage to him. By their actions, the three wisemen declare Jesus to be the King of All.

 

The Epiphany story continued last week with the baptism of Jesus by John the Baptist. John himself recognizes something different about Jesus. He is hesitant to baptize this one, whom he says is greater than he. But Jesus prevails, John baptizes, and the universe speaks: This is my son, the beloved. None other than God manifests Jesus as the one and only son of the living God.

 

Today’s Eiphany story begins with a couple moments of great clarity on the part of John the Baptist. He is still preaching and baptizing on the banks of the River Jordan. He has baptized Jesus, the baptism itself was remarkable, but as yet nothing remarkable has come of it.

 

Now John sees Jesus approaching and loudly declares him to be the savior of the world. Still, nothing happens—at least nothing that the New Testament authors thought worthy of recording.

 

But the very next day, Jesus walks by John again, and this time—when John cries out his striking testimony, Look, here is the Lamb of God, John’s two disciples go off and follow Jesus.

 

Thus begins this strange little conversation that issues a real challenge to us today. It begins with Jesus turning to these two sketchy guys who have just walked away from the even sketchier guy—dressed in camel’s hair and eating locusts and wild honey and preaching hellfire and brimstone along the bank of the river—a truly sketchy guy… Jesus turns to the two following him and says, What are you looking for?

 

Well, that’s not an entirely strange question, although I would have probably been way less polite! But Jesus seems open to a reasonable explanation of why they are suddenly following him. So he asks, What are you looking for?

 

Here’s where it gets kind of strange. They do not answer. It’s a simple question, but they do not answer. Rather, they ask a question in return. Where are you staying? Not “where do you live?” which is what makes sense to me, but Where are you staying?

 

So it seems to me, first, that there was something enigmatic and compelling about Jesus, something they couldn’t quite put their finger on. I suspect they didn’t answer Jesus’ question because they just weren’t sure what they were looking for, only that Jesus seemed to have something to offer—something so powerful that they turned on a dime, so to speak, from following John to following Jesus.

 

Second, it seems to me that they also somehow sensed that following Jesus was a whole new ballgame. Whatever it was that they desired and that they thought Jesus had to offer, it was going to be a whole new kind of adventure. Jesus was not going to take them “home” to meet his wife or mother, or to some established carpentry workshop where he would learn the trade, or to the family farm or sheep herd where they would settle down and live happily ever after.

 

Later on in the New Testament we hear Jesus say, The foxes have holes and the birds of the heaven have nests, but the Son of Man does not have a place where He may lay His head” (Matthew 8:20). So I have to wonder if somehow these, his first two followers, sensed that from the very beginning.

 

Where are you staying? they ask. And now Jesus says the strangest but most compelling thing of all: Come and see. Come and see, he says, and invites these two strangers into his life.

 

Surely it is the kindest, gentlest, most gracious invitation into having one’s life turned completely upside down and inside out the world has ever known! Because that’s what it was. Those two sketchy guys quickly become a third when Andrew runs off to get his brother, and those three sketchy guys hook up with Jesus, and the consequence today is us—a whole bunch of sketchy guys and gals—looking to be followers of Jesus!

 

Here’s the two ways this story challenges us today. First, what are we looking for from Jesus? We’re here, in this church. So it is fair to conclude that we’re here seeking Jesus. (If we aren’t, then maybe we’re in the wrong place!)

 

I can only speak for myself, but I’m certainly looking for Jesus as a source of help and comfort in dealing with the challenges and concerns of daily life on planet earth. I’m looking for assurance of my own salvation. I’m looking for a refuge from the storm, and the older I get, the more I’m looking for safe passage to a better place—not soon, but eventually. Am I alone in that? No!

 

 

But here’s what I also know: Andrew, and his brother Peter, and whoever the third sketchy guy was… they got all of that, and more. Whatever they were looking for, they got way more than they bargained for. Their lives were turned upside down and inside out. At some point, the going got so rough that every one of them ran away from Jesus, because the way of Jesus is also the way of the cross.

 

So when Jesus says, Come and see, and we go, we are not just going to a place of comfort and reassurance, to a world of “what Jesus can do for me.” We are going instead to a place that can be quite discomforting and challenging. We are going to be stretched by our encounters with others. As we learn to love what God loves, we are going to suffer the pain of the world.

 

And here’s the second way, Jesus’ invitation challenges us. As the body of Christ in the world today, we are the ones called now to issue the invitation, Come and see. We are to be the bearers of the Good News of the love of God for all people and all creation. We are to be the ones to heal the sick, welcome the stranger, and share with those who have less.

 

Come and see. Every Episcopal church I know and love and serve in some way, wishes for more members. Maybe we’re even kind of good at saying, “Come.” But what kind of keeps me awake at night is, what if they do? What if people do, in fact, come? What will they see? A handful of folks focused on their own comforts and future? Or a sketchy bunch of Jesus followers seeking to do what Jesus would do? Loving their neighbors—and all that implies—in his name? That, my friends, is the most challenging question of all.

 

  In the name of God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit. AMEN