“COME AND SEE

Scripture Lesson:  John 1: 43-51

Dr. Matthew S. Brown

January 15, 2006

 

Austin, Texas - There’s a tasty little Tex-Mex joint named Chuey’s that’s popular with the locals and I always like the restaurants that the locals love better than the cookie-cutter franchises that are often great in their own right, but sometimes lack the uniqueness or personality.  Chuey’s walls are covered with quirky Tex Mex artifacts and the food makes you feel that you’ve truly been to Texas, not to mention the plus that you can tell your friends you have eaten at the restaurant where the Bush girls were arrested a few years back.

 

New York City - On 49th Street about a block west of Rockefeller Center there’s an inexpensive little walk-in Italian restaurant no bigger than a Sunday school room where we had the best prosciutto pizza.  The pasta dishes looked good, too, but that pizza was a trip highlight.

 

Siesta Key, FL - Everybody who has spent any time on the gulf coast of Florida is familiar with the Columbia, a Cuban restaurant, whose original site is still operating in Ybor City, the home of Tony Larussa, no less.  What’s the famous salad there?  The 1905, or something like that?  You partake of that and half of a Cuban Sandwich and you can just skip supper, maybe breakfast the next day, too.  I may have been the youngest patron in the lunch time Siesta Key crowd, but I certainly enjoyed it.

 

St. Louis, Missouri - You can’t talk about St. Louis without the subject of the Hill coming up.  It is the Italian section of south St. Louis that is nationally known for the vast array of sumptuous Italian restaurants.  Pietro’s (where Joe Garagiola’s brother was the long time maitre - de) Del Pietros, Bartolino’s, Garavelli’s.  And if you’re in the area, our St. Louis folks will tell you it’s a mortal sin not to go to Ted Drews for frozen custard.

 

Neither, gourmet, gourmand, nor epicure are monikers ever attributed to me.  If you threw down a slab of liver mush before me and told me it was pate de fois gras, I’d be inclined to believe you.  I wouldn’t eat it, but I’d believe you.  If you ask if I ever munched on macaroni at the Knife and Fork I’d have to say yes.  If you inquire if I have ever supped at Nobles I’d have to sadly say I have not.  Yet, when I am introduced to someone and we begin the dance of prefatory small-talk (ie.  “Do you have any family?” “What do you do?”  “How ‘bout that weather?”  “Where are you from?”), quickly and inevitably from that point we are talking about restaurants, cafes, diners, dives, and drive-ins. 

 

“Have you ever been to...  “O ya, their famous...”  “You bet, I’d have ‘em mainline it in my veins if they would.”

 

It’s not that we’re obsessed with food, well not compulsively.  No, we are searching, surfing, mining for points of connection, ways in which our lives intersect, things we share in common.  It is the manner in which community, relationships, friendships are built.  It is also the manner in which we witness to what is good in life.

 

Have you ever noticed that when you have a splendid experience at a restaurant or see a movie you love, you just can’t help but want others to have that experience, too?

 

I remember years ago when I was “but a young preacher” I was invited to my home church to preach and after the service one of the respected elders of the church enthusiastically approached me.  For some curious reason he had actually connected with something I had said during the sermon and it sparked in

him the thought that I ought to see the epic motion picture Out of Africa. 

 

You could see in his eyes that this guy truly loved Out of Africa.  When I told him that, no, I hadn’t had the privilege of seeing the movie he was overcome with excitement.  You could see the sense of mission building within him, the light bulbs flashing above his invigorated mind.    “How can I make sure this neophyte preacher does not leave town without having witnessed this cinematic masterpiece?”

 

Well, I politely excused myself and returned to my parents house for lunch and as I was chewing the last delectable bites of my grilled cheese, there was a knock on the back door and, sure enough, it was this elder with the video of Out of Africa in hand.  I think he actually skipped lunch to go out and rent it for me.

 

He said, “You need to see this.  I know you’ll enjoy it.  You can just drop it off at the video store on your way out of town.”

 

The door closed and my parents started the parent routine (Yes, it’s the same thing I’d do to my children.)  “My, what a grand gesture.”  “What a kind offer.”  “Do you realize how respected he is in this community?”  “You really need to write him a thank you note.”

 

Man, I didn’t want to watch that movie.  I was on vacation.  Who wants to spend three hours watching Meryl Streep cry.  I had seen “Kramer vs. Kramer”, hadn’t I endured enough.  Out of Africa.  Marvelous movie, I am sure.  Epic.  Breathtaking in its grandeur.  The artistry of the critic’s favored actress wonderfully faked accents and fabricated tears.  It was not what I had in mind for the afternoon.

Yet, I will never forget the gesture of that gentle man.  Something, in this case a movie, had granted him a moving, enriching experience, sentiment overflowing to the point that he could not bottle it up even if he wanted to.  And he didn’t want to. 

 

Though we tend to be hoarders instead of givers, this was one of those experiences that compel you to share.  You so want others to find what you have found, to experience what you have experienced, to be given what you have been given.  Nothing would have given him more joy than if, after watching the movie, I had called him and said, “Wow, what a movie.  I am so glad you wouldn’t let me miss this.  Thank you for bringing me to this.”

 

It is in the wisdom of God that this is how faith would most effectively be shared, that more than anything this is how the community of faith would grow.  Christ reveals himself to one, who moved by that encounter rushes out to share it with another.

 

Jesus finds Philip, Philip experiences Jesus, and Philip just can’t wait to go and find Nathanael to invite him to share in the experience of the presence of God. 

 

Jesus “found Philip and said to him, ‘Follow me.’ ... Philip found Nathanael and said to him, ‘We have found him about whom Moses in the law and also the prophets wrote, Jesus son of Joseph from Nazareth.’  Nathanael said to him, ‘Can anything good come out of Nazareth?’  Philip said to him, ‘Come and see.’

 

Notice it is not browbeating, not fear-mongering - “Turn or burn!” 

 

Notice this not an act of pride - “We saved 352 souls today!”  We don’t save, that’s Christ’s job. 

Notice this is not trying to reach a quota so you can keep up with the church next door.  My word, when preachers get together they sound like that irritating kid in your childhood neighborhood.  “I’ve got more than you’ve got.”  I remember years ago serving this wonderful congregation up in the North Carolina foothills.  What a blessing those years were for us. 

 

Well, while there, I traveled to a Seminary class reunion, and as with many class reunions, it seemed to quickly sink into one of those “Hi, aren’t I doing better than you” encounters.  A classmate approached me, stirring his little cocktail, self-satisfied smile/smirk, and he asked the first question always asked at class reunions.  “So, where are you now?”

 

Hickory, NC.  Northminster church.”

“How many members do you have?”

“240 or thereabouts.”

And I kid you not.  He said,  I’m sorry.” 

??? 

 

It’s never about the numbers.  I was having the time of my life.  Wonderful church family.  Very similar in character and personality and witness with this congregation.  In fact, I’ve often thought of South Meck. as Northminster on steroids.  And I remember someone near and dear to me saying then and saying now, (and saying it certainly not because of the preacher.  She has to live with him.) “It’s a place that you want to invite people to be a part of.”

 

Aha!  And that is what is happening when Philip rushes to Nathanael.

Look at the text.  Faith sharing is not about fear tactics or pride or competition.  It is invitation springing forth from the joy of encountering Christ.  “Come and see.”

 

You know, if you’re an alumni of a fraternity that was just kicked off campus, or if you played on the team that just set the record for the most consecutive losses, or a member of a church that is embroiled in conflict or so impressed with itself that you can’t tell who they’ve come to worship, you probably wouldn’t be heavily motivated to go and invite someone to be a part of the group.  But when you are moved by your experience someplace, if you come to know what joy is somewhere, if that place quickens your spirit, inspires your faith, you just can’t help but want to share it.

 

“Have you ever been to South Meck.?  Not much of a preacher but, wow, coolest collection of folks you’ll ever find!  They are so welcoming, unassuming, gracious.  There is an excitement about what they sense God is doing there.  We’ve got the greatest choir, first rate fellowship events, and the woman who teaches that Disciple Bible study is a treasure.  I’ve learned so much and feel like I’ve grown.  You oughta come!”

 

“You mean that place with the quirky green roof?  Can anything good be going on there?”

“Come and see.”  That’s when you just know the Spirit is working, when the presence of the Lord is in this place.  Amen. 

 

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