Come and See

Nathanael understood the Messiah was coming and was the Son of God. As soon as he understood Jesus was the Messiah, he then testified that Jesus was God’s Son—his Son who had the right and authority to rule over all nations. When Philip introduced Jesus to Nathanael, he called him “the son of Joseph” (v. 45). Nathanael’s eventual response was that Jesus’s father was not a Jewish carpenter; his Father was the God of the universe (v. 49). How did Nathanael arrive at the conclusion this unknown carpenter was the Son of God?

Nathanael’s first response to hearing about Jesus (v. 46) is not positive. He says, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” Nowhere in the Old Testament does it say the Messiah would be from Nazareth. In fact, Nazareth is never mentioned in the OT. We now understand Jesus wasn’t born in Nazareth but in Bethlehem, which was identified by the prophets as the place of the Messiah’s birth. However, Nathanael only knew where Jesus grew up.

In response to his doubt, Philip brings him to Jesus. When Nathanael meets Jesus, his heart is instantly exposed. Jesus looks into him and says, “Here truly is an Israelite in whom there is no deceit.”

Jesus was right, but Nathanael, still not ready to believe, challenges him: “How do you know me?”

“When you were under the fig tree, I saw you,” Jesus responds. Jesus’s omniscience strikes Nathanael powerfully. When Jesus revealed something to Nathanael there was no way he could have known—about Nathanael under the fig tree—then Nathanael knew Jesus could see into his soul. Jesus saw both the outside and the inside of Nathanael. Even when we’re not aware of it, Jesus sees us. Even when we don’t see God, he is there, fully aware of all that’s happening. He knows not only what’s happening on the outside, but he also sees your heart.

It’s difficult to reject Nathanael’s endorsement of Jesus since his first response is disbelief. Nathanael wasn’t looking to get caught up in something. He knew the Scriptures, and they said nothing of Nazareth. But when Jesus confronted him and looked directly into his heart, Nathanael could do nothing less than exclaim, “You are the Son of God; you are the King of Israel!” The Gospel of John is bracketed by accounts of unbelief melting into belief: Nathanael, here in chapter 1, and Thomas, in chapter 20. Both men were inclined to disbelieve, but an encounter with Jesus won their faith.

This account ends with a fascinating statement. Jesus said to Nathanael, “You will see greater things than this. . . . Truly I tell you, you will see heaven opened and the angels of God ascending and descending on the Son of Man” (vv. 50-51). Jesus was preparing Nathanael for what was coming down the road, but he was preparing more than just Nathanael. In verse 51 when he says, “You will see,” that’s plural. You all will see. What will they see? In Genesis 28 Jacob falls asleep and has a dream. In this dream he sees a ladder that extends from heaven to earth. Angels are using this ladder to move between the two. Above the ladder stood the Lord God. Jesus is the ladder to God. He is the only way into God’s presence. He promises Nathanael he will recognize that Jesus alone can bring a person into God’s presence.

We’ve seen Jesus called the son of Joseph and the Son of God. This passage ends with Jesus claiming one more title—the Son of Man. Jesus is taking this title from Daniel 7:13, a passage that clearly speaks of the Messiah. He’s confirming to these disciples they’re correct. Their endorsements are true. He is the one promised and sent by God.

The first words of Jesus in the Gospel of John are found in verse 38: “What are you looking for?” This is the question that confronts each of us. What are you looking for? What are you seeking in life?

Jesus asks us the same question: What are you looking for? Acceptance? Position? Influence? Excitement? Escape? Love? Security? Experience? Approval? After the question comes the invitation. John points to Jesus and tells his disciples, “Look” (v. 36). Jesus says to these same disciples, “Come and you’ll see” (v. 39). Philip invited his friend to come to Christ with the words, “Come and see” (v. 46). Jesus made a promise to his disciples: “You will see” (v. 50). Jesus invites us to come and see what we really need. We all seek something. Jesus invites us to come and to discover in him all we’ll ever need. Only Jesus Christ can fill the emptiness inside us. These endorsements of Jesus hold important lessons on what it means to be a Christian.

Five times in this passage we read the word found. In verse 41 Andrew found his brother and said to him, “We have found the Messiah.” In verse 43 Jesus found Philip. In verse 45 Philip found Nathanael and said to him, “We have found [him].” This raises an interesting question: Who really finds whom? As the great church father Augustine wrote, “We could not even have begun to seek for God unless He already found us” (quoted in Barclay, Gospel of John, 101). We’ll see this truth in greater detail later in the Gospel when Jesus says to his disciples, “You did not choose me, but I chose you” (15:16). What did Jesus choose them to do? He chose them to follow him. Three times in this passage we see the word follow (vv. 37, 38, 40), plus “Follow me” is the simple command Jesus gave Philip (v. 43). One mark of a true disciple is following Jesus.

When Jesus meets Simon (v. 42), he changes his name to Peter. He gives him a new name—a divinely appointed nickname. Nicknames are usually based on a past event or some defining characteristic. A sportswriter in Michigan watched a high school basketball player do spectacular things with a basketball, and the world was introduced to “Magic” Johnson. Mary I, Queen of England, became “Bloody Mary” by burning more than three hundred religious dissenters at the stake. But when God changes a name, it’s often a prophetic nickname. It’s a way for him to declare his intent for this person. Abram’s name was changed to Abraham because he would be the father of many nations (Gen 17:5). Jesus is declaring his intention to transform Simon into Peter—literally, into “the rock.” Peter is nothing like a rock. He’s emotionally unstable. He’s impulsive. His moods travel by way of roller coaster. Yet Jesus lets Simon know he “will be” (future tense) transformed into a rock. And it happens! We don’t turn to the book of 1 Simon, do we? We turn to the book of 1 Peter, and there we read the words of a man whose life has been completely transformed. This is what Jesus does to every true disciple. In the words of D. A. Carson, Jesus “so calls them that he makes them what he calls them to be” (John, 156).

Though Jesus was the one who chose these men, he used his disciples to testify about him—to call others to him. Andrew’s first response (v. 41) was to go tell his brother about Jesus. In fact, Andrew is only mentioned three times in this Gospel (6:8; 12:22), and each time he’s bringing someone to Jesus. Philip’s first response (v. 45), like Andrew’s, is to immediately go find a friend to bring to Jesus.

One summer I was trained as a lifeguard. In our training we spent a significant amount of time learning first aid and CPR. We knew there was a strong possibility that at some point in the summer we would scan the water and see a person frantically trying to swim. We were prepared to leap from a seat, dive in the water, swim to him, bring him back to shore, and begin medical treatment immediately. As a lifeguard, when you saw a person begin to struggle, you didn’t sit there in your chair and wonder if he would make fun of your swimming stroke or if he’d reject your attempt to save him. No, you saw his helpless condition, and you did something immediately. All around us are men and women drowning in their own sin. They are frantically waving, hoping for someone to notice them and help them. How often do we sit in our shaded chairs and refuse to help them because we’re concerned about what they might say or how they might respond? People are dying. Will we get out of our chairs and help them? Andrew did. Philip did. And they started with those closest to them—a brother and a close friend.