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Our text today from the Gospel of John deals primarily with the character of Nathanael. But Nathanael himself is a rarity, an odd bird—for his name appears no where in the gospels of Mark, Matthew, or Luke, nor does he find his way onto the lengthy list of apostles. No—Nathanael appears only in this first chapter of John and in the final chapter of John’s text where it is written that Jesus showed himself to “Simon Peter, Thomas called the Twin, Nathanael of Cana in Galilee, and two other disciples.” And so we discover that Nathanael was a resident of the town of Cana—an important point if we are to understand his somewhat nay-sayish comment about Jesus coming from Nazareth! “Nazareth!”, Nathanael proclaims to Philip, “How can anything good come from there?” But first we need some important historical and geographic information if we are to understand Nathanael’s blatant negativity . . . The village of Cana—Nathanael’s hometown, was located on a beautiful hill that gradually sloped toward the west. Homes were built in terraces up the slope so as to receive the cool west wind which blew in from the Mediterranean. South of the village was a copious spring which yielded an abundant supply of clear, fresh drinking water—and thus Cana was a resting-place, a refreshing place, for Hebrew herdsmen and other travelers. It was also located on an imperial road used by the Romans—and thus Cana was flush with residents who secured their livelihood through trade with military soldiers. It is estimated that approximately 400 families lived in Cana in Jesus’ day. And thus, in the context of occupied Galilee, it was a good place to live and it was a good place to be from. But Nazareth—Nazareth was a different story. Nazareth lay just 4 miles to the south of Cana—but it was not on a major trade route, nor did it have any specific export. In fact, Nazareth was nothing more than a tiny bump on the road—a place deemed of little significance. It consisted of approximately 35 families and they shared a single-family farm while subsisting only on rain water. Unlike the neatly terraced hillsides of Cana, Nazareth was seen as wild and uncouth, rough and primitive. But the most damning thing about Nazareth was this! The religious authorities in Jerusalem claimed that the people of Nazareth were lax in following the Law. Their devotions were deemed as circumspect and their religious practices were labeled as heretical. And thus Nazareth—unlike Cana—was viewed by many as a horrific place to live and a horrid place to be from! So with that history in mind do you now see why Nathanael—of Cana--was such a nay-sayer about Jesus—of Nazareth? How could the one Moses wrote about in the Law come from a place that the religious authorities of the day had deemed as law-less? How could the one whom the prophets wrote about be associated with such a heretical, off the road, of little significance enclave? How could the Messiah of the people come from such a messy and mis-guided place? Is it any wonder that Nathanael cries out to Philip, “Nazareth? How can anything good come from there?” I am always amazed when lectionary texts clearly intersect our lives as a community in the here and in the now! For I must tell you that I sometimes feel that we, here at First Pres., are residents not of Cana but of Nazareth—deemed by the religious authorities of our own day as a messy and miss-guided community. Many would say that we are a law-less people in the midst of law-abiding Presbyterians, heretical in our beliefs and unorthodox in our practices. How can God be truly worshipped, many of my colleagues in ministry have asked, in the midst of a community where there are no boundaries or biases for membership, and where the communion table is open to all? How can God be truly worshipped in a church that finds more grace in the search for understanding than it does in dogmatic certainty—more value in questions than it does in absolutes? How can God be truly worshipped in a church that welcomes all into its midst—women and men, young and old, conventional Christians and questioning skeptics, those of all sexual orientations and gender identities, those of all classes and abilities, those who strive for a better world and those who are willing to challenge the powers-that-be and the powers that have for too long been? How can God be truly worshipped in a place where God’s Word is not deemed as literal, where the conscience is not bound by law but freed by grace, and where essential tenets of the faith are not deemed as that essential to a life of discipleship? . . . “First Presbyterian Church of Palo Alto! How can anything good come from there?” the Nathanaels of our own day cry out all around us! But listen well to what Philip says in response to Nathanael’s dismissive statement—for it is the same response, the same invitation that must be issued to the Nathanael’s of our own day who would write us off as a community of faith. “Come and see!” Philip requests of the nay-saying Nathanael, “Come and see—that your current perspective might be transformed!” How I wish that those who would dismiss and demean this community of faith would come and see—would truly come and see this blessed place where it doesn’t matter if you are gay or straight, bi-sexual or transgendered—for you are still welcomed—open-armed—into Christ’s community! How I wish that those who would tag us as fanatics and heretics would come and see—come and see children, and young adults, and the elderly honestly grappling with the gray areas of faith—what it means to really live justly, and equitably, and peacefully as followers of the one who fully embodied God’s abundant love and abiding grace. How I wish that those who would call us un-Presbyterian would come and see—would truly come and see how Presbyterian we really are—for as the Book of Order so clearly states, we uphold the Presbyterian belief that “God alone is the Lord of the conscience—and has left it free from the doctrines and commandments of people”; we uphold the Presbyterian belief that the “Church is called to a new openness by affirming itself as a community of diversity—becoming in fact as well as in faith a community of women and men of all ages, races, and conditions—while providing for inclusiveness AS A VISIBLE SIGN OF THE NEW HUMANITY!”; and we uphold the Presbyterian belief that “the biblical vision of doing justice calls us to deal honestly in personal and public business, calls us to exercise power for the common good, calls us to support people who seek the dignity, freedom, and respect they have been denied, calls us to work for fair laws and just administration of the law, calls us to welcome the stranger in the land, calls us to overcome the disparity between rich and poor, calls us to bear witness against political oppression and exploitation, and calls us to redress wrongs against individuals, groups, and peoples in the church, in this nation, and in the whole world” And to the Nathaniels of our Presbytery and the larger Chruch who refuse to come and see all this, who choose to look away from us with loathing—I say this: Jesus’ ministry and message wasn’t formed in Cana, it was formed in Nazareth—a place deemed as unorthodox by the religious elite of the day. Jesus’ ministry and message wasn’t shaped in Cana, it was shaped in Nazareth—a place labeled as heretical by those who held so stringently to the Law! Can anything good come out of Nazareth? Can anything good come from feeding the hungry, or comforting the grieving, or caring for the sick, or visiting the prisoners, or freeing the captives, or sheltering the homeless, or befriending the lonely? Here at the First Presbyterian Church of Palo Alto I stake my very life and ministry on the belief that it can and does! And no matter how sharp the critiques and condemnations of the Nathanaels of our day may be, I hope you will continue to follow on the way of Jesus of Nazareth without fear or hesitation! Thanks be to God! AMEN
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