You Will See Greater Things

Preaching Notes

Focus texts: 1 Samuel 3:1-10, (11-20), John 1:43-51

“The word of the Lord was rare in those days.” That seems like an odd beginning for a story set in the Temple of the Lord. Yet there it is. So, Samuel’s days were filled with the thousand little details that Eli could no longer perform to keep the rituals ready for the people of God, who were like sheep without a shepherd, because “the word of the Lord was rare in those days.”

That makes you wonder what people turned to when they didn’t have access to the voice of God, doesn’t it? What sorts of authority did people call on? What diversions did they obsess over? What voices did they listen to? To fill the empty nights and to cover up the loneliness of living, what sounds did they ache for?

Living a directionless life is draining and pointless. It messes with your sense of self-worth and empties you of ambition and hope. So, what are we left with these days, when “the word of the Lord is rare”? Are we just supposed to generate our own direction? Are we left to our own devices? Is it, indeed, all about us, after all?

Or do we listen deeper? Is there something to hear? We’ve convinced ourselves that what we see is what we get, or this is all there is, or ... whatever. But even though the word of the Lord is rare, even though those who are supposed to speak for us are going blind, the “lamp of God has not yet gone out.” We may have given up on God, but God has not given up on us.

The Voice still calls. It may be night in our souls, the darkness of doubt and fear and emptiness, but the voice still calls. That is what our faith tells us, when our ears are wearying of listening to the silence. But then, there isn’t any silence anymore, is there? That may be why we don’t hear, not because it is too quiet, but because it is too loud. It is loud in our world, with distractions aplenty, voices calling, blaming, warning, vying for our attention. It is loud in our souls, where we are filled with our questions and fears, our failures and inadequacies. It is so loud that we don’t hear the Voice anymore, the Voice that leads and comforts, the Voice that challenges and guides. We don’t hear it anymore because we’ve stopped listening. Or if we do hear it, but it sounds just like all the other voices around us. No wonder Samuel thought he was hearing Eli. No wonder we think it is the voice of a spouse or a friend, a book we read, or a song we heard. No wonder we thought it was indigestion or an impulse to do something crazy. We’ve forgotten how to listen for the voice.

When Eli finally, finally!, figures out what is going on, he begins to teach; he begins to mentor. Instead of using Samuel to do the grunt work, to clean now and ask questions later, he finally begins to introduce him to the source of the voice. He names that source “Lord.” Say, “Speak Lord,” says Eli, that’s what you say. That’s the beginning of putting yourself within hearing distance of the Voice. Then, having identified the source, put yourself in position, “your servant,” the one who follows, the one who obeys, the one who does. “Your servant is listening,” that’s what you say, explains Eli. You say, “I know who you are; I know who I am, and I want to hear what you have to say.  I want to be led; I want to be taught. I want to be claimed,” you say.

It isn’t easy. Samuel gets it wrong at first. “Speak, your servant is listening.” He misses the address, misses the identification. But that’s ok; that will come. Because it comes from a servant’s heart.’ Speak, Lord, your servant is listening.’

I suppose we should ask if Nathaniel is listening at all, let alone with a servant’s heart. His cynical response to Philip’s invitation seems to tell us everything we need to know about him. We can trot out the labels for him quite easily, put him in our categories of shame, and dismiss him as one of ‘those kinds of people.” Except Jesus does no such thing. So maybe we shouldn’t either.

Something happens here that is beyond explanation. We can guess, but we might be wrong. In this encounter, Nathaniel shows something we might not have expected —something we are loath to do these days. He changes his mind. Something about his encounter with Jesus causes him to decide that maybe something good can come from Nazareth--maybe something better than good. In this little exchange, we find Nathaniel moving from skepticism to respect, or even awe. And all Jesus says to him is that he sees he is a truth teller. How did he know that? How did he discern that Nathaniel wasn’t afraid to say what he thought, wasn’t willing to dissemble – to pretend something he wasn’t. How did Jesus know all that just from seeing him under a tree?

Maybe it was just Jesus being Jesus. What else can we say? Or maybe the word was, “I see you;  I’m aware of you. I know you.” And that was enough for Nathaniel to bow in respect to this man he had just met. Or maybe Jesus was giving him something to live up to, something to live into. An Israelite without guile is someone who lives openly and lives the truth. Maybe Nathaniel was trying to rise to the occasion or to the image that Jesus had of him.

By the way, the phrase “Son of God” was not necessarily a messianic confession. It was a term of respect, a way of addressing a religious leader who taught scripture and led the people into following God’s law. But then again, Nathanel probably was saying more than even he knew with that nomenclature.

That was exactly why Jesus then declares, " Hold on there, son, we’ve only just begun. You ain’t seen nothing yet!” I don’t know what the Aramaic for “ain’t” is, but I’m pretty sure Jesus knew it. Jesus wanted Nathaniel to know that he was signing up for the thrill ride of the century, that his eyes would be bugging out on a regular basis, if he was willing to pay attention.

That is what we should be offering everyone who comes along on this adventure called church. You’ll see greater things than this. This church thing, the baptism thing, the community thing. There is more; there is always more. Lives changed, hearts opened, relationships healed, hope resurrected--the list is endless. Angels ascending and descending will just be the opening act. Voices in the night calling your name just might be on the agenda. If you’re willing to pay attention, you’ll see greater things every day.