St. Bartholomew, Apostle
John 1:43-51; I Corinthians 12:27-31a; Exodus
19:1-6
Back in the 70’s the artist Andy Warhol reflecting on the emerging media-centered culture observed that in the future everyone would have their fifteen minutes of fame. Such fame has come to be identified for most of us with fleeting moments of our names being mentioned in the published or transmitted media. The simple truth of this prediction has become in a sense easier thanks to 24 hour media systems of cable and television, various local news publications, along with the internet access and digital cameras, cell phones and web cams. The risk of such rapidly produced “fame” or name referencing is that errors are inevitable. Just a week or so back one of our neighborhood papers carried a feature on the burning issue of storage sheds in Lincolnshire and in the process quoted the mother of one of my son’s girlfriends. The story was actually a rather straightforward piece with rather good balance. To be quoted in such an article is no big deal—hardly the stuff of great historic significance—but it carries with it that glimmering hope or fear that this may be your 15 minutes of fame and you want it to be your truest and best. As it turned out, the article identified the girlfriend’s mother as the mother of two children but we all know that girl friend Kelly has a brother and a sister. One of the three children in the family had been journalistically erased—only two children were noted. Now this is no big deal unless you consider yourself to be the missing child—the forgotten nobody. Childhood is filled with enough moments of doubt and insecurity. If you were the missing child you might even wonder if the reporter might have gotten it right after all and this was a not so subtle hint from your mother about your place or lack there of within the family. It would not be easy to be the one denied even this fleeting footnote to possible fame. I find myself wondering if such an editorial slip might not also explain the curious nature of the festival of St. Bartholomew which is observed today as a lesser festival of the church.
As we have noted before in sermons about lesser festivals, the historic Christian church, of which we Lutherans are a part, has designated a number of dates for the remembrance of events significant in the life of Jesus or figures significant to the development of the early Christian church. When these dates fall on a Sunday especially during the green or Pentecost season of the church year, the church usually recognizes that lesser festival as a break from the routine of the “green” Sundays. Hence, today we are observing a “red” Sunday—a color usually associated with an event in the life of the church. When August 24 falls on a Sunday we celebrate the Festival of St. Bartholomew as the focus of our Sunday worship. We also turn then to the scriptures to find a story recorded there about the disciple remembered—in this case Bartholomew. We find as our reading today’s Gospel text that strangely never mentions anyone named Bartholomew. Instead the Gospel of John focuses on the call of the disciple Nathanael. As the back of our bulletin explains—this is believed by most scholars to be a reference to the same person. Since the name Bartholomew actually begins with the Hebrew prefix “bar” which means “son of” it is generally agreed that the name Bartholomew was what we would call today the family or last name and Nathanael is believed by scholars to be a first or surname. The first three gospels—Matthew, Mark, and Luke all list the 12 disciples with the name Bartholomew with no mention of Nathanael—and each mention of the name in the disciple list is in a name sequence linked with the disciple Philip. The Gospel of John never mentions Bartholomew but contains the wonderful story of our lesson for today that closely associates Nathanael with the disciple Philip. Either we have a misplaced 13th disciple or Nathanael and Bartholomew are one and the same.
Early in history the Christian church decided that there would be only 12 identified disciples. August 24 is the feast of St. Bartholomew—there is no date assigned anywhere in the history of the church for a feast of St. Nathanael apart from St. Bartholomew. Likewise you find relatively few if any churches, especially in this country, named St. Nathanael while the St. Bart references are many and varied. What is truly amazing is that with all this quest for identity for Bartholomew—the only published story is about Nathanael. I suppose the names by which we know someone are not all that important compared to the story their lives tell. The 15 minutes of fame that is recorded or retold should get the name right but that is not always easy. I have a pastor friend who I knew as Len—short for Leonard—and I thought I knew him pretty well until about three years after we met when I tried to find his name on a clergy roster and I discovered that his first name was actually Frederick. It turns out that he never liked his first name so he always used his middle name. I grew up with an uncle we always called Uncle Bud—who was actually named Luverne and another uncle I knew as Tom was actually named Reuel—and Bartholomew was known to his friends and introduced to Jesus as Nathanael. It is interesting that the most significant story the scriptures could preserve of the life of Nathanael was his first meeting with Jesus. Actually, I guess that is not so surprising. With most couples who come to me for premarital counseling I find that an interesting introduction for me to them is to ask them to recount the story of how they first met. What is especially interesting is to have one tell this story and then to have the other retell the same story from their perspective.
This past week and the next couple weeks will be filled with the possibility of stories of first meetings—freshman entering high school or starting college—students starting new classes with new teachers and classmates. Philip comes to Nathanael with the announcement that he has met someone really special—Philip invites Nathanael to come and meet him—Nathanael is a bit skeptical. This story about Nathanael in our Gospel lesson is the story of Jesus first meeting and calling disciples to follow him. The story begins with Jesus calling Philip. Now to anyone who has ever served on the church council nominating committee or worked as Sunday school superintendent this story sounds like one of the greatest pieces of fiction ever written. Jesus comes up to Philip and says, “Follow me” and Philip immediately follows—not only follows but finds his friend Nathanael and invites him to follow too. It takes a lot of telephone calls to get a complete slate for the church council—it takes even more to staff a Sunday school—it is a rare telephone call that receives an immediate positive response—even more rare results in someone else being invited to come along. Yet Philip followed and then went to invite Nathanael—at this point the story actually becomes more realistic. Nathanael’s response is not to immediately follow but to ask, “Why?” Why follow someone from a backwater town like Nazareth when there are brilliant philosophers from Greece—Religious leaders from Jerusalem—Great military and social leaders from Rome—Why follow someone from a place not even big enough to be considered a suburb. But Philip persists and Nathanael yields to his friend—What happens next is one of those curious exchanges where I think you had to be there to really appreciate what takes place—Jesus greets Nathanael by acknowledging him as a good man of the true faith of Israel—Nathanael is put off by this greeting that appears to him to be overly solicitous and Nathanael responds by saying basically, “What do you know about me?” Which is when Jesus reveals his hand—declaring that he knows Nathanael inside out—including where he was before Philip came to him. Some have understood this as some kind of magical act of mind reading or great omniscience—but what it really appears to be is an honest encounter by Nathanael with himself. Jesus reveals to Nathanael nothing so much miraculous as it is honest.
This is the stuff of the emperor’s new clothes—seeing as God sees—the call to faith that says again and again—“Why not?” Fame is fleeting—Yet the trivial moments of our memories are what make us unique—special in some way. The things that we remember are in different combinations then those of any other memory—the way we met our best friend—spouse—yes, even Jesus—and the way we remember it—is defining of who we are and how we live out those relationships. To meet Jesus in an elementary Sunday school class is quite different from meeting Jesus in the midst of an in-depth Bible study. So to, to be challenged to follow by faith in a wilderness Bible camp setting or during an emotion filled teenage leadership event is quite different from wondering if you can recognize the master miracle worker in the midst of a health crisis or at the moment of the death of a loved one. Discipleship is not an easy calling these days—following Jesus is not easy. We live in a culture and society that encourages us to be more passive about asserting our faith. There is a danger that we mistake tolerance and respect for other cultures, faiths and societies with an assumption that it really doesn’t matter what we believe or how we live our lives as along as we do the best we can and harm the fewest people along the way.
What scripture teaches is that all truths are not equal. When Jesus told Nathanael that he had seen where he stood under the fig tree even before Philip invited him to meet Jesus the truth Nathanael heard and experienced was the certainty that this Rabbi—this teacher of the faith—was a truth beyond words or history. In this meeting Nathanael knew that this was God’s Son—this is a gift of discernment—the stuff that Pastor Chris spoke of last week as a key piece of wisdom—this is a gift identified by Paul in our second lesson as he writes the church at Corinth. Each of us meet Jesus in our own unique way—not just through the Holy Spirit’s birthing touch of baptism—We meet Jesus—the Word incarnate—the one who takes on human form and is revealed to us in the bread and wine—the body and blood—that becomes a part of us—part of our lives. Following is not easy—our walk as disciples requires the nurture of worship—the support of the community of faith—we cannot go it alone—especially when we have our doubts and struggles. The disciple Nathanael had his doubts—as we all do. After Jesus is crucified Nathanael was among the disciples who tried to return to their pre-Jesus lives. He joined Peter, James and John on a fishing expedition on the Sea of Tiberius only to be met their by the resurrected Christ who called them once again to follow him—to accept their calling to something more—to discipleship. In the community of the other disciples Nathanael renewed his faith and the tradition of the church has Bartholomew carrying the Christian faith to India, Persia, Egypt and to the shores of the Black Sea. To those who lived in these unknown corners of the world Nathanael is remembered to this day as the saint who brought them the faith by which they live.
There are people who spend their whole lives hoping to have their 15 minutes of fame. More significant then fifteen minutes of fame however is to be known to God—to know the gift that God has given each of us in particular—the gift that makes us special in this moment to the kingdom of God in this place. Paul lists some of these gifts that guided the early disciples and church in our second lesson for today—gifts of going out with the Gospel—inviting others to follow—apostles they were called—there are also gifts of teaching—gifts of power (found so boldly in prayer)—gifts of healing—of assisting others—of leading—and of generating the ecstatic proofs of the Spirit’s presence in our lives. On this St. Bartholomew day we celebrate the brief moment of fame offered a disciple of the faith—Nathanael Bartholomew—a name known but briefly—remembered by few—but faithful in witness to the gifts God had given him—even as we now are faithful to our gifts.
Listen to the invitation to meet Jesus—maybe
for the first time—or maybe for the 3,000th—knowing that he says to
us as he said to Nathanael—“I saw you—but you will see greater
things.” It doesn’t matter if we remember a saint this day—what
matters is that God remembers us—remembers us enough to give us His gifts—remembers
us enough to give us His Word—remembers us enough to give us His very body
and blood—a sign that we are not forgotten throughout the centuries of
doubts and faith. Come meet Jesus—again or for the first time. Come meet
one who saw you long before you knew him.
Amen.