Lectionary for Jan. 14, 2024
Second Sunday after Epiphany
1 Samuel 3:1-10 (11-20); Psalm 139:1-6, 13-18;
1 Corinthians 6:12-20; John 1:43-51
When God introduced the young, pretty David to Samuel as the future king of Israel, the prophet was initially much more impressed with his giant brothers. But God told Samuel not to consider appearance or height, because God looks at the heart while humans look at the outside (1 Samuel 16:7). Appearances can frequently be deceiving. The readings appointed for this week are twin stories of doubled accounts of mistaken perception. The takeaway is, in the words of a favorite Disney song, to “look at your life through heaven’s eyes.”
Early in the book of 1 Samuel, Hannah’s hoped-for son was consecrated to perpetual tabernacle service. However, as the introduction to this week’s reading portrays, Samuel didn’t yet know the Lord (3:7). It is possible to be a servant of the high priest, to work all day serving God and assisting with worship, and even to sleep in the holy place and not know God or recognize the divine voice. Young Samuel seemed to be like too many of the kids in our churches—surrounded by God-talk and worship activities but not yet caught up in the mysteries of a fiery relationship with God. Yet Samuel was exactly the one whom God would pursue, calling out to him repeatedly in the night. The initial appearance of Samuel as a boy who didn’t recognize God’s voice was misleading. Ultimately, the boy who didn’t recognize the voice of God would become the prophet who was recognized to speak God’s words (3:20).
Eli also had a deceptive appearance. As the high priest he was in charge of leading Israel—especially during a time of judges—and teaching the people in ways of righteousness and justice. Further, Eli oversaw tabernacle services and made sure the Israelites worshiped in Spirit and truth. Yet, under Eli’s nose, his sons and subordinate priests sexually assaulted the women who assembled at the entrance to the tabernacle (2:22). As if that weren’t bad enough, they also insisted on taking portions of God’s sacrifices and cooking God’s food in the way they preferred (2:12-17). If worshipers didn’t give them what they wanted—when they wanted it—Eli’s sons threatened force! Eli seemed like a righteous man, devoted to God and neighbor. But appearances were deceiving—the high priest didn’t stop the evil that his family and co-workers perpetrated.
The readings appointed for this week are twin stories of doubled accounts of mistaken perception.
The Gospel of John includes two more accounts of deceptive first appearances. Jesus spoke to a man named Philip, who responded instantly with great faith and followed Jesus. Philip was excited to tell his friend, Nathanael, about the Messiah. But Nathanael scoffed when he heard where Jesus, the son of Joseph, came from, asking, “Can anything good come from Nazareth?” I’m not sure what Nathanael’s problem was because Nazareth is a lovely town on a hill. But it probably wasn’t as prosperous as the little fishing town of Bethsaida (literally “House of the Nets”) or as relatively well-to-do as Cana. At any rate, appearances were deceiving: the savior of the world was from an unimpressive hamlet.
To me, the best news of deceptive appearance centers on church tradition around who Nathanael was. John’s Gospel names Nathanael here, whereas the synoptics speak of a disciple named Bartholomew. For this reason, most interpreters understand that they are the same person: Nathanael Bartholomew/bar Talmai or “Nathan the son of Ptolemy.” “Ptolemy” wasn’t a usual Jewish name but will remind careful readers of the Greek Ptolemies who ruled Egypt and the Holy Land before being driven off by the wicked Seleucids.
Was Nathanael the child of a mixed marriage between a Jew and a Greek in the Decapolis? It seems likely. Growing up between two cultures and two ethnic identities—especially when those cultures and identities had/have been in conflict for centuries—is incredibly difficult. Moreover, we know which of his identities Nathanael the son of Ptolemy was trying to cultivate. Philip confidently spoke to him of the law and the prophets—Nathanael knew his Scriptures and studied them. Indeed, later Jewish texts indicate “sitting under the fig tree”—where Jesus saw Nathanael—became sort of euphemism for studying Scriptures (BT. Eruvim 54a-b, Gen Rabbah 62:2, Num Rabbah 21:14-15; Eccl Rabbah 5:15).
It’s easy to imagine Nathanael as a kid growing up on the margins between two identities, not fully welcomed in either community. Nathanael bar Ptolemy cultivated a Jewish identity, perhaps without fully converting by circumcision (think of Timothy in Acts 16:1-3). He would hardly seem to be a candidate for being a “true Israelite, in whom there is no deception.” The church father Augustine even went so far as to exclude Nathanael from counting as a true disciple!
But Nathanael’s appearance was deceiving. Jesus saw the marginalized Nathanael studying Hebrew Scriptures under the fig tree and called him a “true Israelite.” This full, unqualified inclusion was almost certainly what Nathanael had been longing for his entire life. No wonder he converted so totally to believing that Jesus is the Son of God and King of Israel (John 1:49). Inclusion is powerful. To someone who has experienced marginalization their whole life, inclusion is a synonym for love.
This week’s readings repeat an important message. The uninformed child becomes a prophet. The high priest is the most wicked. The man with the unimpressive origin was the firstborn of all creation. The marginalized outsider is the true Israelite with no deceit. Appearances can be deceiving.
