Come and See

In the opening chapter of John’s Gospel, there is a brief encounter that many readers skim past. A man named Nathanael meets Jesus for the first time. There are no miracles, no thunder, no parted seas. Just a simple statement from Jesus:

“I saw you while you were still under the fig tree before Philip called you.” (John 1:48)

And that one sentence shatters Nathanael’s defenses.

He goes from skepticism—“Nazareth? Can anything good come from there?”—
to confession—“Rabbi, you are the Son of God; you are the king of Israel.”

What happened in that moment?

Nathanael realized something that changes everything:
He was seen. Deeply. Specifically. Personally.

And that same invitation stands before us today.

1. Faith Begins With an Invitation: “Come and See”

When Philip first tells Nathanael about Jesus, Nathanael responds with sarcasm and doubt. He has questions. He has assumptions. He likely has disappointments with religion and unmet expectations about God.

Philip does not argue.
He does not debate Nazareth’s reputation.
He does not pull out a scroll and begin an apologetics lecture.

He simply says:

“Come and see.” (John 1:46)

This is the pattern of Scripture.
In the Psalms: “Taste and see that the Lord is good.”
In Jesus’ ministry: Follow Me, abide in Me, walk with Me.

God does not invite us into a theory but into an encounter.

You can grow up in church and never actually “come and see.”
You can learn Bible facts and never taste the goodness of the One they point to.
You can know verses about love and never experience the love those verses describe.

Faith does not begin when every question is answered.
Faith begins when we risk coming closer.

2. How God Sees You Shapes Who You Become

When Jesus sees Nathanael, He says:

“Here truly is an Israelite in whom there is no deceit.” (John 1:47)

This is more than a compliment. It is a revelation.

In the Old Testament, Israel’s original name was Jacob—“the deceiver.” Jacob was known for manipulation, schemes, and pretending. After wrestling with God, Jacob receives a new name: Israel—“one who wrestles with God.”

Jesus is telling Nathanael:

You are not a pretender.
You are not playing religious games.
You wrestle honestly. You are a true son of Israel.

Jesus sees not just Nathanael’s words but his heart posture.

This is a profound truth for us:

The way you believe God sees you will shape who you become.

If you believe God mainly sees you as a disappointment, you will move through life with shame and distance.
If you believe God is indifferent, you will live as if nothing spiritual matters.
If you believe God loves you vaguely but not specifically, His love will remain abstract—beautiful, but distant.

Transformation is deeply tied to perception.
We slowly become what we believe God believes about us.

The good news of this passage is that Jesus sees more than our flaws and failures. He sees the honest desire beneath the doubt. He sees the wrestling beneath the cynicism. He sees the real person beneath the layers of defense.

3. Honesty: The Prerequisite for Encounter

Nathanael does not pretend.

He does not say, “Nazareth? What a blessed town!”
He says what he actually thinks: “Can anything good come from there?”

And Jesus honors him for it.

We often assume that spiritual maturity looks like polished words, quiet doubts, and controlled emotions. But in Scripture, the people who encounter God deeply are usually the ones who are brutally honest: the psalmists, Jeremiah, Job, even Jesus in Gethsemane.

God can heal pain, anger, disappointment, and confusion.
He cannot heal pretending.

As long as we pray from behind a mask, the love of God lands on the mask, not the real self.

Many Christians carry a quiet callus in their hearts—formed by unanswered prayers, spiritual disappointments, or religious hypocrisy. Instead of bringing that callus to God, we sidestep it. We say polite things about His goodness while slowly withdrawing trust.

Honesty is not spiritual rebellion.
Honesty is spiritual reality.

To stand before God and say,
“I am disappointed,”
“I feel unseen,”
“I am afraid to hope again,”
is not to reject Him—it is to invite Him into the truth.

4. The Fig Tree: Where God Meets Us in Our Hidden Places

Jesus’ comment about the fig tree is the turning point:

“I saw you under the fig tree…”

To us, that sounds like a random detail. To Nathanael, it means everything.

In Jewish tradition, the fig tree was associated with meditation on Scripture, personal prayer, and quiet devotion. It was a place where people went to wrestle with God in private.

Scripture does not tell us exactly what Nathanael was praying or feeling there. But his reaction tells us it was deeply personal.

Maybe he was dealing with failure or disappointment.
Maybe his hopes for his future had collapsed.
Maybe he was questioning whether God still cared or listened.
Maybe he felt like his life had been pushed to the side while others moved forward.

Whatever happened under that fig tree, Nathanael believed it was hidden.

Until Jesus says, in essence:

I was there.
I saw the tears no one saw.
I heard the questions no one heard.
I understood the pain you could not put into words.

And this is what breaks him open.

We are not transformed by general statements about God’s love.
We are transformed when His love meets us in a specific wound.

Not just “God loves people,” but “God was there at that moment.”
Not just “God sees humanity,” but “God saw you in that private place.”

5. When Being Seen Leads to Real Faith

Jesus tells Nathanael,

“You believe because I told you I saw you under the fig tree. You will see greater things than that.” (John 1:50)

In other words:
This is just the beginning.

Faith does not start when we finally get a clear view of God.
Faith starts when we realize God already had a clear view of us—and did not turn away.

Nathanael’s story shows that:

• Faith is not primarily intellectual agreement. It is relational trust.

• Trust grows when we realize we are fully seen and yet fully loved.

• Real discipleship begins not with our effort to see God clearly, but with the revelation that He has already seen us clearly.

A Final Invitation

If Jesus stood before you today, He might not begin with an argument or a command.
He might say something much simpler:

“I saw you.”

I saw you in that hospital room.
I saw you when you felt rejected.
I saw you when you were questioning your worth.
I saw you when you felt spiritually numb.
I saw you when you thought you were alone.

The question is not whether God sees you.
The question is whether you will let His gaze become real to you.

So here is an invitation:

• Remember your own “fig tree” moments—those hidden places of pain, disappointment, or wrestling.

• Bring them to God honestly. No polished language. No spiritual performance.

• Ask Him to show you where He was, what He saw, and how He felt about you in those moments.

You do not have to manufacture more faith.
You do not have to force yourself to love God more.

You simply need to stand, as Nathanael did, in the presence of Jesus who says:

“I saw you.”

Somewhere in that realization—
in that sacred intersection between your hidden story and His attentive love—
is the beginning of true transformation.