SERMON NOTES

Come and See

There's a particular kind of excitement that comes with discovering a truly great restaurant. Not just good — good. The kind of place where the food, the atmosphere, and the service all come together in a way that makes you start planning your next visit before you've even asked for the bill. When you find a place like that, you don't need reminding to tell people about it. The recommendation comes naturally, enthusiastically, almost involuntarily.

Of course, not everyone responds the way you hope. Some go and come back with a shrug — "It wasn't really for us" — which feels, somehow, like a personal slight. Others have already decided before they arrive. You can see it on their face the moment you mention it. The area isn't quite right, the concept doesn't appeal, and nothing you say is going to shift their mind. They haven't been, but they've already concluded.

Here's what's interesting though: nobody has to remind you to talk about what you love. Nobody prompts grandparents to show photos of their grandchildren. Nobody has to encourage fans to discuss their team. Experience creates invitation naturally. When something genuinely changes your life, the instinct is to want someone else to experience it too.

That instinct is exactly where we find Philip in John 1.

Philip's Three Words

In John 1:43–46, Jesus finds Philip and calls him to follow. Philip's immediate response is to go and find his friend Nathanael. He doesn't launch a ministry or prepare a presentation. He simply shows up and says: "We have found the one Moses wrote about in the Law, and about whom the prophets also wrote — Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Joseph."

Nathanael's response is instant skepticism: "Nazareth! Can anything good come from there?" It's the ancient equivalent of every dismissive response people still give today. What's the point of church? Do people still do that? Why would I give up my Sunday morning? What difference could it possibly make?

And here is where Philip does something remarkably simple and remarkably effective. He doesn't take the bait. He doesn't defend Nazareth. He doesn't launch into a theological argument or try to dismantle Nathanael's objections one by one. He simply says, "Come and see."

Three words. No debate, no twelve-step programme, no carefully rehearsed case for the defence. Just an invitation to experience something for themselves.

This is perhaps the most straightforward model of evangelism in all of Scripture, and it carries a liberating truth: you are not called to convince, you are called to invite. Because there are some things explanation can never accomplish — only encounter can. You can describe honey or you can taste it. You can talk about the ocean or you can stand in it. You can explain Jesus or you can introduce someone to Him. Philip understood that one genuine encounter does what a thousand well-constructed arguments never could.

Many believers hold back from inviting people because they feel unqualified. They don't know enough Scripture. They worry about difficult questions they won't be able to answer. They fear rejection. But Jesus never commissioned His followers to have every answer. He said, "Follow me." He asked for witnesses, not lawyers. A witness doesn't argue the case — a witness simply says, "This is what I saw. This is what I experienced." That is something every believer can offer.

Curiosity Is Closer to Faith Than You Think

The story of Zacchaeus in Luke 19 adds another dimension to this picture. Zacchaeus wasn't looking for a sermon when he climbed that sycamore tree. He wasn't searching for community or ready to make a commitment. Luke 19:3 tells us simply that he wanted to see who Jesus was — nothing more than that. Curiosity. A distant, low-stakes interest in getting a look at the person everyone was talking about.

Curiosity doesn't scare Jesus. In fact, it is often the very first step toward something far greater. Long before Zacchaeus followed Jesus, he just wanted to see Him.

The crowd, of course, stood in the way — literally, because Zacchaeus was short, and figuratively, because the crowd had already written him off. To them, he was a tax collector, a collaborator, a thief. They saw a scandal. Jesus looked up into that tree and saw a son. He saw a story still being written. He saw not who Zacchaeus was, but who Zacchaeus could become — and He called him by name.

Jesus sees the person behind the problem. He always has.

There are people all around us who are exactly where Zacchaeus was — curious, searching, looking from a distance, hoping for something real but not yet sure how to find it. Some of them are being kept back not by indifference but by obstacles: the weight of church hurt, the sting of past disappointment, the way religion has let them down. They are up in the tree, trying to catch a glimpse, and they need someone to bring them close enough to Jesus for Him to do the rest.

The Invitation You Haven't Given Yet

If we're honest, most of us have been Nathanael at some point — skeptical, questioning, raising objections before we'd given anything a fair chance. And most of us have also been Zacchaeus — broken, hiding, watching from a safe distance, not quite ready to step into the crowd.

And someone kept saying, "Come and see."

Think about the empty seat next to you. Think about the person at work, the family member who keeps deflecting, the neighbour who seems closed but occasionally asks questions. Think about who has been quietly on your mind. There's a real possibility that they are one invitation away from an encounter that changes everything.

You are not responsible for people's responses — but you are responsible for the invitation. You cannot save anyone, and you cannot change anyone. But you can bring them close enough to Jesus for Him to do what only He can do. The same Jesus who stopped beneath Zacchaeus' tree is still stopping for people today. The same Jesus who transformed Nathanael's skepticism into faith is still in the business of transformation.

The greatest tragedy is not that people sometimes decline the invitation. The greatest tragedy is when the invitation is never given at all.

So this week, don't overthink it. Don't wait until you feel more prepared or more qualified or more certain of the outcome. Just find your one, and say the three simplest words in the believer's vocabulary: "Come and see."