The Message, January 14, 2024: "Known By God," Psalm 139:1-6, 13-18; John 1:43-51

Author: Rev. Scott W. Cousineau
January 15, 2024

 

“Known By God”
A Message by Rev. Scott W. Cousineau
Psalm 139:1-6, 13-18; John 1:43-51

            I grew up at a time when the television series Star Trek was very popular, and it just happened to be one of my favorite programs. Of course, my youth also coincided with the launch of the Star Trek movie franchise. So, as you might have guessed, there was a certain line of dialogue from the series that I heard A LOT.

            What is it? Go ahead …. everyone … all together now … “Beam me up, Scotty!”

            I still have people say it to me from time to time. And what is amazing to me is that every time someone says that line to me, they seem to believe that it is the first time I have ever heard it. Naturally, because I am a good and caring pastor, I respond accordingly. I laugh and smile. “Ha! Good one!”

            Now, you may not have been blessed with the name Scott, as I am. But I am fairly certain that some … if not most of you … have experienced some sort of name play associated with your name.

            And, even if you have not had that experience, my guess is that you are familiar with that old chestnut … a saying that has been offered in sitcoms, movies, and family conversations for decades: “I don’t care what you call me, just don’t call me …”

            What is it? That’s right … “Don’t call me ‘late for dinner.’”

            In the past, I have shared that over the years and throughout my ministry, certain people have had trouble remembering my name.

            My beloved Great Aunt Helen, who I called ‘Teetee’ as I was learning to talk, was one of those folks who would go through the whole roster of family names before she arrived at mine. Sometimes she would even throw in the name of a dog or two. “Ed … Eric … Smuggler … Scott!” Of course, she was sweet, and we loved Teetee dearly, so we loved when she called us the wrong name.

            When my ministry began, I was frequently referred to as “Scott … Jan’s Son.” “Oh, you’re Scott … Jan’s son!” I started telling people jokingly that my last name was “Janson.”

            At least they got my first name right.

            I have told you before that in a couple of my previous churches I was often called either Chris or Steve. And on that particular day, many of you did call me “Steve” or “Chris” as you exited worship.

            It is all good fun … and I will pretty much respond to any name … except … “Late for Dinner.” (Obviously, that is not really an issue for me.)

            Many years ago, probably when I was still in the “Scott Jan’s Son” phase of my ministry, I was on the leadership team for a national youth gathering in Estes Park, Colorado. The theme for the gathering was, “God Calls Us By Name.” The curriculum had the youth explore naming. Their get-to-know-you exercises involved sharing their names with the group, as well as what their names meant, or why they were given their names. As the week went on, we explored what it means to be called by name, and even more importantly … what it means to be called by name by God.

            In the past we have talked about the importance of naming. Some of you may have been given names that have meaning within your family, perhaps a family name that has been passed down through the generations. In the Hebrew culture, one’s name carried their essence or their spirit. We read a lot of genealogies in scripture. Naming identifies them and is part of their heritage.

            Years ago, when I travelled to Israel on a study tour, we had an interaction with a group of school children that is a precious memory for me. We were walking on a trail at the River Dan and the school group was coming down in the opposite direction. As they passed, each child stopped and asked every one of us, “What is your name?” And then after we answered they said, “I will remember you.”

            I do not know if any of them actually remember me, but I remember them. To this day, I cherish the memory. I also feel embarrassed and a little shamed that I did not ask any of them for their names.

            That interaction with those school children reinforced the importance of naming. “I will remember you,” says to the listener, “you matter. You are known.”

            Our Gospel lesson this morning also makes that same point.

            This is John’s telling of the Call of the Disciples. As you likely heard, John’s version is a little different than the other three gospels. John includes the interesting interaction between Philip and Nathanael.

            After Philip met Jesus, he could not contain his enthusiasm. The first thing that he did was run to tell someone else … his good friend, Nathanael. “Hey, Nathanael! Guess what?! I found him … I found HIM!! I found the One that we have been waiting for! I found the One promised by Moses and the prophets!!”

            To which Nathanael replied sarcastically, “Really. Can anything good come from Nazareth?”

            The question may have been based upon the friendship between the two and the rivalry between the city of Cana and the town of Nazareth. Or it may have been based upon the fact that Nazareth was a little insignificant town in the middle of nowhere.

            Whatever the basis of the statement, Philip did not argue or debate with him. He simply said, “Come and see. Come and see for yourself. Come and experience for yourself.”

            Then, just as God has always acted first, always loved first, Jesus spoke first. As they approached, Jesus said, “Here truly is an Israelite within whom there is no deceit.”

            Stunned, Nathanael responded, “How do you know me?” How do you know me?

            “I saw you while you were still under the fig tree before Philip called you.”

            ‘I saw you, Nathanael. I can see the content of your heart. I can see that you are a good man, an honest man. Yes, Nathanael, I know you. I know the essence of who you are.’

            It is interesting to note that the name Nathanael means “God has given” or “Gift of God.” It is also interesting to note that in the ancient Hebrew culture, the fig tree was symbolic of peace.

            Moved by the fact that he had been seen by Jesus, and the fact that he was known by Jesus, Nathanael proclaimed, “Rabbi, you are the Son of God; you are the king of Israel.”

            Philip had told his friend, “Come and see.” What Nathanael realized was that he had been seen first, he had been known first.

            Being known is deeper than being seen. Seeing is shallow and superficial. Seeing is a matter of observation. Knowing implies relationship. Knowing requires intimacy.

            In one of those ‘God wink’ moments, earlier this week someone sent me a message asking me if God can see everything that we do, both good and bad. Actually, the individual asked, ‘Does God KNOW everything that we do?’ (It is so nice when the perfect sermon illustration arrives in your “IN” box as you are working on your message.)

            My reply was, “Yes, I believe that God knows the content of our hearts.”

            It is as the psalmist said, “O God, you have searched me and know me. You know when I sit and when I rise. You know my thoughts from afar. You know every word that I speak before it is even on my lips. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me to even grasp.”

            Yes … we are seen by God, and we are KNOWN by God.

            We are seen by Jesus, and we are KNOWN by Jesus.

            Such knowledge is too wonderful for us to fully grasp. We are someone in God’s eyes and in God’s heart. We matter. We are of significance. God will remember me. God will remember you.

            Sit for a moment with that knowledge …Let it soak in.

            We are known by God … intimately. We are known by Jesus Christ.

            May it be for you a fig tree … may it be your peace.

            Even if everyone in the world should forget your name, God knows you. God remembers you. You are beautifully and wonderfully made. You are God’s Beloved child. That is my peace. That is your peace. Amen.

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