He went on to say that he is fascinated by his wife's ability to pick colors that go well together. What is most fascinating is how she notices that the appearance of a particular color in a piece of fabric can be changed by the colors which are around it. She will hold up several different ties and say, "Oh -- this shirt brings out the browns in this tie, but this shirt brings out the blues in it."
The same principle is true in all of life. The diverse hues of ethnic heritage, religious background, and cultural practices blend together in different ways to give the fabric of life its depth and richness. Of course, we are not always comfortable with such diversity, and so it frequently becomes a source of conflict rather than unity.
It is also how we are blended together as God's people in the church. Each of us has an impact on the other. Where you've been this week, what you've done, what you've said -- all of it has had an effect on our life together as people of this congregation both within and outside of the communities in which we live.
I think we sometimes forget this dimension of the fabric known as our congregation. Through each one of you, the impact of our community of faith has reached beyond the four walls of this building into public schools, consulting firms, doctor's offices, hospitals, and company boardrooms. In fact, the list of places we have touched this week is too long to name each one.
It involves each of our unique perspectives and values that we share with others. It involves our concern for each other and for what is going on in the world around us. It involves both our common faith experiences and the faith experiences that are unique to us.
This "linking together" of humanity has been a characteristic of life since the beginning of time. But in our times it has taken on a new dimension. We now live in a global community. Through the medium of television and the Internet, we have almost instant access to each other, no matter where in the world we live. It means that what is happening in distant parts of the world can have an immediate effect on our lives right here, whether it is a millennium celebration in New Zealand or a military coup in West Africa. We are, indeed, like a multi-colored piece of cloth whose beauty and appearance is affected by who each one of us is!
This introduction is prompted by this morning's Gospel story about Nathaniel. He is mentioned only twice in the Bible, and then, only in the Gospel of John. Matthew, Mark, and Luke never talk about him. They do talk about Bartholomew in the places where John talks about Nathaniel. Since John never mentions Barthol-omew, our best guess is that the two are the same person.
Nathaniel was the fourth disciple. According to John, Jesus called Peter and Andrew first. Then he called Philip. Then Philip went and brought Nathaniel. His only other mention is with the other disciples at one of the resurrection appearances. Beyond that, he simply blended in with the others.
What we do know about Nathaniel is that he was a person who was hoping and searching. We know it because of the fig tree. At a time when people lived in one-room houses, we know that they often planted fig trees in front of their homes as a place to "get away to."
A fig tree is about fifteen feet tall and its branches spread out about 25 feet in width like an umbrella, creating a space that is almost like a private room. If someone wanted to get away from the chaos of a one-room house, he or she would sit under the fig tree. They would sit there to read scripture or to reflect or to pray. Sitting under a fig tree was a sign of seeking and praying for God's living presence. Now, I realize that this church looks nothing like a fig tree. But isn't that why we're here? We have come together here with the yearning to know the touch of the living God. We come to "retreat" from the chaos of the world around us so we can read scripture, reflect, and pray. I hope you will see that, despite his relative anonymity, we do have much in common with Nathaniel.
We also know about Nathaniel that he was a man "in whom there was no deceit." In modern English, that means he was a person who sought to be honorable and decent. He was not a prominent person, but he was a good person who tried to be a responsible participant in the community of which he was a part.
I think that describes you, too. I know you to be good people. I know that you are concerned about and care for the world in which we live. I know we are a diverse people with widely differing ideas about how things in life should be accomplished. I know that we often argue vigorously with each other about what courses of action should be taken in given situations. But that's part of the multi-colored fabric of human existence. My point is simply that regardless of your ideas and opinions, your motives are genuine. I could easily apply the description of Nathaniel to you: "persons in whom there is no deceit."
What does Jesus' calling of Nathaniel have to do with the multi-colored fabric of human existence? I must confess that our recent entry into a new era of history -- a new millennium -- had an effect on the way this passage spoke to me.
How is history made? There are two distinctly opposite schools of thought on the matter with shades and variations in between. One school holds that history is shaped by the "prominent" people of a given era who lead everyone according to their ideas and values. They are the Julius Caesars, the Alexander the Greats, and the Franklin D. Roosevelts. The opposite school holds that history is shaped by movements arising from the "grass roots" -- from people who hold their convictions so strongly that leaders simply appear to give leadership to a parade that is already underway.
I suspect that the truth is a combination of the two. Leaders do lead. Without the leadership of Martin Luther, there would have been no Protestant Reformation. But the momentum and direction of history also comes from very ordinary people. Without the response of the peasants and lower classes, there would also have been no Protestant Reformation.
I make a point of this because average people like you and me are often tempted to discount the ordinary. That is where I hear the story of Nathaniel speaking. God's will for history is not accomplished only by the elite or powerful. It is accomplished by the actions of ordinary disciples like Nathaniel -- like you and me.
That's something we need to hear once in a while. We need to hear that our debates and disagreements about how to solve the injustices of life do have an effect on the course of human events. In a global community, it is easy to conclude we are such a small part of the picture that we can't possibly have an effect on the course of history in our time.
I've heard the comment many times. "I'm only one person. What good can I do?" Nothing could be further from reality. Church advocacy groups who work with legislators on public issues of justice have discovered a significant phenomena. Many legislators, both on a state and national level, have commented that if they receive as few as four letters about a given piece of legislation they take notice.
Ordinary disciples do make a difference. Remember, our concerns, hopes, and efforts are heard by God as God works them into the fabric of his Holy Will for humankind. Remember, too, the prayers of "ordinary people" -- your prayers -- are used by God to bring peace, justice, and healing to a world beset by turmoil and conflict, whether it is here or on the other side of the world. They may seem like ordinary prayers. But then, if we take the ordinary disciple, Nathaniel, seriously -- we will know that it is through the ordinary that God's will is ultimately accomplished.