“He said to them, “Come and see.” They came and saw where he was staying, and they remained with him that day. It was about four o’clock in the afternoon.”

— John 1:39

Our gospel lesson this week sets the stage for everything that follows in John’s Gospel and, really, for the season of Epiphany itself. The first disciples come to know Jesus not through spectacle or certainty, but through witness. John the Baptist points. He testifies. He speaks as the voice crying out in the wilderness. And when he does, two disciples hear him and begin to follow Jesus.

It matters how the Gospel writer tells this story. John the Baptist is not a reimagined Elijah here. He is not the center. He is the witness. He tells the truth about Jesus and then steps aside. The disciples’ first words to Jesus are not a confession of faith or a bold declaration. They ask a simple, searching question: “Where are you staying?”

The gospel writer uses the word meno, to remain, or to abide. It will become one of the Gospel’s great themes, and Jesus answers with another phrase the writer will return to again and again: “Come and see.” If John the evangelist were writing a paper, her professor might give high marks for such a careful and elegant introduction.

But wait! there’s more. This is Epiphany, after all. The season when the church listens for how Jesus is revealed to the world. If there were a checklist of revelation, the RCL texts would let us check each box with satisfaction over the next few weeks. Yet this Gospel refuses to give us revelation as a finished product but as an invitation.

So what is this “come and see”? Why does the Gospel writer repeat it? How does it show us who Jesus is?

I’ve been at this ministry thing for a few years now, and I’ve learned that God’s self-revelation does not work the way I want it to. When I want to know something, I want to know it now. I want clarity, certainty, and preferably without much effort. God does not seem interested in operating on my timeline or my lazy claim of epistemology.

I don’t know whether God pours out revelation by the gallon or allows only a slow trickle, a drip here and there. I know I receive it in small doses. I’ve been learning about our Lord for 49 years, and sometimes it feels like the needle of my understanding has only wiggled, not truly moved. I’ve been in ministry for 17 years. I’m a better pastor than when I began, and I’m not nearly as good as I think I should be.

Maybe Jesus is onto something, especially in John’s gospel. Maybe we come to know God only by coming and seeing, by staying, by abiding, by spending time. This isn’t the efficient or productive path I would prefer. It requires time and commitment, study, and … well abiding. It does, however, seem to be the most faithful method. .

Beloved, I am deeply grateful for the way we stay together as we come and see. Again and again, you have revealed God’s love to me. You have helped me glimpse who God is. So let’s keep hanging out. Let’s keep abiding. Let’s keep coming and seeing—together.