I. The Weight of a Calling

Our passage begins with just five words from John the Baptist. But behind those five words stands a lifetime of longing, preparation, and prophetic expectation.

“The next day again John was standing with two of his disciples, and he looked at Jesus as he walked by and said, ‘Behold, the Lamb of God!’” (John 1:35–36, ESV)

This is not the first time John makes this declaration, but in the Gospel of John, it is the final time. And with these words, he completes the mission for which he was born. These verses represent a turning point in redemptive history. This is the moment where the final prophet of the old covenant points to the fulfillment of all prophecy in the person of Jesus Christ. It is the quiet handoff from one era to the next. It is not just the end of John’s public ministry. It is the beginning of something far greater.

We should not rush past this moment. These are John’s last public teachings in the Gospel of John. And what a way to finish. He does not leave the stage with frustration or self-pity. He does not complain about being overlooked or fade out in disappointment. He does not grasp for the spotlight. He lets go.

John understood something that many of us are still learning. The point of our calling is not that people admire us. The point is that they follow Jesus. That is the goal of every faithful parent, every pastor, every mentor, every Christian friend. We are not the destination. We are signs that point the way. Our joy is not in gathering a following. Our joy is in seeing people follow Christ.

The early church father John Chrysostom captured this beautifully when he said that John the Baptist acted like the friend of the bridegroom. The friend does not take the bride for himself. He brings her to the groom, joins their hands together, and then quietly steps aside. That is the role of every Christian witness. Our calling is to point the world to Jesus and then move out of the way.

But let us not move too quickly past the title John uses. He says, “Behold, the Lamb of God.” What did he mean by that?

This was not just a poetic way of describing Jesus as kind or peaceful. This was temple language. This was sacrificial language. This was the language of Passover. John was not pointing to Jesus simply as a teacher or moral leader. He was identifying Him as the sacrifice that God had provided for the sin of the world.

Earlier in verse 29, John had declared with even more detail,

“Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!” (John 1:29, ESV)

Notice the way he says it. He does not say that Jesus took away the sin of the world, as if this was a one-time event in the past. He does not say that Jesus will take away sin, as if it lies in the future. He says, “who takes away” in the present tense. This is an ongoing reality. Jesus is not still being crucified, but by that one sacrifice, He continually cleanses sin. He remains the remedy for guilt. He remains the Savior who forgives. Every moment that passes, Jesus is still the Lamb who takes away sin. His work is complete, and yet its effects continue without end.

If you listen carefully to everything John the Baptist says throughout the Gospel, you will hear one message repeated again and again. His focus was never on himself. His entire testimony pointed to one truth. Jesus is the Lamb that God has provided. He is the sufficient sacrifice. He is the one who takes away sin for all who believe.

Now remember, John had disciples. These were men who had walked with him through the wilderness. They had listened to him challenge the religious elite. They had stood by him through rejection and hardship. These were loyal followers. And now, in one sentence, John points them away from himself and toward Christ.

He does not try to hold onto them. He does not ask them to stay. His joy is not in being followed, but in seeing Jesus followed. That is why, in John chapter 3, he says,

“He must increase, but I must decrease.” (John 3:30, ESV)

That is not just humility. That is faithfulness. John understood his purpose, and he fulfilled it. When the moment came to let go, he did so gladly, because his eyes were not fixed on his own reputation. His eyes were fixed on the Lamb. The same should be true for us. Our greatest calling is not to be noticed, but to be faithful. Like John the Baptist, our greatest legacy will not be the crowd we gathered, but the Christ we pointed to.

II. The First Steps of Faith

After John declares, “Behold, the Lamb of God,” we read: “The two disciples heard him say this, and they followed Jesus.” (John 1:37, ESV). Notice that there is no hesitation. No deliberation. No questions. They simply go.

These disciples did not just hear John’s words; they responded. That is faith. True discipleship is not content with admiration. It requires movement. Early Christian writers often compared John to a lamp and Christ to the rising sun. The lamp gives light for a time, but when the sun appears, the lamp fades. These two disciples, standing in the light of the morning, did the only thing that made sense. They walked toward the rising sun.

Then Jesus turns and speaks His first recorded words in John’s Gospel: “What are you seeking?” (John 1:38, ESV).

Theologian Rudolf Bultmann viewed this as the central question for anyone who encounters Christ: “What are you truly looking for?” Are you seeking power, comfort, religious experience? Or are you longing for truth, life, and redemption?

The disciples reply: “Rabbi… where are you staying?” At first, it might seem like a vague or evasive response. But they are not asking for an address. They are asking to be with Him. This is about presence and relationship. They do not want a brief encounter with Jesus. They want to remain with Him. This is the essence of discipleship, to dwell with Christ, to abide in Him.

Jesus answers with a simple invitation: “Come and you will see.” (John 1:39). That is His call, not just to observe or study, but to walk with Him. To learn by being near. And so, they came. They saw. We are not told what Jesus said to them in those hours, but something clearly changed. We know that because the very next thing Andrew does is find his brother.

John tells us: “He first found his own brother Simon and said to him, ‘We have found the Messiah’ (which means Christ).”(John 1:41, ESV). Martin Luther referred to Andrew as the “first preacher” of the messiahship of Jesus. He had no pulpit, no training in theology. He simply had a heart overflowing with joy. His message was brief and bold: “We have found Him.”

That statement reveals a deep longing. Andrew had been waiting for the Messiah, hoping for this very moment. And when he found Him, he could not keep the news to himself.

This speaks to an important truth: true conversion does not remain isolated. It reaches outward. The German theologian Johannes Oecolampadius once wrote, “Those who truly find Christ are not content with their own salvation but are inflamed to draw others.”

Andrew brings Simon to Jesus, and then something remarkable happens. Jesus gives him a new name:

“Jesus looked at him and said, ‘You are Simon the son of John. You shall be called Cephas’ (which means Peter).” (John 1:42, ESV)

In Scripture, renaming is not a casual act. It is a divine prerogative. God renamed Abram, Sarai, and Jacob to mark a new identity and calling. When Jesus renames Simon, He is declaring a new purpose and destiny. He sees who Simon is, but also who he will become.

As Augustine of Hippo noted, the name “Peter” is more than personal. It represents something much larger. It points to the Church, the rock on which Christ will build. Jesus looks into Simon’s heart, sees the potential and sincerity, and says, “You are Simon, but you will be Peter.”

The path of discipleship is not glamorous. It is rarely easy. But it begins with a question: “What are you seeking?” And it continues with a gentle invitation: “Come and see.” For those who come, and for those who stay, the reward is far greater than information. They find the Messiah. And in finding Him, they discover who they truly are.

III. The Calling of Philip and Nathanael

We have watched as one disciple brings another: John points Andrew to Jesus, and Andrew brings Peter. But now the scene shifts. This time, it is Jesus who takes the initiative. He seeks out Philip.

Philip did not stumble across Jesus by chance. Jesus came looking for him. Like a shepherd who knows His sheep, He found Philip and said, “Follow Me.” Unlike Andrew, who responded to John’s testimony, or Peter, who came because of Andrew’s witness, Philip wasn’t brought to Jesus by any witness. He simply heard Jesus. And that was enough.

There is a lesson here. The voice of Christ carries its own authority. When He speaks, His words carry weight. No need for persuasion or spectacle. Just the quiet power of divine calling wrapped in simple words: “Follow Me.”

What happens next echoes the pattern we have already seen. Philip, like Andrew before him, immediately looks outward. He does not keep this treasure to himself. He finds someone. He tells someone. That someone is Nathanael.

“Philip found Nathanael and said to him, ‘We have found Him of whom Moses in the Law and also the prophets wrote, Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Joseph.’” (John 1:45, ESV)

Notice Philip’s words: “We have found Him…” The same joy, the same urgency. But there is a slight misstep in how Philip presents Jesus. He calls Him “Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Joseph.” His understanding is still growing. Yet his heart is already burning with conviction.

Nathanael’s response comes quickly: “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” (John 1:46a, ESV). His skepticism might sound sharp, but in his cultural context, it was not unusual. Nazareth was an obscure, often despised village. Known for its Gentile influence and lack of prestige, it was not the kind of place people expected the Messiah to come from.

Philip could have argued. He could have tried to defend his claim with Scripture or logic. But he does something far more powerful. He simply says, “Come and see.” (John 1:46b, ESV). That is all. No debate. No long explanation. Just an invitation. And it is enough.

Many of us hesitate to speak about Jesus because we feel unprepared. We think we need answers to every question, or a polished presentation. But Philip reminds us of something freeing: you do not need to have it all figured out to say, “Come and see.” You need faith. You need conviction. You need love for the One you have found.

The French theologian John Calvin put it this way: “Better to stammer about the true Christ than eloquently describe a false one.” We are not called to win arguments. We are called to lead people to Jesus. Invite the skeptic. Invite the curious. Invite the broken and the weary. Do not wait until every intellectual objection is resolved. No one is argued into the Kingdom. But many have been welcomed into it through the quiet witness of a believer and a simple invitation to encounter Christ.

IV. Nathanael’s Confession

Nathanael agrees to meet Jesus, and what happens next is something only God can do. Jesus sees into his heart, reveals a hidden moment, and draws from him a confession that, while not yet fully formed, is sincere and full of joy.

“Jesus saw Nathanael coming toward him and said of him, ‘Behold, an Israelite indeed, in whom there is no deceit!’”(John 1:47, ESV). In other words, “Here is someone genuine.” No pretense. No guile. No religious performance. Nathanael is honest, even in his doubt.

Surprised, Nathanael asks, “How do you know me?” And Jesus replies, “Before Philip called you, when you were under the fig tree, I saw you.” (John 1:48). That simple statement opens Nathanael’s eyes. It reveals that Jesus knows him intimately; his location, his thoughts, perhaps even his prayers.

Stunned, Nathanael responds, “Rabbi, you are the Son of God! You are the King of Israel!” (John 1:49).

This is a remarkable shift. Nathanael moves from skepticism, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” to a joyful confession of Jesus’ identity. He recognizes that he is not dealing with a mere teacher, but someone far greater.

Still, there is an important distinction between Nathanael’s confession and the one Peter will later make. Nathanael calls Jesus the “King of Israel,” which likely reflects a national hope for a Messiah who would restore Israel politically and spiritually. His understanding, though sincere, is still limited.

Peter’s confession, by contrast, will go deeper: “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” (Matthew 16:16). Jesus calls Peter “blessed” for this insight, because it was revealed to him by the Father. Nathanael’s words are a beginning. Peter’s words reflect a deeper grasp of Christ’s mission.

But this is the beauty of how faith grows. Nathanael doesn’t yet see the whole picture, and that is perfectly fine. Faith often starts with awe, not comprehension. You don’t have to know everything to start following Jesus. You just need to respond to the One who sees you, knows you, and invites you to come and see.

VI. “You Will See Greater Things” John 1:50–51 (ESV)

We then read: “Jesus answered him, ‘Because I said to you, “I saw you under the fig tree,” do you believe? You will see greater things than these.’” (John 1:50, ESV)

Nathanael had just declared, “Rabbi, you are the Son of God! You are the King of Israel.” It was a powerful confession, but Jesus responds by telling him this is only the beginning.

“You believe because I saw you under the fig tree?” That moment had been enough to stir Nathanael’s heart and awaken his faith. But Jesus points forward. He is not finished. In fact, He is just beginning. And this is often how faith works. We begin with a glimpse, a small encounter, a spark of insight. From there, Christ leads us deeper into truth and higher into glory.

Jesus then says something astonishing: “Truly, truly, I say to you, you will see heaven opened, and the angels of God ascending and descending on the Son of Man.” (John 1:51, ESV)

Here, Jesus reaches back to Genesis 28 and the story of Jacob’s dream at Bethel. In that vision, Jacob saw a ladder stretching from earth to heaven, with angels going up and down. But notice what Jesus says here. He does not speak of angels on a ladder. He speaks of angels on the Son of Man.

He is the ladder. He is the connection between heaven and earth. He is the place where the divine meets the human. As Augustine puts it, “He is the way. He is the door. There is no other path upward. If we ascend, we ascend in Him. If angels come and go, it is by His command.”

Jesus also introduces a significant title here: “Son of Man.” This is the title He most often uses for Himself in the Gospels. It speaks both to His full humanity and to His divine authority. Nathanael had just called Him the King of Israel, but Jesus now points to a far greater identity. He is not just the national Messiah Nathanael anticipated. He is the fulfillment of Daniel’s vision, the Son of Man who is given dominion, glory, and an everlasting kingdom. (Daniel 7:13–14)

Some of us are content with the knowledge that Jesus sees us. And that is a wonderful truth. But the Gospel calls us beyond that. It invites us to ascend by faith and descend in love. Augustine once said, “The Lord ascended and descended, so His preachers ascend by imitation and descend by preaching.” This is the pattern of the Church. This is the rhythm of discipleship. We rise in our devotion to Christ and we go down into the world to make Him known.

VII. Conclusion:

So what does this mean for us today?

First, evangelism is often simpler than we imagine. It begins with honest testimony and a willing heart. You do not need to be a trained theologian to say, “We have found the Messiah.” You simply need the courage to speak and the love to share what you’ve found.

Second, Jesus meets us where we are, but He never intends for us to stay there. Nathanael began with skepticism, sitting under a fig tree filled with questions. But he ended up confessing Christ. The grace of our Savior is that He receives us as we are, yet He always draws us into something deeper and fuller.

Third, discipleship is not just about believing. It is about following. It is about remaining. It is about abiding. The first disciples did not merely agree with Jesus in theory, they walked with Him. They stayed with Him. They reordered their lives around His presence. That is what it means to follow Christ.

Fourth, we should never overlook the power of small beginnings. The Church was not launched by scholars or rulers, but by fishermen, seekers, and skeptics. It did not begin with credentials, but with curiosity. It did not begin with influence, but with faithfulness. And through those ordinary people, God began an extraordinary work.

Finally, the greatest thing we will ever behold is not a miracle, not a vision, and not even a revival. It is Christ Himself. He is the Son of Man, the one who joins heaven and earth. He is the true ladder, the living connection between the Father and His people. He is not only the way to God, He is God with us.