'Philip saith unto Jesus, Lord, shew us the Father, and it sufficeth
us. 9. Jesus saith unto Him, Have I been so long time with you, and yet
hast thou not known Me, Philip? He that hath seen Me hath seen the
Father; and how sayest thou then, Shew us the Father? Believest thou
not that I am in the Father, and the Father in Me? The words that I
speak unto you I speak not of Myself: but the Father, that dwelleth in
Me, He doeth the works. Believe Me that I am in the Father, and the
Father in Me: or else believe Me for the very works' sake.'—JOHN xiv.
8-11.
The vehement burst with which Philip interrupts the calm flow of our
Lord's discourse is not the product of mere frivolity or curiosity. One
hears the ring of earnestness in it, and the yearnings of many years
find voice. Philip had felt out of his depth, no doubt, in the profound
teachings which our Lord had been giving, but His last words about
seeing God set a familiar chord vibrating. As an Old Testament believer
he knew that Moses had once led the elders of Israel up to the mount
where 'they saw the God of Israel,' and that to many others had been
granted sensible manifestations of the divine presence. As a disciple
he longed for some similar sign to confirm his faith. As a man he was
conscious of the deep need which all of us have, whether we are
conscious of it or not, for something more real and tangible than an
unseeable and unknowable God. The peculiarities of Philip's temperament
strengthened the desire. The first appearance that he makes in the
Gospels is characteristically like this his last. To all Nathanael's
objections he had only the reply, 'Come and see.' And here he says:
'Oh! if we could _see_ the Father it would be enough.' He was one of
the men to whom seeing is believing, and so he speaks.
His petition is childlike in its simplicity, beautiful in its trust,
noble and true in its estimate of what men need. He longs to see God.
He believes that Christ can show God; he is sure that the sight of God
will satisfy the heart. These are errors, or truths, according to what
is meant by 'seeing.' Philip meant a palpable manifestation, and so far
he was wrong. Give the word its highest and its truest meaning, and
Philip's error becomes grand truth. Our Lord gently, lovingly, and with
only a hint of rebuke, answers the request, and seeks to disengage the
error from the truth. His answer lies in the verses that we have read.
Let us try to follow them, and, as we may, to skim their surface, for
their depths are beyond us.
First of all, then, we have the sight of God in Christ as enough to
answer men's longings. There is a world of sadness and tenderness, of
suppressed pain and of grieved affection, in the first words of our
Lord's reply. 'Have I been so long time with you, and yet hast thou not
known Me, Philip?' He seldom names His disciples. When He does, there
is a deep cadence of affection in the designation. This man was one of
the first disciples, the little original band called by Christ Himself,
and thus had been with Him all the time of His ministry, and the Master
wonders with a gentle wonder that, before eyes that loved Him as much
as Philip's did, His continual self-revelation had been made to so
little purpose. In the answer, in its first portion, there lies the
reiteration of the thoughts that I was trying to dwell upon in the last
sermon, which, therefore, I may lightly touch now—viz., that the sight
of Christ is the sight of God—'He that hath seen Me hath seen the
Father'—and that not to know Christ as thus showing God is not to know
Him at all—'Thou hast not known Me, Philip.' Further, there is the
thought that the sight of God in Christ is sufficient, 'How sayest
thou, Shew us the Father?' From all this we may gather some thoughts on
which I lightly touch.