"Philip said to Him, 'Lord, show us the Father and then we will be satisfied.' Jesus said to him, 'Have I been with you for so long a time, and you do not know Me yet, Philip, nor recognize clearly who I am?'"—John 14:9, Amplified
The more I read the gospels the more I realize I’m a lot like Philip—I think I get Jesus, but I don’t really get Jesus. It's not unlike walking a favorite woodland trail and seeing the sun through the maze of obstacles and yet not really seeing the sun.
If I had been Philip or one of the 12, I’m sure I would have been as clueless, blind, fearful, thick-skulled, and puzzled at times as they were by Jesus’ parables on life, His way of life... His life, period. Yet like them, even though never totally getting it, you realize there is something extraordinary about Jesus that keeps drawing you in closer and closer and with greater resolve, sometimes against all odds, pulling you along to see what’s next on this crazy Journey.
I like how God made sure Philip got included in the gospels. I think He wanted to let us know that He gets us.
Philip's honest, "I-can't-believe-I'm-saying-this-but-I'm-going-to-say-it-anyway" question is hope for us all— that this Walk is a lifetime of knowing and being with Jesus more than ever and yet never fully knowing Him; of being at times surprisingly filled with Heaven-sent discernment and yet at times being earthbound clueless; of walking through seasons of unshakable belief as well as ones of dizzying doubt.
Perhaps it is akin to the real-life parable of the new contact prescription: A man with two new lenses on his eyeballs was driving down the highway one day, and while he could see everything right in front of him as plain as day, peering into the depths was another story because only one lens brought clarity. The other lens was fuzzy and needed correcting.
Maybe, just maybe, this is what knowing Jesus more and more in both a cognitive and experiential way is supposed to look like. The thing that needs correcting is that never really knowing and seeing Jesus clearly every day is not only normal or OK, it's all part of The Plan of faith and trust. It means staying steady in all our Philip moments, and maybe not always running as we'd like but rather simply putting one foot in front of the other. It means to keep drawing near even in the fog and, like those first disciples, keep being pulled along like a magnet by Someone more powerful and profound and wonderful and all-consumingly attractive, and eternally satisfying than anything or anyone this world has ever seen...
“For now, we can only see a dim and blurry picture of things, as when we stare into polished metal. I realize that everything I know is only part of the big picture. But one day, when Jesus arrives, we will see clearly, face-to-face. In that day, I will fully know just as I have been wholly known by God.”
—1 Corinthians 13:12, Voice
And all along the woodland paths and the highway of holiness, even with one-eyed clarity at times, it's a reminder in a lot of areas of life that faith is both “confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see”…and therefore, to keep praying for what you don't see clearly now: the impossible when that seems like a nutty thing to do, “Thy kingdom come” in friends, loved ones, and messy situations of life when you wonder how on earth that’s all going to work, and staying faithful and steadfast when you wonder what’s the point of it all.
And most of all, to turn “I’m not seeing it” on its head by adding one simple three-letter word at the end…
“Yet.”
“I give You back today the prayers I’ve prayed that are not answered—yet.
The seeds I’ve sown that haven’t borne harvest—yet.
Restore the years, the prayers, the trust that the locusts have eaten. Remember me, Lord, redeem my life, and answer my oldest, truest, prayers. Amen.”
—Pete Greig, from “Dirty Glory—Go Where Your Best Prayers Take You”
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