But Jesus asked, “Do you believe this because I saw you?”
John 1:47-50 Jesus said, “Now here is a genuine son of Israel—a man of complete integrity.” “How do you know about me?” Nathanael asked. Jesus replied, “I could see you under the fig tree before Philip found you.” Then Nathanael exclaimed, “Rabbi, you are the Son of God—the King of Israel!” Jesus asked him, “Do you believe this just because I told you I had seen you under the fig tree? You will see greater things than this.”
“I see you!” or “I found you!” my granddaughter shouts gleefully. Then it’s her turn to hide, and at age two, she’s not expert in concealing herself. Part of my role is pretending to look in multiple places, detailing my “search” aloud, before I “find” her. A bit younger, she thought that if she couldn’t see me, if her eyes were closed or covered, I couldn’t see her.

Three of our littles, resting after an intense game of hide and seek
“’Hiding’ from God is like this,” I muse. “Even if I want to, I can’t actually hide from him, physically, emotionally, or spiritually.”
If you’ve seen the episode about Nathanael in Season 1 of The Chosen, you remember his turmoil and grief as he sat under that fig tree. In such a moment of despair, doesn’t each of us long to be truly seen, fully understood? There is so much more going on here than physical sight. Jesus sees Nathanael from a great distance, yes. But more than seeing his body, Jesus sees his heart, his soul, his desperate need.
As I’ve thought about Jesus’ earlier question, “What do you want?” highlighted in Monday’s blog, I realized this is what I want most, to be seen by the Lord. And to clearly see him. In all the complexity of life, all the competing desires and motivations, confusion of judgment and action, to be seen and to see truly, to be understood and to understand, feels to me right now to be the greatest gift I could ever desire.
The words “see,” “seen,” “saw,” occur twelve times in John 1, along with many other vision words: light in darkness, recognize, glory, reveal(ed), testimony (eyewitness), look (or behold), find, found. “Come and see,” Jesus invites two men (v. 39), and what he showed them in a few hours—far beyond what they had asked, simply to know where he was staying—convinced Andrew that Jesus was the Christ, the Messiah, the Anointed One for whom every faithful Jew had been waiting for their entire lives, for hundreds of years.
John states explicitly why he wrote his Gospel, some three decades after Matthew, Mark, and Luke had written theirs: “so that you may believe [continue to believe] that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that by believing in him you will have life by the power of his name” (20:31).
John’s book is crafted with this purpose in mind, from the first chapter to the twenty-first. I’m intrigued by the names of Jesus John records in chapter one. He is the Word (the Logos, the source and expression of all creation). The true light. The unique One. Consistent with his prophetic insight, John the Baptist calls him the Lamb of God and the Chosen One of God. Andrew tells Simon Peter he has found the Messiah, the Christ.
And in the last few verses of the chapter, John offers us this sequential revelation:
Philip calls Jesus the son of Joseph (v. 45).
(Not quite right, Philip, but good try. True, he’s the adopted son of Joseph.)
Nathanael calls Jesus the Son of God (v. 49).
Amazing for him to recognize this on first meeting Jesus.
Jesus calls himself the Son of Man (v. 51).
For a long time, I’ve puzzled over why “Son of Man” is Jesus’ favorite name for himself. I think now I kind of get it, in an awestruck kind of way. I’m writing a book that is largely set in Heaven. From Heaven’s point of view, the Son has always been Son within the holy Trinity. What is new, incredible, too remarkable to be contained in words, is that the Son of God became a son of mankind, born of a human mother, taking on our humanity, laying aside his glory—too bright for human eyes—so that, in the fullness of the Spirit, he can reveal God to us. Truly, for Nathanael to understand the meaning of “Son of Man” is a “greater thing” for him (and for us) to see (v. 50).
Like when I drive around a corner and a rising or setting sun shines straight into my eyes, I’m blinded to anything else and must shield my eyes to be able to see anything else and drive safely. Jesus shields his glory as Son of God within his human body so that we can look at him and understand the Father.

The name “Son of Man” references the miracle of incarnation, a turn of events the angels could never have imagined. John’s sequence of increasing revelation makes sense. And leaves me with goosebumps.
No one has ever seen God. But the unique One, who is himself God, is near to the Father’s heart. He has revealed God to us (John 1:18).
So, do you believe? Has John’s purpose in writing this Gospel already impacted your life? If so, what have you seen and understood of Jesus that led to this belief?
Or is it the case that he sees you, hiding in plain sight?