Come and see what God has done. That invitation, to witness the mighty works of the Lord, echoes down to us throughout history. We’re offered that invitation in every incident recorded in Scripture. Come and see. See how He made a people for Himself, see how He cares for His people. See how He preserved them, how He brought them out of slavery, how He led them through the midst of the sea, where no one goes voluntarily. See how He preserved a remnant not just through a wilderness of idolatry and faithless rulers but also through exile and back again. See how He became man, entering into our suffering and brokenness, and defeated death. Come and see.
It’s the invitation extended to the Israelites on every feast day and with every memorial. The testimony – literally, the tablet of commandments – the jar of manna, Aaron’s staff that budded, all preserved in the Ark of Covenant: the preservation of those items was an invitation to come, see, remember, be amazed. Passover, the Feast of Booths, the Feast of Weeks: come and see what God has done, in time long past and in recent events in His current providence.
It’s the invitation the angels gave to the shepherds that night long ago, in the fields outside of Bethlehem. Come and see what God has done, good tidings of great joy wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger. Come and see. We see it in recorded church history as well, in the biographies, memoirs, and writings of missionaries. Come and see how the Lord changes lives and transforms individuals, reordering their affections and their priorities.
That invitation is also implicitly extended every time we walk into a church service. Come and see what God has done and is doing in the lives of His people right now. It’s found in the public baptisms, in the weddings, in the baby dedications, and even in the funerals of those who follow Him. Come and see, come and hear, all you who fear God, and I will tell what He has done for my soul. Come and see how He gives beauty in the place of ashes. gladness instead of mourning, garments of praise in the place of weary and faint spirits.
It’s the invitation we extend to each other as we enter into life with the believers around us. That might be intimidating for some of us. Often the work that the Lord is doing is painful, and I, for one, am not excited to speak of those things to even all 300+ who attend the same local church as me. I think that’s ok (and no, I’m not just saying that to give myself an out). It’s not for all of us to speak openly and widely of the intimate works that the Lord has done. I would argue though that it is for each of us to speak of these things to at least a few. That’s a role that small groups or close friendships often fill. There too is the invitation to come and see, intimately and specifically, and often even play a part in, what God has done in the lives of fellow believers. I think we’re all called to that level of fellowship and intimacy with at least a few individuals.
As we wrap up 2021 and head into a new year with all its hopes, dreams, and untold challenges, this should be something of which we’re mindful. Is there anyone around you who could name two or three ways in which the Lord has worked in your life over the course of the last year? If not, what steps can you take to change that? Let’s be intentional about forming, fostering, and feeding intimate friendships that are founded on something other than our preferred leisure past-times.