Behold, an Israelite Indeed

The following day Jesus wanted to go to Galilee, and He found Philip and said to him, “Follow Me.” Now Philip was from Bethsaida, the city of Andrew and Peter. 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.”

And Nathanael said to him, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?”

Philip said to him, “Come and see.”

Jesus saw Nathanael coming toward Him, and said of him,
“Behold, an Israelite indeed, in whom is no deceit!”

Nathanael said to Him, “How do You know me?”

Jesus answered and said to him,
“Before Philip called you, when you were under the fig tree, I saw you.”

Nathanael answered and said to Him,
“Rabbi, You are the Son of God! You are the King of Israel!”

Jesus answered and said to him,
“Because I said to you, ‘I saw you under the fig tree,’ do you believe? You will see greater things than these.” 
And He said to him, “Most assuredly, I say to you, hereafter you shall see heaven open, and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of Man.”

The Terror Of It

Michael Wigglesworth (1631—1705)


Oh piercing words, more sharp than swords!
What! to depart from Thee,
Whose face before for evermore
the best of Pleasures be!
What! to depart (unto our smart),
from thee Eternally!
To be for aye banish’d away
with Devils’ company!


What! to be sent to Punishment,
and flames of burning Fire!
To be surrounded, and eke confounded
with God’s revengeful Ire!
What! to abide, not for a tide,
these Torments, but for Ever!
To be releas’d, or to be eas’d,
not after years, but Never!


Oh fearful Doom! now there’s no room
for hope or help at all;
Sentence is past which aye shall last;
Christ will not it recall.
Then might you hear them rend and tear
the Air with their out-cries;
The hideous noise of their sad voice
ascendeth to the Skies.


They wring their hands, their caitiff-hands,
and gnash their teeth for terror;
They cry, they roar for anguish sore,
and gnaw their tongues for horror.
But get away without delay,
Christ pities not your cry;
Depart to Hell, there may you yell,
and roar Eternally.

In Hell with Devils: Doom

Michael Wigglesworth (1631—1705)


One natural Brother beholds another
in his astonied fit.
Yet sorrows not thereat a jot,
nor pities him a whit.
The godly Wife conceives no grief
nor can she shed a tear
For the sad state of her dear Mate,
when she his doom doth hear.


He that was erst a Husband pierc’d
with sense of Wife’s distress.
Whose tender heart did bear a part
of all her grievances,
Shall mourn no more as heretofore,
because of her ill plight.
Although he see her now to be
a damn’d forsaken wight.


The tender Mother will own no other
of all her num’rous brood,
But such as stand at Christ’s right hand,
acquitted through his Blood.
The pious Father had now much rather
his graceless Son should lie
In Hell with Devils, for all his evils,
burning eternally,


Than God most High should injury
by sparing him sustain;
And doth rejoice to hear Christ’s voice,
adjudging him to pain.
Thus having all, both great and small,
convinc’d and silencéd,
Christ did proceed their Doom to read,
and thus it utteréd:

The Judge pronounceth the sentence of condemnation.


Ye sinful wights and curséd sprights,
that work iniquity,
Depart together from me for ever
to endless Misery;
Your portion take in yonder Lake,
where Fire and Brimstone flameth;
Suffer the smart which your desert,
as its due wages claimeth.“