I recently watched The Other Bennet series on TV, adapted from the book ‘The Other Bennet Sister’ by Janice Hadlow, and I was shocked to realise that I had never really thought about the character of Mary Bennet—what she went through, or what became of her—even though I have read Pride and Prejudice and watched many adaptations. My overlooking of Mary mirrors a theme that runs throughout the story itself: Mary feels overlooked, unseen, and unheard. She is present, earnest, and faithful, yet rarely noticed or valued.

I was reflecting on this when I read this week’s lectionary readings from John’s Gospel, chapter 14, and from 1 Peter, chapter 2. Suddenly I was struck by Philip’s words: “Master, show us the Father, and then we will be content.” And I realised how little I truly know about Philip—one of the twelve disciples—despite having encountered him again and again in Scripture. Like Mary Bennet, Philip is often present at key moments yet easily fades into the background of the story.

So, who is Philip, and what do we know of him? Philip is among the first disciples called by Jesus, and significantly, he is called directly by Jesus rather than through another disciple. Immediately, Philip becomes an inviter: he goes to Nathanael and says simply, “Come and see.” Philip appears several times in John’s Gospel as a practical and thoughtful figure. At the feeding of the five thousand, it is Philip who voices the impossibility of the situation by calculating the cost of bread. He is logical, attentive to reality, and honest about limits. Later, when a group of Greeks want to see Jesus, it is Philip—along with Andrew—who acts as a go-between. Philip often stands at thresholds, helping others to move closer to Christ, even when he himself is still working things out.

That makes Philip’s question in John 14 deeply characteristic. “Show us the Father,” he asks—not as a challenge, but as a heartfelt request. Philip longs for assurance, visibility, and certainty. He wants to see the God he has committed his life to following. And Jesus’ response is profound: “Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father.”
This moment becomes one of the clearest statements of the incarnation in the Gospel. God is not hidden, distant, or abstract. God has chosen to be known in Jesus—in flesh and blood, in relationship, in ordinary human life.

This revelation connects powerfully with the image in 1 Peter chapter 2, where Christ is described as the living stone—rejected by others, yet chosen and precious to God. Jesus himself becomes the overlooked one, the dismissed one, the stone the builders could not see as valuable. And yet, God builds everything upon him. Philip’s quiet, questioning faith opens space for this truth to be spoken aloud. What appears uncertain or ordinary becomes foundational.

So, what might we take home from Philip today? Especially in this Easter season, Philip shows us that resurrection faith does not eliminate uncertainty. It invites us to keep walking with the risen Christ, trusting that understanding comes gradually. Easter people are not those with all the answers, but those who remain, listen, and continue to follow.

Philip reminds us that faithful discipleship includes the courage to ask honest questions. Wanting to see, to understand, to be assured does not disqualify us from faith. Instead, it can deepen it. When we bring our uncertainty to Jesus, we may discover that God has already drawn closer than we imagined.

Within these scriptures is also a call to action. Peter tells us that we, too, are living stones, being built into a spiritual house. That means paying attention to those who feel overlooked within our churches, our communities, and even within ourselves. God’s kingdom is often built through the quiet, faithful presence of people the world passes by. Our calling is to recognise that work, to honour it, and to participate in it—trusting that in Christ, no life is unseen, and no question offered in faith is ever wasted. So, who in your community needs to be seen and recognised? Amen