Sunday, September 12 th , 2021 – 16 th Sunday After Pentecost
Philip’s Reflection: “But who do you say that I am?” (Mark 8:28)
Today’s text, from the Gospel of Mark, is set among the villages of Caesarea Philippi,
it’s a major Roman city, with a glistening white marble temple dedicated to the Emperor
Augustus, and Jesus has travelled again into Gentile territory, with the disciples, to
continue his teaching and healing ministry. It’s a very important moment in Mark’s
Gospel because it will be the first time that Jesus tells the disciples of what lies ahead –
of his rejection, suffering, death and resurrection. And we hear that, after speaking with
the disciples, he turns to the crowd and tells them that “If any want to become my
followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” And in
words that echo down the centuries, we hear these unsettling words – “For those who
want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the
sake of the gospel, will save it.”
But first I want us to hear again the questions that Jesus asks the disciples – “Who do
people say that I am?” he asks – “what are people saying about me” he might even
have said today, “how am I doing in the opinion polls” – and the disciples tell him what
he already knows of course – that some are comparing him to John the Baptist or even
to Elijah – as great as the greatest of the Jewish prophets, whose return would signal
the beginning of the end-times – that apocalyptic day described in the Book of Malachi
(4:5) as “that great and dreadful day of the Lord”.
And then, Jesus looks into the eyes of each of the disciples and he asks this piercing
question – “But who do you say that I am?”. And, as so often, like a small boy putting up
his hand at the front of a class, always it seems the first to respond, it’s Peter who
replies, “You are the Messiah” – “Su ei ho Christos”, You are the Christ (8:29). Mark
doesn’t tell us what Jesus’ reaction is – it’s the first time in the Gospel that he’s been
described as the “Messiah”. And I imagine there were a few moments of silence, while
the disciples wait for him to respond. In Matthew’s account of this meeting, Jesus
blesses Peter for revelation which came from “my Father in heaven” – and it’s on you,
Peter, the Rock, that I will build my church.” (Matt. 16:17-18). But all we get from the
reading today is that Jesus “sternly ordered them not to tell anyone about him.” (8:30).
Why? Because, if known to the political and religious authorities, the claim that Jesus is
the Messiah would be viewed as highly subversive – in Judaism, the Messiah, the
Anointed One, is a saviour and liberator, the expected king of the Davidic line, who
would deliver Israel from bondage, he would sweep away the Roman occupying forces
and restore the glories of the former age. Peter’s “Messiah” is a divine deliverer,
someone who would reclaim Israel’s supremacy, and usher in a period of peace and
justice. So when Jesus goes on to tell the disciples that the Son of Man will suffer and
be killed, no wonder Peter is horrified – and we’re told that he “took Jesus aside and
began to rebuke him.” Jesus, are you crazy – we think of you as the Messiah, our
saviour, our conquering hero. And here you are telling your closest friends you’re a
loser – that you’re going to be killed – not by the Roman occupiers but by our own
people, the Jewish elders, chief priests and scribes. Are you out of your mind?
And in some of the harshest language in the entire New Testament, Jesus turns to the
disciples and publicly tears a strip off Peter “Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting
your mind not on divine things but on human things” – you’re thinking only of yourself
and human ambitions. You may not be aware of it but, by challenging my mission, one
that will lead to suffering and death, you’re undermining God’s purpose: you’re doing
Satan’s work, just as Satan tried to tempt me in the desert. Get behind me, Satan!
We can surely identify with Peter’s shock and humiliation - because his profession of
Jesus as Messiah reveals an astonishing faith: wouldn’t you have felt crushed?
Friends, “who do you say that Jesus is?”. It’s a very personal question, at the heart of
our faith. But although it’s a personal question, it’s not a private question – because we
are called to profess our faith – particularly when we’re preparing for ordination into the
ministry of Word, Sacrament and Pastoral Care. And we must first acknowledge that
we’re responding from a very different place from that small group of itinerant followers
in the dusty villages near Caesarea Philippi. But, even more important than place, is
that, unlike the early disciples, we know how the story will end – we know that Jesus will
be crucified and abandoned, betrayed and denied, even by Peter. And unlike Peter and
the disciples that day, we know that “death is not the last word. [For] God raised Jesus
from death, turning sorrow into joy, despair into hope.” (Song of Faith, United Church of
Canada).
And you, Philip, who do you say I am? And I answer, Lord, for as long as I can
remember you have been a constant presence in my life – yes, sometimes more
present than at other times – but then it is I who have been distant, not you. When I am
lost, or have lost my way, you are my shepherd. In loneliness, you are my companion.
In grief, you are my comforter. In my sinfulness, you are my redeemer. In my fear, you
are my strength. In my unknowing, you are my teacher. And for the many moments of
joy in my life, I give you thanks and praise. And since today is the day we celebrate
Grandparents, I credit my own grandparents with many of these images which, perhaps
like you, I was introduced to in my childhood. But they are not childish images – if
anything they have become more real, not less, during the course of my life.
Taken together, they allow me to answer this way – and perhaps you will answer the
same way - Jesus, you are my Lord and Saviour, the Son of the living God, for you
reveal God’s way with the world. As Jesus of Nazareth, in your compassion, your
healing, your challenging of injustice, your love of neighbor, you reveal the face of God;
and in your death and resurrection, as Jesus Christ, you show us that God overcomes
death, and that nothing – not even death – can separate us from God’s love.
But a profession of faith of this kind is only half the story isn’t it? Because, as heard
earlier, after talking with the disciples, Jesus turns and addresses the crowd and he
invites “any” who want, to follow him – the way is open to all – the only way you’re really
going to get to know him is by joining him, following him. And the way to follow him, in
his own words, is through self-denial and cross-bearing.
Self-denial – the denial of one’s own interests and needs – voluntarily placing the needs
of the other ahead of our own. It doesn’t mean punishing ourselves or seeking or
embracing self-abuse or victimization – all of Jesus’ healing ministry is opposed to any
form of suffering or oppression. One of my mentors, Dr. Sallie McFague, explains self-
denial as “voluntary restraint” of making doing with less, so that others, with greater
needs, may have more. Jesus isn’t making an impossible demand or calling for heroic
measures. And we shouldn’t be surprised that this same understanding of self-denial,
self-restraint, is a common theme in all the great traditions –the Dalai Lama refers to it
as doing “as much as we can”. Confucius puts it this way – “it doesn’t matter how slow
you go, as long as you don’t stop.” That’s what Jesus means, I believe, by “losing your
life to save it” – it’s voluntarily taking steps to do more with less, even if they are small
steps. We all know the feeling, when our lives seem almost out of control with all the
demands on our time and attention, that “less is more”.
And then there’s this “taking up our cross” – cross bearing – in Jesus’ time the ultimate
symbol of rejection and suffering. As thoughtful people, we take the Bible seriously but
not literally – even if crucifixion may seem his own inevitable destiny – Jesus tells the
crowd that any who follow him must be prepared to accept the consequences, whatever
they may be. And the same is true for us too, following Jesus, cruciform life, following in
the way of Jesus, is a risky proposition that has unpredictable consequences: losing
control over our own destinies, yes – changing direction, going places we may prefer
not to go, in the company of people we might not have chosen to travel with, so that
others may experience God’s love that is revealed in Jesus Christ.
Yes, these are personal questions, but they are not private ones. Following Jesus isn’t
something we do just between 10 and 11 on a Sunday morning. And so, in the week
ahead, please stop and think about the question that Jesus asked the disciples – “who
do you say Jesus is” – and what does self-denial and cross-bearing mean for you? And
as you pray for God’s guidance, try to move from your head to your heart, as I try to do,
not always successfully, so that it becomes a statement not only of who Jesus is, but of
who you are, an answer that you can live your life by. May it be so.
Amen.