Year B,
Pentecost 17 Mark 8:27-38
Who do people say that I am? Compared to most questions that Jesus asks his
disciples (or anyone for that matter), that was a fairly easy one. The disciples were quick to chime in on who
other people said he was. They had probably been dying to tell him what people
were saying, “Some people think you are John the Baptist—back from the dead!
Others think you are Elijah who never actually died, so that seems like a
better possibility. Or you know, you
could be any prophet, maybe a brand new prophet.”
Of course Jesus knew all the rumors—so then came the
real question, “Who do you say that I am?”
This time only one person chimed in—Peter. Remember, this was kind of
Peter’s thing. He was eager and earnest,
the first one to raise his hand, but not always the first person to think
through his answer. He answered, “You
are the Messiah.” Now, we are used to
that title for Jesus. It just kind of
rolls off the tongue for us, but this was a bit of a wild card response at this
point in the Gospel of Mark. While Jesus
has healed people, fed thousands and put some religious leaders in their place,
calling him the Messiah was a leap.
The
Jewish concept of the Messiah was multifaceted and complex, as we can see from
our reading in Isaiah. But for the sake
of a 12 minute sermon, I will provide a broad generalization. The Messiah was
expected (by most) to be a strong political leader who would oversee a
significant change in the world order.
At the time, many Jews thought that the Messiah would help them overthrow
Rome who was occupying Israel at the time.
However, what we see time and
time again from Jesus, was a resistance toward any kind of political
leadership. In the Gospel of John, the
author explicitly says that they tried to take him by force to make him king and
he slipped away. He didn’t want to be a political leader. He wanted to save
people, but not that way. He would not
do anything by force. Thus Peter declaring him to be the Messiah probably
surprised the other disciples.
Peter,
even with his tendency to stick his foot in his mouth and speak before
thinking—saw something in Jesus that many others didn’t. He saw this man was more than just a miracle
worker or a prophet. He was someone who
would change the world. We see a
slightly different version of this story in the Gospel of Matthew. In that version, Jesus praised Peter for this
revelation and told him that he would be the rock on which he built his church,
which makes this next interaction with Peter that much more bizarre.
As
soon as Peter confirmed Jesus as the Messiah, Jesus started talking about how
the Son of Man would have to suffer, be rejected, be killed and then on the 3rd
day rise again. At this point, Peter
took him to the side and rebuked him.
Rebuke is a strong word, especially in Mark. Typically, it is demons who
are rebuked. So right after Peter is
commended for recognizing Jesus as the Messiah, he is rebuking that Messiah
because he doesn’t like what he’s hearing.
In turn, Jesus tells him, “Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting
your mind not on divine things but on human things.”
Since
we rarely talk about Satan in the Episcopal Church, I want to stop here for a
moment. When we hear the term Satan,
it’s easy to get distracted by that visual of the man in the red suit with
horns and a tail. Instead, let’s focus
on what Satan does in the Gospels. Satan
tempts. Satan is an adversary. Here Jesus is not telling Peter that he is
the prince of darkness and the epitome of all that is evil. He’s telling him that he’s tempting him and
contradicting him.
While Peter seemed to get the right answer about who
Jesus was when he declared him to be the Messiah, he didn’t quite understand
the distinction between the kind of Messiah Jesus was and the Messiah most
people expected and wanted. He wanted
the powerful Messiah who would crush the enemy and lead his people to
victory. He didn’t want the suffering
messiah, the one who is killed by the very people he is supposed to
defeat.
While Jesus understood that this was his path and had
accepted it, I doubt that was what he wanted.
We know this because later in the Gospel, Jesus begged God to “take this
cup away” from him. He didn’t want to be
crucified. Jesus was not one to take the easy way, but I imagine he would have
been open to an easier way if that had been God’s will. That’s why he was so angry at Peter, because
Peter was trying to tell him, there was another way, a way where he could be
the powerful messiah who did not have to suffer.
That
is what most leaders want. They want
power, but without the suffering or sacrificing. One of the buzz words (or
phrases) that we have been hearing a lot about recently is Christian
Nationalism. Frankly, I am not sure that
a lot of people know what they mean when they say it and I fear it’s been
weaponized in ways that are not helpful.
I personally can’t separate my faith from who I am when I am talking
about politics or voting. I think there
should be a place for our faith in our nation. What concerns me is when people
act like Christianity should have a place of privilege in our nation. It did
for a very long time…but here’s why I have a problem with those who want to
bring that privilege place back. Our
Christian faith is not supposed to be about power and privilege. Our Messiah
was killed on a cross by the people in power.
Jesus
said, “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. For what will it profit them to gain the
whole world and forfeit their life?” Does that sound like Jesus was trying to
create a faith for powerful and important people? Christianity was built on
death, loss and sacrificial love. When
Jesus was killed by the Romans, they thought he was a failure. Even after he rose again, he didn’t hold a
massive rally where he announced his victory and celebrated. He appeared to a small group of disciples and
empowered them to spread the Gospel message.
Does
that mean we should pretend that our faith isn’t important? Does that mean we should compartmentalize our
faith or make it so tepid that it can’t possibly have a place in this nation
and world? Of course not. Our faith. Our
God—is everything. But the power of
our faith is not in prestige or dominance.
It’s in the lives that it can change, the love that can be shared, the
transformation it can bring. That
question that Jesus asked his disciples is the same question we must ask
ourselves today. Who is Jesus to you? We
get so bent out of shape on how others are misrepresenting Jesus, we forget to
consider who he is to us and what we are doing to help others know this Jesus,
the Messiah, the Savior who we believe in.
I
hear outside tour guides sometimes describe Christ Church as “the nation’s
church” and I don’t really feel comfortable with that. This is God’s Church. We are in God’s church. It belongs to no nation. We belong to God.