Exodus 18 - 210
Psalm 124
Romans 121-8
Matthew 1613-20
"But who do you say that I am?"
Self-image has become very important in our present society. Any major book store or library has shelf after shelf of books on how to improve your self image. If we serve as a sounding board or an amateur psychologist for one of our friends, we ask him or her, “HOW DO YOU SEE YOURSELF?” But in keeping with Jewish tradition, Jesus turns this question around. At a key point in his ministry, he asks the core group of disciples not "How do you see yourselves?", but rather “How do you see me?” (Matt 16 13-15). The answer defines not only Jesus, but also the person who responds.
For the person in the street, Jesus was perhaps a resuscitated John the Baptist, an Elijah, a Jeremiah, or one of the prophets (Matt 1614). Prophecy seemed to have died with the passing of Malachi. But this new prophetic teacher was a hopeful sign that the Messianic order was upon them. Maybe there would be a general outpouring of prophesy, or maybe Elijah himself would be back. John the Baptist had seemed something of a prophet, but he was not the promised one. They needed someone from that select group who had already won immortality, a warrior king who could lead the faithful remnant of God’s people in a nuclear-like Armageddon against the Roman infidels. Jerusalem might be destroyed in the process, and even the Mount of Olives split in two (Zechariah 14 2-4). But the prophet Malachi had promised “I will send you Elijah before the great and terrible day” (Mal 4 1).
So Jesus turns to Peter, and asks “How do YOU see me?” (Matt 16 15-16). Peter answers “You are the Christ”. We interpret these words in the context of 20 Centuries of Christian history. But Peter’s thinking may have been just one step ahead of the person in the street. For Peter, THE Christ was THE Prophet or THE Messiah, the leader who had been promised throughout the Old Testament: a legitimate ruler, a leader whose political ambitions had been symbolized by an anointing ceremony, real or assumed. Professor Northrop Frye points out that the word “Messiah” was used to describe not only the rejected King Saul, but even Cyrus of Persia (Isaiah 45 1). But the Maccabean rebellions had renewed the search for this elusive Messiah, a timeless, eschatalogical figure who would close the page on current history books, and restore the ancient power of Israel.
Matthew puts words into Peter’s mouth: “You are the Son of the Living God.” This is typical of his gospel. Matthew’s tempter uses the same language in the wilderness: “If you are the Son of God, command these stones that they be made into bread” (Matt 4 3), and he has the disciples join a similar chorus when Jesus stills the storm on the Lake of Galilee (Matt 14 33). But in the earlier and less embellished gospel of Mark, Peter says very simply “You are the Christ”. So, in making this declaration, Peter may be defining himself as one of the Freedom Fighters. Our Old Testament reminds us that the oppression of the Jewish people dates back to the time of the Pharaohs. The death of Joseph left those living in the Nile delta with the dubious status of “Gästarbeitern”, immigrant slave-labourers who could be exploited, half-starved and worked to death, with a Nazi-style “final solution” awaiting their offspring (Ex 1 8-22). And in the time of Jesus, the Jews faced a similar fate, unless a strong leader, a new Moses, could be found to deliver the current generation from their misery and servitude. The Macabbean victories gave a new twist to this Messianic hope, reminiscent of the nuclear philosophies of some fundamentalist churches today. Perhaps THE Christ would be powerful enough to wage a destructive, mother of all wars, ending history, but bringing victory to a faithful remnant of the Jewish people. And Peter saw himself in the front lines of that struggle.
Jesus rarely told people how he saw himself.
He was an enigma, and seems to have assumed that he should be. When
the followers of John the Baptist asked whether he was the apocalyptic
Lord of Zechariah (Zech 14) and Malachi (Mal
3 1-3), all he said was “tell John
the blind receive their sight and the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed,
the deaf hear, the dead are raised up, and the poor have the good news
preached to them” (Matt 11 5). Pilate asked Jesus “Are
you the King of the Jews?” (Matt 27 11), and Jesus merely replied
“If you say so”. “But I came into the world to bear witness to the
truth” (John
18 37). “My Kingdom is not
of this world.” Clues to the self-concept of Jesus come mainly from
his actions rather than his words. He told the Sabbath crowd in the
synagogue “A prophet is not without honour, save in his own country”
(Matt 13 57). And on Palm Sunday, when he entered Jerusalem
astride a humble donkey, he cast himself in the role of Zechariah’s just
and lowly king (Zech 9
9). He saw history as ending when
master and servant became one and the same person. Jesus always distanced
himself from a triumphalist vision. In the conversation we have read
today, he rebuked Peter (who was unwilling to accept a tragic ending to
his ministry (Matt 16 22-23). And as he faced arrest in
the Garden of Gethsemane, he told Peter “All that take the sword shall
perish by the sword” (Matt 26 52).
Let us look now at how Jesus responded to Peter's confession. “You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church” (Matt 16 18). Jesus seems to have been making some sort of a pun. “You are Peter, and on this Petra or rock I will build my church” We might put it “Simon, you’re as tough as a rock, so I’m going to call you Rocky”. Catholic scholars have ound an endorsement of the papacy in this statement. Peter and his successors were anointed to an authoritative role in the new church. Like the Jewish Rabbis, they could tie and untie, excommunicating dissident members (and in the Middle ages even torturing and burning those who disagreed with them). At the opposite end of the ecclesiastic spectrum, ultra-protestant churches have seen a very public confession of Christ as the essential foundation of faith. In the distant days of my youth, I was associated with a relatively small sect known as the Disciples of Christ. One of the main features of our otherwise rather bleak sanctuary was a beautiful open marble baptistery. Anyone joining that congregation participated in an hour-long ceremony that included a public declaration of faith, followed by total immersion. So, we didn’t get too many casual members in that church.
The recent discussion of remits by our Squamish congregation reminds us that it is much easier to share in our fellowship. Over the 77 years since the Act of Union, even the distinctions between adherent, member and full member have become somewhat blurred. There are arguments both for and against easy access to the church. It may be good that those who sympathize with the aims and objectives of this congregation can ally themselves with us, without having to give public assent to a long list of doctrines. When I was at University, the Varsity Christian Fellowship required its members to accept all 39 articles of the Anglican church. I found this difficult to do, and so I never joined the organization, although I sympathized with many of its objectives. But whether we are casual adherents or deeply committed members, we cannot escape the searching question of Jesus “Who do YOU say that I am?” And in responding, we define not only Christ, but also ourselves. We could mouth some familiar phrase or metaphor- Christ is the good shepherd, the tree of life, the bread of life, the cup of salvation, the Messiah, the Son of God. But we need to look further, to a meaning that will allow us to become a rock on which Christ can continue to build his church.
Jesus may have been thinking of the rock as a place where God could bring forth life-giving water, as in the desert of Horeb (Ex 17 6), and as Malachi predicted would happen when the Mount of Olives was split in two. But what about this idea of building a church on our confession? In the time of our Lord, a church or ecclesia (ekklesia) was not a square building with ten rows of pews, a communion table and a cross. Rather, it was an elect community, such as the remnant that Moses led through the wilderness. The Essenes of Qum Raan and the Dead Sea scrolls saw themselves as a church, a faithful remnant of the people of Israel. So, Jesus was not suggesting that Peter’s confession would lead to the building of a towering physical structure, or a powerful ecclesiastical hierarchy- he was seeking commitment to a timeless messianic community where people could find nourishment as masters became servants.
Jesus may also have thought of Abraham, the person whom many Israelites regarded as “the rock from which we are hewn” (Isaiah 51 1). One commentary in the Midrash says “God is like unto a king who wished to build himself a house. He digged and digged, but in each place water sprang up and destroyed the foundation he had dug” (It sounds like a combination of downtown Squamish and the Elbe valley of Eastern Germany!). “At last, he chanced to dig where deep down he came upon a rock. Then He said ‘Here will I build’. In like manner, God, wishing to create the world, looked out upon the generations of Enoch that would be, and that of the flood, and said ‘How can I make a world out of such sinners, who will people it with those who will annoy me?’ But when he saw Abraham, he said “Ah, here is a rock upon whom I can found a world”” (Yalkut Shimoni 1 766).
Sometimes, Jesus must have despaired of building his kingdom on the commitment of people like Peter. Just seven verses after his confession of faith, Jesus is telling Peter he is one of the people sent to annoy him (Matt 16 23). “You are an offence to me” Maybe we should translate the Greek word Skandalon (skandalon) as “an obstacle” rather than "an offence"- Peter was the sort of rock that needed dynamiting before construction could begin! Peter was still defining himself in human terms. His words were bold and impetuous, but there was not too much back-up in the form of deeds. Nevertheless, Jesus could see Peter transformed into the sort of rock he needed, a person who would stand firm in the face of lions and wayside crucifixions- the sort of person who would not be ashamed to own his Lord as a suffering servant, himself dying a painful death on a cross.
Like Peter, we must grow in understanding as we confess Jesus as our Saviour. Too often, we have a triumphalist vision. We see a glorious role for ourcommunity: the armies of Charlemagne, forcibly converting every pagan in sight; the controlling hierarchies of the papacy and of Bloor Street West; Protestant missionaries winning the world for Christ in a single generation; Canadian churches investing billions of dollars in bricks and mortar during the heady years of the '60s and '70s.
But Jesus asks that we see ourselves very differently. The end of the age will not bring the hollow victories of a war on terrorism or a towering United Church on every street corner. Deliverance will come from the babe in the bullrushes and the infant in the manger. We must redefine ourselves, to fit a kingdom where actions count louder than words, and where master and servant become one. If we are to share in this ageless community, we must be prepared for defeat by the mighty of current society. “Whosoever will save his life shall lose it” (Matt 16 25).
Jesus is not asking to believe in a complicated theology or an ecclesiastical hierarchy. But he is asking US for more than a casual commitment. As Paul puts it in his epistle to the church in Rome, we must be “transformed” until we are willing to become a “Living sacrifice” (Rom 12 1), until we can offer ALL of our varied talents humbly and cooperatively to the building of the Messianic community here in Squamish. May God grant us the wisdom to follow this path. And like Peter, may we find the courage to grow to a rock-like strength, even after we have failed our Lord. AMEN.