Who Do You Say That I Am?

Matthew 16:13-20

12th Sunday After Pentecost ~ Lectionary 21

Who is Jesus?  The answer to this question depends upon when, where and whom you ask.  Your 10-year old self will answer differently than your 45-year old sel.  Someone in Tanzania may answer in a way unlike someone from London or New York, or Williamsburg.  For Muslims, Jesus is one of the greatest messengers of God.  Jews have respect for Jesus, but do not view him as the son of God.  Some people say Jesus was a good teacher, or simply a moral person.

When Jesus asked his disciples this question, they answered, “’Some say John the Baptist, but others Elijah, and still others Jeremiah or one of the prophets.’”  At the time, Jesus and his followers were in Caesarea Philippi, formerly known as Panias. It was in this place that the Canaanites built a sanctuary to their god Baal.  It had been the place of the Gate of Hades for pagans, and Greeks received revelations from their god Pan.  In this setting, Jesus’ question had theological implications.

But there were political implications, too. It came to be that the Romans replaced the Greeks in this region, and Herod the Great’s son, Herod Philip, became ruler.  To honor both the Roman emperor Caesar and himself, he changed the city’s name to Caesarea Philippi. This Roman government was an oppressive system.  Standing among reminders of other gods, and in the midst of Caesar and Herod’s domain, Jesus asked, “Who do people say that I am?”[1]

Jesus followed this question with another, “But who do you say that I am?”  Peter answered, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.”   The Roman emperors called themselves sons of gods, and the Hebrew term Messiah means “God’s anointed one,” the one who would set the oppressed people free.  Jesus patted Peter on the back and said, “Well done! You got it!”  That was true in that moment.   Only a short time later, Jesus will reveal that he is going to be tortured and killed, and Peter will question his confession. The question of who Jesus is got quite confusing.

 

“Who do you say that I am?” If someone were to ask you who you say Jesus is, or what you believe about Jesus, how would you answer? [2]  What do you tell your children, and your children’s children about Jesus?  Jesus’ question was more than a question about theology and doctrine.  What does your life and how you live it say about who Jesus is to you?

This matters now, in this time and this place, as much as it did when Jesus asked the disciples in Caesarea Philippi.  When Jesus asks us, “Who do you say that I am,” it is, in fact, an urgent question.  When we call ourselves Christians, what is it we are teaching others about Jesus through what we say and what we do? Who we say Jesus is determines who we are.  It establishes what we are willing to do, the risks we take, and the hope we have.  Maybe the real question is, “Are you in love with Jesus?”

The depth of our love for Jesus becomes evident not only in our relationship with him, but in our relationship with one another.  Our kindness, our spending, and how we use our time are all reflections of who Jesus is to us.  Our relationship with Jesus shows when we choose to stand with those who are victims of hate and violence, when we vote for justice, and speak for those who have no voice.  Every time we choose forgiveness over retribution and love over hate, we confess Christ.  Who we say Jesus is shapes every part of our lives.

But we are not perfect.  Like Peter, we will confess Jesus as Lord one day and deny him the next.  Like Peter, we mess up. Not all the time, and maybe not even most of the time.  But sometimes. Sometimes we stay silent when we should speak the truth that every person is equal in the eyes of God.  Sometimes we provide food, but don’t sit down at the table together.  When we don’t trust that God empowers us to do those things God tells us to do, or ail to call on God when we are afraid of the storm, we deny Christ.

Thank God that who Jesus is does not depend upon who we say he is. We give thanks that, for all those times that we do not confess Christ with our lives, Christ comes to us. Christ comes confessing who he is in the faces of beautiful children, and in the words of scripture.  Jesus comes to us in the wine and the bread, in his body and blood, in forgiveness, given for you.

~ Pastor Cheryl Ann Griffin

[1] I am indebted to Brian McLaren for his insights into the implications of the geographical location of this text.  See McLaren, Brian D.  We Make the Road by Walking.  New York:  Jericho Books, 2014.  116-124.

[2] Kolb, Robert and Wengert, Timothy J., eds. The Book of Concord.  Minneapolis:  Augsburg Fortress, 2000.  434.    What is it that Lutherans confess about Jesus?  Here’s how Luther answers that question in his explanation of the second article of the Apostle’s Creed:

I believe that Jesus Christ, true Son of God has become my Lord.” What is it “to become a lord”? It means that he has redeemed and released me from sin, from the devil, from death, and from all misfortune.  Before this I had no lord or king, bur was captive under the power of the devil.  I was condemned to death and entangled in sin and blindness. …[T]he little word ‘Lord’ simply means the same as Redeemer, that is, he who has brought us back from the devil to God, from death to life, from sin to righteousness, and keeps us there.

 

Author: Pastor Cheryl Griffin

Pastor Cheryl Ann Griffin thinks God has a sense of humor for leading her into ministry, but can’t imagine doing anything else! Pastor Griffin received her BA degree from the College of William and Mary. She worked as an accountant before God led her to the Lutheran Theological Seminary at Gettysburg, where she received her Master of Divinity degree. In the Virginia Synod, Pastor Griffin is a member of the Ministerium Team and frequently leads small groups at synod youth events. She is also a representative to the VA Synod Council.

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