Mark 8:27-38
Jesus went on with his disciples to the villages of
Caesarea Philippi; and on the way he asked his disciples, "Who do people
say that I am?" And they answered him, "John the Baptist; and others,
Elijah; and still others, one of the prophets." He asked them, "But
who do you say that I am?" Peter answered him, "You are the
Messiah." And he sternly ordered them not to tell anyone about him.
Then he began to teach them that the Son of Man must
undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and
the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again. He said all this
quite openly. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. But turning and
looking at his disciples, he rebuked Peter and said, "Get behind me,
Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human
things."
He called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them,
"If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up
their cross and follow me. 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? Indeed, what can they give in return for their life? Those who are ashamed
of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son
of Man will also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the
holy angels."
This is the Word of the Lord.
Jesus and his disciples are at a crossroads. No, I’m not
speaking of the dusty road there in Caesarea Philippi, in the far reaches of
the Judean province.
What we are eavesdropping on isn’t idle conversation
between fellow travelers, you see. Through translation and millennia of
cultural shifts, we’ve lost the passion, intensity and conflict swirling around
that ragtag band of disciples kicking up the dust as they walked with Jesus
that day.
Perhaps it starts mildly enough. Jesus asks his disciples
what they’ve heard people saying about him – what identity are they giving him?
The answers are safe and sensible enough. Much of what Jesus has said and done –
calls to repentance, healings, meals served in the wilderness – readily calls
to mind John the Baptist or Elijah or one of the prophets.
It’s only when Jesus brings the question closer to home that
things get really interesting - “But who do you say that I am?”
We’ve talked before about how the Jewish people in the
first century were hoping for, praying for, seeking a Messiah, a Christ. And
while today you and I readily identify Jesus of Nazareth as that long-awaited
Messiah, Jesus hasn’t done anything that would look remotely like a Messiah to
the people of his day. Jesus was a healer, a prophet, and someone who could do
might signs and wonders, yes, but the expectation for the Messiah was that he
would come to purify society, reestablish Israel's supremacy among the nations,
and usher in a new era of peace and holiness.
So when Peter answers Jesus’ question, it’s not a
declaration of what he, and the other disciples have seen, but of what they
expect… and they’ve got it all wrong.
One of the commentators I read this week in preparation for
this sermon suggests that the translators of the New Testament got it wrong,
too, when they characterized Jesus’ response. Our reading says that Jesus “sternly
ordered them not to tell anyone about him.”
Funny thing is, in the original Greek, the word for “sternly
ordered” is the same one for when Peter pulls Jesus aside and begins to rebuke
him… so perhaps what Jesus did there was (and I am using Rev. Mark Davis’
translation of the Greed here) “rebuked them in order that they would say
nothing about him.”
So if that’s so, it wasn’t that Jesus was trying to keep who
he really was (and is) a secret, but
that he wanted to stop them from spreading wrong information! It isn’t that
Jesus is not the Messiah, the Christ, it’s that how they define what those words mean is dangerously wrong!
And here is the crossroads I am talking about. The
disciples are expecting a glorious earthly kingdom, a re-established and even
more powerful Israel, the beacon of righteousness and Godly purity on earth,
farther-reaching and even more powerful than the Roman Empire, which of course
would cease to exist when the throne of David was restored with Jesus on it
But the road that Jesus walks goes in a different direction
– straight to Jerusalem, and straight to a cross.
Jesus and Peter are on different roads, going different
directions. In this sense, Peter and the others are not really followers of
Jesus, not yet. They are followers of their own fantasies – fantasies of
justice, peace, and the glory of God, to be sure, but when balanced against the
hard reality of Jesus’ path – where the Kingdom is gained not through conquest
and subjugation, but through the obedience and suffering and the death of its
very King.
That’s why Peter argues – rebukes – Jesus, because in Peter’s
eyes, Jesus has it all wrong, and the idea that a triumphant, conquering king,
someone destined to sit on David’s throne, would do something as vile and embarrassing
and permanent as dying on a cross was
ludicrous! Dude, get your facts
straight! You’re gonna be King, man, you’re gonna re-establish the Kingdom of Israel,
baby, Israel 2.0, bigger better and badder than anything ever!
Peter’s road is attractive, even to Jesus – that is why
Jesus calls him Satan, because wasn’t that one of the temptations Jesus endured
in the wilderness? Matthew four, eight through ten: “Again,
the devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of
the world and their splendor. ‘All this I will
give you’ he said, ‘if you will bow down and worship me.’
“Jesus said to him, ‘Away from me, Satan! For it is written: ‘Worship the Lord your God,
and serve him only.”’
Peter’s road is attractive, bright and
shiny, but that’s just glitter. It rubs off, and the road leads nowhere. Peter’s
road, as glorious as it seems, is one where the self is ultimately glorified: that
throne of David, with Jesus on it, has just slightly smaller thrones right next
to it, you see… that’s why so many times in the Gospels we see the disciples
locked in arguments over who will be the greatest in that coming kingdom,
because proximity is power, and to the self, things like power and influence,
along with safety and comfort, are of supreme importance. So yes, Jesus can be
king, but he better make doggone sure that I am right there next to him to
advise him, y’see. I can be the assistant king… yeah, I like that.
But earthly thrones, no matter who
establishes them, no matter how large an empire they rest upon, eventually topple
and are replaced, because unlike things like love and grace, power is a
commodity, and there’s only so much of it to go around… and there is always
someone else wanting it. The Roman Empire fell, just so many empires and
kingdoms before it and since.
Peter’s road leads nowhere.
It is Jesus, not Peter, which the disciples
– and we – must follow. The formula sounds very simple, especially when taken
out of its context. We hear it all the time: “If any want to become my
followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.”
Taken out of the fullness of its context, denial of self is
nothing more than another way to walk Peter’s road: self-glorification. People
can do this kind of denying themselves even without Jesus, and we do it all the
time: deciding to forego an enjoyable meal or a new shirt in order to put some
money in savings, diet and exercise… even at extremes like vows of poverty, one
doesn’t necessarily need God in order to have very good reasons to do them, you
see? And even if Peter’s road has a concept of Godliness at the end, it is a
Godliness achieved with no actual help or direction from God; rather it is a
godliness we attain under our own power.
The denial of self that Jesus speaks of is deeper – it extends
well beyond mere self-discipline. Quoting Matt Skinner, Associate Professor of
New Testament at Luther Seminary here, “…[I]ndeed, it calls every would-be follower
no longer to live on one’s own behalf and to forsake that which would promise
security for oneself… [T]he self-denial that Jesus proclaims involves the
renunciation of any obligation to oneself. In Eduard Schweizer’s words, “It
indicates a freedom in which one no longer wills to recognize his own ‘I.’…
A life of self-denial transcends merely advertising one’s posture as an
obnoxious boast. More profoundly, one who follows Jesus continually enacts
self-denial through living without regard for the security and priorities that
people naturally cling to and that our society actively promotes as paramount.
This enactment is not a matter of private piety but of public testimony, for
the refusal of a certain way of living directly impinges upon one’s political
identity and possibilities.”
The denial of self, the taking up of the cross – our own
cross, and to the first-century person who heard or read these words, there was
no confusion about what that meant – well, were it not for the call to follow
Jesus, we would be talking about nothing less than self-annihilation.
But we are called to follow Jesus. Isn’t it interesting
that, in this and subsequent passages, as Jesus reveals more about who he is,
he at the same time describes what it means to participate with him?
Do you want to know who Jesus is? Follow him. Remember, it’s
a way that is open to anyone. What’s the proper response to the truth that Jesus
is God’s Anointed? Following him. And remember that we do not follow Jesus by
ourselves. Part and parcel of the self-denial that Jesus calls for means that
we are defined by our community, the Body of Christ, the now-and-coming Kingdom
of Heaven.
Peter’s road is beautiful, but Peter’s road leads nowhere.
Jesus’ road is the Way of the Cross… but, to quote the old
hymn, the Way of the Cross leads home.
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