In the name of God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.
Amen.
This
section of Mark that we just heard is often referred to as the “turning point”
in the gospel. Up to this point, Jesus has been traveling throughout the
Galilee region of Israel, while casting out demons and healing the sick, both
of which are signs of the coming of the Kingdom of God. The second half of Mark
tells the story of the events that will lead to Jesus’ execution in Jerusalem.
These verses today are the fulcrum on which the whole story pivots.
To
understand why this passage is so significant, we have to understand the
context of the passage. Mark tells us that this takes place at Caesarea
Philippi. As the name suggests, this was a city dedicated to imperial Roman
rule, and specifically to Caesar and to Herod’s son, Phillip. This location was
also the site of a temple that was dedicated to Greek gods. Three years ago, I
made a trip to Israel and visited this site. There is a large spring of water
in front of a huge cave. Above the entrance to the cave, in Jesus’ time, there
would have been statues of gods in niches, keeping a watchful eye over those who
pass by. So when Jesus asks that pivotal question “Who do you say that I am?”
he’s asking it in a contextually charged environment. The question of identity
comes at a placed named for Roman power and in the shadows of Greek gods. It’s
somewhat analogous to the McCarthy hearings of the 1950s or wearing Carolina
blue in Cameron Indoor.
In
this place dedicated to Caesar and adorned with the gods of the Empire, it
would have been treasonous to proclaim that Jesus, or anyone else, was the
Messiah. So the question “Who do you say that I am?” takes on even greater
significance given the context. It is one thing to say that Jesus is the Messiah,
it is something else to proclaim it over and against the Roman imperial
religion which claimed that “Caesar is Lord.”
Before diving into the text, I want to stay
focused on the location of this passage. This story took place in a politically
charged location, and it remains a contentious place. This passage takes place
in a city called Banias; a city in the Golan Heights, which is in modern-day
Syria, but has been occupied by Israel in 1981. In the recent weeks, we’ve come
to more fully see some of the devastation to the human family caused by Bashar
al-Assad and the Islamic State through the Syrian Civil War. The news has been
full of heart-wrenching stories about the millions of Syrian refugees that are
fleeing to Europe. Three million Syrians have fled the country and another 6.5
million are still within Syria’s borders, but are refugees in their own nation,
as their hometowns have been overrun with violence. This is a humanitarian
crisis of epic proportions.
It was the photo of a
three-year old Syrian refugee’s body lying on a beach that awakened the world
to the horrors of what is happening. You don’t put your family in mortal danger
by placing them in a small inflatable boat if the dangers behind you aren’t
greater than a perilous trip across the sea. The evils going on in Syria are
beyond comprehension, and the world’s blind eye to the crisis has been not much
better. I bring this all up because our Gospel passage takes place in Syria,
and this crisis is worth of our attention and action.
So the question is “how
can we help?” The Episcopal Church has an Office for Migration Ministries, and
they are recommending a few things to Episcopalians who want to help. They
suggest supporting local resettlement partners. In North Carolina, The
Episcopal Church partners with Interfaith Refugee Ministry, so you can support
their work. Another suggestion is to petition President Obama and Congress to accept
more refugees from Syria and provide them with asylum. And we can pray for
peace in Syria and we can pray for the plight of the millions of refugees. Ours
is a faith of refugees: Abraham left his home and went to a foreign land; Moses
and the Hebrew fled Egypt and were refugees for a generation; and Jesus fled
Israel as an infant under the threat of persecution. To care for those in need
it to care for God. And we also can offer prayers of confession, as lines are
clearer than we’d like to acknowledge between our nations actions in the Middle
East and the perpetual state of turmoil that exists there. The gospel’s
location beckons us to respond with Gospel compassion to Syrian refugees.
Turning back to the
reading, there are three important questions that are asked, and we would do
well to consider them – both as they apply to Jesus and ourselves. The first
question is “Who do people say that I am?” The second is “Who do you say that I
am?” And the third isn’t actually in the text, but the question “Who does God
say that I am?” is implied.
First,
“Who do people say that I am?” The
disciples say “John the Baptist, Elijah, or one of the prophets.” Maybe that
wasn’t the answer that Jesus was looking for, but those are still rather
appalling claims. There hadn’t been a true prophet in Israel for hundreds of
years. That people thought Jesus belonged in the company of the prophets is a
clear sign that everyone knew there was something special about him.
It has been said that how
you interpret and read the Bible says more about you than it does God. And I
think there is some truth to that assessment. The Gospel are a mirror of sorts,
so when we hold this passage up in front of ourselves, we are invited to ask
the question “Who do people say that I am?” Ours is a culture that is extremely
self-conscious. Thanks to social media and smartphone cameras, there is very
little that happens in the private sphere. In a sense, we are all celebrities,
in that through the internet, we all have a captive audience who will give us
our fifteen minutes of fame if we are willing to be outrageous enough to grab
their attention. So we worry about our digital reputation and our profile
pictures. If you aren’t that into technology and don’t know what I’m talking
about, be thankful; but that doesn’t mean you are immune from the problem.
In 1975, Harper’s magazine wrote about the new
wave of narcissism that was showing up in American culture, and it has only
increased since then. We spend a lot of time pondering that question “Who do
people say that I am?” We should take what people say about us with a grain of
salt, but we shouldn’t disregard it. We are not defined by what others think of
us, just as Jesus wasn’t fully defined by the identities that people assigned
to him. What others say about us though is a helpful lens for our own
self-examination. There are aspects of our lives that are in our blind spots
due to ego or denial. Being closed off to reality is never a good thing. Let
others give you insight into who you are, but don’t let them define you.
The next question is “Who
do you say that I am?” And Peter responds to Jesus’ question by saying “You are
the Messiah.” Again, given the geopolitical setting, this is a profound
confession of faith. The word “Messiah” is christos
in the Greek text, and this is the first time since the introductory verse of
Mark that this word is used. That’s part of what makes this passage the fulcrum
of Mark. From this point on, we get more and more evidence that Jesus is the
Christ. Christ, or Messiah, is a word that means a lot of things, depending on
your situation. For some, the Messiah would be the liberator from Roman
oppression. Others saw the Messiah as the one would usher in armies of God to
bring about the Messianic age of peace and harmony. And as we ultimately saw in
Jesus, sometimes the Messiah is the one who stands in solidarity with us in the
midst of suffering and opens new life to us.
The entire gospel
according to Mark shifts once the confession that “Jesus is the Messiah” is
made. I know this sounds like something you thought you’d hear at a
tent-revival before you thought you’d hear in an Episcopal church, but the same
is true in your life. The moment that, in front of the powers and other false
gods of your life, that you confess that Jesus is the Messiah, your life will
change too. Sure, you’ll still have a mortgage, and a job, and a family, but
your life will have a trajectory that ends with a crucifixion and a
Resurrection. You will start to realize the truth in Jesus’ 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.” Personal gain won’t matter
nearly as much as peacemaking; climbing the corporate ladder isn’t as important
has having time for family and friends; winning becomes secondary to being
together. And through that dying to selfishness, we encounter the great
reversal of the Gospel salvation – that when we live for love, not even death
can take that away. Confessing that Jesus is Messiah is a life-altering
confession.
Once you make that
confession and look into the mirror, you answer the question “Who do you say
that I am?” differently. What do you think about yourself? We are, often, our
own harshest critics. Very few people are comfortable watching themselves on
video and we can rattle off our own flaws even faster than our worst enemies
can. Once we realize that we are judged, not by productivity, or salary, or
appearances, or eloquence, or the length of our résumé, or the color of our
skin, but instead are already the beloved of God, then things change. Having
Jesus as our Messiah means that we measure ourselves differently, and more
compassionately. When you think about yourself, remember, you are the beloved
of God.
The last question to
consider is “Who does God say that I am?” Jesus didn’t directly ask this
question, but it is implied in the dialogue with Peter about the role of the
Messiah. Peter got the title correct, but still missed the meaning. As God said
through the Prophet Isaiah, “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor your
ways my ways, says the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so
are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts.” The
Messiah was not a conqueror, but one who stands in solidarity with those who
are conquered. The Messiah was not a military leader, but one who gives us an
alternative to violence. The Messiah was not one to overthrow with force, but
to redeem with love and mercy. This is a reminder to us that God is always
bigger than we expected.
And when we hold this
question up as a mirror, we can ask “Who does God say that I am?” I’ve already
mentioned that you are a beloved child of God, but there’s more to it than
that. God loves you because you are a child of God, but that’s generic. God
also loves you because you are unique. St. Augustine is reported to have said
that “God loves each of us as if there was no one else to love, and all of us
as if we were but one.” Spending some time in prayer, and especially silent
prayer, might be a good way to become more aware of God’s unique love for you.
And you are also a part of God’s dream. Each of
you has a skill, a talent, a passion for something that will help to transform
the nightmares of this world into the dream of God. Whether it is working at
Habitat, volunteering with the Youth Group or Young Families, working at Rowan
Helping Ministries, or supporting the refugees of Syria, God trusts you and
sees you as a part of God’s hope for this world. So while you’re praying, pray
for the knowledge and support to live into your call to be a part of God’s
dream.
This gospel passage
presents us with three very important questions about Jesus that shape our
faith, and questions to pose to ourselves: Who do people say that I am?; Who do
you say that I am?; and, Who does God say that I am? May God grant us the
courage and the grace to confess Jesus as Messiah above all else and to hold
these questions up as mirrors to our own lives, that we might find the way of
the cross to be none other than the way of life and peace. Amen.
