Sermon: Matthew 16:13-20 (Proper 16A)
21 August 2005, Christ Church Riverdale
The Rev. Robert C. Lamborn, Rector
NRSV Matthew 16:13 Now when Jesus came into the district of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, "Who do people say that the Son of Man is?" 14 And they said, "Some say John the Baptist, but others Elijah, and still others Jeremiah or one of the prophets." 15 He said to them, "But who do you say that I am?" 16 Simon Peter answered, "You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God." 17 And Jesus answered him, "Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah! For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father in heaven. 18 And I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not prevail against it. 19 I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven." 20 Then he sternly ordered the disciples not to tell anyone that he was the Messiah.
There's a joke where a woman meets a man for the first time and remarks, “You know, you look like my third husband.” “Oh, that's interesting. How many times have you been married?” “Twice.” There's no follow-up story to the joke to let us know what, if anything, happened next in the lives of these two. My point is that identity is bound up in relationship.
Even in the America of rugged individualism where what other people think isn't supposed to matter, we come to know ourselves in part through how others perceive us. This is not a negative thing, but quite positive.
When someone experiences the beginnings of a call to ordained ministry, he or she doesn't just make an appointment with the bishop and waltz into the diocesan office to say,“Bishop, I'm called to be a deacon,” or, “I'm called to be a priest, so when could I get on your calendar for an ordination service?” No, the process of discerning a call to become deacon or priest involves what a lot of other people think–the rector, a parish discernment committee, the vestry, medical and psychological examiners, diocesan committees, seminary faculty and the bishop. In the same way, when I first met the search committee here, I didn't start off by saying, “I'm your next rector, so could we please get on with the paperwork?” Nor were things so clear to me at that stage, but became clear as I developed relationships with the search committee and vestry. Identity is bound up in relationship, and we come to know ourselves in part through how others perceive us.
I believe this is at least one of the reasons Jesus asks, “Who do people say that the Son of Man is,” and then, “Who do you say that I am?” Sometimes people look on these questions as a kind of theological pop quiz, where other people realize that Jesus is somebody special, but Peter is the one who really gets it right. (Right, that is, before he goes on in the next few verses to say too much, when he'll go from the head of the class immediately to the doghouse.) I believe Jesus is asking about how people perceive him not simply to test them, but also to learn from them.
Christian tradition holds that Jesus Christ was not only fully divine but also fully human, and the fully human Jesus would, I think, be interested to know what people see in him. This is the opposite of the Wizard of Oz, by the way, where a terrifying image from a cloud of smoke shouts, “I AM OZ!” but behind the scenes an unimpressive-looking man is throwing switches and moving levers. Instead, Jesus has the courage to trust, the courage to take a risk and with no smoke or levers to enter into a dialogue by asking, “What do you think, guys?”
And God uses the vulnerability of this situation very powerfully to give the gift of revelation to Simon, blurting out, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God!” something beyond his own ability to figure things out on his own. In the process of receiving this revelation, Simon is changed, changed so much that Scripture gives him a new name, just as at other times of God's revelation Abram becomes Abraham, Jacob becomes Israel, and Saul becomes Paul. “You are Rock,” Jesus says (Petros in Greek, giving us Peter,) and on this rock I will build my assembly, my church.” Knowing the whole story as we do, we can see some humor in this. Simon the Rock is full of bluster, but can hardly be considered solid; after all, he abandons Jesus when the going gets tough and skips the Crucifixion. This is the rock Jesus' church is built on? Well, yes, as a matter of fact, it is. We can see from this text that human frailty and human failure are nothing new to the church, and despite our shortcomings, Jesus takes the risk of trusting people like you and me to be his assembly, of allowing his identity to be bound up in relationship . . . with us!
“Who do you say that I am?” Jesus continues to ask, not just “who do you think that I am,” but who do you actively express that I am. Since the present tense in Greek denotes continuing action, “Who are you saying in word and in deed that I am?” Our ongoing answering of that question involves, I believe, faithfulness, engagement, and humility. Part of saying faithfully who Jesus is involves taking the time and making the effort to keep learning as we continue to proclaim– learning not just from books, but from prayer, dialogue in Christian community, and Christian service in the world. Staying engaged with Jesus allows the relationship to continue to grow and change over time. At my most recent high school reunion, I was flattered for people to say I looked just the same–not everybody did–but I'm both the same and a very different person than when I graduated. Being humble in what we say about Jesus means listening to other voices, and staying open to what God may reveal to us anew. A number of books have been written trying to get back to the “real” Jesus, or the “historical” Jesus, and the pictures they paint have a number of differences. What we see depends a lot on what we're looking for, so if we're not careful, the “real” Jesus can look a lot like we want him to be, instead of someone who calls us and challenges us to a new kind of life beyond our imaginings.
“Who do you say that I am?” Jesus takes the risk of asking that question, of letting his identity be bound up with relationship showing profound trust to us, his assembly of “little Rocks.”
“Who do you say that I am?” As the Body of Christ, when we respond with faithfulness, engagement, and humility, we continue not only to give an answer, but to live that answer.