Reading: Matthew 16: 13-20
The disciples have been with Jesus for quite some time. They’ve seen the miracles, they’ve listened to his teaching, they’ve been given both quiet and startling glimpses of a Kingdom that they are beginning to believe is very near. Their lives have been radically touched and there is a transformation taking place within them, though, at times, it doesn’t seem like it! And then Jesus asks them a question.
You can imagine them walking along, Jesus and his disciples, talking about all that had been happening, and then he drops the first question into the conversation, “Who do people say I am?” A fairly innocent question, you might think. Anyway, they feel happy enough with it. They can repeat what they have heard others say. It’s easy! In fact, they are all clamouring to answer, all eager to chip in with what they’ve heard, keen to encourage him. “Some say you’re John the Baptist come back to life. Oh, and others are saying that you are Elijah, or, if not Elijah, then one of the other great prophets.” They walk on a bit, and then comes the unexpected, getting right to the core of the matter. They should have known by now that, with him, any preamble was not just idle chit-chat, but was leading to something. “What about you? Who do you say I am?” There’s dead silence. How can they answer? But then, again, how can they not answer? Perhaps somewhere deep within each of them they wonder, or they think, “Maybe he is. Could he be?” But no one is willing to say it. They might be mistaken. What would the others think? What if they’d got it wrong, and, if they had, what were they doing on this crazy journey anyway?
Does any of that sound familiar? This is the most fundamental question, and the one from which ultimately there is no escape. It is the question on whose answer hinges the whole motivation of our spiritual service. It is the question that comes at the beginning of our journey of faith and will be there at the end. Who do you say I am? Not what the others think, but you? This is another very important moment of recognition for Peter. If, like Peter, we can answer, not only from our heads, but also from our hearts, then we have crossed the Rubicon. There is no going back. We can be so controlled by our heads. It’s safer there! We confuse the heart with emotionalism and we shy away. Yet this is a question that must be responded to from both the head and the heart, by each of us as individuals, and probably not just once, but many times.
As I approach this question, and my answer, it’s almost as if I want to do so on tiptoe, or metaphorically take off my shoes, for this is holy ground. On one level, our response to Jesus is very private and deeply personal, but on another level, if it has been and is a living, vibrant commitment, then, whether we recognize it or not, it’s going to have consequences that stretch far beyond us, and into generations yet unborn; so, too, if we, in some way, say no, either individually or collectively. If, through word or action, we reject in some way who he is, then that can not only stunt our own growth and potential, but can also become in itself a force that shatters hopes and dreams, diminishes the quality of life, and can hold whole organisations, denominations, communities and nations in bondage to their past, fanning the flames of mistrust, bitterness, conflict and fear. On our answer depends the future of the Church, and of Christianity in Ireland and in the world.
Peter makes his declaration which has been given, has been revealed and is largely mystery, yet he has the courage to speak it out, and the heart of Jesus rejoices and responds with overwhelming generosity and with a rather awesome declaration, “You are Peter and upon this rock I will build my church, and all the powers of hell will not conquer it. And I will give you the keys of the Kingdom of Heaven. Whatever you prohibit on earth will be prohibited in heaven, and what you permit on earth will be permitted in heaven.” Peter and others like him, including you and me, become the rock foundation upon which Jesus builds his church. When we consider Peter, when we consider ourselves, we might be excused for thinking that he could have chosen better. Peter tripped up so many times and so do we, but Jesus sees the heart. He honours the heart’s desire and he affirms this rock foundation that he can see when we can’t. If Peter took this statement on board after his declaration, then however inadequate and weak we feel, so too must we. We’re not asked to be a rock in our own strength, though often we try to be, an exercise that leads only to weariness and stumbling. But the question remains, “How do we declare who Jesus is?” Do we simply make the verbal statement, and expect people to believe it? Sadly that is the case in some situations, and then people see the credibility gap and accuse us of hypocrisy. Or have we the faith to use what we’ve been given, the keys of the Kingdom of Heaven that can unlock for us all the riches and resources we need in order to declare to the world who Jesus really is? Have we even begun to understand, with our hearts as well as our heads, that we have within our reach the power and the authority to do the same things that Jesus did and greater? We read it in scripture and we say we accept it as biblical truth, but can we really believe that what we loose on earth is loosed in heaven, and what we prohibit on earth is prohibited in heaven? Perhaps our faith has grown tired. Perhaps our hearts have lost their expectancy. Perhaps the disappointments on our journey have been too great. Yet Jesus is the same yesterday, today and forever.