How We Answer Matters More Than What We Answer

Jesus’ question to his disciples at Caesarea Philippi (“Who do you say that I am?” Matthew 16:13ff and parallels in Mark 8 and Luke 9) forms the basis of countless evangelistic sermons meant to elicit the correct response. Peter’s perception that Jesus is the awaited Messiah, God’s anointed one, drew the Teacher’s approval and blessing (only in Matthew). “Blessed are you Simon bar-Jonah. It wasn’t just good guesswork on your part. God himself revealed it to you. And there will be special honor for you in the Church I will build.”

The usual sermon on the text leads inexorably to asking the folks in the pew, “Who do YOU say that I am?” The preacher seeks agreement to the obvious answer, the confession that “Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the living God.”

Once asked and once answered, the matter seems settled, at least in the common practice in many churches. Another Christian is enrolled.

Many things about the Caesarea Philippi exchange escape notice or comment in preaching. For one thing, if we take Jesus’ question literally, the “you” of “who do you say I am?” is plural, not singular, a distinction not evident in English. It’s addressed to the group, the incipient community to be founded on the Rock. Is that important? Perhaps. The extreme individualism which characterizes faith in our culture would say not. It’s all about my personal relationship to God. What others decide, do, or say doesn’t matter. Or does it? The communal answer shapes, supports, challenges, and helps mature my own answer. That Peter alone gave answer should not blind us to the essential role of an answering community.

It’s also seldom noted that Jesus told his disciples not to tell anyone that he was the Messiah (Matthew 16:20 and parallels): “Then he sternly ordered the disciples not to tell anyone that he was the Messiah.” If they were supposed to keep quiet, then perhaps the point of the passage is about something other than encouraging a lot of other people to echo Peter’s confession.

Another aspect of this text is usually bracketed out for homiletical comfort. Right on the heels of the blessed moment when Peter saw the light, Jesus threw a pall over it all. He made the first of three predictions of his impending suffering and death (Matthew 16:21, 17:22, 20:18 and parallels). Peter rejected the dire words, grabbed Jesus, rebuked him for thinking such a thing, and vowed that these things would never happen. Jesus in turn rejected Peter’s pleas and rebuked him with harsh words, “Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumblingblock (Greek skandalon) to me. Your way of thinking is not from God but from man.” Peter had given the correct answer to the crucial question about Jesus’ identity, but it’s clear he had no clue about what he had said. Some time would pass before he truly understood.

Jesus moved on from setting Peter straight to talking of discipleship and its terms. Too few sermons want to get very close to this text:
Matthew 16:24-28 Then Jesus told his disciples, “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 will find it. For what will it profit them if they gain the whole world but forfeit their life? Or what will they give in return for their life? For the Son of Man is to come with his angels in the glory of his Father, and then he will repay everyone for what has been done. Truly I tell you, there are some standing here who will not taste death before they see the Son of Man coming in his kingdom.â€

The question of Jesus’ identity asked of the disciples far more than intellectual assent and right words. It might well demand their lives. When push came to shove on Golgotha, Peter, watching from afar, chose the escape route of denial, “I never knew him.” Three times — at least one of them punctuated by an oath. Every one of the Twelve jumped ship except a few women followers. “Who did you say that I am?”

At the end of John’s Gospel the risen Jesus asked Peter, “Peter, do you love me?” Three times. Each time Peter said, “Yes, you know I love you.” Three times. Each time Jesus countered, “Feed my sheep. Feed my lambs.” Three times. The right answer requires more than agreement; it must lead to faithful action.

Jesus called himself “the way, the truth, and the life,” not elevating any of the three descriptors over the others. Too much emphasis on him as the truth to believe (“You are the Christ, the son of the living God.”) diminishes Jesus as the way to follow and the life to express. Who do I say he is to my family? To my neighbor? To the weak? To the powerful?

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