Sixteenth Sunday After Pentecost, Year B

Donna G. Joy

The focus for this morning's sermon is Mark 8:27-38

In this morning’s Gospel reading Jesus asks his disciples two questions: (1) “Who do people say that I am?” and then, (2) “Who do you say that I am?”

 Recently I came across a rather humorous response to these questions; humour that is designed to point out the diverse ways in which we can interpret the identity of Jesus, depending on our own particular place in the world. It is a series of differing perceptions which point out that we have a tendency to interpret the identity of Jesus in a way that conforms to our own particular view of the world.

One offered three good arguments that Jesus was Italian: (1) It seems that He may have talked with His hands; (2) He had wine with His meals; (3) He used olive oil.

Another offered three good arguments that Jesus was Californian: (1) He never cut His hair; (2) He is often perceived to have walked around barefoot most of the time; (3) Although not His original intention, He started a new religion.

But then there were a couple of equally good arguments that Jesus was of Aboriginal descent: (1) It seems that He was connected to and at peace with nature; (2) He ate a lot of fish.

But then there were some equally good arguments that Jesus was Irish: (1) He was always telling stories; (2) He loved green pastures.

But my personal favourite – perhaps the most compelling of all – argues that Jesus was actually a woman: (1) He fed a crowd at a moment’s notice when there was virtually no food; (2) And even when He was dead, He had to get up because there was still work yet to be done.

This little piece of humour points out that as has been the case throughout history, Jesus’ identity is perceived in contrasting ways.

And indeed, Jesus asks his disciples, “Who do people say that I am?” In other words, how does the surrounding culture define who he is?  They respond by telling Him that some say John the Baptist or Elijah - a great prophet and teacher who said some profound things and lived an exemplary life for us to imitate.  

Then Jesus asks, "But who do YOU say that I am?"   And Peter answers,"…you are the Messiah."  We, as people who know how the story unfolds, may want to congratulate Peter for responding as he did. But although Peter knew the right word in referring to Jesus as the Messiah - it would appear that he didn't really "get it" – he hadn’t even begun to grasp the challenging road this Messiah was to travel, or the demands this journey will inevitably have on his followers.

The Jews of Jesus' time were eagerly waiting for the Messiah, but their understanding was that the Messiah would deliver them triumphantly from the Roman military rule and oppression.  

In verse 31 we hear Jesus telling them openly how he will suffer and be rejected; that he will be killed and after 3 days rise again, and Peter takes Jesus aside and rebukes him; Peter is convinced this is not the way it's supposed to work – the Messiah is supposed to be powerful/victorious - not one to be inflicted with great suffering and be rejected and put to death. Jesus telling the disciples that he must undergo suffering, and rejection, and death is analogous to Tim Burke, the Winnipeg Blue Bombers head coach informing the team that he is intending to intentionally allow the opposing team to win the game. It just doesn’t make any sense; it is unthinkable; incomprehensible. Because if Jesus suffers such devastating defeat, he would automatically be seen as a false Messiah; a Messiah who utterly fails at everything the Messiah was expected to accomplish. Because if he suffers such devastating defeat, who then is going to deal with the Romans? Who then will bring justice to those who are oppressed? Who then will put an end to the suffering? It seems that we can hear these unspoken questions and concerns in the simple statement, "Peter took Jesus aside and began to rebuke him." In identifying Jesus as Messiah Peter gets the word or title right, but it seems that he gets the meaning completely wrong.

Jesus' response to Peter's rebuke may seem pretty harsh --"Get behind me, Satan!"  - A reply that cuts pretty deep. It is possible that Jesus regards Peter’s reaction as extremely dangerous for those in search of a truly faithful life as he continues, "… you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things."  In other words, Peter is seeing things from a human perspective - the temporal suffering they're experiencing under the Romans - compared to the eternal suffering all humanity will suffer if sin is not dealt with and reconciliation with God is not accomplished through Jesus’ death and resurrection. For the Messiah to defeat the Romans in a militaristic manner would solve things in the short term, but for him to suffer and die – for us – solves things long term; that is, eternally.  Indeed, there was a bigger picture to be considered than Peter's concern about liberation from the Romans. So Peter is thinking not as God thinks but as humans tend to think.

To a certain degree, this passage offers a fairly good summary of the entire gospel of Mark, where the author draws heavily upon the model of the suffering servant. This passage summarizes the way in which Jesus’ suffering lies at the very centre of who he is, without which there could be no rising to new life. He tells those who are gathered with him that a person wanting to follow him cannot do so without the prospect of suffering and death.

“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.” Jesus is not offering a detailed agenda to show his disciples the way, he is telling them that He is the way. In the words of Karl Barth, “Jesus does not give recipes that show the way to God as other teachers of religion do. He is Himself the Way.”

Indeed, finding new life through suffering and death: that is the core of the good news: found in Jesus Himself, and expected of those who choose to follow. Jesus has lived out that liberating way before us – out of his suffering he has experienced new life and made that possible for each and every one of us. At the very centre of Jesus’ message we discover his suffering, death, burial, and resurrection. So, to look suffering and death straight in the face and to go through it oneself in the hope of a new God-given life: that is the gift of Jesus.

And the cross is the sign of suffering and death, but also the profound hope for total renewal.

So, today Jesus asks each of us, “Who do others say I am?” How does society or western culture define who Jesus is?

Well, some say that he is simply a great prophet and teacher; someone to imitate and revere.

Some say that he was a kind of mystical guru who can provide all the answers to the complexities of life along with magical fixes for whatever dilemmas in which we may find ourselves. Some will say that belief in him has the power to avoid the hardships in life – broken relationships – illness – financial stress… Some will say that his teaching offers concrete answers for complex issues. Some will say he is a great teacher who has all kinds of wisdom for us to get ahead in life if we study his life and teachings and apply them to our everyday lives. Some may focus on this understanding that faithfulness in Jesus will ensure success in life. In other words, at the very centre of much popular understanding of who Jesus is, lies the conviction that belief in Him will ensure the absence of suffering.

Jesus also asks each of us, “Who do you say that I am?” And my hope is that together we may become increasingly able to recognize and articulate an understanding that challenges these popular perceptions.

This morning’s Gospel captures the very essence of who Jesus is. At the very centre of our faith is Jesus, the Messiah; not the Messiah that Peter initially had in mind, but a Messiah whose strength is born out of suffering, weakness, brokenness, and vulnerability; a Messiah who has absorbed into Himself all the suffering and sin of the world and taken it to the cross – so that for the rest of time all sin and suffering may be redeemed. It may not be absent, but it will be redeemed. Because of this very central belief in Jesus’ identity, new life and new possibilities may rise from all the suffering and sin that is so much a part of the human condition.

Suffering comes in all shapes and forms. Some suffering is imposed on us in ways over which we have no control.

Marva Dawn is a present day theologian. She suffers from diabetes and various kinds of cancer that continue to flow in and out of remission. Her diabetes has caused her to go blind, and has also destroyed one leg that should actually be amputated but since her body is not strong enough to withstand the surgery she lives instead with a complete leg brace which causes constant and extremely painful ulcers. She often integrates these ailments into her theological work, and suggests there is something redemptive in knowing that new life has risen out of Jesus’ suffering and death on the cross.

In her book, ‘Being Well When We’re ill: Wholeness and Hope in Spite of Infirmity’ Marva Dawn – I think – answers Jesus’ question, “Who do you say that I am?” as she suggests that Jesus is the One whose suffering on the cross resonates with her own and redeems the physical suffering she knows only too well; whose resurrection promises life and hope beyond the suffering of today.

Other suffering comes out of a decision to pick up our cross and follow Jesus. Dietrich Bonhoeffer was executed in 1945 for choosing to pick up his cross and follow Jesus.

“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.”

As a devout Christian he believed that he was called to work tirelessly in resisting the Nazi regime and as a result of his courageous involvement in a plot to stop this regime he was put to death. Through Bonhoeffer’s life and witness he makes it very clear that having been loved so perfectly, so completely by Jesus on the cross, having been reconciled with God through Jesus on the cross . . . nothing – not even death – can destroy eternal life. And clearly, as a disciple of Christ, Bonhoeffer firmly believed and trusted that he was called to pick up his cross and follow Jesus to his death.

After Bonhoeffer’s death an English officer went on to write of his faith and joy and hope even in the midst of horrific adversity. Apparently on Sunday, April 8^th, 1945, Bonhoeffer conducted a little service of worship that spoke right to the very heart of those who were with him in prison. Almost immediately after the service he was removed from that place in the prison, and knowing that his time had come to be executed he said to that English Officer, “This is the end, but for me it is the beginning of life.” In ‘Life Together: A Discussion of Christian Fellowship’ Bonhoeffer answers Jesus’ question, “Who do you say that I am” as he confirms that Jesus “…is the suffering Messiah who suffered a scandalous, public death of a sinner in our stead.” Repeatedly Bonhoeffer makes the point that Jesus’ followers are called to follow Him.

Miroslav Volf in his book ‘Free of Charge: Giving and Forgiving in a Culture Stripped of Grace’ tells the story of the death of his five year old brother, Daniel. Daniel, apparently, quietly escaped from his nanny who was looking after him in order to go down the street to a military base where he enjoyed playing with some of the soldiers in training. During this particular visit Daniel died as a result of an accident which happened because one particular soldier was not watching him carefully enough.

Miroslav Volf’s parents were extremely devout Christian people; and while their grief was evident even fifty years after the fact, they chose to pick up their cross and follow Jesus as they forgave both the nanny and the young soldier whose negligence led to his death.

They refused to press charges against the nanny or that young soldier. In this book M.V. – in a sense – responds to the question, “Who do you say that I am?” Very simply put he is saying that Jesus is the suffering Messiah who has been wronged on the cross, and has forgiven humanity for that horrific deed; and to follow Him, is at least in part, to forgive as we have been forgiven.

These people and their stories serve as inspirations for the rest of us. When you read the work of such faithful disciples as Marva Dawn, D.B. and M.V. – you discover that they respond to the question, “Who do you say Jesus is?” with both in depth scriptural/theological rootedness, and through the decisions they make and the ways in which they live their lives – and with D.B. also through the way in which he died.

Indeed, we all know what it is to suffer. Whether that suffering is something over which we have no control, circumstances such as illness . . . or whether it is the result of decisions we have made to pick up our cross and follow Jesus – to confront the evils and injustices in our communities – our families – our work places – our church… we may find new life/new possibilities/new hope in and through the suffering Jesus.

As we reflect on the question, “Who do you say Jesus is?” we need to be clear that he is a suffering Messiah whose strength is born out of suffering, weakness, brokenness, and vulnerability; a Messiah who has absorbed into Himself all the suffering and sin of the world and taken it to the cross – so that for the rest of time all sin may be forgiven and all suffering may be redeemed.

And, I pray that our response to this question – empowered through the gift of Grace - will be found in both our words and the decisions we make.

Among the resources used for this sermon: N.T. Wright; Karl Barth; Marva Dawn; Dietrich Bonhoeffer; Miroslav Volf