When I began to prepare to preach on
this passage, I was delighted to find that a recent archeological dig found a
recording of a news report about this very
incident! Unfortunately, there’s no video because it was before the
invention of TV.
Thaddeus: This is Thaddeus Ames, Jerusalem Radio
News, coming to you from our studios in the heart of the royal city. Tonight on
JRN, an adorable donkey meets an even more adorable little girl. Marcus
Elijah—great, great, great, great grandson of the prophet—marries an Edomite, shocking friends
and members of this ancient, historic family.. And one-named superstar Phoebe
is expecting a little bundle of felafel, and you’ll never guess who the father is . .
. well, ok it’s her husband . . . But first: is he or isn’t he? Jesus of Nazareth,
a carpenter’s son
from Nazareth, has been healing and teaching and exorcising his way across
Palestine. Many observers think he could be preparing for a run for Messiah, a
notion which he has until now
discouraged. But a recent incident has fueled speculation once again. JRN
correspondent Mordecai Jones is embedded at Caesarea Philippi with the Jesus
entourage. Mordecai?
Mordecai: Thank you, Thaddeus. I’m outside the
compound where Jesus and his retinue are staying, and all is quiet in this
quaint village perched high above the Jordan valley. But though things seem calm, sources within
the disciples tell me deliberations continue into the night. The latest round of controversy
began when Jesus asked about his name recognition, how he is viewed by what we
presume are potential voters: “Who are people saying that I am?”. And let me tell you,
Thaddeus, the answers were all over the map. Thomas said people thought he was
John the Baptist, even though everybody knows
he was beheaded. James said “I heard a couple of shepherds say he’s Elijah,
come back to life, or maybe one of the prophets, like Micah or Jeremiah.”
Everybody laughed at that, because nobody who’d been with Jesus any length of
time could believe he was a prophet.
Mordecai: But I have to say, Thaddeus, that Jesus
looked a little worried, or maybe concerned, or maybe he just wanted a little
reassurance, because he asked them “But who do you think I am?” And that’s when Peter—Jesus’
spokesman and most ardent follower—stepped up and said “You’re the Messiah, of
course!” And immediately
Jesus ordered them
not to say anything to anybody. Back to you, Thaddeus.
Thaddeus: Thank you, Mordecai. Tell me: what do
you make of all this? Why, if he’s running for Messiah, would he tell his
followers not to say anything? You’d think just the opposite.
Mordecai: Why indeed, Thaddeus . . . seems he’s not as
interested in running as some potential backers might like. And what he said next muddied the water even
more. He told them that he must—must,
he said, as if it were a necessity—that
he must undergo great suffering and be rejected by the elders, the chief
priests and scribes—basically the entire religious establishment—and be killed and after three
days rise again. Those were his exact words, Thaddeus: “he will undergo great
suffering and be killed.”
Thaddeus: That’s a stunning prediction, Mordecai.
Not very reassuring to potential voters. In a recent Pew survey, fully eighty-seven percent of
respondents wanted a Messiah like the last
one: a mighty warrior who will lead the Israelites to glory. Predicting you’ll
get killed doesn’t fit those expectations, to say the least. What could he have
meant by that?
Mordecai: It’s not completely clear, Thaddeus, but one
thing is certain:
it made Peter very angry.
He took Jesus aside—grabbed him by the arm,
no less—and tough they were out of earshot, it was obvious that he was rebuking the boss. And it didn’t make
Jesus too happy, either: he immediately turned and looked at the others, to
make sure they heard, and rebuked Peter
right in front of them:
“Get behind me, Satan”—that’s another direct
quote, Thaddeus, “get behind
me Satan, ‘cause you’re setting your mind on human things, and not those of the
divine.”
Thaddeus: Amazing, Mordecai, just amazing . . . he
likened his trusted aid and confidant to Beelzebub.
The adversary. The
accuser. A
stunning development in the Jesus campaign.
Mordecai: Verily, Thaddeus, verily. And I can say that
it really shook Peter
up, too. Listen to an interview he gave JRN not long after:
Mordecai: Peter, were you shocked when Jesus called you
Satan?
Peter: Yes, yes I was. We had spent months together, Mordecai,
months. I’d been with him through healings, exorcisms, Pharisee controversies, everything. I thought we
were close, closer than just mere teacher and disciple, at least. Guess I was
wrong.
Mordecai: What did you talk about when you took him
aside?
Peter: Well . . . I admit I did most of the talking.
I told him how disappointed I was that he spoke of going to his death, just like that, as if
it were a foregone conclusion. We disciples want a Messiah—I’d just called him
that, you know—we disciples want a traditional Messiah, you know? One who’ll
kick some Roman booty and not look back. Not some, some . . . patsy, who’ll let himself be
taken and killed.
Mordecai: In other words, you rebuked your teacher.
Peter: I
suppose . . . if you want to put it that way. But he didn’t have to call me the
devil.
Mordecai: What did he mean when he said you were putting
your mind on things of the world and not those of the divine?
Peter: I
have no idea. Maybe wanting him not to die? How is that “of the world and not
of the divine?” And doesn’t the divine want us to be free and independent?
After all, we are
God’s people, we’ve been chosen and everything.
Mordecai: All good questions, Peter. Thank you for your
time.
Peter: My pleasure.
Thaddeus: Stunning interview, Mordecai, simply stunning.
Mordecai: Indeed, and to make things worse, shortly
after that Jesus
called a crowd together and told them things that were pretty peculiar for a man
who would be Messiah. Things like if any want to follow him they must deny themselves and take up
their cross. And people who want to save their life will lose it, and those who
lose their life will save
it , which when you think about it, doesn’t make a lot of sense. And how many
citizens of Judea want to deny themselves anything?
Thaddeus: Not many, I’ll wager. Well. Stunning
developments in the Jesus campaign. Next, Timmy was in the well, but a plucky dog—a collie, it
is believed—has rescued
him. But first, a word from our sponsor Coliseum Toothpaste, the Roman way to
brush your teeth.
___________
Well. That is, ah, stunning.
It seems the media back then
could be just as clueless as they can be today.
More to the point, it’s pretty obvious that the disciples, if Peter is any
indication, are clueless as well. Of course, this shouldn’t come as any
surprise to any of us, they never
really get it, from the day they’re called from their homes and jobs and families
to the day when they scatter like quail at the crucifixion.
And this episode points out that they
really don’t know him at all. Peter says he’s the Messiah—note that Jesus
doesn’t confirm it, just tells him to shut up—but as the story continues, it
becomes painfully obvious just what the major sticking point is. Like our
newscasters, Peter has a completely mistaken idea about what kind of Messiah
Jesus will make. Human society, maybe even human nature wanted a warlord, a conqueror, a
political leader who will make Israel great again, like it was under King
David, the greatest
of all to hold that job. Like any occupied nation, Israel chafed at the rule of
their overlords. So much so that several decades after Jesus’ crucifixion, the
Israelites revolted. Which turned out pretty much as you might expect, with
Jerusalem in ruins.
That’s what Jesus meant when he told
Peter his mind was on things of the world: it’s code for thinking in human
terms, in ego
terms. In terms of what he might call the self.
And we all do it, don’t we? Or at least, not wanting to speak for anyone else, I do . . . like a lot of
folks, I tend to think in terms of winners and losers, getting up the old
ladder of success. It extends to our country,
too: we love thinking of ourselves as the greatest nation on earth, even as
people in every other nation think the same about theirs.
But beyond all that, this passage is
about the mental pictures we have about something or someone, the image or idea
of a person versus the reality. Who do you think I am, Jesus asked the
disciples, what image or idea about me do you have? We get some idea about
somebody or something,
and it colors our all our thinking, and from there,
our actions. Peter’s idea of Jesus was so at odds with the reality that he
reacted violently when confronted with the truth, he pulled Jesus aside and rebuked his rabbi and
friend, the man who had given him new purpose and new life.
What images of Jesus do you have. Maybe it’s Jesus
the free-marketeer, defender of the capitalist way. Or perhaps Jesus the
purveyor of prosperity doctrine, which says we are prosperous because we’re good, because we’ve done
what God likes. Or Jesus the social justice crusader, or—my new favorite—Jesus the
sage, who out-Buddhas the Buddha himself. The point is, we all have concepts and
notions of who Jesus is, and they mediate
how we as Christ-followers behave towards ourselves, others, and the rest of
creation. Today’s passage shows the consequences of that kind of misconception.
And speaking of Buddhists, Zen master
Lin-ji once famously said “If you see the Buddha on your way, kill him.” What
he meant by that is that if we have a concept or notion about the Buddha—or anybody, really—that
prevents us from seeing reality, that prevents us from experiencing that reality,
we must extinguish that concept. And in our passage, Peter needs to extinguish
(or “kill”) his notion of the Christ as military leader and earthly king,
because it’s getting in the way of his seeing, his experiencing the truth.
How do we do that? How do we extinguish
our concepts and notions that get in the way of seeing and, more importantly, experiencing the risen
Christ? Prayer. Prayer and practice. Practice and prayer. Every time we
prayerfully discern what Christ would have us do, then do it, we participate in his
life, we experience it, and somehow—and don’t ask me how—our false ideas and
notions slip a little more away.
Turn your eyes upon Jesus, as the old
hymn goes, but do more than that: experience
him, do what he did, that’s what he meant by giving up ourselves and following
him. Those who do will find that the things of the earth, our ideas and
concepts our ego has constructed, will go strangely dim, in the light of his
glory and grace. Amen.
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