Mt 16:13-20

24 August 2008

 

“Speak for Yourself”

 

          A week ago Saturday, I watched the presidential candidate’s forum at Saddleback Church in Orange County, California, where Rick Warren is the pastor.  For those who didn’t see it, he first had Barack Obama on stage by himself, where he asked him a list of questions.  Afterwards, Warren brought John McCain out, and then while he was alone on stage with him, asked the same questions.  (As a side note, we’re still maintaining the fiction that our only choices are Democrats and Republicans—but that’s an issue for another time!)

          He asked them one question I’ve never heard a reporter ask:  can you name a time when you voted against your party and against your self-interest?  I’m not sure how in-depth either of them wanted to take this, since both of their responses sounded pretty safe.  Obama spoke of his work with McCain on ethics reform in the Congress, as well as his opposition to the war in Iraq.  McCain, going back to the Reagan era, talked about his disagreement with sending Marines to Lebanon.

          I’m guessing that the gist of Warren’s question was for them to speak of a time when they, more or less, had to take an unpopular stand—or at least, when they had to speak for themselves, rather than simply parrot what someone else had said, to not follow the party line.

          That can be a lonely place.  It can be scary, especially if everyone around you (so far as you can tell) is of a different mind.  Let me share a personal experience in which I will pretend to be one who stood out from the crowd.

          Back in 1991, during the run-up to the first Gulf War, the pastor of my church was commenting that he agreed with the president’s decision to go to war with Iraq.  He was saying this from the pulpit during the Sunday morning worship service.  I guess I was okay with that; I know I’ve made political comments from time to time.

          But he wouldn’t let it go!  In fact, he called for everyone there who felt we should go to war to stand up.  In a sanctuary with over one hundred people, I was the only one who remained seated.

          As I said earlier, I was only pretending to be one standing alone.  (Or in this case, sitting alone!)  I say that because I knew I was in a safe place.  No one there was going to chastise me; no one would give me the silent treatment.

Even so, I still think my pastor was out of line in what he did!  I know I wasn’t the only one there with misgivings about what we as a nation were doing.  But in that kind of atmosphere, people can feel intimidated for not going along.

          Still, speaking for oneself need not be a case of defying popular opinion.  It can be something as simple as raising your hand in class.  It can be overcoming your self-doubt and asking that cute girl out for a date!  It can mean asking your boss for a raise, especially when you know some slackers who’ve already been given theirs!

          In today’s gospel reading in Matthew, we see Simon Peter speaking for himself.  This scripture is often called Peter’s confession of faith, or Peter’s confession of the Messiah.  Let’s look at what’s going on here.

          According to Matthew, Jesus and his disciples have been wandering throughout the province of Galilee, a region in the far north of Israel, inhabited by a motley assortment of Jews and Gentiles.  Jesus has fed a multitude and then been questioned by some Pharisees and Sadducees.  Now, as our text begins, they’re approaching Caesarea Philippi, a local stronghold of Roman authority.

          Jesus asks the disciples, “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?” (v. 13).  Mark phrases the question differently in his gospel.  He uses the first person:  “Who do people say that I am?” (8:27).  Matthew has Jesus using that peculiar title, “Son of Man.”  It appears many times in the Old Testament.  The prophet Ezekiel was repeatedly addressed that way by God.  And in this case, it seems clear that Jesus is referring to himself.

          There are a variety of takes on “Son of Man,” all of them with similar nuances.  Some see it as “mortal”; others see it as “human being.”  Still others think of it simply as “the Man.”  (To me, that has an especially ominous feel!  Isn’t that what Johnny Cash was getting at in his song, “When the Man Comes Around”?)  Approaching the New Testament era, the title increasingly carries messianic overtones.  I like to think of it as a counter balance to “Son of God.”

          In any event, Jesus asks them, “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?”  Some respond, “People think you’re John the Baptist.”  In chapter 14, when Herod first hears reports about Jesus, he thinks that he’s John raised from the dead.  This, by the way, is the same Herod who ordered John’s head chopped off.  He might have reason to be a bit nervous!

Other disciples say, “Elijah!  A lot of people claim you’re Elijah.”  Some think Jesus is the fulfillment of Malachi’s prediction that the prophet Elijah will return (4:5).  Still others, heeding the words of Moses that “the Lord your God will raise up for you a prophet like me,” are convinced that Jesus is one of the prophets (Dt 18:15).

The disciples also report that many say he’s Jeremiah.  The belief in his reappearance becomes progressively stronger in the couple of centuries before Jesus (2 Mc 15:13-16, 2 Es 2:18).  Having Jesus identified with Jeremiah, the man often known as “the weeping prophet,” seems especially appropriate!

So after hearing the viewpoints of the public at large, Jesus asks a more pointed question.  “But who do you say that I am?” (v. 15).  What a difference that shift in pronoun makes!  Do you like that?  It’s a lot easier to talk about what they say!  It’s usually a lot…safer to refer to some anonymous group out there.  But when the question is put directly to you…

          We don’t know how long it takes the disciples to respond.  Are they looking around?  Have some of them lowered their eyes, suddenly becoming fascinated by an ant walking on the ground?  Are they waiting to see who will field this question?  Or is there little hesitation?  Does Peter simply beat the rest of them to it?  We can’t say for sure.

          What we can say is that it is Peter who says, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God” (v. 16).  He’s the one who speaks for himself.  How does Jesus respond?  “Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah!  For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father in heaven” (v. 17).

          He follows that with words that have produced plenty of controversy during the centuries.  “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” (v. 18).

          Roman Catholics focus on the person of Peter and say that he is the first Pope.  The Eastern Orthodox and Protestants have emphasized the confession, or the faith, of Peter.  It’s an old argument; I doubt that there are many people these days who still really get worked up about it.

          I want us to notice what Jesus says right after Peter’s confession that he is the Messiah.  How does he describe his response?  Does he say, “Good guess!”?  Does he accuse him of cheating to get the right answer?  Not quite.

Jesus says that “flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father in heaven.”  Peter hasn’t just dreamed this up; he’s been paying attention.  He’s been paying attention, not only with his physical eyes, but with his (so to speak) spiritual eyes.

          This isn’t the first time Matthew shows us someone speaking a spiritual truth—and not just repeating what others have said.

          There’s a statement at the end of the Sermon on the Mount, in chapters 5 to 7, that I’ve always found interesting.  “Now when Jesus had finished saying these things, the crowds were astounded at his teaching, for he taught them as one having authority, and not as their scribes” (7:28-29).

          What does that mean—to teach as one having authority?  Does it mean to speak with an authoritative tone of voice, so that no matter what I say—even if it’s complete nonsense—it will be taken as God’s own truth!  (I’ve actually heard preachers say that!  Not the “nonsense” part, just the “tone of voice” part!)

          To understand what it means, we should look at the usual way of teaching.  In teaching what a particular scripture meant, rabbis would quote other rabbis.  “Rabbi Eliezer said this.  Rabbi Mordecai said that.”  Venerated teachers would be cited as their authority.

          Understand, Matthew isn’t insulting this well-established method of teaching.  He’s not disrespecting the scribes.  He’s showing how Jesus teaches on his own authority.  This is especially clear when Jesus says stuff like, “You have heard that it was said…but I say to you…”

          By saying all this, I’m not putting Peter’s confession of faith at the same level with the teaching of Jesus.  I just want to illustrate the difference between speaking for yourself and simply repeating what others have already said—the difference between speaking out and going with the flow.  As I said earlier, that can be a lonely place; it can be scary.

          I imagine we all can think of people who’ve had the courage to remain in that place—people who’ve spoken up and stayed put.  They haven’t run and hid.

          I’m almost finished with my re-reading of Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s Letters and Papers from Prison.  For those who don’t know, he’s the Lutheran pastor who was executed by the Nazis in prison.  He was involved in a plot to assassinate Hitler; it was a real struggle of faith for him to make that choice.  I see him as modeling the courage to speak for himself.

          Early in the book, Bonhoeffer is reflecting on how the nation—and church—in Germany have behaved.  “We have been silent witnesses of evil deeds,” he says, “we have been drenched by many storms; we have learnt the arts of [evasion] and pretence; experience has made us suspicious of others and kept us from being truthful and open; intolerable conflicts have worn us down and even made us cynical.  Are we still of any use?  What we shall need is not geniuses, or cynics…or clever tacticians, but plain, honest, straightforward men [and women].  Will our inward power of resistance be strong enough, and our honesty with ourselves remorseless enough, for us to find our way back to simplicity and straightforwardness?”[1]

          Are we still of any use?  Are those of us here still of any use?  Without question, yes.  Even though, no doubt, we can think of times when we ourselves have chosen paths of evasion and pretense.  How do I know this?  How can I say that we are still of use, despite whatever resistance to speaking for ourselves we’ve demonstrated?

          Look at the rest of Jesus’ statement to Peter.  He doesn’t expect him to go by himself.  He isn’t to be a lone wolf.  He places him within the context of church.  Peter—the rock—is a model of bearing witness to Jesus.  He’s a model for the church in bearing witness to the Messiah.  And need I say?  The rock is a model of strength.  Does that speak to you?

          As I move to my conclusion, I want to quote from another of Bonhoeffer’s letters.  He’s writing to his close friend, Eberhard Bethge, a month after the attempt on Hitler’s life has failed.  “In these turbulent times, we repeatedly lose sight of what really makes life worth living.”  That could have been written yesterday.

          He says that “we are often told in the New Testament to ‘be strong’…Isn’t people’s weakness (stupidity, lack of independence, forgetfulness, cowardice, vanity, corruptibility, temptability, etc.) a greater danger than evil?  Christ not only makes people ‘good’; he makes them strong, too.”[2]

          As we bear witness to the Messiah—as we speak for ourselves—we find ourselves in greater communion with a chorus all over the planet who do the same thing.  As we die to ourselves, we shed our foolish pride.  And Christ gives us the strength to do so.