Text: Matthew 16:13-28
This morning’s episode in the Gospel of Matthew is the great hinge-point in Jesus’ relationship to his disciples, especially as told in the Gospels of Matthew and Mark.
In Mark, this same story marks the halfway point. In all three Synoptic Gospels (Matthew, Mark, and Luke) it’s the northernmost event, along with what happens on the mount of transfiguration immediately after.
Jesus and his disciples are in Gentile country. They’ve gone there to get away from the crowds for a bit. That hasn’t worked, however, as they’ve still encountered crowds. They’ve still encountered people in need of healing. They’ve even run into argumentative Sadducees and Pharisees the one time they’ve toyed with re-entering Jewish territory. But now that they’re on their own again, having traveled far, far north all the way to Caesarea Philippi—a city well known for its pagan religion and its worship of Caesar—Jesus takes the time to ask his disciples who people think he is.
“Some say John the Baptist,” reply the disciples (verse 14), “other say Elijah, and others Jeremiah or one of the prophets.”
In other words, a prophet. The people think Jesus is a prophet. Perhaps the end-times prophet, Elijah. Or maybe a resurrected John the Baptist, or even Jeremiah from the time of the exile.
“But who do you say that I am?,” asks Jesus.
“You are the Christ,” answers Peter, “the Son of the living God.”
This is the great moment in the synoptic Gospels, especially in Matthew and Mark. Peter’s confession of faith brings Jesus’ more itinerant teaching and healing ministry—his “come and see” phase—to an end, and launches Jesus’ journey to the cross. In Luke, this episode happens fairly early—in chapter 9—because the long journey from north to south is where Luke places most of Jesus’ teaching, especially his parables that are unique to that Gospel. But either way, this confession by Peter brings Jesus’ mission thus far to an end, and begins his journey to Jerusalem and the cross.
“From that time on,” Matthew writes (verse 21), “Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer many things from the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised.”
Instead of simply confirming Peter’s confession that Jesus is the Christ—the Messiah, God’s chosen one—Jesus instead begins teaching them what being Messiah really means. It means going to the cross. It means suffering at the hands of God’s people, and their accomplices in the Roman leadership, being nailed to a cross, and being killed. Jesus does go on to say that after death he will be raised “on the third day,” but Peter is still having none of it.
“Far be it from you, Lord!,” Peter cries, “This shall never happen to you!”
And the same Simon Peter who led the group in confessing Jesus to be the Christ—the Simon whom Jesus has named Peter, “the Rock,” on whom Jesus has said the community who share his confession will in some sense be built, the Simon Peter whose knowledge that Jesus is the Christ has not been a merely human conclusion but rather the bestowal of divine knowledge from God the Father—this same Simon Peter is rebuked by Jesus as a minion of the devil himself.
“Get behind me, Satan!”, Jesus cries, “You are a hindrance to me.”
Being Messiah cannot mean what the people want it to mean. It cannot mean what Peter wants it to mean. It has to mean the cross. It has to mean rejection, and suffering, and death. It has to mean Jesus giving his life as a ransom for many, atoning for the sin of the world by the shedding of his blood, and taking his life back the third day in glorious resurrection.
Being God’s chosen one cannot just mean being the glorious Son of Psalm 2.
It also has to mean being the suffering Servant of Isaiah 53.
Being God’s chosen one means being called to suffer. And even Peter can’t stand in the way of that. In fact, says Jesus, if Peter and his friends want to follow him as Messiah, they will have to suffer, too.
“If anyone would come after me,” Jesus says (verse 24), “let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it.”
There’s an inseparable connection between being God’s chosen ruler of the world, and being the one who lays down his life for the salvation of that world. And there’s an inseparable connection between being those who follow this chosen ruler, and being those who willingly lay their lives down for his sake.
“For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul?,” Jesus goes on, “Or what will a man give in return for his soul? For the Son of Man is going to come with his angels in the glory of his Father, and then he will repay each person according to what he has done.”
Will those who claim to follow Jesus follow him to the cross? Will they lay their lives down for his sake? Or will they grasp at power and influence like the world does—like Peter probably believes Jesus should? Will they scheme and connive and politick their way into power? Or will they go out into the world in the mercy and strength of God’s Spirit, speaking God’s word about the cross of God’s Son, and laying down their lives for his sake?
One path will mean the establishment of the church.
The other would be to die with the world, having lived their lives no differently than the world.
We can be glad to know which path the disciple chose.
And for us here this morning: Jesus calls us, too, to be servants of the cross, to be partners with Peter and the others in God’s cause in the world. Jesus calls us, too, to deny ourselves, take up our crosses, and follow him.
For some of us, this will mean turning on the sins that have served us so well and killing them with the power of God’s love for us.
For some of us, this will mean giving our lives more fully to the service of the church, or the mission field, or our workplace, or our family, with a newfound dedication to live as Christ lived, and to die for these others as Christ died for us in large and small ways every day.
For many of us, perhaps all of us, it will mean sitting down, taking a deep breath, and stopping trying to be “good enough”—for God, for others, or for ourselves. It will mean ceasing to be our own saviors, or trying to keep up with what the world makes us feel we should be. Because denying ourselves also means accepting God’s love for us. It means choosing to live as God’s free and forgiven people, in the power of his grace.
Because the slavery of the cross is true freedom. The obedience of faith is true grace. Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. And the joy of the Lord is our strength.
So let’s lay down our lives, take up our crosses, and follow him.
Let’s Pray.
Mikael Ivaska 