Sermon for the Seventeenth Sunday after Pentecost (September 15, 2024)

Gospel: Mark 8:27-38

Who do you say that I am?

Of all the questions Jesus asks of the disciples throughout the Gospels, I’m particularly drawn to this one from today’s reading in Mark. In this moment he’s not asking them “Where do you think I’m leading you?” or “What do you think I’m doing?” He’s asking them if they know who he truly is.

This question and the one asked just before – “Who do people say that I am?” – point to an important distinction between the views and expectations at that time of prophets and the messiah. Look back through the history of God’s people and you’ll find a wide range of both great and lesser prophets. Think of Isaiah, Elijah, Elisha, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, John the Baptist, and many, many others. People were familiar with prophets because they were a major part of their religious heritage, their voices being lifted above the people at crucial moments or important periods.

A messiah, however – the Messiah – wasn’t a regularly appearing figure. They were expected to come just once. As such, Peter’s answer – an answer given on behalf of all the disciples – is important because he doesn’t see Jesus as just anyone else, one among many prophets who came and went. He sees Jesus as the expected one.

You are the Messiah.

With all the times we shake our heads or do a “face palm” because of how Peter responds or acts, here we want to cheer him. He got this right! Yet despite this he and the other disciples are told to keep quiet on this point. Why does Jesus tell them to be silent, to keep to themselves what’s referred to as the messianic secret? To understand this, it’s important to remember the meaning wrapped up in the title “messiah.” The people of that day expected the messiah to bring about revolution against the powers and principalities – to be someone leading a military movement, not a religious one.

If our view 2,000 years later shows us anything it’s that Jesus was indeed a revolutionary leader, if not a military one. He did confront the powers and principalities of his day, inspiring later Christians throughout history to call out power and authority whenever necessary in their own times. But on that day in Caesarea Philippi, an area filled with temples dedicated to the emperor Augustus and other Roman gods, Jesus understood that word getting around of Peter’s recognition would be dangerous. It was safer to keep quiet and prevent the possibility of misunderstanding the truth of what’s happening.

But then Jesus goes further: I, the one you’ve said is the Messiah, am going to be rejected by the world and killed. He also said he would rise again after three days, but as I’ve preached in the past on this passage Peter and the others didn’t bother listening to the end of Jesus’ proclamation. They simply stopped when they heard he would die. Yes, they missed the most important part of his prediction – but had they listened all the way through I don’t think the impact of what Jesus said next would have necessarily been as great. In fact, I’m not sure it would have been needed in that moment.

First, he chastises Peter for not taking a view of the situation in the way God would, but rather how humans would (“Get behind me, Satan!”). Then, he moves into a brief but significant explanation of what it means to be a disciple. Discipleship presented a hard road for contemporary followers of Jesus, a road built on self-denial, rejection, suffering, and possible martyrdom. For us today, discipleship ¬– true discipleship – can also be a difficult path to follow. Now as then it requires commitment and – perhaps even more importantly – perseverance. Tackling the ills of the world, the principalities and powers at work in many ways in our homes and communities, most definitely requires perseverance.

The German theologian and writer Dietrich Bonhoeffer didn’t just write about the challenges of discipleship; he lived them. He committed himself to confronting the power of Nazi Germany, and despite the persistent, ever-present threat to his own safety he persevered. Ultimately it cost him his life, as he was murdered just a few weeks before the end of the war in Europe in 1945. In his book The Cost of Discipleship he wrote not only about the need to authentically follow Jesus but also about the cheapness of grace when we don’t. As he said,

When the Bible speaks of following Jesus, it is proclaiming a discipleship which will liberate mankind from all man-made dogmas, from every burden and oppression, from every anxiety and torture which afflicts the conscience. If they follow Jesus, men escape from the hard yoke of their own laws, and submit to the kindly yoke of Jesus Christ… And if we answer the call to discipleship, where will it lead us? What decisions and partings will it demand? To answer this question we shall have to go to him, for only he knows the answer. Only Jesus Christ, who bids us follow him, knows the journey's end. But we do know that it will be a road of boundless mercy. Discipleship means joy. 

Here I’d like to turn his question back on us: Who do people say that we are? When people look at us as worshippers at St. Stephen’s, as Episcopalians, as Christians, as members of the community, what do they see – and what do they see us doing? Do the see us following the easy path, or do they see us following Jesus down the costly – but joyful – path of discipleship? Before answering, however, there’s also another preliminary question we must answer, one I’ve borrowed from one of my favorite films, “The Untouchables.”

For those who haven’t seen it, Sean Connery plays James Malone, a beat cop from the streets of Chicago in 1930. Kevin Costner plays Treasury agent Elliot Ness, tasked with bringing down Al Capone and his organized crime empire. Things don’t always go Ness’ way, and at one point he feels like he’s reached a dead end. Malone says to him, “You said you wanted to get Capone. Do you really wanna get him? You see what I’m saying is, what are you prepared to do?” Ness replies, “Anything within the law.” Malone continues, “And then what are you prepared to do? If you open the can on these worms you must be prepared to go all the way.”

As Jesus explained it to his followers that day, discipleship requires being prepared to go all the way. For those on this day I again turn to Malone’s question: What are you prepared to do? To be God’s disciples in our world, to help our neighbors and to challenge the ills impacting so many, what are we prepared to do?

May we be led to identify the challenges. May we be led to discern what we can do, in ways great and small. May we be bold in our commitment and strong in our perseverance. May we answer the challenge issued to the disciples on that day in first century Israel and see what we today can lose in our own lives for the sake of the gospel, and for Jesus.

Amen.