Matthew 16:13-20, Romans 12:1-8
When Allan and I began at the Baptist Theological Seminary at Richmond, VA, Tom Graves
was the president. He led the procession of faculty members in the first convocation we
attended in the fall of 1996 (30 yrs ago) as he did every year with a white hand towel
draped over his left arm. Dr. Graves had made the servant’s towel a symbol the seminary
adopted from its very first convocation. And every student received one upon their
graduation embroidered with our names. It was a symbol of calling to a world that needed
servant-leaders. Dr. Graves set the example from the start.
Three years ago this month, Tom Graves passed away, after years of living with MS. At the
time, one of our professors, Dr. Linda McKinnish Bridges, wrote a tribute to him. It
reminded me so clearly of something he said (asked, really) at every convocation:
Students would hear his polished, public speaking voice, which had been shaped by
years of collegiate debate, at the beginning of every fall term, when he welcomed
the new and old students to campus. The cadence and timbre of his voice still rings
in my ears to this day. He would pause from the traditional presidential welcome
speech, stand on his heels and lean into the pulpit, and then boldly and loudly ask,
“WHY are YOU here?”
The inquiry was not condescending judgment but an honest invitation to engage in
self-reflection, to begin an open dialogue about commitment to ministry, to the
challenges of the rigors of advanced theological study and the simple but daunting
command of Christ to serve others.1
Why are you heeeere? Dr. Graves asked us this clarifying question every year.
It’s a very similar kind of question to the ones Jesus is asking in our gospel passage today.
“Who do people say that the Son of Man is?”
“And how about you? Who do you say that I am?”
They are pointed questions. Clarifying questions.
Posed to his audience of closest disciples here in Matthew 16, but also powerfully
clarifying questions for us to consider today. One of our own identifying statements as a
body is that we are committed to faithfully thinking. These questions challenge us to think,
wonder, and then answer Jesus’ questions for ourselves: Who do people (out there) say
that I am? And what about you, Weatherly, who do you say that I am?
The people in and around Caesarea Philippi, Jewish and non-Jewish, have a few opinions
about who Jesus might be. Some say John the Baptist. Did they believe as Jesus once said
(Matthew 11:11) that no greater man had ever been born from a woman than John? So,
this must be him. No, those who witnessed his baptism know Jesus is not John. Others
thought Jesus was some sort of recycled prophet, reaching back to Elijah, or maybe
Jeremiah. Is God still reliant upon these prophets of old, reincarnated, to lead, teach, and
heal the people? Very soon, Peter, James and John will witness Jesus standing on the
mountain of transfiguration next to Moses and Elijah. No, God is not recycling prophets.
God is doing something altogether new in the person of Jesus.
The disciples seem puzzled about answering Jesus’ next question. No one speaks. Until
Peter, again, emerges as the spokesperson for the Twelve. Peter’s confession clarifies for
the first time precisely who Jesus is. “You are the Christ, the son of the living God”
(Matthew 16:16). Peter is singled out and celebrated for his answer. It isn’t his best guess,
nor something he came up with on his own, or read in a book. This truth has been revealed
to him, Jesus says, by heaven above. “God himself let you in on the secret of who I am, and
now I am going to tell you who you really are!”2
Peter receives Jesus’ blessing threefold. 1) The church, the ekklesia, will be built upon “this
rock”; 2) that the church will prevail against the gates of death; and 3) that the keys of the
kingdom of heaven will be given to Peter.
Because of these verse, so many jokes start with “St. Peter was standing at the Pearly
Gates when…” An engineer arrives and stands before St. Peter. “Why are you here?” asks
St. Peter, and then he is mistakenly sent to Hell (of course). While down there he sees that
he can make some improvements, so he gets busy and installs air conditioning, flushing
toilets, and an escalator. Soon, God realizes the mistake and calls down to the devil to send
the engineer back to heaven. The devil says, “No way, I’m keeping him here, besides, what
are you going to do, sue me?? Where would You find a lawyer?”
Today, I want us to think faithfully about the first part of Jesus’ blessing, “upon this rock, I
will build my church.” Upon this rock? It’s a pun with Peter’s nickname, Petros, Rocky. It’s
also a metaphor I want us to explore later. Jesus says that he will build his church on the
petra, a word close to Peter’s name, that means bedrock. Many readers through the
centuries have interpreted this bedrock to be Peter himself. In fact, St. Peter’s basilica in
Rome has the sarcophagus of Peter’s body as a literal cornerstone.
But several scholars agree that Jesus is referring to something other than Peter.3
The
interpretation is more like this, As sure as you are called Rocky, on this rock of what you have
just said I will build my church.4
It’s not a person on which the church will be built, it’s a
truth, not just any truth, but this confession – that Jesus is the Christ, the son of the living
God. Christ’s church will be built, not on what is no longer living – the likes of Elijah,
Jeremiah, and John, but on the living, dynamic expression of God. The church won’t be
built on a static version of God based on communication of the past. Jesus is the Messiah
of the living God. Jesus is a living being who continues to speak and act for God. In him,
God is still creating, still redeeming, and making things whole.5
This is the good news if we have ears to hear it. Because it means that the church
continues to be built on OUR confessions of who Jesus is. What we know and what we can
say about who Jesus is to us ought to be grounded in our own experience of him.
My confession of who Jesus is to me goes like this: Jesus, who I try to follow, is human and
Divine. He is generous and he is just. He is the good Shepherd and he is a prophet who
turns tables over. He is a fellow traveler who walks with me, who has already experienced
every hardship I endure and every joy I celebrate. I think of him as the fullest
representation of who God is. He helps me know God. I experience him as the passionate
leader of a social justice movement and a pastor who is trying his best to meet his people
where they are. I experience him every time we gather around this table with grace-filled
eyes. I see him rising up out of the water of his own baptism, dripping wet and anointed by
the Spirit, whenever I stand in those waters with someone following in his footsteps. I
trust that he is not the Messiah that his people were hoping for because he is leading
change from the inside out. The transformation he’s calling us to – starts in the heart. He
wants it to be authentic and not coerced. “Not to be conformed, but transformed.”
Authors, podcast preachers, pastors and leaders, our parents, our siblings, Sunday school
teachers will tell you what to think about Jesus, but in the end we have to decide for
ourselves. Like Peter, in conversation with the living God, you get to decide who Jesus is.
You get to answer, why are you here?
Isn’t it strange that Jesus would make such a big deal about Peter’s confession and then
ask the disciples to keep it to themselves? Tell no one that he is the Messiah. How shall
they build on this truth if they don’t tell it?
Perhaps, for now, Jesus is calling them to live their lives, their love, their mission out loud.
You can stand on the corner with a bullhorn if you want, but actions speak louder than
words. Welcoming the children, feeding the hungry, caring for the sick, sitting with the
grieving, setting a place at the table for the stranger, working on behalf of the poor, the
voiceless… These are the answers to Jesus’ question. We answer them every day with how
we choose to live among our neighbors.
When Jesus asked his disciples that clarifying question, it was a deeper inquiry than “who
do they say that I am?” It was another way of asking these beloved followers, Why are you
following me? Why did you leave everything you knew? Why are you here? 6
I think Jesus wants us all to answer his question for ourselves. Maybe that’s another
reason why he discouraged them from going around telling everybody he was the Christ.
Let them learn for themselves. If we’re doing it right, if we’re loving and serving out loud.
They will know the answer.
Why are you here? Who is Jesus to you? May God give us the courage to answer these
questions with words, but more than that, with our lives. Amen.
1 https://baptistnews.com/article/the-man-with-a-servants-towel/
2 Peterson, Eugene, The Message, Matthew 16:17-18
3 Garland, David, Reading Matthew
4 Ibid. p. 171
5 Smith, Mitzi
6 Barreto, Eric, Working Preacher commentary on Matthew 16:13-20, 2014