Romans 12:1–8
Saint Matthew 16:13-20
Long ages ago when I was in seminary, before the Old Testament was old and the New Testament was really new, whenever I would get stressed or have to think something over I would take a walk on what we affectionately called “the landfill.”
Because the seminary was at Northwestern University this was a landfill only in the most technical sense of the word. It was reclaimed lakefront property, to be sure, but it had well-manicured lawns, lighted pathways, the lake on the east, and a pond in the centre.
The best part was that when one strolled on the path closest to the lake one was afforded some magnificent views. On a clear day, looking south one could see the skyline of downtown Chicago. Looking north there was the magnificent and peaceful Bahi Temple, gleaming in the daylight hours or glowing bright white when lit up against the night sky. When one looked west you could see all of the campus buildings along with the seminary, whose Gothic Revival architecture did not make it look like an office building but a place where monks in long robes would roam the grounds in a posture of prayer. Looks can be deceiving.
When I went for a walk by myself the landfill was a place of solitude. When my roommates came with me, it was not. It was then that the same issues we carried with us in class were discussed, in usual seminary student fashion, ad infinitum. Seminary could be a place where one didn’t just think about things but turned them over and over again in one’s head until the matter was almost pureed.
Sometimes, we even got to the heart of the matter which is exactly what Jesus was doing with his disciples as they walked along.
Regular church goers may have sighed and said to themselves: “Oh my, this old saw again. Jesus asks a question. The disciples get it kind of correct until Peter pipes up with the right answer and then there are smiles and handshakes all around. However, unlike those landfill gab sessions that didn’t amount to much Jesus was getting onto something important.
They weren’t walking not on a beautiful college campus but near Caesarea Philippi which was a trade route, a centre of polytheistic religions and, more importantly, a place whose very name betrayed its true allegiance – to Cesar, the emperor and to Philip, one of Herod’s sons. Caesarea. Philippi. It is in the midst of this centre of commerce, culture, and political power that Jesus asks his important question.
“Who do people say that the Son of Man is?”1
He’s taking a poll. It’s not quite as sophisticated as a CBS News/Marist Poll because he is only dealing with a word of mouth, “what have you heard on the street,” survey but the results are pretty good.
Anybody who got responses like this would be very satisfied.
John the Baptist, Jesus’ cousin, who recently lost his life at the hands of Herod but whose message and movement continued.
Elijah, the hope of divine activity for Israel’s sake.
One of the prophets who delivered the word with creative power.
But Jesus presses further because his question is an important one.
“Who do you say that I am?”—hangs in the air at the intersection of economic trade, religion, and the power of the Empire. It is a question not simply about Jesus’ identity, as if getting the titles right would earn somebody an “A” on a messianic quiz. It is a question about allegiance.
In what or in whom will the followers of Jesus place their trust? Will it be in the privileges deriving from access to opportunity and wealth? In the worship of a prevailing culture’s latest idols? In allegiance to the dominant power of earthly rulers?2
Peter’s answer is that they are going to put their trust in him. “You’re the Christ, the Messiah, the Son of the living God.”3
Those words have been our rallying cry down through the centuries. In Jesus, we have found the one whose teachings are true and the one who we can trust.
As one scholar reminds us:
Confessing Jesus is not a puzzle to be solved by the power of the intellect. It is a gift, pure and simple. As a gift {it is} an awesome responsibility to live into. Furthermore, knowing the proper titles for Jesus is not the same as understanding and embracing the way of being in the world that his identity demands.4
Our identity is as one who walks with Jesus with all of us playing our part. Every one of us! As Saint Paul reminds us, that not only changes our view of the world but of each other.
If your gift is that of serving others, serve them well. If you are a teacher, do a good job of teaching. If you are a preacher, see to it that your sermons are strong and helpful. {Trust me. I’m trying! I’m trying!} If God has given you money, be generous in helping others with it. If God has given you administrative ability and put you in charge of the work of others, take the responsibility seriously. Those who offer comfort to the sorrowing should do so with Christian cheer.5
And then the Saint goes on: “Love from the centre of who you are, don’t fake it.”6
When others are happy, be happy with them. If they are sad, share their sorrow. Work happily together. Don’t try to act big. Don’t try to get into the good graces of important people, but enjoy the company of ordinary folks. And don’t think you know it all!7
Remember that we are all trying our best to walk with Jesus together. That means everybody has a part to play.
I heard Dr. Otis Moss III, say in a sermon once this very thing. All of us have a part to play:
“Whether Anglican or Asian, whether agnostic or Presbyterian, Pentecostal or Baptist, atheist or Jew, Jew or gentile, Muslim or midwestern, Methodist or country, Brethren or Buddhist, country or ghetto, urban or suburban, Lutheran or Latino, whether you are queer or Quaker, Ph.D or no D, jail or Yale, whether you graduated cum laude or “'thank you, Lord'”8 we are all in this, walking together.
May I be so bold to suggest that we will have no better example of how our walk begins and continues as all of us, parents and children of our church and school, join me in greeting Zoe Awande as we gather around the baptismal font as she begins her walk with Jesus.
That’s the beauty of baby baptisms, Zoe can’t walk she may even squawk but as she begins her journey, we gather around her as a sign to her and a reminder to ourselves that she and we do not walk alone. That there are others who have embraced Jesus as Messiah, who are trying to live like him, and who are willing to be there for us when we stumble and fall, or even can’t put one foot in front of another, to remind us that we are not alone but that we are on this walk together.
Some come with me, walk with me, back to the font where we began our life in Christ and then to the Lord’s table where we gain strength for this walk so that together we can go out into the world were that walk continues with each other and with him whom we have confessed to be Jesus Christ our Lord.
1. St. Matthew 16:13. (NRSV) [NRSV=The New Revised Standard Version]
2. Lance J. Pape, “Matthew 16:13-20. Commentary 2: Connecting the Reading with the Word,” essay, in Connections: A Lectionary Commentary for Preaching and Worship, ed. Thomas G Long, vol. 3, Year A (Louisville, KY: Westminister/John Knox Press, 2020), 260–61.
3. St. Matthew 16:16. (MESSAGE) [MESSAGE=Eugene H. Peterson, The Message: The New Testament Palms and Proverbs [Colorado Springs,, CO: NavPress, 1998]]
4. Lance J. Pape, loc. cit.
5. Romans 12:7-8. (TLB) [TLB=The Living Bible. Carol Stream, IL: Tyndale House Publishers, 1972]
6. Romans 12:9. (MESSAGE)
7. Romans 12:15–16. (TLB)
8. Otis Moss, III, “Nothing to Lose.” Sermon preached at the Fourth Presbyterian Church of Chicago, October 24,
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