Rom. 12:1-8
Matthew 16:13-20
I was 25 or 26 years old. A woman who had participated in the groups that I led at the church came to my office. She was concerned with the state of her spiritual life – even a bit discouraged that here she was in her late 50’s or early 60’s and she still wasn’t entirely sure what she believed or understood about her faith. She commented, “And look at you. You are so young, and already you have it all together.” I assured her that I was a sinner, making my way like the rest of us. And though I don’t remember the whole conversation I do remember thinking that this woman’s faith was greater than she knew. She did mission trips, and book studies, and attended worship every week, but most impressive to me was her openness to God, her readiness to be formed by her best guesses at God’s will, and her desire to know more.
I think that when you take a kind of humble approach to your faith like this you are also bound to be aware of your uncertainties. And since we are told or just assume that uncertainty in the face of faith is bad it can leave us feeling uncomfortable. It was ironic, but I remember hoping that I would be as open and humble with my faith as this woman when I reached her age.
In our Epistle lesson this morning Paul tells the Christians in Rome to be transformed. “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds.” The question that comes to mind in response is “How?” How does it happen? Do you ever think or pray, “Okay, transform me!” but nothing much seems to happen?
I was just reading an article about the Pope’s decision to spend time visiting with American televangelists, one of whom shared that he was a Christian for many years before he was converted to being a real Christian. He lamented that there are many Christians out there who don’t really “know Jesus.”
Statements like that have always confused me. Do I know Jesus the way he knows Jesus? Probably not, I’m thinking. How does he know that what he knows is right? He’d probably say that he just knows. But then, so would others. Mormons say they know Jesus, but the Jesus they know seems a lot different than the Jesus I was taught. And, that’s not to disparage anybody. I’m just saying that maybe “knowing” isn’t the right word. It seems too subjective, too sudden, and too all-or-nothing. Who ever said that knowing is what we are supposed to be about as disciples of Jesus anyway? Is “knowing” the true sign of transformation?
In my mind transformation happens over time – over a whole lifetime! – and it has a way of sneaking up on us. God is working on us and in us even when we’re not aware of it, and there is always more of God to know and be transformed by.
“Who do you say that I am?” Jesus asks his disciples point blank. It’s always struck me as a scary moment. It’s test time. What are you going to say? What do YOU think? Peter has the courage to answer. “You are the messiah, the son of the living God.”
“Right!” “Exactly right,” says Jesus. “Peter, you are the rock on which I will build my church!”
And then, in the very next passage Jesus begins to tell his disciples that he must suffer and die on a cross and rise again.
“Wait a minute’” Peter says. “You said I was right, but that’s not what I meant!” This then leads to that very famous response. “Get thee behind me Satan.”
Peter, of course, was right. But then he learns that there is more. There is always more.
What I like is that Jesus puts so much stock in imperfect people, people who are so obviously “on the way” and not “at the end.” Jesus just assumes that we are works in progress and he seems more comfortable with it than we often do.
A former professor of mine, Peter Hawkins, shares his “Who do you say that I am” experience in a sermon for the Christian Century. He was hiking with friends along the California coast, talking about life and love and politics, hearing their thoughts on Buddhist meditation and their various personal practices of faith when he mentioned his Christian belief. The tone of the conversation changed. “How can you believe all that stuff?” “Do you think that all other religions are wrong?” “Was Jesus the only Son of God?” Suddenly, he was put to the test.
He reflects, “I failed pretty miserably that day. … I wager that my friends thought I had fudged. Shouldn’t a professor of religion be able to render a better account of the hope that is in him?”
He continues, “I am not sure I can do much better now. I confess that Jesus is the Son of God, the bread of heaven, but I would never tell someone else that his or her religion was false. I affirm week by week that Jesus was born of the Virgin Mary but also understand my friends’ incredulity at such an affirmation. I cannot explain Christ’s presence in the Eucharist; I only know that I cannot imagine my life without that bread and wine, or apart from the church that continues to keep the feast. I live, in other words, in a mess of imprecision, on the edge of the land, between sea and sky.
But if anyone were to ask me if I would care to simplify my muddle by walking away from it, then I would repeat the words that Simon Peter spoke when he too was given the chance to skip out. “Lord, to whom can we go?”[1]
In the Gospel of John the version of today’s test is a bit different. Followers of Jesus are drifting away, dropping out after it seems that he’s become a bit too much to handle. Jesus asks Peter if he wishes to do the same. And, Peter replies, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to know and believe that you are the Holy One of God.” So Peter and the others continue to follow.
Professor Hawkins concludes his sermon, “What Peter said to his Lord comes as close to bedrock as anything I know, and comes nearer to stating my bare belief than the more elaborate affirmations I make week after week. …There it is in a nutshell: an affirmation to stake a life on, a Lord not to explain but to follow.”[2]
Who is Jesus? He is Lord; he is messiah; he is the Holy One of God. He has lots of names, but most of all, he is the one whom we follow – the one who guides us into the mystery of God.
[1] http://www.christiancentury.org/article.lasso?id=1134
[2] ibid