Who Do You Say That I Am?

“Who do people say that I am?”

That was the question he just asked us, only a few seconds ago. We stared at each other wondering (though none of us said it) if he was losing his mind. We weren't even sure if he was speaking to us or lost in a prayer. Sure he was looking directly at us but he had this far off look in his eyes and we just thought he'd spent too much time out in the sun. Then he asked again, “Who do people say that I am?”

I looked around at the other eleven and I prayed that Jesus would not ask me to answer. I looked at him and then looked at the ground and then at the sky, trying desperately to avoid any eye contact. “Some say that you are Moses or Elijah or even John the Baptist come back from the dead,” I heard someone say.

It was Peter.

Oh thank you, sweet mother of Moses for Peter. For he truly is the only one of us brave and dumb enough to answer such a question.

Jesus looked at Peter and said, “Huh, and who do you say that I am?”

Oh don't answer it Peter! At least don't blurt it out! You know how you have a tendency to stick your foot in your mouth. Let the question rest for a second before you...

“You're the Messiah. The Son of God.”

Say something like that.

We all looked at Jesus and then at Peter and back at Jesus, just waiting for a response. Judas whispered, “5 denarii says Jesus rebukes him.”

Then Jesus said, “Hmm...very good. Now don't tell anyone.”

He then began to say to us that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and be killed, and after three days rise again. He said this very simply and loudly. We were stunned by his words and were not sure what we were supposed to say. Then Peter grabbed him by the arm and took him aside and began to rebuke him.

Peter rebuked Jesus! Seriously! I am not kidding you! The man he just called the Messiah, the Son of God, he rebuked him!

We were stunned at Peter's rebuking of Jesus. Of course we were all thinking it. We were all thinking that the Son of Man is not supposed to suffer or die. He's the Messiah, he's the bringer of God's kingdom. He is supposed to set us free and return Israel to former glories. But we weren't going to tell him that but Peter sure did.

Oh Peter.

Jesus turned and looked at us. He had that look in his eyes. Very similar to the one he had when the Pharisees got onto us for not washing our hands. He looked at Peter and said, “Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”

Get behind me, Satan?

Our mind is not on divine things but on human things?

What do you mean, Jesus?

He called the crowd that had been following us and said to them, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? Indeed, what can they give in return for their life?”

The crowd stared at him as words hung in the air. Peter looked down at the ground and we gazed off into space, afraid once more to look Jesus in the eye. And then he said to us, “Truly I tell you, there are some standing here who will not taste death until they that the kingdom of God has come with power.”

He led us on.

And we followed.

Feeding the Dogs Under the Table

From there he set out and went away to the region of Tyre. He entered a house and did not want anyone to know he was there. Yet he could not escape notice, but a woman whose little daughter had an unclean spirit immediately heard about him, and she came and bowed down at his feet. Now the woman was a Gentile, of Syrophoenician origin. She begged him to cast the demon out of her daughter. He said to her, "Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children's food and throw it to the dogs." But she answered him, "Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children's crumbs." Then he said to her, "For saying that, you may go--the demon has left your daughter." So she went home, found the child lying on the bed, and the demon gone. Mark 7:24-30

My dad's a pretty good storyteller and when he asked what I was preaching on this morning and I told him, he shared this story (you might have heard it before):

A cowboy (it's always a cowboy in a Texan story) stopped by a local church one Sunday. As he walked in he noticed everyone was dressed the same. The men all had on jackets and ties; the women were in long dresses. The cowboy removed his hat and sat down. After the service the pastor went over to him and said, “I am glad you worshiped with us this morning and we are glad to have you. I would just like to let you know that we have dress code. If you come back next Sunday you need to dress appropriately.”

The following Sunday the cowboy decided he would go back to the same church. Immediately after walking in dressed in his jeans and t-shirt, the pastor rushed to him saying, “I told you last week, sir, that if you came back you would need to dress appropriately and like the rest of us.” The cowboy politely answered, “It's alright. God and I had a conversation last week about it and God said he hadn't been to this church either so we thought we'd give it another shot.”

Mark is a great storyteller; very purposeful with each story he shares and where it takes place. Mark's stories enhance many of the stories that follow and he groups them together in order to make a strong theological point about God's kingdom and what it means to be a follower of Christ. In many ways, Mark's gospel is the more challenging of the four gospels; especially his miracle stories. He presents the stories in a raw manner that persuades us to examine ourselves and our own theology regarding who Christ is and Christ's purpose.

Our story takes place after Jesus has given a lecture to the Pharisees over the issue of what is clean and unclean; challenging the tradition of what goes inside a person makes them unclean. Jesus says that it is not what goes inside a person but what comes out that makes them clean or unclean and basically declaring all foods clean, Mark writes.

Jesus leaves that place and goes to another. Once he reaches that place he goes inside a house and wished to remain there in secret. He doesn't want anyone to know he's there but of course news travels in a small town and a woman, who's daughter was demon possessed, comes to Jesus and begs him to heal her daughter. He says to her, very coldly, “First let the children eat all they want for it is not right to take the children's bread and toss it to their dogs.” Now, I must admit to you that in my reading, Jesus is very callous towards this woman. Normally, Mark would say that Jesus took compassion on someone before he healed them or before performing some miracle. In this story we do not get a compassionate Jesus; instead Jesus appears to be annoyed that his presence has been discovered and his day off is getting interrupted. And this bothers me and I am not entirely sure why.

Maybe it bothers me because I understand the frustration of needing a day of rest and having that day interrupted with church business or an emergency. I understand that when someone interrupts your time away for an emergency, it can be annoyance but it's not their fault. It's not the woman's fault her daughter is possessed by a demon. It's not her fault that Jesus chose to stay in her village. Life happens and ministry is not something that only takes place when it's convenient. I do not wish to speculate as to why Jesus responds the way he does. Maybe Mark is writing in a tone that I am not picking up. Maybe Jesus is testing her or testing the disciples. We are not told why Jesus responds the way he does but we are told he compares her to a dog; and we are told this after he lectures the Pharisees on what is clean and unclean and their traditions. For me, the context of this passage is important and vital to Mark's gospel.

It is important because Mark's gospel presents a very human Jesus; where as Matthew presents a royal Jesus, Luke presents a messiah of the people, and John presents a very divine Jesus. Mark's gospel challenges us because of Jesus' humanity. It is the only gospel in which Jesus has to perform a miracle twice. For me, Jesus' response to this woman shows the struggle we all have to fully follow God and the gospel.

In his letter, James writes, “My brothers and sisters, do you with your acts of favoritism really believe in our glorious Lord Jesus Christ? For if a person with gold ring and in fine clothes comes into your assembly, and if a poor person in dirty clothes also comes in, and if you take notice of the one wearing the fine clothes and say, “Have a seat here, please,” while to the one who is poor you say, “Stand there,” or “Sit at my feet,” have you not made distinctions among yourselves, and become judges with evil thoughts?”

I believe both James and Mark are inviting us to take a hard look at ourselves, at our church, and at our mission. The hardest part in doing church is coming to terms with our own faults or in our terms, our sins. Who do we choose to favor? Who do we choose to give our good meals to and who do we choose to feed under the table?

One of the most unique acts of kindness and expression of church I have ever seen took place during my trip to Argentina a few years ago. Several years ago the economy in Argentina crashed. People who left for work in the morning and bought breakfast, discovered on their way home that the prices had doubled due to inflation. Much like our Great Depression and our recent recession, many lost their jobs, their investments, and the poor become poorer and the wealthy suddenly found themselves without.

A church in the poor section of Buenos Aires decided to reach out to the wealthy community and established a mission church. Their mission was to take the hope of the gospel to those who were suffering. They said they wanted the wealthy to know that God loved them and that they were worth something even if their banks account said otherwise. They wanted to extend the grace and love of Christ to them because Christ's love does not belong solely to one people.

I think, if we were honest with ourselves, we would admit that we all play favorites or believe God's grace only belongs to a few. Or at least we would admit that when God's grace extends those we might consider “dogs” of society we become uncomfortable and seek to feed the under the table so to speak.

This past weekend my dad and I participated in The McShin Foundation's 8^th Annual Recovery Fest & 3^rd Annual BBQ Cook Off. We've been participating in it for the past three years and it's sort of become our annual father and son camping trip. Some father and sons go off into the woods and sit around campfires; we go off into a parking lot and sit around grills and smokers. The McShin Foundation operates out of Hatcher Memorial Baptist Church's old Fellowship Hall and west wing. Everyday, and you've heard me speak about this before, the church is full of recovering addicts seeking just a little grace and hope.

In many ways the church is like Jesus and the addicts are like the woman. In our humanness we respond as Jesus did to those who are sick, “Let the church be fed first.” But the woman in Mark's story didn't let Jesus' statement dissuade her. In what could be considered a great act of bravery, she challenges Jesus, “Yes, Lord,” she replied, “but even the dogs under the table eat the children's crumbs.” Moved by her bravery and for her reply, Jesus tells, “For such a reply, you may go; the demon has left your daughter.” For many they do not let the church's response or lack of response dissuade them. They come looking for just a crumb of grace and love from those who are overflowing with it.

We all, in some way, are looking for just a crumb of grace from God, are we not? I think for those who are wealthy, financially and otherwise, sometime forget that in an instant our circumstances can change. All it takes is a loss of a job, a tumor, an accident, and we could find ourselves begging for scraps under the table. It's a thin line between those with and those without; that's ugly beauty of our world and of church. Reminds me of another story:

Several years ago, I was told of a story about young man, we'll call Randy. Randy was a college student who marched to the beat of his own drum. He kept his hair shaggy, he wore jeans/shorts and t-shirts, and he walked everywhere barefoot. In class he would sit in the back on the floor against the wall. One day he decided to go and visit the church across the street and in typical Randy fashion walked down to the front and sat on the floor in front of the pulpit. A few church members became uncomfortable when he continued to sit there. An elderly deacon went down and asked if Randy would like to sit with him. Randy shook his head “no” saying that he was comfortable down here in the front.

The deacon went back to his seat and the service began. During the greeting a few others went to Randy and asked if he'd like to sit with them. Each time Randy would respond, “No, I'm comfortable sitting on the floor.” The elderly deacon continued to observe Randy as he would sit cross legged on the floor in front of the pulpit. Halfway through the Pastor's sermon, the elderly deacon left his seat and went over to Randy and instead of asking Randy to sit with him, he sat down beside Randy.

I think the hard part of church is that we end up fighting with one another for a seat at Christ's table. We start change our rules and our doctrines in order to make sure we have a seat at the table. Some of the worst fights in the church revolve around who gets to sit at the table and eat. Usually it is the ones who have been overfed that are fighting and the hungry are begging for the scraps that fall. Perhaps, like the elderly deacon, we should, as a church, begin to find ways to leave our seats at the table and sit beside those who are hiding underneath the table. Perhaps then this community will come to know a life filled with grace and love in Christ. Perhaps then we will be living fully into the prayer we pray every Sunday, “Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.”

May it be so at Bruington Baptist Church in King and Queen county as it is in heaven.