Monday, March 5, 2012

Lenten Journal: Who Do You Say I Am?

Jesus went on with his disciples to the villages of Caesarea Philippi; and on the way he asked his disciples, “Who do people say that I am?” And they answered him, “John the Baptist; and others, Elijah; and still others, one of the prophets.” He asked them, “But who do you say that I am?” Peter answered him, “You are the Messiah.” And he sternly ordered them not to tell anyone about him.

Then he began to teach them that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again. He said all this quite openly. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. But turning and looking at his disciples, he rebuked Peter and said, “Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”

He called the crowd with his disciples, 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 lives will lose it, and those who lose their lives 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? Those who ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of Man will also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels.”

Who do you say I am?

That is the question above all questions, is it not? We offer Sunday school answers as Peter did. We are eager for that proud look from you, that look which affirms our answer and puts us ahead of the class. Yet we stumble when we learn of the cost of knowing the answer. Instead of earning gold stars we are given a cross and the cross frighten us.

Have you rebuked us? Have you been ashamed when we've denied our cross? Have you said to us “get behind me, Satan”? Have we set our mind on human things and not the divine? Have we mistaken you?

You say if we want to follow you, we are to deny ourselves and take up our own cross. You tell us those who seek to save their lives will lose it. You tell us those who lose their lives for your sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. Does this mean we are to give up our lives for you? Are we to live in such a way in which we put ourselves last?

Are we afraid of the cost?

We have much to lose. We have been taught to protect that which we have created. We have been taught to protect that which we have been given. We have been taught that if we just elect you as President or elect your chosen representative, we will not have to face the cross. We will do anything to avoid such pain. The cross represents more than your death, it represents ours. In the cross we see the cost and pain of following. We see a pain we are not accustomed too. We see a cost that goes against our way of life and our upbringing. In you, in the cross we see all that we have hoped to avoid.

We cannot avoid the cross. We cannot avoid the crucified Christ. We cannot close our ears and shut our eyes in hopes of something better. We cannot dream of the kingdom and avoid the cross as a way. We cannot hope for a Christ and exclude a crucified Christ. “Those who dream of a better life and try to avoid the Cross as a way, and those who hope for a Christ and attempt to exclude the Crucified, have no knowledge of the kingdom of God”; the kingdom of God which cannot endure our way of life.

The kingdom of God does not complete the human; it revolts against the human. The kingdom of God is pushed away by the political powers, the religious authorities, and the holders of tradition because it turns all that we have known upside down to make it rightside up. We react as if we are fighting an infection. If the Christ can make the lame walk, the blind see, and the dead rise, what he could do us frightens us. If the kingdom of God is like a mustard seed, we fear that we cannot control where it goes.

We have worked hard to build our empires. We have created pharaohs out of our money, politicians, and religious leaders and we have become enslaved to them. The Christ has come to set us free and that freedom hurts.

In the Voyage of the Dawn Treader, in a conversation between Eustace and Edmund, CS Lewis alludes to the pain the Christ brings with him and the pain of following him.

“I looked up and saw the very last thing I expected: a huge lion coming slowly toward me. And one queer thing was that there was no moon last night, but there was moonlight where the lion was. So it came nearer and nearer. I was terribly afraid of it. You may think that, being a dragon, I could have knocked any lion out easily enough. But it wasn't that kind of fear. I wasn't afraid of it eating me, I was just afraid of it -- if you can understand. Well, it came close up to me and looked straight into my eyes. And I shut my eyes tight. But that wasn't any good because it told me to follow it.”

“You mean it spoke?”

“I don't know. Now that you mention it, I don't think it did. But it told me all the same. And I knew I'd have to do what it told me, so I got up and followed it. And it led me a long way into the mountains. And there was always this moonlight over and round the lion wherever we went. So at last when we came to the top of a mountain I'd never seen before and on the top of this mountain there was a garden - trees and fruit and everything. In the middle of it there was a well. . . .”

“Then the lion said -- but I don't know if it spoke -- 'You will have to let me undress you.' I was afraid of his claws, I can tell you, but I was pretty nearly desperate now. So I just lay flat down on my back to let him do it.The very first tear he made was so deep that I thought it had gone right into my heart. And when he began pulling the skin off, it hurt worse than anything I've ever felt. The only thing that made me able to bear it was just the pleasure of feeling the stuff peel off. You know -- if you've ever picked the scab off a sore place. It hurts like billy -- oh but it is such fun to see it coming away.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” said Edmund.

“Well, he peeled the beastly stuff right off -- just as I thought I'd done it myself the other three times, only they hadn't hurt -- and there it was lying on the grass: only ever so much thicker, and darker, and more knobly-looking than the others had been. And there was I as smooth and soft as a peeled switch and smaller than I had been. Then he caught hold of me -- I didn't like that much for I was very tender underneath now that I'd no skin on -- and threw me into the water. It smarted like anything but only for a moment. After that it became perfectly delicious and as soon as I started swimming and splashing I found that all the pain had gone from my arm. And then I saw why. I'd turned into a boy again.”

It hurts to follow the Christ. There is a cost to recognizing who is the Christ. And it is that which Jesus tells Peter in his rebuke. It is the cost and pain, Jesus reminds us of when each time we recognize him to be the Christ. A painful cost we cannot avoid. We cannot avoid the cross; for if we do, in hopes of a better life then we lift the things of humans and not the things of the divine.

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