Perhaps you’ve noticed it
before. But as you read through the gospels you’ll find that Jesus is constantly
asking questions. He puts them to strangers; he puts them to his critics; he
puts them to his closest friends. He asks questions in moments of crisis. He
asks questions when he already knows the answer. He asks questions that make
people uncomfortable…
You’d think it would be the other
way around—that people would have questions for him. And certainly we do meet
with people who came to Jesus with questions of their own. But no, by far the greatest
number questions in the gospels are posed, not by Jesus’ disciples, not by
people in the crowds who gathered to hear him, not by those he met along the
dusty roads of Galilee and Judea, but by Jesus. Here are just a few among the
many that I came across as I leafed through the gospels in preparation for this
morning:
· To a couple of John the Baptist’s disciples set on following him:
“What are you looking for?” (John 1:38).
· To a paralyzed man lying helplessly on his mat: “Do you want to be
made well?” (John 5:6)
· To his disciples after healing another
paralyzed man, “Which is easier, to say, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say,
‘Stand up and walk’?” (Mark 2:9)
· To a woman caught in the act of adultery: “Woman, where are
your accusers? Has no one condemned you?” (John 8:10)
· To a blind man sitting by the roadside: “What do you want me to do
for you?” (Mark 10:51)
· To a crowd of listeners gathered to hear him: “Can any of you by
worrying add a single hour to your span of life?”
· And a moment later to that same multitude: “Why do you worry about
what to wear?” (Matthew 6:27,28)
· And not very long after that: “Why do you see the speck in your
brother’s eye but ignore the beam in your own?” (Matthew 7:3)
· And to
another crowd: “If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you?” (Luke 6:32)
· To a circle
of his critics trying to find a way to undermine him: “Is it lawful to do good
on the Sabbath or to do evil?” (Mark 3:4)
· Holding up a coin before another cluster of detractors he asked, “Whose
head is on this, and whose title?” (Matthew 22:20)
· To a group of his followers he posed this one:
“What good can it be for someone to gain the whole world in trade for their
life?” (Matthew 16:26)
· And after they had been tossed about in their boat by a violent
storm at sea and practically scared out of their wits: “Where is your
faith?” (Luke
8:25)
· Finally and most poignantly, to the disciple Peter following his
resurrection: “Do you love me?” “Do you love me?” “Do you love me?” (John 21:17)
Jesus’ question
So perhaps we shouldn’t be surprised when
this morning’s gospel reading opens with Jesus asking yet another question. And
on this occasion he addresses it to the disciples: “Who do people say the Son
of Man is?”
Now we mustn’t think that it was as though
Jesus were attempting to carry out some kind of first-century opinion poll. Frankly
I can’t imagine that Jesus was all that concerned about what people thought
about him. He was not like contemporary politicians, constantly checking the latest
surveys to find out their standing among the public.
Jesus didn’t have any need to worry himself
about that kind of thing, because he was perfectly secure in his identity.
Elsewhere he confided to his disciples, “I have come … not to do my own will, but the
will of him who sent me.” (John 6:38) It was plain that Jesus’ path was
not determined by public opinion, but by the mission entrusted
to him by his heavenly Father—and he knew that that mission would lead ultimately
to his rejection and death.
So it is that when you look at the gospels,
who did Jesus spend most of his time with? By and large it wasn’t the movers
and the shakers. It wasn’t the influencers. It wasn’t the affluent or the
well-heeled. It was the poor and the downtrodden, the crippled, the incurable,
the prostitutes, the tax collectors and those pushed off to the sidelines of
society.
But going back to Jesus’ question in this
morning’s gospel reading, I imagine there was a gap of barely a few seconds
before the answers came tumbling out from the disciples: “Some say John the Baptist.” “Others are thinking
along the lines of Elijah.” “Still others are putting you in a category with Jeremiah
or one of the prophets…” Jesus had been the talk of the town wherever he went.
Even King Herod had heard about him. But in fact none of that stood behind
Jesus’ motivation for asking the question, “Who do people say I am?”. The real
question he was aiming at was the one he asked next: “But who do you say
I am?”
Peter’s response
Now at this point I imagine that there was more
than a brief pause. In my mind’s eye I can picture the disciples all standing
there in dumbfounded silence. We can hardly blame them. For I wonder, how often
have you or I taken the time to give serious thought to this question? Sunday
by Sunday we repeat the words of the creed: “God from God, Light from Light,
true God from true God…” But when did we last give them any meaningful
consideration? Have we ever reflected on their consequences? Have we asked,
what does all this mean for me, for the way I live my life today? When you take
a moment to think about it, the implications are massive and have the potential
of touching on every area of our lives.
But, going back to our gospel reading, it
was predictable that Peter would be the one to answer—honest, impetuous,
impulsive Peter. I can’t think he had to reflect for more than a fraction of a
second before he found himself blurting out: “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God!”
Remember that Peter had been among
the first to respond to Jesus’ challenge to “Follow me…” He had wasted no time in
leaving his boat and his nets behind to accompany Jesus (Matthew 4:18-20).
It was Peter who had fished all night and had nothing to show for it. He began
to object when Jesus said, “Let down your nets for a catch.” But his skepticism
was proved wrong when his nets couldn’t contain the fish that were flipping
back and forth to the point of almost sinking their boats (Luke 5:4-9).
It was Peter who at Jesus’ word stepped out of his boat onto the roiling sea in
the midst of a raging storm and began to walk towards him (Matthew 14:22-33). And later, in the darkness of Gethsemane on the eve of Jesus’
crucifixion, it would be Peter who would take out his sword and slice off the
high priest’s servant’s ear to prevent Jesus’ arrest (John 18:10).
And so it was hardly a surprise, when Jesus
asked, “Who do you say I am?” it would be Peter who would respond: “You are the
Messiah, the Son of the living God.”
Jesus’ promise
Now I suspect that Peter did not come to
this conclusion entirely on his own. In my mind’s eye I can see the disciples
clustering together on more than one occasion—perhaps following one of Jesus’
miraculous acts, perhaps after listening to another of his arresting parables.
And I can hear them asking themselves, as they did after Jesus calmed that
violent storm at sea, the waves swamping their boat and threatening to take
them all down with it: “What sort of man is this, that even winds and sea obey
him?” (Matthew
8:27).
The question of who this Jesus was had to
have occupied the minds of the disciples for some time. But it always would
have remained a question. What they must increasingly have been wondering
seemed too stupendous to be true. Now it was Peter who gave voice to their
growing suspicion: “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.”
In a moment’s time I will ask you to stand
and invite you to affirm that same faith in Jesus in the words of the Nicene
Creed. It will not be a spontaneous outburst as it was with Peter. Instead, it
will be in the carefully crafted words that have been echoed down through the
centuries by men and women of faith.
However, let us not allow their familiarity
to lull us into simply rattling them off. Let us place ourselves with Peter and
the other disciples as Jesus asks not, “Who do people say I am?” Not, “Who does
the church say I am?” But, “Who do you say I am?” And let us
answer in humble amazement and with full conviction of faith…
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