And You, Who Do You Say that I Am? Luke 8:18-24 June 20, 2004, Year C, 3 Pentecost (Proper7) The Rev. William V. Livingston, Rector Church of the Resurrection, Starkville, Mississippi As I drove them to the local park, in the back of our station wagon were our son Christopher, then age 4, and his friend Justin, the son of Joe Burnett, then our priest and now Bishop of Nebraska. Their conversations were those of typical preschool boys: funny things their younger brothers do, seeing a squashed frog in the road, what they didn't like about girls. As their conversation drifted in and out of my attention span I began to hear the word "Jesus" and realized they were having a highly animated debate. The nature of the debate was to name various super heroes - Superman, Spider Man, The Incredible Hulk - and to advocate who would win in a fight between Jesus and the named hero. Their stances included some sound logic. If Jesus were in a fight with the Incredible Hulk and the Incredible Hulk became really angry, he'd probably pulverize Jesus, and Jesus, being the meek guy that he is, probably wouldn't even fight back. However, if Jesus had enough and decided he wasn't going to take anymore, he'd probably throw a mighty curse at the Hulk, and that would be the end of him. As humorous as these preschool boys' christology may seem, it's not that different than the Middle Ages artistic depiction of Jesus with a sword and shield or the abuse of others committed in the name of Jesus that continues today. In Luke's narrative Jesus' is alone praying and asks, "Who do the crowds say that I am?" The crowds have just been miraculously fed with a few fish and loaves of bread and understand that Jesus' mighty works are of the same cloth as those performed and predicted by the prophets. The crowds recognized at least part of the truth. They knew that Jesus had a message for them, an authentic message from God. You can't blame them if they didn't recognize the whole truth. He then makes the question more personal. "Who do you say that I am?" The disciples, through Peter, now show that they have moved to a higher level of understanding that Jesus was the long awaited Messiah. However, it wouldn't be enough to perfect their understanding of his identity. They would need to examine their own self-sacrifice, their own courage, their own glory and shame. It wouldn't be enough to catalog his dying - even in Technicolor. They would need to stand before a starving crowd and ask what meal they were serving a lost humanity. Jesus' own answer emphasizes neither fulfillment of the works of the prophets nor his role as a Davidic king but the necessity of his death and resurrection. Who he is cannot be separated from what he does and what will happen to him. He is on the way to the cross, not to the throne. The passion prediction, placed immediately following Peter's confession, serves as a sharp corrective to any assumptions that Jesus would fulfill expectations of the coming of a descendant of David who would drive out the Gentiles and reestablish the kingdom of Israel. Jesus still asks the same questions. "Who do the crowds say that I am." That's the easy question to answer. We can answer it intellectually and sound very erudite and pious as we do so. We can argue our christological facts as enthusiastically as two 4 year old boys can envision Jesus putting a big hurt on the Incredible Hulk. "But you, who do you say that I am?" Repeatedly the disciples and others around Jesus had asked one another who Jesus was. He did not ask who he was but who they believed him to be. Beyond the question of identity is the issue of confession. Peter gave the best answer he knew, the highest confession he could imagine, but it wasn't enough because it failed to recognize the sacrifice and demand that would be required of any who confessed Jesus to be the Christ. It's the hard question to answer because it leads us to a series of questions - questions that mean most in life, questions of identity and relationship. "Who am I? Who is God? What difference does Jesus make in my life? What is it about my way of being and doing that would not be, could not be, if it were not for having Jesus in my life? Have I really given up control of my life to him? Or are there areas where I am holding out, where my life is not noticeably different from the lives of those who see Jesus as an irrelevant relic of past superstition?" What do our answers to these questions mean for our values, priorities, commitments? The answers cannot be cognitive, rational, intellectual, but must come from our experience and require a commitment of how we live our lives. There are only two impulses in life. One is the impulse to acquire, take, hoard, own and protect. The other is the impulse to give and to serve. One assumes that each of us can be the Lord of our own lives and that our security and fulfillment depend on our ability to provide for ourselves. The other confesses the sovereignty of God and devotes life to the fulfillment of God's redemptive will in delivering and empowering others, establishing justice and peace, tearing down barriers, reconciling persons, and creating communities. In the polarity of spending one's life in the pursuits to which Jesus would direct the disciple or indulging in one's own ambitions and interests, true fulfillment is to be found paradoxically, in the giving up of one's life. However, it is not found in obedience to a string of rules - rules we obey simply because we follow the rules. No, those who follow Jesus must be ready to follow him on the road of obedience to God's redemptive will and sacrifice for the salvation of others. When we proclaim the American Jesus of power and wealth, when we offer false assurance and teach a crossless discipleship, we proclaim a distorted christology. On the other hand, when we preach a crucified Christ, the only authentic response is for one to give up all other pursuits that might compromise one's commitment and devote oneself completely to the fulfillment of the kingdom tasks for which Jesus gave his own life. The nature of our discipleship always reflects our understanding of Jesus' lordship. It is not a readiness to die with Jesus in the hour of persecution but rather that discipleship requires continuing, daily yielding of one's life to the call to follow Jesus: denying yourself, taking up the cross, and following. Frightening? Yes! Difficult? You bet! Discipleship is a continuing process. That means first that however lofty our understanding or obedient our discipleship, most of us are probably not far from Peter - confessing but failing to grasp the implications of our confession; understanding, but only in part; following Jesus, but maintaining our own aspirations and ambitions also. As we come forward to receive the bread and wine, Jesus is still praying alone with his gathered disciples, us, and he still asks, "And you, who do you say that I am." Not just intellectually, not just when you stand up in church on Sunday and recite the Creed, not just when you are enjoying quiet moments of prayer, not just when you are sharing with your fellow Christians, but in those places where your life is lived; in the dark night of the soul; when you are in the presence of those who don't know Jesus, those who aren't interested or even, whether you know it or not, those who might be just a little curious about Jesus? What does the way you live your life say about who Jesus is? Is the joy, the love, the peace that you find in Jesus reflected in the way you live your life? How we answer the question through our day-to-day discipleship is the only answer that matters - but everything depends on that answer. Brothers and sisters, we gather here today in the name of Jesus. We have not come together to celebrate a belated memorial service for a good man who died a long time ago. We come to celebrate the risen Christ in our midst. May his light, the light of the world, a light to enlighten the nations, continue to shine in us. May Christ the Morning Star who knows no setting, find this light ever burning in us - he in whom we live and move and have our being.