Who Do You Say That I Am?

Proper 19B - Sept 15, 2024

Rev Sarah Colvin

You can find this week's readings here.

Many of you know that I was in a formal career a medical examiner, the deputy chief for DC. I The chief’s administrative assistant used to admonish me with the text from the Epistle of James, usually after a long day in the morgue, because after a long day in the morgue, I would inevitably cuss like a sailor. So, when I hear the passage from James, memory of being admonished always pops in my head.

Evidently this week I was trudging down memory lane, because I also remember almost verbatim a theological conversation with a detective. It was a rare opportunity to have an informal non-judgmental discussion with someone about what they believe. I had left the office for seminary, but still had to testify, and he was driving me to court soon after. This particular detective was pretty much unshakeable, having headed up the Special Victim’s unit. Probably because we had shared such hard cases together, he really wanted to talk with me. He really wanted to talk to me about his beliefs. So, Detective Carlos proceeded to tell me that he is Roman Catholic and that he felt that Jesus came to humanity because God didn’t get it right the first time. Unlike after I was ordained as a priest, this conversation had much less editing and was somewhat off the cuff conversation. I think maybe there was a desire for affirmation that what one believes could pass muster, and at the same time he seemed less concerned that what one believes might be considered wrong or heretical.

Now we say a creed of every week. Usually this is the Nicene Creed. For many of us, during Covid, we said Morning Prayer, and then said the Apostle’s Creed. However, even though we give voice to our beliefs in some way, for the most part, we really don’t discuss what we believe. I hazard to guess that every person, if you turned and spoke with your neighbor in the pew about what can be considered your core beliefs, it would be only a matter of a few minutes before we found marked differences among us. Having differences is okay and maybe it is even good; just let us not think that it was only the disciples that had mixed opinions as to who Jesus was and is. I would wager that if you do nothing else today or even this week, try to formulate an answer to the question of “who do you say Jesus is?” Your answer likely will be at least somewhat different, maybe even very different, than your spouse, children or neighbor and your answer may surprise even you. What we share - what makes us Christian – is our hope in God that Jesus is crucial to our human flourishing. What we believe about HOW God does what God does in Jesus has had many different Christian answers. So, also do not be afraid with your answer.

Besides this question, the Gospel this week gets even more complicated when for the Gospel, Peter nails the answer to the question “who do you say that I am?”. He gets the extra credit answer that Jesus is the Messiah. Perhaps I should say that Peter nails that question, “for once”, or “finally.” Poor Peter, he gets such a bad rap, but for once Peter is finally spot on.

But as we hear in the Gospel reading, it is even more puzzling for the disciples and for us when Jesus explains that Peter’s notion of Messiah is different than Jesus’s notion of Messiah. Jesus explains that the Messiah must undergo suffering. This answer is so puzzling for Peter that he rejects Jesus’ explanation. Many of us are often baffled by the explanation as well.

Now Peter may have been struggling with the concept of a Messiah suffering, for as the anointed one, Peter was understandably expecting a king to lead Israel to better times. But many of us, and in fact many theologians over the centuries have instead struggled with the term “must.” Why does Jesus say that this suffering is required? Why is death and suffering a necessity?

Anselm, Archbishop of Canterbury in the 11th century, puts forth the theory that suffering and death is required to somehow resolve the tension between God’s righteousness and God’s mercy. There is some sort of debt to be repaid for the original fall, and being merciful, God finds a way to pay it FOR us. Not to get too technical – bear with me for a moment! – but this is somewhat foundational for one version of atonement theory— what theologians call forensic penal substitutionary atonement theory, (this forms the heart of most of the rite 1 prayers and prayer A of our rite 2 Eucharistic prayers… ). One problem with this is that it puts God over Jesus, and then makes God require violence be done to Jesus. Another problem is that it makes a system outside of God – in this case the medieval system of honor-satisfaction – then has command or jurisdiction OVER God, so that even God has to follow its rules. … not really how the concept of God is usually construed.

Now there is not just one doctrine of atonement, there are many, but very briefly put, the concept of atonement is that somehow through Christ we are able to be made “at one” with God. I’ll share what I find a more compelling approach than that honor-satisfaction approach - which relies more on the early church’s theology. Gregory of Nazianzus and Augustine both, write of Jesus needing to experience the breadth of human pain and suffering and death in order to bring reconciliation. Athanasius of Alexandria put it this way: “That which is not assumed is not healed.” Anything human that is not known, not taken up, not touched by the Divine, could not be made whole.

Now so far, this may seem perhaps a little academic, but I promise you that where I am going is actually really practical. The answers to these questions poignantly matter.

Your answer to the question of “Who do you say that I am?” is foundational to the answer to the question I pose to you, which is, “what do you do because of who you say that I am?” Whatever your answer is defines, in a sense, what you think Christianity is about. You receive the body of Christ, you receive atonement, so that you can also bring redemption into the world in whatever manner that is. As Augustine said about the Eucharist, you receive the Body of Christ in order to BE the Body of Christ.

To become part of the Divine, as Christ is part of God, we are all drawn into that, we are all becoming the body and blood of Christ in the world to offer healing for others, for ourselves, for all, for the world. This is the life that you gain, because you lose the life that you thought was everything, instead you gain the life of Christ given for you. And the closer you come to the life that God has in store for you, the freer you become. We are free to be part of the redemption of the world. We are free to lose our life in God’s life. Nothing else matters. And we can do this because God first touched all that we are and drew it up into God’s own life.

The life of the world gets drawn back to God even if it was never REALLY lost to begin with – even if my detective friend thought so. Perhaps healing and atonement comes in RECOGNIZING that we were never lost to God’s love. Perhaps the atoning, the healing, is being drawn closer to God. There may be many ways to say it, because it is indeed wondrous; but redemption and reconciliation and atonement are possible somehow through Christ. Like the psalmist’s sun in the sky, which “from the uttermost edge of the heavens…runs about to the end of it again” so that “nothing is hidden from its burning heat’: so the love of God has touched every part of us in Jesus, everything is taken up, every part of the human experience, so that in all our experiences we may know that love, and then also BE that love for others, BE the body of Christ in the world.