Text of my sermon from Sunday, September 13th

The 24th Sunday in Ordinary Time; September 13, 2009
Park Avenue Presbyterian Church; Des Moines, Iowa
Texts: Proverbs 1: 20-33
Psalm 19
James 3: 1-12
Mark 8: 27-38 *

“Jesus Christ, Peter Satan, Men and Women Christians”


--} In our day and age, “Christ”—is our word for the Greek, "Cristos," that appears in today’s passage. Yet we most often understand it simply as Jesus’ last name. Who are you? First name: Jesus. Last name: Christ. Jesus Christ. But the truth is that "Cristos," is a word more closely associated with “Messiah” because "Cristos," means “anointed,” or “anointed one”—and it’s a LOADED term.

As one of my colleagues pointed out this week, Jesus doesn’t exactly give check marks or X’s for the disciples answers when Jesus asks, “who do people say that I am, who do YOU say that I am.” And while it’s not a “multiple guess” exam, we still get a variety of responses—John the Baptist, Elijah, one of the Prophets, even “Cristos,” “Messiah;” but there’s no indication for which is right, wrong, or whatever. But what I think we should know is that when Peter offers, “Cristos”—he’s probably not saying what WE think he’s saying.

"Cristos" is a word that describes, “anointing;” a word that resonates with a newly installed officer given power and authority. The Hebrew Bible speaks prominently about the “anointing” of Kings and Prophets who serve as substantial leaders of God’s people. And while Jesus fits this kind of mould, it also seems painfully true in today’s passage that Jesus intends to exercise a very different kind of power. While we can debate what "Cristos" would have meant to Mark’s original audience, I think undoubtedly the vision was more than a “name,” more even than the “title” we ascribe to the word, “Christ.”

Where we see and hear, “Jesus Christ,” when Peter is offering, “Cristos,” in response to Jesus’ question, he’s telling us something very different. Peter is telling Jesus, in effect, “I tell people you are the “Cristos”; and by it, he is revealing Jesus’ identity in a context that we don’t rightly understand. And while it’s hard for us to say exactly what Peter would have meant, it’s definitely accurate to suggest his vision was different from ours. For Peter, Jesus is the one anointed with kingly reign and heavenly power; and his point suggests that Jesus is the one rightfully entitled to a kind of “enthroned power.” And while we find it hard to disagree, such seems diametrically opposed to the power Jesus seeks to exhibit. When Peter answers, Jesus is quick to respond—“don’t tell anybody.”

But turn to verse 31 and we see Jesus proposing something very different from Peter. The power Jesus would have is power defined by “great suffering, …being rejected, …being killed, …and being raised.” None of that, fits the description implied by the word, “Cristos,” because “Anointed one,” “Messiah,” or “Christ” all imply one who’s rightfully entitled to deserve “enthroned power.” The Hebrew scriptures and tradition, offered such a person, one in the royal line of Davidic power, promised to “relieve” the suffering of God’s people. Import that idea into the conflict with the Romans and you’ve got a handy-dandy recipe for social and national revolt. The “messianic” figure offered the promise of bringing God’s power to bear on the earth, and it’d been tried several times already. In short, the best guess may be that Peter is offering Jesus in a traditional visioning of “Cristos;” but my hunch is, Mark is using this opportunity to REDEFINE what “Cristos” really means—for followers like Peter, and followers like us.

The way Mark tells us this story is interesting, too. While Jesus would “teach” disciples and followers that he must suffer, be rejected, killed, and raised,” Peter presumes to treat Jesus not as “teacher,” but as equal. Peter takes Jesus aside and “rebukes” him, as if they were on the same level; just as Jesus will “rebuke” Peter. Same words. Which explains why Jesus would re-orient Peter’s assumptions, telling him plainly—at face value—“get behind me.” Christ-Followers aren’t “equals;” Christ-followers must follow. We don’t get to pick and choose for ourselves; we’re called to “follow.”

And just as we “name” Jesus, “Christ,” Jesus “names” Peter—“Satan”. Again, our language tends to obscure what Mark may have meant, since our “Satan” and Mark’s “Satan” seem decidedly different. There are only 4 references to “Satan” in all of Mark’s gospel. “Satan” is first the “tempter” who appears with Jesus in the wilderness following Jesus’ baptism. In fact, “tempter” might be a better way of describing “Satan” rather than a demonic figure. Satan’s only power is temptation; and in today’s passage, the reference seems to function similarly. If the language is meant to be the same, Jesus paints Peter as a “temptation.”

Because isn’t it always “tempting” to see Jesus as one who could assume the kind of power Peter is suggesting? To see Jesus has having not only a truly Prophetic office, but one that gives him authority on a national level—even a worldly level? He could “replace” the collaborators of his day who preserved their religious “power” by serving Roman aims rather than God’s aims exclusively. He could set the world straight, as we all imagine Jesus should. And how “tempting,” too, for Jesus, who could have another path aside from “suffering, rejection, and death.” But Jesus won’t have it. His insistence in offering another model of leadership is scandalous to us—one that proclaims the value of the less and least by teaching us that life come out of death. Jesus appears as a kind of “re-constructionist” sent to help make people whole again, to restore the lost, to put down demons, illness, and death. Jesus’ vision is enabling people to live the life of the Kingdom of God; but Peter’s vision is that all the power of the Kingdom should reside in Jesus. Jesus would have us believe that the power of the Kingdom of God is “lived out” in all of us as he teaches us by example how to live by the Kingdom’s rules.

Because Jesus has said and continues to say: “follow me.” Actually, what Jesus says in today’s reading is “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” What Jesus says to Peter and the crowd with his disciples is, “follow me.” At least that’s what seems to be meant by, “get behind me,” isn’t it? Jesus’ invitation was “follow me, and I will make you fish for people.” But when the lure of temptation offers us a glimpse of a better life, a different kind of life, one free of risk, one with promised wealth and gain,” Jesus says—in order for us to fight that temptation—“get behind me.”

“Get behind me”—to put it bluntly—means look at my backside. And “follow me,” means “do what I do!” Jesus says, “get behind me; do what I do.” But that’s the trouble with this passage, isn’t it? If we DO what Jesus DOES, don’t we have to hear the hardest part: “For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, …will save it.” “Winning” means “loosing;” “living” means “dying”—or as Jesus puts it, we “must undergo great suffering, be rejected, be killed, and rise again.” Jesus says, “get behind me!” “Don’t tempt me with something else!”

And here, the kind of “kingdom power” Jesus brings to bear isn’t the royal power of privilege and prestige; quite the contrary. Jesus doesn’t protect his own interests, but categorically gives them up. The power we witness here, is the same power that Jesus brought to the ground in Galilee: where people were healed, lives were restored to community, demons that had hindered health and wholeness are put away, sins were forgiven, meals happened where people were fed who otherwise wouldn’t have eaten, fears were addressed, storms were calmed—all the while, the voice of Jesus beckoning, “come, follow me.”

Today’s reading marks a great transition in Mark’s gospel. Chapter nine begins Jesus’ journey to Jerusalem where he’ll meet “great suffering, rejection, death, and resurrection.” In some respects, what Jesus says at the end of chapter 8 could be considered his swan-song. While these aren’t the last words Jesus will ever utter, these words—or these kinds of words—seem very much to be the central, authoritative point of Mark’s gospel. God’s re-construction of God’s world-view in Jesus means our “getting behind Jesus” and “following him.” It means choosing to emulate him in caring for the poor and disadvantaged, restoring wholeness and community, and together beating back illness and death. And Jesus tells us it isn’t the Kingdom’s power established from on high, it’s simply the kingdom’s power established on earth—the kingdom’s power that first we see resident in Jesus—but then is formed for all of us when we get behind and follow!

Today, men and women routinely take the name, “Cristos”—in calling themselves “Christian.” And while we take that to mean some kind of “Christ-follower,” we know we often take the name, but seldom the complete mission. Jesus is determined to lead from the underside; and all of us are pretty good examples of the more well-to-do-side. Always, our temptation is look out for ourselves, to protect what we have—what we’ve earned, to hold on to what is OURS. And what’s so scandalous, is that Jesus walks away from that, as surely as Jesus walked away from Satan in the wilderness. What it means for you and I—men and women—to take on the name of “Cristos” as “followers BEHIND Jesus” is to learn to live with suffering, rejection, death, and resurrection—because Jesus shows us that living the way he does is the only way to live by the rules of the Kingdom of God.

We spout all the time the importance of “following Jesus.” But how often do we check and see how closely behind we really are—or aren’t.

The scandal here, isn’t that Jesus calls Peter, “Satan;” it’s not that Peter calls Jesus “Cristov",” meaning some kind of Messianic kick-butt Jewish authoritarian determined to throw the Romans out of Israel. The scandal here, is that Mark asks believers to live up to Jesus’ name that we all-too-easily claim for ourselves. To live like Jesus, to follow Jesus, is to live in a way that invites great suffering, rejection, and ultimately to give ourselves completely for the life of the Kingdom of God. Jesus says, “get behind me—follow me,” and shows us the way. And if we’re not-so-willing, perhaps we’re not entitled to the name.

For us, “Cristos,” should be more than a title or a name. “Cristos,” means recognizing that the Kingdom’s power is made resident on the earth—not just in Jesus, but in all of us in as much as we are willing to “get behind” and “follow.” Yet it must dare us to fulfill the promise of great suffering, rejection, death, and being raised: “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, …will save it.”

--+ AMEN.