A sermon for 27 August 2023, Year A Proper 16: Peter’s confession of the Christ at Caesarea Philippi

I have been to that place in Galilee, now called Banias. There is a wonderful waterfall there, a spring and dance of living water. I didn’t know back then that its name echoes its past. It was once called Paneas, named for Pan, of Greek mythology. Even earlier, the spring would have been associated with the Baals.^[i] When the Romans annexed the area, and set up Philip, one of the Herod family, as Tetrarch, he named the place Caesarea Philippi. 

It is an apt place for new beginnings. Named and renamed, with Simon Peter’s words the Baals, the gods of Pan and of Rome, the idolatry of empire, all were buried beneath the cataracts, and the name of the living God was spoken over the water, like a baptism.

This is not the first time that the disciples have identified Jesus as the Messiah, their Lord. Out of the storm they called him the Son of God, and they worshipped him (Matthew 14:33). Yet something is different about this moment. As soon as Simon names Jesus as the Christ, the Messiah, Son of the living God, Jesus names him, Peter, the rock, and calls him into his place in the new community of the church that Jesus is building.^[ii]

It was like a baptism when Jesus told Simon, “You are Peter,” when he named him and charged him with his place in the church, the church that Jesus himself would build. I do think that it is important to notice that Jesus promises to build the church himself. “This,” says my commentary, “is part of Matthew’s theology of the continuing active presence of Christ in the church.”^[iii] Commissioning Simon Peter to undergird the church, to hold the keys, to be faithful and wise in its administration does not mean that Jesus has left the building, has left the building entirely to Peter and us, his spiritual descendants. Jesus is the head of the church, and its cornerstone, and its life. He is present and active, or it is not a church. After all, he is the Son of the living God, not an idol of stone.

That is what caught my attention about this exchange, this time around. When Peter says who Jesus is, in heaven and on earth, Jesus says who Peter is in and to and for the community of that faith.

Who we think Jesus is has a bearing on how we understand our place in the church, our role in the community of faith, and our vocation in the world.

I met the man, Jesus. He asked me who I say he is. I told him, You are the way, the truth, you are life. He said, You are Sophia, which means wisdom. I will cause you curiosity, so that you might make out my mystery and the truth of my salvation to the world.

I met that man, Jesus. He asked me who I say he is. I told him, You are the Word of God. He said, You are Mohadissa, the storyteller. I will lay down my words and you will tell my story to those in need of a song to lift their hearts.

I met some friends who said that they had met a man called Jesus, from Nazareth. I said, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” He met me with, “Here is an Israelite in whom there is no deceit!” If I am named Nathanael for the prophet who told truth to King David, he can be no other than the King of Israel. Stranger things have happened, and he tells me stranger things yet will. (John 1:43-51)

Jesus asked me, Who do you say that I am? I said, You are Glory. He said, Then you are Raphael. With you the angels will partner to sing to the highest heavens.

I met a stranger. His hands were scarred, his feet bandaged, he favoured one side with his breath. He said, Foxes have holes, and birds have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head (Luke 9:58). I told him, Tonight you are my guest (for by doing so some have entertained angels unawares) (Hebrews 13:2). He parted in the morning with an odd blessing: You are Chesed, for a bruised reed you did not break, and a dimly burning wick you did not quench. (Isaiah 42:3)

We met Jesus, and he asked us who we thought he was. We told him, We saw you walking upon the water! You are the vessel of God’s power, the brooding Spirit, the Creating One. He said, You are Shiprah, and you are Puah. You will be the midwives of faith and salvation to my people.

I saw Jesus, and he asked me who I say he is. I told him, You are Emmanuel. You are God with us, the very Incarnation of the Divine. He said, You are Adam, the human one. We are family.

Who do you say Jesus is? Who does he say you are?

I went to Banias as a green teenager because I had heard that it was the place of Peter’s confession of Jesus as the Christ; I had no idea how beautiful it would be. It was bordering against no-man’s-land, the strip of scorched earth that separated us from the rocket launchers that punctuated every night with their explosive lullabies, near the Golan Heights with their watching eyes and suspicious and unsettled borders. I didn’t expect that baptism of living water. I should have known the healing properties of bathing, wallowing in the name of Christ, the Son of the living God, even under the shadow of death, war, and idolatry.

We are his church. He builds us, names us, raises us, sustains us. When we call upon him, when we call him who he is, he tells us who we are, each beloved and called and vital, because we belong to Christ, and to the living God.

^[i] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Banias

^[ii] The New Interpreter’s Bible, Volume VIII

^[iii] The New Interpreter’s Bible, Volume VIII, 345

Year A Proper 16 readings: Exodus 1:8-2:10, Psalm 124, Romans 12:1-8 ,Matthew 16:13-20

The Banias Waterfall in the Golan Heights. Author: Nahum Dam (2004), via wikipedia