Sermon for Sunday, August 23

Biblical Passage: Matthew 16:21-28

Our question of the day is: Who is Jesus—to you?  Or to echo Jesus’ own question to the disciples: who do you say Jesus is?  There is no “right” answer.  Of course, I can describe the basic historical person of Jesus, and we can both study his words and actions as found in Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John.  We can pick up books like Meeting Jesus Again for the First Time by Marcus Borg or John Dominic Crossan’s Jesus: A Revolutionary Biography and have our expectations of the historical Jesus challenged.  We can read extra-biblical texts to discover what gospels that failed to make it into the Bible say about Jesus.  We can unearth writings of the ancient historian Josephus and learn what non-Jesus followers knew about him.  But finally, after all that reading and study, we still confront Jesus’ question: who do you say that I am?  Notice that, when Jesus and the disciples arrive at Caesarea Philippi, Jesus first asks them: Who do people say that I am?  But he quickly pivots to a far more personal inquiry: who do you say that I am?  When the disciples tell Jesus what other people have said: John the Baptist, Elijah, Jeremiah, or one of the prophets, Jesus doesn’t even acknowledge their answers, but when Peter replies, “You are the Messiah, the son of the living God,” Jesus breaks into praise.  Jesus breaks into praise, not of Peter but of Peter’s testimony.  Peter’s testimony about Jesus is the rock of the church, and in 2020, the church’s testimony about Jesus is where the authority and power of the church lie.  Not in us, not in our flawed humanity, but in our testimony about Jesus.

Who do you say Jesus is?  Now, maybe you don’t feel qualified to answer the question.  Jesus lived and died and was raised 2,000 years ago, and maybe you haven’t really studied the Bible.  Maybe you are loathe to claim any sort of wisdom or insight into the Messiah, the Son of the living God. 

But I am reminded this morning that the Apostle Paul, the theologian who wrote much of the New Testament, the missionary who built the church, a zealous man of faith never met Jesus except in a vision, in a life-changing experience of light and Jesus’ voice.  But the Apostle Paul did not sit at Jesus’ feet when he preached the Sermon on the Mount, like Peter did.  Paul did not witness Jesus’ miracles and healings.  Paul was not at table with Jesus at the institution of the Lord’s supper, and Jesus did not wash his feet.  Paul wasn’t in the garden of Gethsemane the night of Jesus’ betrayal.  He didn’t glimpse Jesus’ crucifixion from afar, and he never saw the empty tomb.  Paul didn’t even have a New Testament to read about Jesus because none as yet existed.  Yet Paul testified powerfully, in such a way that the church was born from his testimony, from the way he answered Jesus’ question: who do you say that I am?

Not, who do people say that Jesus is?  Who do you say that Jesus is?  It’s not just Peter and the Apostle Paul who testify about Jesus.  It’s not just pastors who testify.  The rock on which Jesus builds the church is our collective testimony, the testimony of the whole church.  I suspect that each of us is here in worship, that each of us gives or prays or reads the Bible, that each of us engages in whatever spiritual practices we do, that each of us serve within the church because we have met Jesus—in some way.  Where and how and when have you met Jesus?

As the daughter of a pastor and a theologically curious child, I have always known a lot about Jesus.  Sunday school and Vacation Bible School, Bible camp and confirmation, then in college: religion classes, campus ministry activities, and endless theological conversation with my college roommate.  I knew a lot about Jesus, but I didn’t really meet him until I entered the Lutheran Volunteer Corps.  That year, I worked at a shelter on the west side of Chicago, and I met Jesus in the small library where once or twice a week, I led Morning Prayer and listened with awe as people shared their prayer concerns, mostly prayers of gratitude at a time in their lives when, to my view, nearly all was lost.  I met Jesus in other rooms, such as in the medication room where, each morning, I handed residents their personal drawer of medications so they could take them, the residents greeting me pleasantly like family at a breakfast table.  I met Jesus at Central Desk where I completed intakes on new residents, hearing people’s stories, glimpsing their resilience.  Fast forward five years, and I met Jesus again at the Catholic Worker House in Waterloo, Iowa where the congregation I served at the time provided community dinner once a month for whoever wanted to eat.   Three years after that, I came to Grace.  As you know, I love this community and love serving here.  And it’s because I meet Jesus here—in you.  I have met a humble servant named Jesus, a joyous, loving presence, open arms that embrace the world.   It’s only because I’ve met Jesus that I am able to answer his question: Who do you say that I am? 

And who do we say that Jesus is?  Is there anyone who has shared in the Facebook feed? 

Read the Facebook feed of our live stream worship on August 23, 2020.

Our collective testimony is the rock of the church, the foundation on which all else is laid.  The church, we, proclaim Jesus a humble servant, so we serve God and our neighbor.  The church, again we, proclaim Jesus one who forgives our sin, so we in turn forgive one another.  The church proclaims Jesus the Son of God, and through the waters of baptism, we are named children of God and call one another sisters and brothers.

Peter proclaimed: Jesus, you are the Messiah, the son of the living God.  On this testimony, the church is built.  Thanks be to God!  Amen.