Matthew 16:13-20

"But who do you say that I am?"

Let me say again what an unexpected but genuine pleasure it is to stand once more in this pulpit after an absence of (dare I say it?) twenty-five years. And it is a pleasure indeed because the first call I received to minister in the church that formed and educated me came from the then Dean of ETSS. So at the end of a career in theological education, I return, as it were, to the beginning.

To move full circle may suggest that I have, for twenty-five years, been wandering about in a circle. But for me it suggests not wandering but completion. So here I am making a beginning at an end. That seems good to me -- to make a beginning at an end!

I feel fortunate also because the question posed by our gospel seems appropriate for both a beginning and an end! It certainly seems appropriate for people beginning the study of theology as a way to prepare for becoming pastors. And I can only pray that it remains appropriate when, like me, you come to what appears to be an end.

What is the question posed? Jesus said to the disciples, "But who do you say that I am?" Can you think of a more appropriate question to ask men and women preparing to become pastors? Can you think of a more appropriate question to ask a man or woman charged to shepherd Christ's flock?

I think it fair to say that the risen Christ who promises to be with us always "until the close of the age" [Matthew 28:20] will never cease to pose the question. And the answer we give with our voice (and even more, our life) will determine how we are met by "the Son of man" at the close of the age.

The gospel reading for the week poses for us the defining question of our lives as disciples of our Lord and shepherds of his flock. "But who do you say that I am?"

Now, before each of us rushes to give our own answer to this question, please note that the question is not posed severally to a gathering of individuals. No, the Greek is, "Who do you (plural) say I am?" Matthew here makes a distinction between what people in general say of Jesus and what the disciples say. Though Peter answers, he does so as the chief, the first disciple. He speaks not just for himself or for the crowds (who don't get who Jesus is). No, he speaks for the disciples.

It may come as a surprise to us that in posing this question he did not sit his disciples down in a circle and ask them to share their various perspectives. No, he poses a single question to which he expects a common answer. The people, the crowd, have various opinions. Jesus is John the Baptist, or Elijah, or Jeremiah, or one of the prophets returned as a precursor of a decisive and victorious act of God.

Now here we must pause, if for no other reason than our answers are in all probability so various, if not conflicting. My guess is that no one could, like Peter, speak for us. We can only treat the "you" in Jesus' question as a singular, i.e., we can only translate the question, "Who do I say Jesus is?" And then we find ourselves confronted with a cacophony of voices: Jesus is my companion along life's journey; Jesus is my soul friend; Jesus is my personal savior; Jesus is the liberator of the oppressed; Jesus is the defender and promoter of the American way; Jesus is the exemplar of equal justice; Jesus is the higher power to whom I turn in my helplessness.

It is not my purpose to test the adequacy of any of these, our private answers to Jesus' question. I will say only that Jesus, whom Matthew insists is with us to the close of the age, expects us to answer with Peter and his original disciples, "You are the Christ, the Son of the living God." That is the answer upon which Jesus builds his church and it is the answer which (if given by the church) keeps at bay the powers of death!

So then if we listen to Matthew, the defining question of our time here and our time as pastors of Christ's flock is not who do "I" say Jesus is, but who do "we," his late-arriving disciples, say he is? And the answer Matthew would have us give is, as we would say, though unified, nonetheless complex, layered, multi-vocal. Or to put the matter in a more straight forward way, the answer he expects, though unified, is nonetheless not simple.

In this one short passage Jesus lays claim to being "the Son of man," the agent of God who will appear at the close of the age to exercise God's judgment on the world. And in this brief passage Jesus accepts both the title, the Christ or anointed one who is king of God's people Israel, and the status "Son of God," the one who is heir to all God is and all God has!

Each designation, each title, each status is to be recognized, claimed, and proclaimed by each and all of us. You see, where God appears he always forces the question of who Jesus is. There is no Epiphany of God in which the risen Christ is not present posing these questions: "Who do people say that I am?" "But who do you, my church, my people, say that I am?"

My hope and prayer are that at no point here and at no point in the remainder of our lives will we shut our ears to this question our Lord insistently poses! And my prayer is that we will learn to answer both correctly and with one voice.

But how can such a miracle occur? For such a unified confession would indeed be a miracle. Did not Jesus say, "Flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father who is in heaven"?

I confess to you that most of what we do here and most of what occurs in our congregations is "flesh and blood," that will not open for us what it means to call Jesus "Son of man, the Christ, Son of the Living God!" Only God can open the mystery of Christ's life to us. Unless the veil is lifted from our eyes we do not see rightly and we do not see together. So how does it happen that we get beyond flesh and blood and see Jesus with the eyes of a common faith?

For Matthew the answer lies with another title given to and claimed by Jesus - Immanuel or God with us. At his birth Jesus is named God with us, and at his last resurrection appearance he promises to be with us to the close of the age. And this Jesus, who is God with us, tells us, "All things have been delivered to me by my Father; and no one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son, and anyone to whom the Son chooses to reveal him."

We know the Son rightly because the Son who is with us makes himself (and so God) known. But here's the rub. We learn who he is, we learn to answer his question together and rightly only, as he says, by taking his yoke or guidance upon ourselves. If you will, we learn to answer his question rightly only if we follow the way or road or form of life his own life has defined. Or again, we learn to identify Jesus rightly only if we enter by the narrow gate and follow along the hard road that leads to God. It is along this hard road that the risen Christ meets us and teaches us to answer his question rightly.

And so here I end with what I hope is a simple statement - one open to the simplest man or woman. Jesus invites us to answer his question, "Who do you say that I am?" with one voice. And to find that unified answer he bids us follow one way of life - one that has the shape and form of his own.

And so my friends, the study of theology begins with a question insistently posed by one who accompanies us, and the united answer expected comes from our mouths as our lives take on a certain shape which those who look at us (not ourselves) recognize as "the beauty of holiness."