Faith to Build On

August 21, 2005 (Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost)

By The Very Rev. Terry White, Dean

• Isaiah 51:1-6
• Psalm 138
• Romans 11:33-36
• Matthew 16:13-20

(From The Lectionary Page)

“What I Did On My Summer Vacation, by Terry White.” Were you ever asked to take your turn in front of your class on the first day of a new school year and put your summer into words?

As I recall that exercise revealed who took REAL vacations as well as who did not or could not. The travelers referred to time spent camping, or visiting a big city to go to a museum or professional baseball which also meant staying in a hotel…maybe even a Holiday Inn! Some classmates told of visits to see family, and usually one lucky-duck saw THE Duck himself, Donald, along with Mickey and the gang at Disneyland. It was hard not to be jealous.

For those students who did not travel over the summer, before it was their turn to speak, there was a kind of mental scavenger hunt going on as you tried to come up with something interesting. And usually, as panic took over and your mind went blank, it became apparent that the only thing you could come up with was something like, “The high point of my summer was running to the mail box each day to see if my Summer Weekly Reader had arrived.”

If one is able to take time and engage is summer travel, be it to a brand new or familiar and beloved place, then one should consider him or her self fortunate. But it is true that one can go to a new place with ever leaving home, and it is equally true that traveling hundreds of miles does not necessarily mean that one has gone anywhere new.

In today’s gospel lesson, Jesus and his disciples have left the familiar haunts of the Galilee and the area in and around Jerusalem and they have headed north to the district of Caesarea Philippi, near what is today the border with Lebanon. During Jesus’ time this area was a recreational base for the Roman army. [Herbert O’Driscoll, The Word Today, Year A, vol 3, page 101.]

A reflection on this passage from priest and scholar Canon Herbert O’Driscoll, which I will quote liberally for the next few minutes, seems to suggest that this trip to Caesarea Philippi might be compared to a modern day corporate retreat, where co-workers get away from the office to plan and plot for the future. It is here, that Jesus asks his disciples a question: Who do people say that the Son of Man is?

With that question Jesus is expressing a natural curiosity that we can all relate to. He is asking, “How am I doing? What are they saying about me?” (It’s the kind of question I’ve asked often these first 15 months together.) This kind of questioning, says Fr. O’Driscoll, is a most reassuringly human moment in Jesus’ life. Here he is showing himself to be like us, curious and maybe even a little insecure, wondering about his self-image, and trying to measure his effectiveness. There is something about this episode that brings Jesus a bit closer to us. [Ibid.]

The disciples, perhaps freed up a bit by that lovely area of Caesarea Philippi and being away from the usual routine, are happy to oblige our Lord. They give answers that are pleasant, affirming, and complimentary:

“Well, Jesus, what we are hearing is all good. Some compare you to John the Baptist, and others to Elijah himself, and it is even mentioned that you are a young Jeremiah. Awfully good company having just been a preacher a few years, a late vocation to boot – carpenter turned rabbi! Truly excellent!”

Add to this scene a few high-fives or knuckle-crunches and you’ve captured the spirit of the exchange.

Canon O’Driscoll, wonders provocatively, if the disciples had in fact heard anything unpleasant but chose to keep such comments to themselves. Realistically it would have been extraordinary for nobody to have suggested how Jesus might improve his message. [Ibid.] And let’s face it, who among us today doesn’t like to send God an urgent memo when we think God has acted wrongly or failed to act.

In this gathering with his disciples, the compliments come to an end. There is silence. Jesus mulls over whether to dig a bit deeper, and finally he asks: Who do you say that I am? Considering all we have been through so far, what say you?

It is Peter who risks stating what is both obvious but at the same time either ludicrous or blasphemous or just plain wrong: “You are the Messiah, God’s Son.” And he is divinely right on the nose.

Imagine for yourself the look on Jesus’ face, what can be seen in his eyes, and the tone of his voice as he replies: Blessed are you, Simon, Jonah’s son!

Again, words from Herbert O’Driscoll: There is affection, comradeship, relief, satisfaction – these emotions are all there. Maybe even delighted laughter. Jesus is irrepressible. He exclaims: “On this kind of faith I can build! This kind of faith will make more, so much more, possible. There’s not a chance in Hades that this mission will fail with faith like this!” [Ibid.]

Up there in Caesarea Philippi, nowhere near the shores of Galilee, away from family, friends and neighbors, Jesus asks his questions.

Today, and every day, Jesus wishes us to follow him away from the familiar settings that define and restrict our imagination and courage – and he still asks these questions:

• Given all that we have been through together up to now, can I build on your faith?

• With your life, your money, your time, your commitment, and, yes, with your words, who are you saying that I am?

And let us ask one another a couple of questions: In our corporate life here, as a community of baptized people delivered from the power of sin and death by the grace of Christ, what are we all, as the Cathedral, saying about Jesus? And what more should we be saying?

After the silence, what answer do we give? [Ibid.] Because answer we must.