“Who do say that I am?” Last Sunday, I called the Canaanite woman a “rare gem,” because she was, up to this point, one of the few who could answer that very question with complete accuracy. Jesus’ ministry has hit its stride. He’s performed miracles. He’s taught with parables. He’s challenged ideas and the established order. But most people still don’t get it.

 

I’m sure by this point he has heard the rumors; The murmurs among the people. His first question to his disciples is likely superfluous, unnecessary.  But he asks it anyway. “Who do the people say that I am?” The disciples rattle off a laundry list of historical figures that either they’ve heard in those same murmurs among the crowds or that they themselves believe Jesus to be. As I said, most people still don’t get it, not even the disciples themselves.

 

Why is that? You’d think that these crowds and these disciples would have figured it out by now. It’s not every day you see a leper cured or the lame walk. The Gospel writers also tell of how amazing Jesus’ teaching is. There’s that famous phrase, “for he taught as one with authority and not as their scribes.” Whatever that precisely means, it indicates that Jesus is something new, something different. But exactly what seems to elude everyone.

 

I have a theory, a possible answer to the question of why no one truly knows who Jesus is. They likely don’t get it because everyone has had way too much religion and not enough faith. That may seem a strange comment, but let me explain. Faith is, as I have often defined it, trust in God and his promises. Faith is therefore relational. It is personal; it is centered on our relationship with the Almighty. For that reason, it is uncorruptable. But religion, on the other hand, are those things that are used to create and nurture such faith. Aids and helps as it were. Rite, ritual, doctrines, piety, and the institutions and practices that surround and support people’s faith. These things are often quite helpful to the believer, but they can also become tools of evil men to mislead and to control people.

 

The Roman philosopher Seneca once cynically commented that “Religion is regarded by the common people as true, by the wise as false, and by the rulers as useful.” I would take exception to his first two observations, but not his third. For I think we can all think of examples from history where this has proven true, where religion has been used by those with power and those who seek it to warp and abuse people.

 

Jesus’ venue for his questions of identity is not coincidental. He is in the region of Caesarea Philippi. He is very much on the fringe of his world and in the heart of Seneca’s, for this is very much Roman territory. The city of Caesarea Philippi is a Roman colony. And it is a city famous for its shrines to the very pagan gods whose cults Seneca had become so disillusioned over. Cults that had been manipulated by the powerful time and time again to control the people.

 

Consider for example the Roman test of loyalty that would give Jesus’ own followers so much trouble in the decades after this episode at Caesarea Philippi. One was required to burn incense and pray to the divine emperor, treating the human mortal ruler of the Roman world as god. If you did so, you were a Roman in good standing. If you refused, you were suspect, a potential traitor and were often at risk for severe punishment. Imagine a Christian or a Jew, pledged by the Ten to “Have no other god before me,” trying to perform this rite?

 

That was the Roman reality reflected in the town Jesus has come to visit. But his own ancient Judaism was not immune from this sort of manipulation however. We remember well Jesus’ own run-ins with the Pharisees. The Pharisees religion taught that God blessed only those who acted as they did, to practiced their faith in their way, who held to their strict interpretation of personal piety. Those who failed to do so were rejected by God. Therefore, if you want to be right with God, in their view, you had to do as the Pharisees did. Think about the control that gives them, the power they have over people’s lives.

 

The Zealots also invoked religion in support of their cause, claiming that God had called them to kill the Roman occupiers, to drive out the pagan devils who ruled over them. The Zealots did not have power like the Pharisees, they were more of a fringe group, but they wanted it and were not above invoking the name of God to justify their murderous quest for it.

 

Two examples of groups in Jesus’ day who manipulated religious practice to suit their own purposes. Two examples of groups who had, as a result, lost sight of who God truly is and they had misled a lot of people into doing the same. You see, what they had done was limit God. They made God too small by saying that he only supports people like them, that his blessings are limited only to them. God only loves people like me and God hates people who are not like me. He blesses what I love and despises what I hate. In many ways, this sort of teaching turns God into nothing more than a “Super-me,” more powerful, but no different in ideology that I am. Their God is too small.

 

Jesus, by contrast, taught something completely different. Jesus did not teach a limited God. He taught a God that is bigger and more grand and more glorious than we can imagine. He sought to open people’s eyes to the expanse of the kingdom, a kingdom so grand and a God so loving and merciful as to include all people. This expansive unlimited God was, of course, at odds with the teachings of the Pharisees and the Zealots and the Romans and many of other groups with designs for temporal power.

 

But the patterns of corrupted religion are not easily unlearned. So Jesus tests his disciples. Have they truly heard his message or do they still listen to the twisted teaching of those who seek power over them? Who do you say that I am?

 

Peter boldly speaks for the group. “You are the Christ, the son of the living God.” Wow. Good answer. He’s got it, or does he? He’s certainly got part of it. He hasn’t been completely asleep at the wheel during all those miracles, parables, and other teachings. But does he really know who Jesus is? Does he really know what it means to be the Christ, the Messiah?

So Jesus takes things a step further and then explains what it means. He speaks of the cross, the empty tomb, but Peter will have none of it. I do not know what Peter’s personal theology of the Christ was, but I can say it doesn’t include death. It doesn’t include the cross. Even with talk of resurrection, the idea of the Messiah dying on a cross is talk of defeat, of loss, of despair. Peter really does not know who Jesus is. Unfortunately, he has not unlearned all the parts of religion that stand in the way of seeing Jesus for who he truly is. Peter’s god is too small.

 

Is ours? Who do we say Jesus is?

 

The question of Jesus’ identity continues to be a challenge to us. Religion’s corruptibility has not changed in the 2000 years since Jesus’ day. Martin Luther fought against the church’s use of indulgences to exploit and control and there are countless other examples throughout the centuries from Jesus until now where the church has lost its way. Where religion ceased to be a help, ceased to nurture and grow faith, and instead became a tool of oppression and control.

 

In these times of high anxiety, with the world in turmoil, we must be cautious about those who would tell us that God only blesses those like them and we must not be seduced by the lure of believing that God only loves those like us. God does not love and bless only those with same skin color as us, the same economic status as us, the same political party as us, the same citizenship as us, or even the same religion as us. A god that does is too small, for the real God is bigger than that, bigger than we can imagine, and it is the whole world that he seeks to save.

 

The Christ came for that purpose and the cross and the empty tomb that Peter has so much trouble grasping are the means to that end. He came to save us all, to save everyone and everything, and he did it in a way completely unexpected. He died on a cross and after three days rose again. “Who do you say that I am?” The crucified and risen one, the Savior of all creation, from the smallest blade of grass to the stars light years away and everything in between. Savior of all humanity, black, white, poor, rich, American, foreign, gay, straight, Christian, Jew, Moslem, whatever. That is God grander than we can fathom, one more merciful and loving than we can comprehend. And may that ever be our answer to who Jesus is. Amen.