Luke 9:18-22
18Once when Jesus was praying alone, with only the disciples near him, he asked them, “Who do the crowds say that I am?” 19They answered, “John the Baptist; but others, Elijah; and still others, that one of the ancient prophets has arisen.” 20He said to them, “But who do you say that I am?” Peter answered, “The Messiah of God.” 21He sternly ordered and commanded them not to tell anyone, 22saying, “The Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, chief priests, and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised.”
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Imagine with me for a moment—imagine that tomorrow morning, a total stranger showed up at your door and was going to accompany you throughout the day. They wouldn’t interact with you, but rather would simply watch as you went about your day, making observations and notes about how to spent your time, your energy and your money.
Set aside the total creepiness of this idea for a moment—but think about how fascinating it would be to hear what they had to say at the end of the day. They would have this window into who you were—they would notice behaviors and habits that you probably completely ignore. They would be able to say things about you that you might not be comfortable with. I imagine many of their findings would be surprising. But they would, like it or not, have an image of just who you were, and there wouldn’t be much you could say to debate about it.
I find it to be an interesting, and yes, creepy, idea. It would provide some answers to that age old question of identity, of who we truly are. It would be true evidence of the person that I am—and I am totally willing to bet that there would be things in there I wouldn’t be very happy with. I imagine that I would want to debate points they observed, but it’s tough to argue with the truth. How strong of a Christian would they say that I am?
Even Jesus, here in today’s text, displays a curiosity about what the crowds are saying about him. “Who do the crowds say that I am?” he asks the disciples, wondering what they might say. Clearly they don’t have much of an idea, as they guess John the Baptist, Elijah, or some other ancient prophet, returned from the dead. When you start guessing dead people, that means you’re pretty lost.
In a way we’re all searching for the answer to the question, “Who are you?” We’re building identities every day, making choices that determine who we are. Much of our life is spent determining exactly who we are.
Anybody remember William Howard Taft? At 6’2” and over 330 pounds, he is better known for getting stuck in the white house bathtub than anything else. He was the 27th President, serving from 1909-1913, and some time ago his great-granddaughter said: “My name is Martha Bowers Taft. My great-grandfather was President of the United States. My grandfather was a United States Senator. My daddy is ambassador to Ireland. And I am a Brownie.”
She had the fortunate gift of knowing exactly who she was. When someone stopped to ask her who she was, she knew exactly who she was and where she stood in the order of things. There was no debate with Martha Taft.
We, too, are blessed with the chance to be able to claim the core of our identity. But in order to do so with integrity, we have to be willing to answer another question first. The only reason we can say who we truly are is because we have first answered Jesus’ question: “Who do you say that I am?”
It’s a strange idea, thinking about beginning our identity with someone else’s.
It’s not very American. Today, our culture is often defined by how popular one’s image is, and it doesn’t matter how it becomes popular. The number of Facebook friends or YouTube videos is important in much of culture—it’s about defining an identity, a brand, as some would say. Recently LeBron James announced he would take his talents to South Beach in an hour long egotistical television special that was all about furthering the brand of his name. It doesn’t matter much why one is popular, but simply that one is.
So we Christians are going a bit against the grain by beginning our quest for identity in someone else’s. But most of what Jesus did went against the grain a bit.
Think for a moment about this question Jesus asks: “Who do you say that I am?” Now, in today’s text he asks the disciples the question, but in reality he asks each of us. He doesn’t just ask the pastor, or the session—each of us are given the opportunity to answer this question. We do it every day, with the way we live. Who is Jesus Christ? There are entire churches who proclaim that he exists to offer material wealth and good health to those who pray in the right way. Others believe he is some supernatural security blanket, keeping away the demons of hell as long as we have a Bible within arm’s reach. Some think he’s a great moral teacher, but nothing more, while some churches don’t bother to talk much about him at all. They’d never admit to this, but if you followed the members around for a day or a week, this might be what you gathered. What do we believe about Jesus Christ? Well, how do we answer the question? We believe that the church is more than the building, that during the week the church exists wherever you work, wherever you are at school or at rest or at play. So how are you answering the question with your life? How is your identity rooted in Christ?
It’s not easy to determine how best to answer this question. When I began to turn my life from seeker to follower, my first question was—what does it mean to die to oneself and live for Christ? In other words, what does it mean to set my own identity aside and claim Christ as the root, as the core of my true identity? How do I do this? How do I live this?
It’s a hard question to answer, especially when the world that surrounds us is so busy trying to give us alternative answers. The world wants us to define ourselves, our identity by the things we own, by the car we drive and the people we associate with. But Christ has other ideas for those ready to follow. Just listen to the response that Peter receives after he correctly answers Jesus’ question, identifying Him as the Messiah, the Chosen One of God, the Savior:
“The Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, chief priests, and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised.”
That doesn’t sound much like a Messiah—he’s going to suffer and die? What kind of a Messiah is this?
What kind of a Messiah, indeed! In order to follow Jesus, it takes a little sacrifice. For us to follow, we have to be willing to put down the desire to lead. For us to receive his teachings in our hands and hearts, we have to be willing to put down some of the other things that define our identity. For us to correctly answer the question about who is Jesus Christ, we have to be willing to be quiet long enough to hear His voice speaking to us. It was never going to be easy to follow Jesus—anyone who says differently is lying, or not actually reading the Bible—but Jesus knows that He is the only path that leads to life.
He knows this because he walked it. He walked into the hands of those ready to kill him, because he knew that life was waiting beyond the cross. He knew that his death would bring salvation, as hard as it would be.
And he knows that salvation is there for all of us as well, if we will only choose to root our identities firmly in Him. Again, it will not be easy, but it is worth every drop of sweat, every minute we spend on our knees in prayer, every battle we fight against the devil to resist temptation. Jesus shows us the hope in the light that bursts forth from the tomb, and he is begging us to follow his path, his life, his truth. He asks each of us the question, every single day: “Who do you say that I am?” In our answer, we define who we are, for when our identities begin with Christ, that seeps into every action, every decision, every interaction we have in this life. We begin to look like disciples when we answer anew each day: You are the Messiah, the Son of God.
May that be the light and the hope that leads us forward each day.
Let us pray
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