17 Pentecost 19B: Isaiah 50:4-9a; Psalm 116:1-8; James 3:1-12; Mark 8:27-38
The Rev. Candice B. Frazer
In the name of the one Holy and Undivided Trinity, Amen.
Caesarea Phillipi was a difficult and somewhat dangerous place for Jesus and his disciples to have a conversation about his identity. It was outside of the Galilean district, way up in the north near Mount Hermon. Prior to being called Caesarea Philippi in homage of Caesar and Philip, one of Herod the Great’s sons, it had been known as Paneas by the Greeks. They believed that the area contained the cave of the Greek god Pan—a whimsical yet dangerous diety who roamed the woods and caused trouble wherever he went. The grotto of Pan was thought to be the ancient gate into Hades as it contained a bottomless pit filled with still water whose depths no one had been able to measure.
Prior to being known as Paneas, the city was known as Baalim—named for the god Baal that was once worshipped there. Jeroboam I, the first king of Israel—the Northern Kingdom— introduced the worship of Baal by offering sacrifices to a golden calf and leading the ancient Israelites into idol worship in Baalim as he turned away from the worship of the one true God.
In this historically charged location, Jesus will allow the revelation of his true identity to be made known to his disciples. Amid the worship of so many pagan gods and the looming presence of the Roman Temple dedicated to Pan, the Son of Man will be revealed.
As Jesus and his disciples approach this foreign territory the terrain changes from grassland plains to lush forest full of life and vitality. They would have come upon underground springs bursting forth from the earth that were the source of the River Jordan. The cave of Pan is nearby, fronted by its mighty Roman built temple. This band of Galileans—mingling with the Roman crowd—were tourists enthralled with the mystery and magic of this place.
It’s an odd place to do ministry but that is not why they are there. Jesus won’t perform any miracles in Caesarea Philippi, he won’t feed a bunch of people or exorcise any demons, and his preaching will take a different tone. As the disciples gawk at the impressive architecture and bemoan the past kings and history of the Northern Kingdom, Jesus abruptly asks, “Who do people say that I am?”
In that moment Jesus has focused the attention of his disciples. They begin to answer, “Well, some say you are ‘John the Baptist; and others, Elijah; and still others, one of the prophets.’” Jesus hears this litany of the holy men of Israel—honored and revered by the Israelites for their wisdom and teachings and their faithfulness to YHWH—and he asks an even more probing question, “But who do you say that I am?”
He is clearly communicating with them that these holy men are not at all who he is. He is not a prophet. He is someone different, something more. And in this moment, surrounded by the essence of pagan gods known and unknown to these disciples, in the gleaming shadow of the white marble edifice of the Temple to Pan, with the ancient Israelite worship of Baal hanging heavy in the air, Peter realizes what he has always known deep in his heart of hearts, “You are the Messiah.” It is an epiphany of such magnitude and awe that not only are the disciples, including Peter, caught off guard by it; Jesus Is not ready for it to be made known. He sternly orders them not to tell anyone about him.
But an epiphany once realized cannot be easily contained. It must be dealt with. It demands to be chewed on, explored, wrestled with. It is not to be taken lightly or casually tossed away. So, Jesus begins to teach them what being the Messiah truly means—suffering, rejection, and vulnerability. Noe nof these are qualities found in Pan or Baal or even Caesar.
It is a risky thing to be God made manifest in this human world. God’s desires are rarely the desires of man. In God we discover that it is loss in which we find gain; it is in forfeit that we make a profit; and it is in our willingness to die that we are made free to live. These are not the ways of man.
Too often our ego gets in the way of our spirit. Ego and spirit are in constant tension with one another inside us. When Jesus speaks of suffering and death, Peter’s ego is what responds to him and begins to rebuke Jesus. I am not speaking of ego in terms of self-righteousness or an inflated self-worth. The ego I am speaking of is that which distracts us from God’s purposes, supplanting them with our own desires and self-interests. The tighter we cling to something, the more we know our ego is at work. When Peter starts to rebuke Jesus, it is his ego driving him.
Peter has just realized the greatest epiphany of his life—of our lives. In that revelation, Peter holds on to his expectations of what the Messiah should be instead of allowing Jesus to be the Messiah he came to be.
We often do this with people, especially the ones we love. In The Breakfast Club, a film from the 1980s that has always resonated with me. I know I am a child of the eighties so some of you may not have seen this coming-of-age film that so perfectly dissected the social and cultural division of high school back then. Five high school students find themselves in Saturday detention and discover they don’t need more in common than being with each other. They represent the stereo-typical dimensions of a brain, an athlete, a basket case, a princess, and a criminal. At one point, they are all sitting in a circle on the library floor talking about what landed them in detention. Emilio Estevez’s character, a high school jock and captain of the wrestling team begins to recount the amount of pressure he feels from his father, “Andrew! You’ve got to be number one! I won’t tolerate any losers in this family…[you’ve got to] Win! Win! Win!” It is a line that I resonated with in that time—not that my parents ever called me a potential loser, but me and so many of my friends, had a significant amount of pressure placed on us by our parents to be made in their image—to become what they wanted us to become instead of giving us space to discover who we were meant to be or what we might become.
This is the ego at work. It clings to specific expectations of others, of ourselves, even of God. The tighter it grips, the less it allows the spirit to flow. When we are trying to make the world, other people, even God into our image, our ego is at work.
Jesus recognizes this immediately. He rebukes Peter, saying, “Get behind me, Satan!” He essentially tells Peter, “Release your ego! You are trying to shape me into the image of the Messiah that you hold. I am inviting you to see something more, something divine. Let go of your ego and allow your spirit to open to new possibilities.”
Jesus understands that spiritual growth requires release of our ego. The ego and the spirit are always in tension, but we must deny our ego if we are to follow Jesus. When Jesus speaks of saving our life, he means saving the ego—our self-interested and personal desires. True salvation comes when we are willing to relinquish our ego for the sake of God and the good news he brings.
We are an adulterous and sinful generation because we are ego-driven. Our egos create false gods, pagan gods of power and wealth and frivolity—because that is what our egos desire. It is no wonder Jesus chose this spot—in the midst of the gods of Rome, Greece, and the ancient Israelites; Caesarea Philippi, Paneas, Baalim—this city has been named for pagan gods over and over again. It is a city created with the image its people hold of who god should be. In this place with the Temple dedicated to Pan and the heaviness of Baal weighing down upon them, Jesus reveals his true identity to his disciples—he reveals the one true God. He reveals the true Messiah.
Amen