“The name of Jesus is in fact the great foundation of the faith that turns people into children of God. The Catholic faith indeed consists in the news of Jesus Christ as light of the soul, gate of life and foundation of eternal salvation.”- St Bernardine of Siena
At some point or another we’ve probably all been told who Jesus is. Maybe you heard it from priests, teachers, parents, friends, or prayer groups. Maybe you read it in books, Religious school lessons, or on bumper stickers. Maybe you saw it on Facebook, read it on the internet, or heard it in a song. Some of the answers may have been helpful. Some were not. Some were just plain silly and some may have even been hurtful and destructive. Regardless, the question remains.
I don’t think Jesus is asking us to just parrot back the answers we’ve heard or read. Maybe that’s why he pushes the disciples to move from what they are hearing around them – John the Baptist, Elijah, Jeremiah, or one of the prophets – to what they are hearing within themselves. “But who do you say that I am?”
This is not an easy question. The question is never merely academic or abstract. It always has a context. Here’s what I mean.
-Who do we say Jesus is when a loved one dies, the doctor gives news we did not want to hear, or our life seems to be falling apart?
-Who do we say Jesus is when we are faced with decisions that have no easy answers, when the night is dark and the storms of life overwhelm us, when faithfulness means risking it all and taking a stand against a louder and seemingly more powerful majority?
Using the context of these few examples what does it mean to say Jesus is my personal Lord and Savior, my example, or my brother and friend? What does it mean to say Jesus is my life, the song I sing, or my teacher?
Jesus’ question isn’t so much about getting the right answer as it is about witnessing and testifying to God’s life, love, and presence in our lives and the world. It is less about our intellect and more about our heart. It moves us from simply knowing about Jesus to knowing him.
In some sense there is no once and for all, finally and forever, answer. We are always living into the question. Who Jesus was when I was a child is different from who he was when I was in my 30s or who he is for me today. Hopefully, who he is for me next year will be different from who he is today. It’s not that Jesus has changed. I have. We are constantly engaging his question and in so doing we not only discover Jesus anew we discover ourselves anew.
Sometimes we discover a disconnect between the “Sunday Jesus” about whom we sing and talk for an hour, and the life we live the other 167 hours of our week. Sometimes our answers were too simple, too small, too easy. They were no match for the complexities of life and the pain of the world. Other time our lives have not reflected what we said about who Jesus is. Sometimes we kept quiet when we should have spoken up. Other times we were passive when we should have done something. Whenever we fallen into that gap it has usually been because we were trying to play it safe.
There is nothing safe about the question Jesus poses. There is nothing safe about Jesus or the life to which we call us.
Jesus’ life and presence among us call into question everything about our lives, our world, the status quo, and business as usual. That’s why we ought not answer his question too quickly, too glibly, or with too much certainty. It’s not a question to be figured out as much as it is a question to be lived.
In “Mere Christianity”, C.S. Lewis wrote: “A man who was merely a man and said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher. He would either be a lunatic —or else he would be the Devil of Hell. You must make your choice”. So imagine you are Peter. Jesus is standing right in front of you and you have to give Him an answer. Who do you say He is?
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
