Yesterday the pastors and new and returning Council members gathered for a retreat. We spent time in conversation getting to know one another, highlighted the responsibilities and duties of Council members here, spoke about some priorities going forward, and elected officers (it was a very full morning!).
In the afternoon, we worked with the Call Committee on the draft “ministry site profile” they have been preparing. This is the extensive resume of our congregation that will go to prospective candidates. It paints a picture of life and ministry here at Our Redeemer, and names the areas of focus and personal strengths we feel would best serve us in a pastoral leader going forward.
As I read the Gospel selection for today, I couldn’t help but think of it in this framework, too. Here is a group of people imagining what the future will look like for their community and negotiating what kind of leader will get them there. With today’s reading, we’re dropping in on the middle of the conversation. Just before this text Jesus asks his disciples, “Who do people say that I am?” Some say John the Baptist, Elijah, one of the prophets. He then asks them an even more important question “Who do you say that I am?” Peter boldly answers “You are the Messiah.”
With that loaded title and the accompanying deeply-rooted expectations hanging in the air, Jesus then begins to teach his disciples what it will look like for him to be the Messiah. He tells them quite bluntly that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again.
 |
| Photo by Allef Vinicius on Unsplash |
Well, it seems that there is a bit of a tension over the leadership profile. Peter pulls Jesus aside to set the record straight, to remind him what's at stake, to rebuke Jesus and this unacceptable vision of suffering, shame, and death. See, when Peter said “Messiah”, it was grounded in the deep expectation and hope of an oppressed people. The collective thought was that the Messiah is the one who will come in, swords blazing, power and might on full display for a military victory over the Roman occupiers. The Messiah is the one who will liberate God's people and reestablish leadership like that of King David’s line.
But whatever Peter thinks should happen, Jesus meant what he said about suffering and death and resurrection. And so Jesus rebukes Peter, saying “Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.” Ouch.
To make sure that everyone understands, to make sure that there would be no further confusion, Jesus calls the crowds to hear, too. The Kingdom of God, the role of the Messiah - it’s not what you think. It doesn’t make sense, it goes against the usual way of doing things. In the kingdom of God, to get ahead, you must follow behind. To save your life, you must lose it. The power and glory and renown you have in mind? For this Messiah, it comes through suffering and shame and loss. It comes through the expectation-shattering death and resurrection of God’s own son.
Kind of a hard sell, right? Who’s going to read that job description and say, “Oh, perfect! Just what I had in mind!”? And yet, as Christians, marked with the cross of Christ in baptism, this is the life we are called to. We are called to follow Jesus, as he leads us through death and into resurrection. We are called to deny ourselves, setting aside our own self-centered needs and desires and priorities. We are called to focus on Jesus, and to cast our gaze to where Jesus’ gaze lands - on the needs and suffering and gifts of our neighbors and the world God so dearly loves. We are called to set our minds not on human things, but on divine things - the power and love and forgiveness of the God who claims us as God’s own.
When we seek out our Messiah, we do not lift our eyes to someone riding a war horse, or carried in an ornate royal litter down a crowded street, or waving from the balcony in a far-away mansion. Instead, we look to the cross - for our Messiah indeed suffered and died and rose to life on the third day.
Though the call to pick up the cross and follow Jesus is not an easy call to answer, it is an honest one. The way of the cross is a way of struggle and suffering not because God desires or requires suffering, but because it does not shy away from the realities of our lives. With our eyes on the cross, we are reminded that Jesus, too, knows suffering, and that Jesus accompanies all of God's beloved people through our suffering, and our loss, and our grief. Through the power of the cross and resurrection - through the power of God's love - death and destruction are transformed into life, abundant and everlasting. This is the hope and promise we cling to. This is the way of our Messiah.
For a God who calls us to follow, leading us through our suffering and loss into the joy of life everlasting, we give thanks and praise.
Comments
Post a Comment