SERMON PREACHED BY THE REVEREND DR. HAROLD T. LEWIS, RECTOR
CALVARY EPISCOPAL CHURCH, PITTSBURGH, PENNSYLVANIA
ON THE FIFTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST, BEING RALLY SUNDAY
13 SEPTEMBER 2009
“And Jesus asked his disciples, ‘Who do you say that I am?’” (Mark 8:29)
One of my favorite activities every week at Calvary is the Wednesday morning Bible study. At that time, under the tutelage of our devoted guru, Larry Howard, we share our impressions, our insights, and our ideas about the readings for the following Sunday. It used to be called the Men’s Bible study, but the testosterone requirement has long been lifted, so now, like the rest of Calvary, we welcome all in the name of Christ. It is at this time, inspired by reading and listening to the Word of God, that I begin to think in earnest about what I will preach about on Sunday. Sometimes a verse jumps off the page at me, as it were; sometimes there’s a knotty theological problem to be worked out; sometimes a Gospel story particularly grabs me.
This morning, I would like to share with you what I won’t preach about, although I was sorely tempted. Today’s lesson from the Epistle of James has a lot to say about the tongue. St James tells us that the tongue is to the body as the rudder is to the ship. The tiny rudder and the tiny tongue can get the ship or the body into deep water! He says the tongue is a poisonous organ that cannot be tamed. It seems to me that we have seen several examples of such tongues at work this week. Tongues of parents taught their children, at one fell swoop, disrespect for the office of the President of the United States and imparted a lesson that they shouldn’t have to listen to those who may differ from them, by keeping them home when Mr. Obama gave a back-to-school pep talk on Wednesday. In the hallowed halls of Congress, the tongue of a Senator openly and brazenly called the President a liar --- and the tongues of many of his constituents, while allowing for the Senator’s rudeness, defended the sentiment he expressed --- and those same constituents have since poured thousands of dollars into the Senator’s coffers! (What is wrong with this picture?) And the tongue of a state legislator in California told a particularly salacious tale to a colleague about a rather sordid extramarital affair. Unfortunately for the tongue’s owner, the story was told in front of an open mike --- which led to the lawmaker’s immediate resignation! Yes, there is ample evidence that given half the chance, many of us, as the Epistle warns us, will use our tongues to “curse those who are made in the image of God.”
But, as I said, that’s not what I am preaching about this morning. Rather, I’d like to draw your attention to an apostle who is particularly famous for the use of his tongue, and that is Peter. Today’s Gospel tells the story of what theologians call the Confession of St. Peter, and most New Testament scholars would agree that it is perhaps the most pivotal moment in the Gospels. (It happens at Caesarea Philippi, a city built in honor of the Emperor by Herod Philip, Herod’s son, who was desirous of his name living on in history as well!) Anyhow, one of the things I remember from Mr. Mount, my New Testament professor, is that every word in the New Testament can be seen as a preamble to or a consequence of the Cross. This story is clearly in the former category, and marks the time --- the kairos --- when Jesus sets his face toward Jerusalem in no uncertain terms.
But back to Peter. Peter is nothing if not impetuous. Like many people we know, he engages his tongue before he puts his brain to work. If we read into the next chapter of Mark, we will see that it is Peter who, grooving on the Sound-and-Light show of the Transfiguration, suggest to Jesus that they build three booths, and keep Jesus, Moses, and Elijah in a state of suspended animation forever. It is Peter who upon interrogation, thrice denied that he knew Jesus; but it is also Peter who thrice declared his love for his Lord.
But sometimes Peter lucked out! A case in point is today’s Gospel, in which Jesus asks his disciples: “Who do people say that I am?” Mind you, Jesus was not asking how he was doing in the polls. He wasn’t talking about being liked or disliked, popular or unpopular, or what the New York Times, of Wall Street Journal or Gallup pundits had to say about him. Rather, it was, as one theologian expressed it, a probing inquiry designed to determine the extent to which people were discovering the true nature of his mission and message. The disciples’ answers were flattering, really. They could have said, accurately enough, “They say you are a winebibber and a blasphemer, and hang out with prostitutes.” Instead, they report that people have likened him to the Prophet Elijah or to John the Baptist.
But then Jesus changes the question. No longer was he enquiring about his effect on the multitudes; he wanted to know what effect his life and ministry had had on those closest to him, those who had witnessed his miracles, heard his sermons, and seen him confront the authorities. Jesus asks the disciples: “Who do you say that I am? While the others were silenced, at least temporarily, doubtless trying to choose their words carefully, it’s Peter who hits the nail on the head. He blurts out: “Thou art the Christ.” --- in other words, the anointed one, the Messiah, or, as Matthew’s version spells it out, “Thou art the Christ, the Son of the Living God.” And we can imagine Jesus and his disciples, like the relatives on “Family Feud,” clapping their hands, saying “Good answer, good answer!”
But Peter never learned the art of quitting while he was ahead. Once he came up with the right answer, Jesus then explained what this meant --- that precisely because he is the Messiah, he must suffer many things, be rejected by the religious authorities, and be killed. Peter couldn’t handle this; he couldn’t imagine being separated from his Lord and friend, so what does he do? Mark tells us: “Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him.” Jesus, in turn, is not only angry, he is exasperated. Once again, the obtuse disciples don’t get it, so not only does he rebuke Peter with those damning words: “Get thee behind me, Satan!” he summons the multitudes to join them as he continues his teaching. Maybe the rank and file of humanity will catch on where the Twelve do not, he reasoned. Then Jesus lays it on the line; he shares with them --- and with us --- the basic job description for a Christian: taking up your cross, and being willing to lose one’s life in order to save it.
Today is Rally Sunday, and I’m the first to admit that maybe we’ve been going about it all wrong for lo! these many years. It seems to me we’ve been emphasizing rallying around the parish, rallying around the church as institution! Everything we ask you to do --- sign up for the choir, or the altar guild, or the acolytes, or the Loafers (those who bake bread, not those who are idle) has to do with preserving or building up the parish. And there’s nothing wrong with that! But shouldn’t that be a second step? Should we not be about the business or rallying around Jesus? The same Jesus who told us “Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and all these things will be added unto you?”
In order to do this, we, too, must answer Jesus’ question: “Who do you say that I am? If we ask the person in the check-out line at Whole Foods, what would he or she say? That Jesus is an historical character, a poetic idealist, a sensitive but misguided person obsolete in our advanced, techno-political world? Maybe he’d be described as a fine moral leader of a new social order. Would we fare much better if we asked fellow Christians in the pot-luck supper line after church? I don’t know. Sometimes, even lifelong believers and church-goers suffer from what we might call arrested theological development. They’re still stuck with a Sunday School impression of Jesus --- a helpless Baby in a Manger, or a little boy preaching in the Temple, or at best a shepherd traipsing about the Galilean countryside with a crook in his hand and a lamb nestled in his arms. If we asked the question of General Convention deputies queuing up for the microphone, what kind of answer would we get? Some would say that Jesus is a feminist; others would describe him as a radical; others would say that he personally authored the 1928 Book of Common Prayer; while others would describe him as a co-founder of Integrity. Still others would say that he is a leader committed to traditional family values. “By schisms rent asunder” is more than a line in a hymn nowadays. It describes a church that can’t get its act together because everybody insists on creating Jesus in his or her own image!
Who do you say that I am? Jesus is someone who demands, in the first instance, that we deny ourselves in order to be his disciples. What are we willing to give up? While mindlessly surfing one night, I happened on a 1941 movie called “Million Dollar Baby,” starring Priscilla Lane and Ronald Reagan. Miss Lane inherits a million dollars from anonymous donor, but finds her wealth a hindrance. She ends up giving it all away and finding true happiness marrying Ronald Reagan who made the princely sum of $75 a week as a pianist in a band. Maybe, like Miss Lane, we need to lose our life --- that is, our obsession with life as we know it, in order to find it. Do you remember Narcissus? He was so obsessed with life --- and himself, that he dove into a pool to destroy an equally handsome youth, not knowing it was his own reflection? He drowned, and all he got in the bargain was a flower and a behavioral disorder named for him.
Who do you say that I am? Jesus is Lord. “Through Jesus Christ our Lord” is not just the end of a prayer. It reminds us that Jesus is someone to whom we are subject, someone whom we obey.
Who do you say that I am? Jesus is God’s historical revelation of God’s self. He is God’s invitation to humankind. He is God’s abiding presence with us. He is our moral compass.
Who do you say that I am? John Newton, whom we revere as the author of “Amazing Grace,” sums it up in another of his many hymns:
Dear Name, the rock on which I build,
my shield and hiding-place,
my never-failing treasury, filled
with boundless stores of grace!
Jesus! my Shepherd, Brother, Friend,
my Prophet, Priest and King,
my Lord, my Life, my Way, my End,
accept the praise I bring.
AMEN.