Today’s Gospel begins in a somewhat unusual way. Rather than starting with the typical “Jesus began to teach them,” or “Jesus told his disciples another parable,” it starts with a statement about geography, about a particular city called Caesarea Philippi. I’ve been there and can tell you that it’s well worth visiting, although it’s hard to get access to it these days. Located some 25 miles north of the Sea of Galilee, it is today an uninhabited no-man’s land in the hotly disputed Golan Heights. Well before the time of Jesus, however, this area was an important spot along one of the major trade routes from the east to the Mediterranean Sea – much like Jerusalem some 125 miles to the south. There are ruins of ancient temples there dating back to about 800BC dedicated to the pagan gods whom the people of the region worshiped. The Greeks settled there in the 3rd century BC, naming it Paneas, after their god, Pan, that half-man, half-goat figure we all recognize. The foundation of the temple dedicated to Pan is still visible there today; it’s quite impressive. The Greeks had even built a city there to support the strategic military outpost they had there. This military outpost sat on one of the most prominent landmarks in all of Israel – a massive wall of rock over 100 feet high and 500 feet wide. And, there was a spring that gushed forth water from that wall. This was also very important in an area that would, otherwise, be a desert. In 14AD, when Jesus was a young man growing up in the region, the tetrarch Philip renamed the city Caesarea in honor of Caesar Augustus, and erected another large temple there to honor Caesar, who, like other rulers of his day, was considered to be a god. And, through the centuries, other people have traveled to this spot to carve niches into the side of this enormous cliff, placing statues of their gods in them, and worshipping them.
It’s important to know this background to understand why it was that Jesus took his disciples some 25 miles out of their way — and remember, it was all on foot! He did it for the sole purpose of asking them a single question. He obviously wanted the backdrop of the massive cliff, the various temples and all the honors given to the emperors and their gods, when he asked a question that is possibly the most important in all of the Gospels: “Who do you say I am?” Of course, that question is not addressed only to his first followers two thousand years ago. It echoes down through the centuries until it lands on each of our ears today: “Who do you say I am?”
It’s important for each of us to answer that question and to recognize that, in fact, the question is really is not only about Jesus. It’s about the followers of his day and it’s about us. Just as his disciples had to wrestle with this question because it would determine where their loyalties were and whom they would follow, so we have to wrestle with the question
because the answer to that question also answers these questions: “Who am I?” “What do I believe?” “Who do I follow?” “What statue would I place in the niche on the side of the cliff of my life?”
Simon, who stood there with his back to this massive wall of rock and the pagan temples, is given a new name: Peter, the Rock. And, as Peter came to recognize Jesus for who he really was – the Christ, the Son of the living God – this Peter allowed the Spirit of God to mold him into the first great leader of the followers of Christ to build a new temple – the Church.
And that’s what can happen for each of us. Jesus can make new openings in our lives, draw us toward new realizations, fashion new understandings. He can make us his true disciples – if we answer this question as Peter did.
As we continue to struggle through this ongoing coronavirus pandemic, we are humbled as we see, over and over again, that even the best of science – a god that so many people have come to worship – struggles before the power of this sub-microscopic force created by God as part of his grand universe. Our comfortable lives – another god that many people bow to – have been interrupted and we are forced to face the reality of death; something most of us would rather just keep in the dark recesses of our minds. We are challenged in today’s second reading to recognize the depths and wisdom and knowledge of God. How inscrutable are his judgments and how unsearchable his ways. There are some who say that this pandemic – along with all of the other natural disasters (wild fires, hurricanes, haboobs and derechos) – are signs of God’s displeasure with humanity. I would suggest, however, that they are merely reminders to us to recognize the one, true God, and to humbly acknowledge, as we hear in today’s second reading, “from him and through him and for him are all things. To him be glory forever. Amen.”
The event recorded in today’s gospel passage occurs just before Jesus tells his disciples that he would go to Jerusalem “and suffer greatly from the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed and on the third day be raised.” Jesus goes on to tell his disciples – and us – that “Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross and follow me.” Jesus was preparing them – and us – for the inescapable suffering and death that any of his followers must be willing to embrace if they wish to be raised with him on the last day. Just as Jesus did not try to avoid the suffering and death his Father had in store for him, so we need to face the suffering and death that are part of the journey of each of our lives. Like Jesus, we too, find ourselves in the Garden of Gethsemane and like Jesus, we pray, “Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me; yet, not as I will, but as you will.”
God is in charge of the universe and, in this time of the pandemic that has gripped the whole world, we are given a real-life moment to acknowledge that and to follow the example Jesus, the true Son of the living God, has given us.
“Who do you say I am?” Too often we answer easily that Jesus is our God, even when he is not at the center of our lives. Too often, we answer easily that we confess him to be our Lord, even when we live with our backs turned to him, refusing to acknowledge that he is “the way, the truth and the life.” Too often, we answer easily that he is our Teacher, when we barely listen to his lessons of total self-giving in the name of the one, true God.
In the end, though, we will all have to face the wall of Caesarea Philippi and honestly answer this single Gospel question: “Who do you say I am?” Let us pray that, like Peter, we may come to recognize Jesus for who he really is – the Christ, the Son of the living God, and put our trust in the only one who can save us and lead us – through suffering and death – to the fullness of life.