JC Disciples
A World Turned Upside Down
Jeremiah 15:15-21, Psalm 26:1-8, Romans 12:9-21, Matthew 16:21-28
It must have been a grand time in Peter’s life, however long it lasted, after the events in the gospel lesson we heard last week. Jesus had questioned the disciples on the subject of who the people believed that he was. Freely, perhaps even gleefully, they shared the reports they had heard: John the Baptizer risen from his grave or any one of several prophets returning to the people. But when Jesus asked them, "Who do you say that I am?" the group fell silent. Only bold, impetuous Peter was willing to share his thoughts: "You are the Christ, the Messiah, the Son of the living God." Then, I think, a smile as big as day must have broken out on Jesus’ face as he pronounced blessings on Peter and proclaimed that God had revealed this truth to the bold disciple.
Human nature being what it is, I think it quite likely Peter was elated at this moment. From their first encounter, Peter had known Jesus was a holy man, someone clearly favored by God. As he walked with Jesus, heard him speak, witnessed the miracles, Peter’s eyes were opened. He came to realize that Jesus was the Messiah for whom his people had longed across so many generations. Not only had the Messiah finally come, Peter was among his closest disciples – and a member of the innermost circle of that select group.
Surely his mind must have begun to consider the possibilities… If Jesus is revealing his true identity, it won’t be long until he puts his plan into motion – if he hasn’t already! Soon he will be on the throne of his father David; the Romans will be gone; and we’ll be … oh, what will we be? What positions will the King give us in his new kingdom? I know I’m one of the closest to Jesus – and I was the first to understand what this is about – so I know I’ll have one of the top jobs in the kingdom. Ah, respect, admiration, wealth – and no more sloshing about in that cold water for slippery smelly fish just to eke out an existence…
It isn’t clear from the gospel how much time elapsed between the text for last week and the text for this one. It could have been moments; it could have been days or even weeks, or months. There is no way of knowing how long Peter and the others may have gone about entertaining such glorious thoughts. But at some point, not long after Peter’s bold confession, Jesus began to correct their misguided notions about his role as the Messiah.
According to Jesus, he was headed to Jerusalem for humiliation rather than coronation. He was headed for suffering at the hands of the religious leaders rather than a welcoming embrace. His suffering would culminate in his death. What a crushing blow this explanation must have been to the soaring dreams of Peter and the other disciples. It’s no wonder that Peter took Jesus aside to correct him. "God forbid this to you, Lord! This thing will never be for you." But Jesus persisted. As he turned away from Peter, he called over his shoulder, "Be gone behind me, Satan! You are tempting me to sin because you’re minding human things rather than those of God."
How could it be any worse for Peter? In a heartbeat, he’d gone from the golden boy with the right answer and the brightest future to the worst of the worst. "Satan," Jesus had called him, the adversary, the enemy, as far from closest friend as one could go. In that moment, his whole world turned upside down. Things couldn’t be any worse than that, could they?
Yes, they could. The situation was about to become even worse for Peter, for the other disciples, and for us – the disciples of Jesus in this modern age. What Jesus said next, he said to those who were listening then and, as his words echo across time in the pages of Scripture, he says to all of us in this room tonight.
"If anyone wants to come after me," Jesus instructed, "let those who would follow deny themselves, let them bear their crosses, and let them imitate me. For any who want to save their very lives will lose them, but those who are willing to consider their very lives as nothing on account of me will find them. What will it benefit a person if he, or she, acquires possession of the entire world but forfeits his or her life? Is there anything a person can give as an exchange for his very life?"
Surely it was terrible for the disciples to hear that their beloved master would be killed. But, given the human tendency toward self-preservation, the news that all who would follow Jesus must walk that same path strikes as an even bigger blow. These words of Jesus, which turned the world of his disciples upside down, challenge our view of the world and our place in it as well.
We live in a culture that moves at a frenzied pace. Sometimes it isn’t clear what we’re racing toward or even why we must move so fast. Everyone else is moving fast, so we’d better too or we’re sure to be left behind – and behind is a place we cannot accept. Everything is a competition for something: the best job title with the highest salary, the most impressive car, the smallest cell phone, the newest house in the finest development we can afford, the best school for our kids, something – anything – for our kids to excel at in our stead and the earlier the better. We may not be able to keep up with the Joneses, but as long as we’re doing better than the Smiths are, we must be doing okay. We know we have to watch out for ourselves. After all, no one else is and it’s every man, woman, and child for him, her, or its self, you know.
We’ve got our rights and we know it. We have the right to self-expression through any form we choose (otherwise known as freedom of speech), the right to keep guns, the right to vote, Miranda rights, civil rights, smokers’ rights, non-smokers’ rights, animal rights, the right to choose, the right to life, the right to die, the right to do nearly anything we feel like – at least as long as it isn’t hurting anyone else. When some these rights overlap and conflict, we immediately rush to the nearest court to settle the matter.
In the midst of this preoccupation with self and personal rights, the voice of Jesus reaches across the ages, calling us to a lifestyle as radical now as it was so long ago: "If you would call yourself Christian, if you would follow me as a disciple, then you must do what I do. You give up your rights. You take up your cross. You follow behind me, imitating me. If you try to gain everything, you will lose the one thing that matters most. But if you let go of everything, if you make your own life nothing for my sake, you will, in fact, be able to keep what truly matters, your soul, your very life, forever."
If anyone ever had reason to invoke his rights in any matter, it was Jesus during the events of the Passion. As God incarnate, he didn’t have to die as mortals do. As the divine man, he had never done anything wrong. Jesus had done nothing deserving of any criminal penalty. His crucifixion was completely unjust and he knew it.
Yet he never invoked his rights. In becoming human, he surrendered the privileges of divinity. Rather than exercise his rights, he accepted our wrongs. Having no guilt of his own, he was willing to receive our guilt and to die in our place, taking the punishment we had rightfully earned. And it doesn’t matter that we weren’t there yet; sooner or later, we would have been.
Now Jesus calls us to surrender our rights as he did, to stop looking at ourselves and start looking at others, to stop fighting for what we claim as ours and start extending ourselves on behalf of others. Jesus calls us to embrace our crosses, bearing them as he bore his.
Jesus doesn’t tell us where to look for our crosses or how to select them. So I think we don’t have to look far, and I suspect they have been chosen for us already. They are close at hand. Our crosses are the difficult people we don’t like and don’t want to love, the difficult situations we’d rather flee than face, those things we know we ought to do but don’t want to do, the painful places in our lives that we try so hard to ignore in hopes they will go away. We know our own crosses. When we let go of our rights, when we deny ourselves, we hear that still small voice calling us to our crosses.
Jesus calls us to follow his way, to imitate him. Our crosses are smaller, to be sure. He bore the heaviest load of all, the sins of the entire world for all time. Jesus has gone before us to blaze the trail. As we watch him bear his cross, we learn to bear our own. As we follow in his steps, we follow a clear path; we aren’t left to wander through an uncharted wilderness. Look closer at the familiar story and see how Jesus bore his cross.
Just before he was arrested, Jesus prayed in a garden. He asked Peter, James, and John to be near him so that they could pray with him and support him with their presence. Being stuffed and drowsy from the Passover feast, they fell asleep and failed. But that’s not the point. The point is that Jesus, our example, asked for their help. As we imitate our Master, should we not ask for his help? Although his disciples may have failed, we know that Jesus will not. Like the disciples, we also have each other for support and encouragement. We only need to ask.
When Jesus finally carried his wooden cross though Jerusalem, he didn’t carry it alone. Weak from the beatings, exhausted from being awake all night, Jesus staggered and stumbled under the load. The soldiers with him, likely moved more by frustration than compassion, seized a man from the crowd and made him carry the cross. If Jesus needed such help, isn’t it reasonable to think that we will need it too? Jesus will help us. Others will too. We have but to look around and to ask.
The path of Christian discipleship is not for lone wolves or for spectators. It is an active life, a life of actions that reflect the life of Christ living in us. It is a life that runs contrary to our culture and contrary to human nature itself. Christ calls us to surrender rather than to claim, to accept our own suffering rather than fight against it, to follow the path that Jesus walked. It is by no means easy, but we do not walk alone. We walk together with each other. We walk with God.
This is part of the mystery of our faith. Somehow, in giving up everything, we receive more than we could ever imagine. When we embrace suffering, we find a surprising peace. And at the moment when it seems all is lost and death has the final word, we are stunned by resurrection. To human logic, it makes no sense, but through experience, we learn it is true. Our Lord has shown us the way; may the Holy Spirit give us courage to follow where God leads. Amen.