The Bible (opened)
Sermon

St Peter & St Paul

Questions have been asked of people aspiring to be our political representatives and leaders. Over the last few weeks, finding politicians giving straight answers has been virtually impossible. The “art” of deflection and avoidance has reached new heights (in their eyes) or new lows (for the rest of us). The obvious purpose of this is to curry favour with the voters by promising sunny uplands at best or no incoming hardship at worst. We occasionally find out what politicians genuinely think when things are said behind closed doors, at private meetings or when caught off guard. Usually, there’s a significant gap between that and the official persona or party lines. That would raise questions about a lack of personal integrity. Most of us would expect our political representatives to be driven by their values, beliefs and convictions rather than political opportunism.

I don’t think Jesus’ disciples expected him to make any appointments when he asked them questions, as we heard in today’s gospel reading. It didn’t look like a party convention, although – against Jesus’ wishes or plans – they considered themselves a start-up political power and constantly vied for positions within the group. The gospels offer plenty of evidence, such as when they were squabbling about who was the greatest among themselves or when the mother of two brothers, John and James, asked Jesus to appoint them as his closest advisors (see Matthew 20:20-23). In his response, Jesus never offered anyone any future position of power or influence but always used it as an opportunity to present an unusual model of power as service to the most vulnerable, sometimes at a great personal cost: “You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them. It will not be so among you; but whoever wishes to be great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be your slave; just as the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” (Matthew 20:26-28) Even if they sagely nodded to such words, they didn’t take them to heart. Even after Jesus’ death and resurrection, the event that should have changed their mindset, they kept daydreaming about their political clout: “Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?” (Acts 1:6). Power is indeed strongly addictive.

Have you ever Googled your name? Jesus’ question, “Who do people say the Son of Man is?” looked like the pre-Internet equivalent of such an inquiry. It wasn’t. In his gospel, St John stated that “Jesus would not entrust himself to them because he fully understood them all. He did not need evidence from others about man, for he clearly understood men.” (2:24-25) When Jesus’ disciples answered, “Some say he is John the Baptist, some Elijah, and others Jeremiah or one of the prophets”, it was a pretty good indication of what opinion of him they held or identified with. As social creatures, we crave to belong, so we adopt others’ opinions as our own and reproduce them in the open. Jesus’ follow-up question was much more challenging to respond to: “But you, who do you say I am?” I imagine there must have been a moment of awkward silence when the disciples frantically tried to find the right answer. Remember, they kept vying for dominance within their group. In the end, Simon gave his reply that earned him Jesus’ praise: “You are a happy man! Because it was not flesh and blood that revealed this to you but my Father in heaven.” Translated into the modern language, Simon’s response wasn’t parroting common opinions but rather a result of his prayerful reflection and consideration of who Jesus was. Based on what we know about Simon Peter, we can safely assume that his bond to Jesus was significantly stronger and more personal than that of others. Peter’s emotional reactions, once even violent defence of Jesus, were clear indications of that, while others tended to take political advantage of Jesus; Judas Iscariot was an extreme example of that.

The follow-up must have shocked Jesus’ disciples: “I say to you: You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my Church. And the gates of the underworld can never hold out against it. I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven: whatever you bind on earth shall be considered bound in heaven; whatever you loose on earth shall be considered loosed in heaven.” On the face of it, Simon Peter suddenly became an all-powerful leader wielding unrestricted authority, reaching well beyond earthly dominion, a divinely appointed dictator of the worst imaginable kind. However, as I mentioned earlier, Jesus was hammering his vision of authority as service of the highest order and kept doing so after this extraordinary appointment. In fact, when Simon Peter immediately used his new-fangled power to revamp Jesus’ mission, he was harshly put down: “Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me, for you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.” Peter had yet to learn how to be the leader as envisioned by Jesus. He set the principle of such learning shortly before His passion: “Simon, Simon, listen! Satan has demanded to sift all of you like wheat, but I have prayed for you that your own faith may not fail; and you, when once you have turned back, strengthen your brothers.” (Luke 22:31-32) Peter’s dramatic failure and denial of Jesus on the night of His arrest was the pivotal moment in learning how to be a leader. The delusional sense of righteousness was replaced by compassion; his self-sufficiency was displaced by reliance on Jesus.

The same principle applies to each one of us, regardless of our individual circumstances, responsibilities, and vocations. As Jesus’ disciples, we have to find our personal answers to the same question: “Who do you say I am?”