Through the Cross

Pentecost 14, Proper 17

The Rev. Tim Nunez

September 3, 2023

 

May my spoken word be true to Gods written word and bring us all closer to the living word, Jesus Christ our Lord.  Amen.

 

We continue this morning right where we left off last week. Jesus and his disciples are still at Caesarea Philippi, a Greco-Roman city built at one of the three main headwaters of the Jordan River, which is also a center for worshipping the pagan god Pan. They are still just outside the large cave known as the Gates of Hades, a presumed entry point to the underworld. In that decidedly non-Jewish spot, Jesus.

Jesus has just asked them the weighty question upon which all of our faith depends, “Who do you say that I am?” Peter responded, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” Jesus gives Peter an A+ for his answer and says he and/or his confession is the rock upon which Jesus will build his church. And here we are!

Now Jesus began to teach them what that word Christ, Greek for Messiah, means. In order to rescue God’s people and restore their relationship with the Father, Jesus must go to Jerusalem and suffer at the hands of their religious leaders, be killed, and on the third day be raised.

It says Jesus began to teach them. And while Matthew cites three more times where Jesus repeats this teaching, we can assume he spoke about it more as they went along. Still, it’s pretty clear they don’t get it until after they do see him raised from the dead, after that first Easter, after he cooks them breakfast on the beach in Galilee.  The first indication that any of them do get it is Peter’s speech to the crowds on the Day of Pentecost in the second chapter of Acts.

It is a shocking thing to hear. Of course Peter doesn’t get it. Jesus is talking about his own suffering, his own death. He does include being raised, but how can Peter understand that? Peter’s initial response is most natural. It’s immediate, loving, caring. What else should a friend say? We are wired to preserve and protect the people we love.

Yet he is entirely wrong. He’s not just wrong, he’s as wrong as anyone in human history has ever been. He’s so wrong that Jesus calls him Satan, because what Peter suggests is on par with the way the Devil tempted Jesus in the wilderness. Remember what he said then? Cast yourself off the pinnacle of the Temple and his angels will catch you “lest you dash your foot against a stone?” In other words, “Surely there must be a way to accomplish your work without you suffering and dying.”

No, there isn’t. Jesus said he must, must go to Jerusalem. He must suffer. He must die. And the rock upon whom Jesus has just a moment before said he will build his church has immediately become a stumbling block. Jesus said Peter’s mind, as well intentioned as he may be, is set on human things, not divine things.

Human things are most natural. Life is short, life is precious. We work hard to make our way, to carve an existence, to build some measure of security, and to have some comfort and peace. We are wired for survival, to strive and to persevere.

We can see this as radiating spheres of responsibility. First, we are responsible for ourselves, to learn and grow such that we can take care of ourselves. Having that in hand, we have the opportunity to be of some blessing to others, starting with our families and friends, as well as our work. Some people are able to manage all of that and still have capacity to be a blessing to the church and the wider community. And some step into even larger roles with the competence, we hope, to bless the state, the nation, or even the world.

Within that great sphere of human things, our virtues matter a great deal. It is important to be loyal, honest, caring, loving, and all the other good qualities that lead Peter to blurt out his desire to protect Jesus. But all of that was focused on the human things. We must not forget that all of these human things come to dust. This is not new, Solomon wrote about the vanity of human existence, apart from God, a thousand years before Jesus.

And that is the problem that Jesus came to fix, the problem of sin and death.

Divine things pertain to The Lord, to reconciling our relationship with him, to ultimate love and truth, to eternity itself. When we set our hearts and minds on Him and the hope he holds for us, then everything else is set in its proper order and place.

Jesus said, “Take up your cross and follow me.” That means to take all we love, all that matters to us, all the very natural and human concerns we have, and follow Him. Put him first. He had to, and did, go to that cross to open for us the way of true life.

I have a bit more to say about this, but we need to move this from head to heart. Isaac Watts was one of the greatest hymn writers of all time. He reflects on the gift of Jesus’ overwhelming commitment to us in our hymn 474:

When I survey the wondrous cross
on which the Prince of glory died,
my richest gain I count but loss,
and pour contempt on all my pride.

Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast
save in the death of Christ, my God!
All the vain things that charm me most,
I sacrifice them through his blood.

See, from his head, his hands, his feet,
sorrow and love flow mingled down.
Did e'er such love and sorrow meet,
or thorns compose so rich a crown?

Were the whole realm of nature mine,
that were a present far too small.
Love so amazing, so divine,
demands my soul, my life, my all.

 

Isn’t that beautiful? “All vain things that charm me most” are the “human things” Jesus mentioned. “Sacrifice them through his blood,” is taking up our cross and following him.

“Love so amazing, so divine, demands my soul, my life, my all.”

AMEN

The Rev. Tim Nunez