The Everlasting Question

“Who do you say I am?”. If you wanted to put a title at the beginning of each Gospel then perhaps that would be a good one. Of course, in real way that is what the gospels do. St Mark in the very first sentence of his gospel lays it out in full: the beginning of the good news about Jesus Christ, Son of God. St Paul does the same thing at the start of his letter to the Romans: this news is all about the Son of God. St John tells us at the end of his gospel that everything he has written down has been for one purpose, and one purpose alone; these things have been written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God and that believing this you may have life through his name. When you think about it then, we’ve been given some hefty hints at what our answer should be, and yet when we come to that moment how do we feel about our answer? Do we offer a bold and strident affirmation, or do we hold back and hesitate?

I wonder what Jesus himself was thinking when he asked the question, and have we understood properly what he was looking for in our answer? When Peter gives his answer, you are the Christ the Son of the living God, Jesus gives him a blessing. It’s a word we’ve heard Jesus use before. Blessed are the poor in spirit, the gentle, those who mourn, those of purity of heart, those who show mercy, who work for justice and peace, those who hunger for what is right. But those who are persecuted in the cause of right are also blessed and it is as if Jesus is hinting at the trauma that is to come and of which he will himself undergo.

Jesus is the one who brings about the coming of the kingdom of heaven, in which the seed of God’s word is sown into our very being. He has told the people through his teaching and his parables that he is the word of God and that his word and his action through his passion, must be the means through which the love of God is made real. No-one comes to the Father except through me is what St John records in his gospel. I am the way, the truth and the life. Our affirmation of Jesus as Son of the living God must contain within it an understanding of all that is revealed to us through Jesus. Not just in the happy, feel-good experiences of our lives but also in the harsh and cutting moments too, because in the world the way can be painful, the truth sometimes be disturbing and the life often tough and challenging. So let us be bold in our assertion of Jesus as Son of the living God, but also let us be understanding of what this all means in our lives and in the lives of those around us.

The Universal Call to love

Not long ago we read in the gospel the words of Jesus telling us: Come to me all you who labour and are overburdened, and I will give you rest. Shoulder my yoke and learn from me for I am humble and gentle in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. So here in a strange encounter with a non-Jew the initial response of Jesus seems harsh and uncompassionate. Can it really be so?

I wonder if reading this story, we hear echoes of that other story from the gospel of John, of the meeting between Jesus and the Samaritan woman at the well. Although superficially they are different, I think that both have at their heart the act bringing a gentile to faith, someone who at the outset was perhaps ambivalent and undecided about who Jesus is, but who in the end, through a journey of encounter are brought to true knowledge and belief in him. This is after all, how Jesus responds to us when we approach him. He recognises the unique circumstances of each one of us and he deals with them according to their needs.

In their encounter with Jesus both women address him as “sir”. There is no inkling of anything other than here is a person who can help me. The Canaanite woman wants relief from the trials she is enduring because of the sickness of her daughter, and the Samaritan wants relief from the daily trudge back and forth to the well to collect water. The disciples in both encounters become agitated and impatient with Jesus and try and get him to move along but he knows what he is doing, and he brings the women to understanding and faith, through a series of back-and-forth conversations which result in each of them ultimately professing him as “Lord” and “Messiah”. He brings out of them both, a profession of faith that is profound and life enhancing. So rather than seeing Jesus’ initial response to the Canaanite woman as being harsh and cold, by first ignoring her request and then by saying what he does, he generates from her a response which opens in her a living faith. Similarly with the Samaritan woman, Jesus, intuitively aware of her past, helps her to deal with her circumstances, enabling her to profess him as Christ.

So those words of Jesus at the beginning of this piece are not negated but totally endorsed by what happens to both women. They have come to him and have not been turned away. Rather they have come to him seeking a solution for a very human problem and have through his universal love truly found his divine rest for their souls.

All at Sea

I‘ve no real experience of sailing. The only boats I have been in are ferries, the only water crossed has been the Irish Sea and the English Channel and thankfully the crossings were calm enough to allow a period on deck, viewing the waves as the ship made its passage. Of course, that’s not to say there wasn’t any swell, there was, and it was enough to make you realise the might and the power of the sea and of what enormous forces lie within. Today’s gospel certainly brings out that sense of strength when we are told that the disciples, hardened fishermen as they were, struggled to manage their boat as the sea was whipped up by a strong headwind. What though is going on here, since what follows is a very strange twist. In the midst of their trying to maintain a true course they see a vision of someone coming towards them walking on the sea.

Time, context, place and space suddenly seem to be fluid, like the sea itself,
chaotic and intangible. The natural order of things no longer applies, and fear grips them. The vision becomes ghostly and incomprehensible. Is their world about to engulf them and swallow them up? Suddenly familiar words are heard “It is I! Do not be afraid”. They reassure Peter and he responds to them and boldly steps out into the chaos, but his instincts are fragile, and he recoils, feeling himself submerging into a nightmare, shouting at the top of his voice “Lord, save me”. A hand grasps him, and suddenly he is face to face with Jesus and all is calm and serene.
What can we say about this moment. For Peter the words evoke an experience of deep spiritual significance with echoes and resonances of events to come and of events past. At his call in Luke’s gospel, Jesus is in Peter’s boat and Peter says to him “Leave me, Lord I am a sinful man”. Later Matthew will tell of Peter’s dramatic proclamation of faith in Jesus as the “Christ, the Son of the living God” juxtaposed today with Jesus’ describing him as a “man of little faith”. I think what we are being offered in this drama at sea is the very human drama of Peter’s discipleship. How is he to understand his calling to leadership in the light of the frailties that inhabit his character and bubble up to the surface when a storm breaks? We find the answer at the end of John’s gospel, when Jesus and Peter are together on the beach. At this moment all those strands of context, time, space and place come together not adhering in a ghostly vision, but in the reality of the trust the Risen Jesus places in Peter to lead the flock. A trust that will give him the strength and courage to live out his apostleship which Jesus first saw in him. “Do you love me more than these others?” “You know everything Lord. You know I love you... Feed my sheep.”