The question that won’t go away.
During the week I’ve been pondering this question which Jesus poses to Peter in Matthew 16:13-20. Peter answers; “you are the Christ, the Son of the Living God.” On this occasion Peter appears to get it right and spontaneously professes his faith in Jesus. He is praised, blessed, and awarded leadership and place of authority in the Church but curiously he is warned not to tell anyone yet.
This last part always troubled me; not to tell anyone. Why this inclusion? Is it because Peter can spontaneously proclaim his identity, but as yet, can’t speak to his whole identity? At this point in the Gospel Jesus starts to explain the full picture of who he is and what his being a member of his Kingdom entails. Peter has not experienced the suffering, betrayal, death and resurrection of Christ. He has not yet lived through his own identity crisis when he refused to acknowledge that he even knew Jesus. In so many ways the most crucial part of Jesus’ identity and mission is yet to unfold.
The inspiring scripture scholar Verna Holyhead sgs, puts it this way. “. . However, until Peter and the other disciples have learned fully what it means for Jesus to be the Messiah, until he has suffered, died and risen, and until they have been drawn into this mystery, they are not to tell people about what has been revealed here ay Caesarea Philippi, for it would be only the partial truth.”
Verna’s comment prompted me to think about Jesus’ identity in a new way. I began to realise that my answer to Jesus’ question has changed and developed over the years. Along the way there have been moments of utter clarity about his identity and there have been times of foggy confusion where it is almost impossible to see or hear or know his presence.
My quick answer inline with Peter’s was only a partial truth. My quick answer was an intellectual tenant rather than a heartfelt response. On reflection I have come to know Jesus most profoundly through the darkness and joys of life. It is these lived encounters I began to know the Risen Christ, my living Lord.
Interestingly these more intense moments of clarity have occurred during times of unexpected and unwelcomed suffering and times of steadfast love. During days of suffering, loss and fear I realised my dependence on Jesus. In those times when: I wake and feel the fell of dark, not day, my intimate prayers of intercessions have brought me close to the peaceful, steady and loving companionship of Jesus. He is not only the Messiah, but my living, loving guide and friend.
In that doubt and darkness glimpses of light and love break through and I once again sense the loving hand of Jesus reaching out in the hands of friends and strangers. Always unexpectedly he sends his friends and disciples to offer care and hope. This is the glorious mystery of Jesus for me. These people who carry his light and love are often unaware of the transformative power they bring to my life and faith. In that mystery I am enchanted and enthralled by him.
A few years back I was reading The Naked Now by Richard Rohr and was challeneged by his claim that the highs and lows, the tough and invigorating experiences of daily living have the potential to show us the glorious mystery of the God’s identity. “ . . Two universal and primal paths of transformation have been available to every human being God has created since Adam and Eve and the Stone Age: great love and great suffering. These are offered to all; they level the playing fields of all the world religions. Only love and suffering are strong enough to break down our usual ego defences, crush our dual thinking, and open us up to Mystery. In my experience, they like nothing else exert the mysterious chemistry that can transmute us from a fear-based life into a love-based life. None of us are exactly sure why.”
Rohr goes onto to challenge my thinking about how we come to know and proclaim the identity of Jesus in our lives. It is not primarily by studying about Jesus but by sweating, laughing, crying and rejoicing with him.
“. . . . . Love and suffering are a part of most human lives. Without doubt, they are the primary spiritual teachers more than any Bible, church, sacrament, minister or theologian. . . .Love is what we long for and were created for- in fact, love is what we are as an outpouring from God- but suffering often seems to be our opening to that need, that desire, and that identity. Love and suffering are the main portals that open up the mind space and the heart space (either can come first), breaking us in breadth and depth and communion. Almost without exception, great spiritual teachers will always have strong direct guidance about love and suffering. If you never go there, you will not know the essentials. You’ll try to work it out in your head, but your mind alone can’t get you there. You must “love with your whole heart, your whole soul, our whole mind, and your whole strength.” (Mark 12:30)
Peter was asked not to share Jesus’ identity because he had not experienced the full suffering death and resurrection. He could not know the whole person, at that time because he had not experienced the depth of his own suffering and the inexplicable mercy and acceptance of Jesus.
Still the question remains. It won’t go away because the answer develops and responds to a living faith and relationship. My lingering disquiet is; does my answer to Jesus’ question show in how I live my life?
Virginia Ryan