Gloria Dei Lutheran Church

Text: Matthew 16:21-28

Dear friends in Christ, grace and peace be with you.

My husband is an early elementary teacher and has spent several years teaching kindergarten. At the start of each school year, one of his biggest challenges was keeping his brand-new kindergartners awake (outside of the scheduled nap time) for the entire day. For some of them, this was the first time they’d been away from home or their daycare setting for the whole day. They weren’t used to a long school day full of structured learning and activities, and some kids inevitably became so overwhelmed that their bodies would just shut down. There was always one student who would eventually crawl under a desk and fall asleep during learning time, and my husband had to judge whether to wake them student up or let them sleep. Often he would let them sleep. And it never failed: by Christmas break, the kids could stay awake all day. They learned a new normal and their bodies adjusted.

How often do we feel that way when we’re faced with a big transition in our lives? It’s so tiring to let go of something and begin something new. Our bodies need extra rest and care, and while bigger people know how to force ourselves to power through, sometimes I wonder if those new kindergartners don’t know something better than we do. Spontaneous naps may be necessary when we’re trying to adjust to a big change. When we don’t allow for those naps, our bodies shut down in other ways that are typical during a big life change—we get anxious, crabby, overwhelmed, hopeless, and apathetic.

****

The disciples are confronted with a new clarity about their mission when Jesus makes his first passion prediction in the book of Matthew. In our reading for last Sunday Jesus praised Peter for identifying him as the Messiah and called him “the rock.” However, Peter didn’t quite understand what he was saying when he claimed Jesus as the Messiah.

He had an inkling of an understanding, but not the whole picture. Maybe Peter was starting to let go of his idea that the Messiah would overthrow the powers that be through brute strength and usher in a new era through force. After all, Peter had watched Jesus prioritize love and mercy through acts of healing and compassion, and maybe he thought the force of Jesus’ love would be enough to bring down the Roman Empire.

But Peter doesn’t expect Jesus’ prediction that he must go to Jerusalem and undergo great suffering at the hands of the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day rise again. This is not how Peter sees things playing out. These words are shocking to him, but I wonder if Peter could have seen it coming—Jesus spent his ministry giving himself away in love.

Peter pulls Jesus aside, away from the others, and says, “God forbid it, Lord! This must never happen to you.”

These words of Peter sound compassionate, yet they deny Jesus’ true identity and mission. They tempt Jesus, and echo Satan’s words in the wilderness when he brings Jesus to the pinnacle of the temple in the holy city: “Throw yourself off and have the angels save you.”

Peter’s words are a stumbling block to Jesus as he turns his face to Jerusalem, to the cross, and to his ultimate saving act. To me, the most powerful part of this passage is in verse 23, when Jesus TURNS to Peter after Peter has rebuked him. I imagine Jesus focusing on Peter intently, saying, “Get behind me, Satan!” And Peter shrinking away from the full force of Jesus’ powerful focus on his mission.

“You wanted a Messiah,” Jesus seems to say. “Well, this is what it means to be a Messiah.”

This is the moment when Peter has to start letting go of his vision of Jesus as the Messiah who rules with an fist and with force. Instead, Peter has to open his heart to a Messiah whose power is found in vulnerability and weakness, whose solidarity is with those who suffer, and whose love for the world leads him to a cross, an instrument of humiliation. Peter doesn’t get there right away, but he eventually begins to understand—because Jesus never gives up on him.

To be the rock of Jesus’ church is to understand that the Messiah must go to the cross, and we must follow.

Today’s reading is an end for Peter. It’s the end of his previous image of a Messiah, but it’s also the end of his image of himself—as a follower of a man who shows power through typical strength. Peter has to let go of his own expectations of the benefits he will experience by following Jesus. This is not easy for him and he fails many times. It takes him a while to adjust.

Every transition in life begins with an ending. There is death before there is life. You can’t get to the resurrection without going through the cross. After Jesus predicts his suffering, he says, “…and on the third day be raised.” Somehow Peter doesn’t hear that part. He hears the suffering…but not the promise. He’s too focused on the death and can’t see the life.

After Jesus rebukes Peter, he turns to the disciples and says, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.” In her book How to Lead When You Don’t Know Where You’re Going, Susan Beaumont translates this verse as “We lose ourselves in order to find ourselves.”

We are called in baptism to a cruciform life, dying each day to our old selves and rising with Christ. Life is full of little endings, or “little deaths,” including the deaths of our egos, our expectations, and our need to be in charge, impress others, and stay comfortable. When we’re focused on surviving, what are we missing?

This morning, when we lay hands on Hannah during her baptism, we thank God for the gifts of baptism. We pray for sustenance through the gifts of the Holy Spirit (Isaiah 11:2): the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of knowledge and the fear of the Lord, the spirit of joy in your presence, both now and forever.

Nowhere in baptism do we pray for survival, sameness, or comfort. Instead, we welcome wisdom, might, fear, and joy in the Spirit’s presence. We don’t pray to avoid change or its effects on our lives. Instead, we pray for healthy and motivating fear.

***

Even those closest to Jesus have trouble fully comprehending what God is doing through Christ. Sometimes they seem to get close to understanding, but then the next moment they’re confused, because living in faith means letting go of our own expectations. It’s exhausting. Yet there is always promise. There is always hope. On the third day Jesus is raised. Amen!