August 23, 2026
13th Sunday After Pentecost, Pastor Jodi Houge
Not to brag, but I have a pretty solid rock collection. Most of mine are in mason jars from trips along the shore of Lake Superior. But others I picked up while hiking or favorite moments in the big beautiful world. Sometimes I just like the look for the feel of one and I slip it into my pocket. We went on a family trip when my youngest child, Elsa, was six years old. Upon arriving in Reykjavik, Iceland, she immediately found and fell in love with a six pound lava rock. Which we carried for two weeks to three other countries. Who could blame her? It was amazing.
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A few weeks ago, I picked up these two beauties after we swam in the Irish sea. Skin tingling from the shock of the cold, it was my favorite moment of the trip and I wanted to remember it.
In Matthew’s Gospel today, Jesus is in Caesarea Philippi, which is in the far north—maybe as far as Jesus went. And not unlike our own MN idea of Up North—this far north is beautiful, green and lush. It was a recreation spot for Roman soldiers, where they might do their R and R. It was also filled with pagan temples. These are monuments to pagan gods. Think Mount Rushmore. This is the regional capital of the Roman Empire.
It’s there—in that location—, where Jesus asks Peter the question that cuts to the quick. Jesus is not messing around. “Who, Peter, do you say that I am?”
It’s there—in that location, where Jesus declares his intention for building a church. Jesus stand in the shadow of all that elitist power and privilege and paganism and births a church. Births this.
Jesus moves the way Jesus tends to move. Subversively. “Who do you say that I am?” he asks Peter and Peter responds, “You are the Christ.” You are the Christ is in direct opposition to power. To Caesar. To Roman soldiers on their off time drinking Mai Tais.
Maybe this exchange is an attempt to get Peter’s attention. Maybe it’s an attempt to get our attention. And refocus it on Jesus. It’s every teacher who says, “Okay, class. Eyes up here.” It’s every parent who gets down on a knee and takes their child’s face in their hands and says, “Look here. Look at me.”
Jesus says, “Good. Now that I have your attention. Go gather up the broken hearted. Gather up the poor in spirit. Gather the mourners. The meek. The merciful. Go on. Build that church. You are empowered. Go. You have all sorts of power. Power to call to account and to forgive. To bind and to loose. To shackle. And to free. Go be the church. And then Jesus delivers a solid promise when he says I’m building the church and the gates of hades will not prevail against it.
The church is essentially everyone who gathers around a bit of bread and sip of wine and some water. And that water might be in a beautiful hand blown glass bowl or a metal animal feed trough from Fleet Farm, which is what we used in my previous call. The vessel is not the main thing, God’s going to show up no matter what and work with whomever has gathered around that day. Like this morning when we gather with Wally and Alva and their families.
Now listen, Pastor Bradley is leaving us for a 3 month sabbatical. He’s going to rest up for the work ahead. This is a good thing for not only his wellbeing but he is modeling for all of us that we are creatures who need rest and renewal. We are not what we produce and we are not robots. We are more than our work. But it takes practice to remember. We are sending Bradley off to do just that.
And while Bradley is gone, all sorts of things are going to happen here. Babies will be born, people will be baptized, we will all experience a slew of milestones, we are going to eat hot dogs on the front steps of this church on Kickoff Sunday and it will be glorious, new members will find their way here, confirmation classes will meet to learn, each Sunday morning we will gather to sing and pray and to listen for God together, it’s possible that some of us will experience a rough patch, there might be a death. Whatever happens, we are going to be okay. Katie and I are here and you are all here and God is ever present.
On this rock I will build my church and the gates of hades will not prevail against it.
Who do you say that Jesus is? That’s a question for all of us to ponder. And it’s a question for us as a congregation. A number of years ago, Gloria Dei went through a discernment process and collectively made some claims about who we are in the world. Then we revisited those in the last year or so to see if we needed to revise anything. But it turns out, we all still feel like these claims are who we are in and for the world. The heart of Gloria Dei is to be rooted in Christ. And from that center, we are rooted in justice, compassion, love, beauty and generosity. Because of the love we receive from Jesus, we seek justice, we are people who love, who intentionally create beauty, we move with compassion and all of it is marked with generosity.
Nearly every sermon writing process for me comes with one song that will not leave me alone. It’s on a loop in my head. This week is the hymn, Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing. It helps that this is my favorite hymn and yes, please do sing it at my funeral in 100 years. It was written in 1757 by a 22 year old, who was going to be a hairdresser heard a moving sermon and instead became a Baptist preacher. In verse 2 of Come, Thou Fount, we sing: “Here I raise my Ebenezer hither by thy help I’m come.” In Hebrew, Ebenezer means “stone of help” is stone of remembrance to commemorate God’s intervention.
I wonder about the disciple Peter’s answer to Jesus question might sound like by the end of his life. Probably more than a one word answer, “You are the Messiah.” I suspect it would look like rock after rock after rock of Ebenezer’s, symbols of God’s faithfulness.
Writer Debie Thomas beautifully imagines how Peter might have answered Jesus’ question at the end of Peter’s life. She writes, “Who do you say that I am?” You are the one who found me in a fishing boat and gave me a new vocation. You’re the one who healed my mother-in-law. You’re the one who said, “Yes, walk on water.” You’re the one who caught me before I drowned. You’re the one who glowed on a mountaintop while I babbled nonsense. You’re the one who washed my feet while I squirmed in shame. You’re the one who told me — accurately — that I’d be a coward on the very night you needed me to be brave. You’re the one I denied three times to save my skin. You’re the one who looked into my eyes with pain and pity when the cock crowed. You’re the one who fed me breakfast on a beach and spoke love and fresh purpose into my humiliation. You’re the one who gave me the courage to preach to three thousand people on Pentecost. You’re the one who taught me that I must not call unclean what you have pronounced clean. You are the one who stayed by my side through insults, beatings, and imprisonments. You are the one I followed into martyrdom. You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” (Find Debie Thomas’s entire essay here https://www.journeywithjesus.net/essays/2724-but-what-do-you-think).
Here is your homework. This week, find a rock along the way. On a walk, along the shore, in the landscaping. Use it as an Ebenezer, a stone of remembrance, because God is building the church through all of us. Pick up that rock and slip it into your pocket to add to your collection. If you don’t have a collection, let this rock be the start of something incredible.
As you hold that rock, remember the promise: no matter how high we pile the hurt, sin, evil, death, Jesus will only bring more life. No matter how strong the forces that defy God seem, God is still building the church, which means mercy and love are continually pouring into the world.
On this rock I will build my church and the gates of hades will not prevail against it.