“Who Do You Say I Am?”[i]

Mark 8:27-35

January 16, 2005

 

Jesus gets onto the cover—TIME, Newsweek—slow news week!

-Often I get drawn in to buying the issue and reading the article and I always come away disappointed because Jesus always comes out as insipid, so lame, so remote.  It isn’t the Christ of the gospels who is so wild and wonderful and dangerous and so intriguing. 

 

The way people see Jesus is not a singularly postmodern problem: 

Mark 8:27-35 (NIV)  

Jesus and his disciples went on to the villages around Caesarea Philippi. On the way he asked them, "Who do people say I am?"

28They replied, "Some say John the Baptist; others say Elijah; and still others, one of the prophets."

29"But what about you?" he asked. "Who do you say I am?"

Peter answered, "You are the Christ."

30Jesus warned them not to tell anyone about him.

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


Here Jesus poses two questions to his disciples.  The first, "Who do people say the Son of Man is?" and “Who do you say I am?" 

 

These questions come at a crucial moment in the life and ministry of Jesus, a crossroad both geographically and chronologically.

 

Geographically—Caesarea Philippi—the out land—where true religion ended and strange and pagan beliefs began.  Grotto of pan—dwelling place of the god of Pan—tourist attraction.  Hot bed of paganism.  What are you hearing on the street; who do the people say I am?

 

Chronologically—a whirlwind of miracle making in the land of Galilee.  There’s a real buzz on the street there about Jesus: Blind, hungry, lame, the dead are raised.  Everyone wants a glimpse, a piece of Jesus.  So now he’s wrapping up his tour in Galilee and heading for Jerusalem! 

 

This is the context of Jesus question, “Who do the people say I am?”

 

 

Some say you’re John the Baptist, some say you’re Elijah, some say (Matthew) that you’re Jeremiah.

 

(Side note) Bible doesn’t preach or teach reincarnation.  So when the disciples say some think Jesus is John the Baptist, or one of the other prophets, they’re not actually saying that he is the reincarnated version of these guys—Jesus and John were contemporaries.  What they mean is that some believe that the same anointing that was on them is on Jesus. 

 

“The word’s out.  Some say you’re going to move in power the way they did.  You’re a living legend, a hero!”

 

It would be like me asking you, “Who do you say I am?” and you say, “Oh, Shaun, the buzz is that you’re like Billy Graham!  John Piper!  Eugene Peterson!”  And I would reply, “Oh, go on!” 

 

What a huge compliment they’re paying Jesus.  But you know, Jesus seems completely bored with it.  In fact Jesus moves quickly onto the next item on his agenda.  Jesus always moves the conversation in His direction.  He asks the first question, “Who do the people say I am?” to set up the second: “But who do you say I am?”

 

This tells us something really important about Jesus and how he approaches us.  Jesus always allows us a season, a period of time when we observe, scope out the land, feel the vibe.  You wonder, you ponder, you probe, read some books, talk to some people.  You weigh it out.  We canvass and poll, what’s the word on the street?  Who is this Jesus?  In fact, one time in his ministry, Jesus turned people away, told them to think hard about what it means to be his follower rather than just going along with the crowd (Luke 14:25-33).

 

Maybe you’re here this morning and you’ve been following the followers wondering, “Who is this guy?”  But he always moves the conversation in this direction—what about you?  What about you, who do you say I am?

 

When Jesus asks that question, he’s not asking you to summarize all the scholarly readings and theological theories you’ve read.  He doesn’t want to hear what you’ve heard others say—your friends, your pastor, your parents.  No, He wants to know where you stand with him.  He wants to know what you think about him. 

 

Theology is important to study.  It can help point us to who Jesus is.  But if theology doesn’t move us to a crisis of faith, where we stand up close and personal with Jesus isn’t worthy to be called theology.

 

The witness, testimony and teaching of others is important as well.  But ultimately Jesus doesn’t really care about what others are saying.  He wants to know what you think.  Who do you say I am?”

 

There is a day of reckoning coming, people; a day when you can’t hide behind everyone else’s opinion anymore.  And Jesus wants to know from you.  And it is a day when you need to say, “You are the Christ.  You are the LORD, and I need your forgiveness.  Thanks for allowing me the time to investigate and weigh things.”

 

What about you?  Who do you say Jesus Christ is?  If you’re here this morning and today is your day of reckoning…Maybe this is the year when Jesus asks you, not me, not your parents, or your friends, but Jesus asks, “Who do you say I am?”

 

Peter responds with the high confession: “You are the Christ, the son of the living God.”  These are the things that are whispered to you from on high.  Upon this rock I will build my church and the gates of Hell will not prevail against it.”

 

But then, almost immediately after his confession of Christ, Peter gets it wrong:

 

Mark 8:31-38 (NIV)  

He then began to teach them that the Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected by the elders, chief priests and teachers of the law, and that he must be killed and after three days rise again. 32He spoke plainly about this, and Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him.

33But when Jesus turned and looked at his disciples, he rebuked Peter. "Get behind me, Satan!" he said. "You do not have in mind the things of God, but the things of men."

 

What does this mean?  It means that Jesus sets the terms, not you. 

 

Peter says, “You’re the Christ!”  And what goes off in Peter’s mind is “I’m going to be the PR guy for the LORD!  I’ll be his right hand man!  And we’re going up to Jerusalem to move and shake and I’ll be right beside Jesus as the emperor grovels at his feet.”

 

And Jesus says, “You misunderstand messiahship. 

 

I am going up to Jerusalem and I will be getting a crown, but a crown of thorns.  And I will be having a coronation, but it will be done with whips.  And I’ll get a throne alright, but it will be a Roman cross.  And I do intend to take out the enemy, but it’s not Rome.

 

You see, Peter, I set the terms of messiahship.  And if you’re going to follow me there’s going to be some suffering and some risk and some sacrifice for you, too.”

 

"If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. 35For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me and for the gospel will save it. 36What good is it for a man to gain the whole world, yet forfeit his soul? 37Or what can a man give in exchange for his soul? 38If anyone is ashamed of me and my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, the Son of Man will be ashamed of him when he comes in his Father's glory with the holy angels."

 

Azzah Turner, 1847—on the frontier of the American west preaching the gospel in the roughest, most depraved and unruly conditions and he was desperately in need of some assistance.  One day Azzah Turner received a letter from the prestigious Andover Seminary, one of those posh, uppity eastern seminaries.  It was a letter from 12 Andover student who were interested in coming to join his preaching ministry.  This is the letter that Azzah Turner sent back:

 

I’m happy to hear that a reinforcement from Andover is talked of.  I hope it will not end in talk.  But I fear.  Don’t come here expecting a paradise.  Come expecting small things, rough things.  Lay aside your dandy whims that boys learn in college and take a few lessons from your grandmothers before you come.  Get cloths firm and durable, something that will go through the hazel brush without tearing.  Get wives of the old puritan stamp, those who can milk a cow and churn the butter and be proud of a jean dress and checked apron.  But it’s no use to answer any more questions for I never expect to see a single one of you west of the Mississippi River as long as I am alive. 

 

Eleven of them showed up!  One died early, but ten of them proved that if you lose your life you’ll find it. 

 

 

And if you’ll take up your cross and follow him, and confess Him as LORD, and let him set the terms, not you, if you do that you’ll discover something amazing.  That the church isn’t just something you come to on Sunday. 

 

It’s something that Christ builds in and through you, and the whole realm of Hell can’t do a thing about it.

 

I see a community application here as well.  I think it’s telling that Jesus called the crowd and his disciples around him after he rebuked Peter.  It reveals something of the very heart of Jesus—that His church gets it.  One of the ways I think that the church of Jesus gets it, is by individual communities of faith, like ours, stand up and say “You are the Christ and we follow You.”

 

Or put another way, “Zion, who do you say I am?  And I don’t mean what Northgate, or Gateway Alliance says.  Don’t tell me about the programs they’re running.  I don’t even care too much about your programs.  I want to know where your heart is.  Does the heart of this faith community beat for me?  Who do you say I am?”

 

Like Peter and the rest of the disciples, Jesus wants to know where we stand.  Because in the final analysis, what we say about Jesus counts more than all else combined. 

 

The church isn’t a building or programs, or even history.  The church is something that Christ builds in and through us, and the whole realm of Hell can’t do a thing about it.  That’s the Jesus Christ we’re being called to confess and follow.

 

Let’s pray. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

            

 



[i]Preacher’s Note:

The outline for this message has been adapted from a sermon preached by my friend, Mark Buchanan.  In the fall of 2001, Mark preached a series of messages on the questions God asks us.  “Who Do You Say I Am?” is one of the question Mark explores in this series.