“Who do you say that I am,” Jesus asked the disciples. It is a question we must ponder as well. Who we say Jesus is for us will shape our lives.
Simon Peter answered, “The Christ of God.” It was an insight received from having walked with Jesus and absorbed his teachings. The disciples had just experienced the miracle of the multiplication of loaves to feed the thousands. They themselves having been sent were able to cast out demons and heal the sick on the authority of Jesus. No wonder Simon Peter would make such a declaration. But it was an incomplete answer. Most were expecting the Messiah to be religious liberator settling all the political and personal scores. Never in their thoughts would suffering servant, noted in our first reading, be among their expectations.
Jesus completes the answer as to who he is. “The Son of man must suffer greatly and be rejected . . . and be killed and on the third day be raised.” Then he tells Peter and the others that if you really believe I am the Christ of God, the Messiah then you will need to do three things: deny yourself, take up your cross daily and follow me.
What did that mean for them? – We know their stories of martyrdom. What does he mean for us – our story is incomplete. Certainly we each have significant crosses to bear each day – sickness, loneliness, worry. But so do non-believers. I wonder if in part he meant that to bear our cross every day is to recognize that following Jesus as true disciples is difficult. His cross stands in opposition to secular standards of our day that rejects or marginalizes God. To stand in opposition requires deep faith, courage, perseverance and trust.We can get side tracked by the lures of the culture, the errors of the day or our human frailty, seeing the grass greener across the moral fence. Denying our self, bearing our crosses and following can seem a negative. But in fact it is freeing. Someone compared life to a glass of water. Whether it is half filled or half empty depends on whether you are doing the pouring or doing the drinking. Christ pours his grace into our lives and we are privileged to drink of it in whatever quantity he pours.
Such perspective is important. This week we experienced the horrible slaughter of innocent men and woman in Orlando, Florida. Half empty. We also saw the courage and resiliency of police, fire, first responders and medical personnel out of caring and concern. Half full. Sadly we were brought to tears having learned of a little boy whose life was stolen by an alligator. Half empty. We also were brought to tears by the genuine gratitude of his parents in thanking those who sought to find and save him. Half full.
Back in the days of stagecoach travel, there were three classes of tickets. First class meant the passenger could remain seated in the coach throughout the trip no matter what happened. If the stagecoach got stuck in the mud or had trouble going up a hill or a wheel was damaged, he could remain aboard. Second class ticket holders were required to get off when a problem arose. They could stand off to the side and watch the problem being resolved. Third class ticketholders not only had to get off if a problem occurred, they had to help fix it by pushing the coach or repairing the wheel. Most of us would like to remain comfortable in first class or at least to not get involved. But to follow Christ means we must become part of the work crew to evangelize and to model his sacrifice of love reflected in loving others as he has loved us.
For most of us, including me, discipleship is hard, bearing crosses daily is tough, yet if we declare Jesus is the Christ of God, the Messiah and our Savior we will be as faithful as we can be. Thus we must stand up for moral truth even if unpopular, respect the dignity of all persons from conception to natural death including those we have a hard time loving, and reaching out to those in need in prudent but practical ways. Whatever our crosses all of us can pray for peace, for life, for freedom and for one another.
There is a whimsical poem I have cited before that encourages me when my discipleship energy gets low and half empty becomes my attitude. It is called “Christmas Trees and Strawberry Summers.”
“What I’d really like is a life of Christmas trees and strawberry summers, a walk through the zoo with a pocketful of bubble gum and a string of balloons. I’d say to yes to blueberry mornings and carefree days with rainbow endings. I’d keep the world in springtime and the morning glories blooming.
“But life is more that birthday parties; life is more than candied apples. I’d rather hear the singing than the weeping. I’d rather see the healing than the violence. I’d rather feel the pleasure than the pain. I’d rather know security than fear. I’d like to keep the cotton candy coming. But life is more that fingers crossed, life is more than wishing.
“Christ said, Follow me. And of course I’d rather not. I’d rather pretend that doesn’t include me. I’d rather sit by the fire and make excuses. I’d rather look the other way, not answer the phone, and be much too busy to read the paper. But I said yes and that means risk – it means, here I am, ready or not. O Christmas trees and strawberry summers, you’re what I like and you are real. So is confrontation. So is injustice. Discipleship means sometimes it’s going to rain in my face.
“Once you know who God calls you to be, you’re not content to be sitting in corners. There’s got to be some alleluia shouting, some speaking out, some standing up, some caring, some sharing, some community, some risk. Discipleship means living what you know. Discipleship means Thank you Lord for Christmas trees and strawberry summers and even for the rain in my face.” (Author unknown)
Who you say that I am, Jesus asks. If we answer from the heart, you are the Christ of God, Messiah and Savior, we must deny ourselves, freeing ourselves from the burdens of the culture, bear our crosses daily, doing as the Blessed Mother advises whatever Jesus tells to do, and then follow him wherever he leads. The end of the journey on which he will lead us is eternal life depending on who he is to us.