By REV. FELIPE BAUTISTA
United Methodist Church
Is 50:5-9a
Ps 116:1-2, 3-4, 5-6, 8-9
Jas 2:14-18
Mk 8:27-35
One of the most beautiful illustrations I’ve ever heard about the depth of our knowledge of the Lord goes like this:
Before starting the day’s business, the presiding judge called on anyone from the courtroom who knew Psalm 23 and requested to share it at the front.
Right away, a man, a lawyer by profession, stood up and offered to recite. As the lawyer delivered the psalm, the people in the room were amazed at how eloquent and persuasive the lawyer delivered his piece. And as the lawyer ended, a booming round of applause was heard in the courtroom.
Inspired by this, the presiding judge, again, asked the people in the courtroom if there was anyone else who could recite Psalm 23. After a few seconds, an old man wearing ordinary clothes slowly rose from the pew and accepted the judge’s invitation. So he walked to the center of the court and started to speak.
As words came slowly from his mouth, a deafening silence fell inside the court. Suddenly, tears came flowing down from the people’s eyes as if there was a great relief experienced and a reassurance of hope.
After the old man’s speech, there was sobbing heard all over the place. The presiding judge, who also found himself sobbing, called on the old man in private and said, “When the lawyer recited the psalm, the people applauded him greatly because of his articulate rendition of the psalm, but when your turn came, everyone felt great peace and assurance, including me. What is your secret?” asked the judge.
The old man answered, “The lawyer knows the psalm, but I know the Shepherd.”
As disciples of the Lord, the Messiah, how well do we know the Messiah we follow?
What transpired in Caesarea Philippi was pivotal in the spiritual journey of Jesus’ disciples and in the course of the Lord’s ministry. I believe the same is true in our own spiritual quest.
Locating the narrative in the gospel of Mark, the event most likely happened during the second half of the Lord’s ministry. As such, Jesus would soon face the very end of His earthly ministry, yet there was still so much to teach the disciples.
But going onto this, I can only imagine the thoughts running through the disciples’ minds, looking painstakingly for an answer. Finally, the elephant in the room was recognized: “Who do you say I am?” Indeed, it is one of the most demanding questions ever asked—and also one of the most dramatic revelations ever made.
It happened in Caesarea Philippi, a city with a rich religious history. In the past, the city became a center of Baal worship, with at least fourteen temples in and around the city. It was believed to have within its borders the cave in which the Greek god of nature, Pan, was born. The city was so identified with this god that it was called Panias, a name after it.
One of the city’s famous and beautiful structures was the gleaming white marble temple built to worship Caesar. Herod the Great had built it to honor Caesar when he gave him another country.
However, it was Herod’s son, Philip, who beautified and enhanced the temple with the grandeur for which it was known worldwide. It was also him who changed the name of the city from Paniasto Caesarea, Caesar’s town. Eventually, he also added his name, calling the city Caesarea Philippi. The city was well known for its worship of Caesar and of the gods of one’s choice, that is, the worship of all except the One true and living God.
It was against this context that Jesus asked the pointed question, “But who do you say I am?” And it was against this background of religion that Peter made his great discovery and confession: Jesus is the Christ, the real Messiah.
But Peter’s confession was not enough, for it seemingly failed him as our text progressed.
As the Messiah started to reveal what lay ahead of Him—that He must undergo great suffering, be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, be killed, and, after three days, rise again—Peter began to rebuke Him, to which the Lord felt so strongly against that He identified this action as not from God but from Satan.
Peter and the disciples had a great need to learn about the Messiah, God’s Messiah. So do we. From our Sunday School classes and Catechisms, we were introduced to the idea of a Messiah: a deliverer, savior, provider, and protector.
However, as we grow old, we tend to develop a concept of the Messiah that fits into our wants, passions, and power structures of this world. I believe this is why people are easily deceived when someone with that statute comes and claims to be the Messiah, like the one in Davao.
Sadly, people want their bellies full, their bodies clothed and housed, and their urges satisfied. They want the good things of this world. If a Messiah can give these, then people are willing and ready to accept the Messiah.
The true Messiah, Jesus Christ, deliberately set out to ensure that the disciples saw Him as God’s Messiah and not man’s Messiah.
That is why right there and then, the Lord called his disciples and lovingly told them, as if explaining to them the way of the true Messiah:
“If any wish to come after me, 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, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it.”
And then He added, “For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life?”
Balik-Tanaw is a group blog of Promotion of Church People’s Response. The Lectionary Gospel reflection is an invitation for meditation, contemplation, and action. As we nurture our faith by committing ourselves to journey with the people, we also wish to nourish the perspective coming from the point of view of hope and struggle of the people. It is our constant longing that even as crisis intensifies, the faithful will continue to strengthen their commitment to love God and our neighbor by being one with the people in their dreams and aspirations. The Title of the Lectionary Reflection would be Balik –Tanaw , isang PAGNINILAY . It is about looking back (balik) or revisiting the narratives and stories from the Biblical text and seeing, reading, and reflecting on these with the current context (tanaw).
