SERMON: Who Do You Think Jesus is?
I will begin the sermon with a question for you to ponder?
Who do you think Jesus is? Who do you think Jesus was, is and will be? Who is Jesus?
The corner stone of this church and Christianity.
The white statue of Christ on the altar is a certain depiction of Jesus Christ. A beautiful statue with its serenity and gentle features of a loving Christ stretching his arms out to us.
His long flowing hair, his white garments, his bare feet with and open hands marked by the crucifixion… tells us that this is the depiction of the crucified Christ.
The earthly man called Jesus might have been a little bit more colorful, tired and worn: with tanned skin, brown hair, red or blue cape, sandals and bare dirty feet from walking the dusty roads of Palestine. But still the man called Jesus was present, compassionate and loving stretching out his hands and his blessings to all he met.
The historical Jesus and the Resurrected Christ.
The same? A historical person and a religious theological concept revealed in the Scriptures.
Who is Jesus? Who do you think he was and is?
Todays Gospel from Matthew is a moment when Jesus asks his disciples to say who they think he is.
It is kind of a strange question.
By this point in their time together so much had already happened: miracles of every kind, sermons on the mountain and on the plain, conflicts with religious leaders, powerful demonstrations of spiritual authority, and lots of teaching.
And yet after all this, as the disciples made their way toward yet another village in Caesarea Philippi, Jesus asks them not only what strangers think he is all about—how he is doing in the polls—but what the disciples themselves make of him.
It is all very well that some in the crowd think that he is John the Baptist come back from the dead, or Elijah, Jeremiah, or one of the other ancient prophets. But this is not what he is after. Instead, Jesus insists on going personal and, in the present tense, he asks, “But who do you say that I am?” (Matt. 16:15).
His point-blank question is, of course, meant to put them on the spot, to provoke an honest response. When Peter gives it— “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God”—he offers the answer on which the church is built.
But just as vital as the answer, I think, is the question itself, “But who do you say that I am?”
It is important that Jesus asks this not at the beginning of his relationship with the disciples but well down the road, and indeed not far from the end.
It is as if to know who Jesus is means having to ask about him again and again; it means accepting the fact that you can never quite “get” him; it means acknowledging your need to constantly get to know who Jesus is. You might eagerly confess your faith with fine words of affirmation like Peter, who jumps out like a Jack in the Box every time to show that he knows the right answer and the right confession. But the question is does he really know any better then the rest of the disciples, than us, who Jesus is. Didn’t he later on in his life and ministry get lost, betrays his faith and Jesus….?
And maybe it also means asking who he is outside of church, outside the traditions, outside the creeds and confessions - asking it any place where you find yourself in need or at a loss, anyplace where the answers are not already lined up and waiting for you to choose among them.
Who do You think Jesus is?
What if, perhaps only for a moment, we let go of the white marble man with the flowing hair and garments at the stained-glass window.
What if you put to the side, respectfully, Jesus Christ of the Creed, and the one who “is named Wonderful, Counselor, Prince of Peace.”
What if we looked beyond the metaphorical, mysterious, symbolic traditonal names of Jesus….
Peter’s Messiah. Or Master, Rabbi, Son of David, Son of Man, Son of God, King of the Jews— “the lily of the valley, the bright and morning star, the fairest of ten thousand.”
Beyond what Jesus did call himself: “I am the bread that comes down from heaven,” “I am the light of the world,” “I am the way, the truth, and the life.”
What if we dare asking, quite simply—and without being sure of the answer— “Who is Jesus Christ?”
Sometimes we limit Jesus to be in our traditions, creeds and confession. To be labeled with all the beautiful words like Light, Bread, Way, Truth and Messiah.
Sometimes we have to see past these barriers of tradition and comfort – and look to the moment and see how Jesus is now today in our lives and world.
Last Sunday we did not have service here in the church; we did not meet to confess our faith with the words of the old creed , Jesus Christ his only begotten son, we did not have service as usual.
Instead, a group of us went to the Border. To the border of US and Mexico but also to the border of other things: the border of our creed and comfort, the border of our imagination and tradition, the border of our humanity and faith.
We went to the border and crossed the border and touched the physical tall wall that divides not only lands but people, but also families, communities, humanity and compassion.
We touched the wall that touched us as we worshipped looking to the other side where others gathered on the American side… while we had crossed the border to the other side.
The service was different from the usual service in a beautiful sanctuary – it was outside under the blue, blue skies of Mexico at the fine Pacific Ocean that we share…. Just divided by an imposing ugly wall of politics, history and fear.
We shared time of service and communion – and we shared peace greeting and lunch.
Who do you think Jesus is?
At Border Church, Jesus was there all along. In the hymns. In the voices. In the prayers. In the hope. In humanity. In the welcome. In the community.
Then we drove through the winding road of dust and broken asphalt up the hills, through neighborhood so poor, beaten and despaired but still homes, - to Comunidad de Luz… a beautiful shelter for Migrant Mothers and the Children.
Who do you think Jesus is?
In every face of a mother who was safe with her sweet child, we saw Jesus. In every despair of a mother who was safe but missing her children. In the face of the young women and the children show were safe for a while.
In every helping hand and caring committed community leader trying to make a change and make a road ahead with hope and dignity.
Jesus was there in the beautiful Chapel on top of the 6-floor Shelter Building, looking out over the sprawling city of Tijuana into the promised land of San Diego.
We all received a prayer bracelet/ rosary. Thanking us for support and asking us to pray with and for them. Asking us to pray these 10 prayers;
1. Gracious God, bless the women, mothers and children of Commuidad de Luz
2. Loving God, surround every migrant woman and child with your protection, comfort and unfailing love.
3.Lord og mercy, grant courage and hope to every mother who sacrifices so her children may have a safer and brighter future.
4.Heavenly father, watch over every child on the journey, keeping them safe and reminding them that they are precious in your sight.
5.God of compassion, heal the hearts of those who have experienced fear, violence, loss or separation and restore them with your peace.
6. Prince of peace, calm and anxious hearts and replace uncertainly with the confidence that you walk beside your children every step of the way.
7. Holy spirit, unite people of every nation and language in the work of justice, mercy and reconciliation for all who are displaced.
8. Faithful God may every migrant woman and child finde safety, healing, belonging and the opportunity to flourish as your beloved children.
9. Lord Jesus inspire us to see Your face in every migrant woman and child, and to respond with love dignity and hospitality.
10. Gracious God, bless all who welcome, serve and advocate for migrants with wisdom compassion, strength and perseverance.
Who do you think Jesus is? He is the one praying for us as his children – to always see our neighbor in the same loving light that he sees us.
That is who Jesus is. Here with us today. And at every border or boundary that might divide and separate us.
Amen.