disclosing new worlds

Proverbs 1: 20-33
Psalm 19
James 3: 1-12
Mark 8: 27-38

There are lots of words and their relation to truth, wisdom and community in this week’s readings. Plenty of “tongue-use”! Running through all the readings is something important about both the power and the ambiguity of words; about how what we say relates to what we believe and how we do and don’t live. Proverbs challenges us about listening to the right words – about following in the way of wisdom. Psalm 19 celebrates the Law – words which delight the heart and shape life for flourishing. James focuses on the ways in which the tongue can run away with us, with words that have both the power to build up, to praise and to shatter and destroy. And, at the midpoint of Mark’s gospel, we have Peter’s confession, the passion predictions, and Jesus’ startling response to Peter.

The incident at Caesarea Philippi is often seen as a turning point in the gospel – the moment when Peter “gets it”. “You are the Messiah, the Christ!” he proclaims. This is portrayed as Peter’s epiphany. Midway through his ministry, when his disciples have been with him and experienced the healings and miracles, when they have heard him and spent days and nights with him, month after month, Jesus says, “Ok guys. You’ve seen it all, heard it all, shared it all; now, what do you make of it? Who do you reckon I am?” And Peter, on this reading, gets it right. He “sees” – just like the blind man Jesus healed in the previous verses at Bethsaida.

If only that were true! Wouldn’t it be nice? Wouldn’t it be good to know that Jesus, just beginning to face the way of the cross ahead, is surrounded by staunch allies – people who share his ministry and mission, his understanding of God’s kingdom and his priorities? Wouldn’t it be good to know that he was among friends – even if there were only twelve of them?

Yes, it would be – but that’s not what Mark gives us! Why do we actually even expect that? Well, probably because we more easily remember Matthew’s version of the confession (Matthew 16: 13ff). And probably because we want it to be like that. Most of all, though, because it’s the way we operate: “Get our theology right, and that’s it!” As long as we get the technical terms right (in this case, recognising that Jesus is the Messiah), then we’re being faithful followers.

But then we’re really shocked when Jesus turns to Pete and calls him “Satan”! How can Peter go from saint to Satan in 4 short verses? That’s precisely the sort of shock Mark intends to administer, because he wants to startle us out of our complacency that we “know” Jesus and that it’s enough to “get our theology right”. We should have been prepared for it. Our antennae should have gone up the moment we saw that Caesarea Philippi follows immediately on the heels of the healing of a blind man. We should know Mark’s style by now: he’s ironic. We should expect precisely the fact that the disciples will fail to “see”. And that is what happens.

Far from presenting Jesus surrounded by friends as he begins the journey to the cross, Mark begins the narrative of the disintegration of the disciple group. This is the group who will have abandoned and denied Jesus; who will have turned their backs on their friend and master in his greatest need. This is the group who will be Jesus’ closest opponents of the way of the cross and who will do most actively to dissuade him from his course. The point is that the disciples can neither understand nor accept Jesus’ version of messiahship because it involves the cross.

“Messiah”, “Son of Man” and the way of the cross
“Who do you say that I am?” Jesus asks his disciples. They’ve already reported the word on the grapevine: Jesus is John the Baptist (come back to life); or Elijah. The point here is that John is presented as an Elijah figure – the great prophet who was expected as the herald of “the great and terrible Day of the Lord” (Malachi 4:5). Peter says more than that: he calls Jesus the Messiah – the culmination of all that God planned and promised. And he’s right. Jesus is the Messiah. So why is Jesus’ immediate response to shut Peter and the others up? He “sternly ordered” them not to tell anyone about him. “Sternly ordered” is very strong. Think Mafia threats to keep quiet and you’re at the right sort of level of seriousness (though not, presumably, right about the content!).

This is the “messianic secrecy” motif, a narrative device identified by Wrede. That is not to suggest that its roots do not go back to Jesus himself. The point that Mark makes is that Jesus is in the business of redefining messiahship. He is the messiah, but the dominant messianic categories – political liberator of Israel, royal Davidic figure and/or spectacular miracle-worker – don’t fit Jesus’ mission. That is a different “way” of being messiah – a different path and a different destination. Jesus’ way is the way of the cross. That is why, in the very next verse, Jesus goes on to teach them about the forthcoming passion. It follows perfectly logically from the command to silence when we understand it as an explanation for his concern that the disciples don’t go around saying, “Hey! Listen up! This is the messiah!”

The passion predictions lay out Jesus’ messianic agenda: suffering and death. This is not a “way” calculated to win friends and disciples! “He said all this quite openly”, Mark tells us. In other words, he’s saying, “Jesus couldn’t have been clearer. He laid it out clearly – on the line. There could be no mistaking what he was saying. There was no “wriggle-room”!” Peter doesn’t even try to wriggle! He grabs Jesus, takes him aside, and lays the law down. Imagine the conversation. It’s at least, “Look, Jesus, just forget all that death and suffering stuff! What’s wrong with you? You’ve got power! You’re a hit! You can feed crowds of people, cast out demons, heal people. Just imagine how they’ll flock to you! You want followers? Jesus, you could raise a standing army at the click of your fingers. We’re with you! Israel – no, the world! – is just yours for the taking! Think of it, Jesus: king of the world! What couldn’t you do? And how much good couldn’t you do? Why, these people will worship you as a god! So cut this other suffering and death” nonsense!”

What we are meant to hear, in other words, are echoes in Peter’s rebuke of the Matthean material about the temptation narratives. Let’s not be precious about this: Peter tells Jesus something that Jesus desperately wants to hear! It’s got power and pull. Its power is to distract Jesus from his chosen path – the path that he actually desperately fears and wants to avoid. Here is a reprise of Jesus in the wilderness, and a preview of Jesus in Gethsemane. He is being faced with the way of the cross and every fibre of his soul and being resists. How much better to be a kingly, powerful messiah! How much easier to have “all the kingdoms of the world” than the kingdom of God, which is reached only by way of the cross!

This is the reason for his sharp rebuke to Peter: “Get behind me, Satan!” He immediately calls the crowds and explains that this is the way his determined to travel, so that any who wish to follow must travel the same route. There are two ways: the divine way and the human way. The human way is an option for the path of glory, adulation, miracle and power. It is an option to save its own life. The divine way is the way of the cross – of humility, scandal, and incomprehensible self-sacrifice.

This is the parallel to the “Two Ways” passage in Proverbs. There are two choices: the way of foolishness, or the way of Wisdom. Wisdom – the way of Yahweh – is portrayed as a woman wandering the streets, calling out almost in vain to the heedless crowds that throng the busy streets and squares of the city, blind to their own folly. The way of Wisdom is the way to avoid calamity. It belongs to an early tradition in the Wisdom literature of the bible, underwritten by the belief that troubles and disasters are a result of abandoning the ways of Yahweh and thereby cutting oneself off from Yahweh’s provision and blessing. It is only later in the developed tradition – supremely in the book of Job – that we see a shift: following the way of Wisdom is no guarantee of an easy life. Job raises acutely the question of incomprehensible suffering, and the crumbling of any easy equation between wisdom (faith in Yahweh) and a trouble-free life.

What we see in the juxtaposition of the gospel and the book of Proverbs, therefore, is what Paul will call “the foolishness of the cross”. There is an irony here: fidelity to God requires that Jesus walk a road that is manifestly “foolish”! It is a way of suffering, failure and self-destruction. Small wonder, then, that Jesus – from the very outset of the passion predictions here in this chapter – recoils so thoroughly from it! There is indeed a “wisdom” to it – the wisdom of resurrection. There is no way to resurrection other than through the cross. So Jesus is right when he says that the only way to save one’s life is to lose it for his sake, and for the sake of the gospel, is to lose it. There is no other road that leads there. But it is not a road to be taken lightly, enthusiastically or joyfully. It’s time we stopped being sentimental about the cross, because that sort of sentimentality disguises its awfulness and its “foolishness”. The call to the way of the cross – to discipleship – is a fearful call, and if we hear what it really means, we will resist it as strenuously as both Peter and Jesus do!

This is why Jesus refuses to be known as “messiah” at this point. Yes, he is the messiah – but the messiah whose messiahship is via the cross. To hear “You are the messiah” as Peter meant that is to mishear. It is to get Jesus radically wrong, and therefore to get Christian faith radically wrong. Jesus is no wonder-working, would-be royal!

The kingdoms of the world – that was the most seductive version of messiahship on offer. But the way of God – the kingdom of God – is different. It takes a different route. Ironically, just as Jesus is the messiah (though not as others understood messiahship), so too he is king – ruler of the kingdom of God – though not as kingship was commonly understood. This is the point of the title, “Son of Man”.

“Son of Man” has become a christological title because it was Jesus’ self-description. He chooses “Son of Man” as a way of speaking more truly about himself (before the cross) than “messiah”. But it was not a title circulating in the thought and theology of the people of his day. “Son of man” in his day was a Jewish colloquialism for “a human being” – “a bloke”. It literally means, “I as a man”. Jesus’ hearers would have taken it as insignificant. Yet there is an irony to Jesus’ use of it. There is a hidden meaning. He uses it in reference to the heavenly figure of the Son of Man in Daniel 7: 13-14. Here the Son of Man is a human being-like figure who becomes king of the whole earth and ruler of an everlasting dominion. Daniel is apocalyptic literature. This type of literature presents everything in “code”. This is the “mystery”. The point is that only those “in the know” have the “key” to interpreting the code. Here Jesus takes up the title – in such a way that those outside of “the know” would hear it as insignificant and everyday. But to us – readers “in the know” – it plays as a statement: “I am a king. I am a ruler. But not one like you’ll imagine! I am king and messiah – but am both only by way of the cross!”

Truth, correlation and consistency (James 3: 1-12)
“It’s not just what you say that matters, but what you mean!” That’s what we see clearly in the conflict over words and titles between Jesus and his disciples. It’s no good getting the theology right if we mean something different. We behave often as though what is most important is getting the words right. We think that if we craft fine-sounding and worthy Church statements, we’ve “dealt” with an issue. But saying correct things is not the same as saying true things!

That is the whole thrust of James’ letter. He says in 2:1 (referring to the practice of favouritism) “When you live and act like that, can you really claim to believe in our glorious Lord Jesus Christ?” James doesn’t ask them for their church position paper on Christology – or, indeed, on how to treat people of different rank, class and income levels! He simply says, “Listen. I look at Jesus, and how he behaved. And I look at you, and how you behave. And I struggle to find the correlation! It doesn’t add up!”

What we say is important. But it isn’t the same thing as making clear what we believe! It is the correlation between words and actions that reveal the truth or otherwise of faith. Peter can say “You are the messiah!” – and then, with the same mouth and in the next breath, try to dissuade Jesus from being the messiah! Similarly, James points to the ways in which the believers in his church use their tongues both to bless one minute and curse the next.

I’m glad I’m not part of James’ church! It sounds as though they had real problems with the ways in which people used their tongues and spoke to one another! If the gospel passage in one sense pointed to the way in which actions shape words (by giving them their content), James is alive to the power of words to shape actions, relationships and personalities! It is not true that “sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me”! Words can wound, scar and remain in the psyche long after bones have healed and bruises faded. John Bell starts off music workshops by asking how many people have been shaped by being told that they can’t sing. He then tells them that they can – and proceeds (in most cases!) to work to undo what people have come to believe about themselves – the words they use to describe themselves.

Of course, James is concerned more about the words we use to each other and about each other than about “theology” – words about faith. But the two are intimately related. Like Jesus, words, for James, express what is “inside” – what is in the heart. He clearly believes that faith in Jesus issues in some sort of discernible transformation of people. They change character – become more like Jesus. And this is seen not only in actions but in the ways in which words are used to create or destroy relationships.

Words! Jesus is the Word – God’s self-disclosure in human form. Jesus, in other words, shows us what it is to be human, as well as what God is like. We are flawed and damaged, broken and needy. That is not to say that we are as bad as we could possibly be! Nor is it remotely to say that we are therefore unlovable as far as God is concerned! But it is to say that what we find in Jesus is not just a wonderful example to inspire us. We don’t need “reforming”, as human beings: we need “recreating”. And that is what Jesus does for us (as Paul reminds us in 2Corinthians 5:17). We have the chance to become a new creation – part of the new life of resurrection and salvation that God yearns to pour out. But that involves the death of the old, and the rising to life of the new. That is what we are given in Christ. It is above and beyond all that we can imagine or think. But it lies on the other side of the cross. And Jesus says, “There isn’t any other way, folks! I’ve looked – believe me, if there were, I’dve found it. So that’s the way I’m going. Want to follow?”

Amen.