Tag Archive: Peter


This is the first sermon (September 13) in our sermon series, “The Way of the Cross: Our Journey with Jesus,” at Community Lutheran.

 

Today is a huge day! We’re kicking off the Program Year with Rally Day, we’re giving blood, and we’re even training Sunday School and Confirmation teachers.  It’s also the day we’re kicking off our sermon series, “The Way of the Cross: Our Journey with Jesus.”  Over the next six weeks, we’ll be exploring more what it means to be a disciple of Christ by taking a closer look at Jesus’ encounters with others in the Gospel of Mark.

This discussion in today’s text between Jesus and the disciples, and especially Peter, is a great way to start off our series.  Jesus and the disciples are traveling through Caesarea Philippi, an ancient town, with a strong cult to the Greek deity, Pan.  As part of worshiping Pan, there were frequent sacrifices made.  It’s in this area that Jesus asks his disciples, “who do people say that I am?”  They tell him what they’ve heard – that he’s John the Baptist come back from the dead, or the prophet Elijah returned to earth, or maybe one of the other rock star prophets of Israel’s past.

The Ruins of Caesarea Philippi (Banias/Panias) - January 2014

The Ruins of Caesarea Philippi (Banias/Panias); The cave for sacrifice can be easily seen even from a distance – January 2014

I can see Jesus nodding thoughtfully, taking it all in.  And then I see him looking at them and asking, “But who do you say that I am? Thanks for reporting what you’ve heard – that’s well and good, but I want to hear who you say that I am.”  Silence falls over the disciples as they wonder what’s going on.  Slowly, Peter clears his throat and says, “You are the Messiah.”  Jesus tells them to keep quiet about his identity and they continue walking.

I always imagine Peter smiling, truly pleased with himself for coming up with the right answer and thinking, “I’m in good cause I’m with the Messiah.”  Maybe he was even thinking “YES! I AM AWESOME!” Or whatever the Aramaic equivalent of that is.  But, of course, the story doesn’t end there! Nope, unfortunately for Peter’s ego, they keep walking.  Mark’s Gospel tells us, “Then Jesus began to teach them that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again.  He said all this quite openly.”

In this area where people sacrificed animals to satisfy a half-man, half-goat god, fully human and fully divine Jesus reveals that he will suffer and die.  He reveals openly that he will offer himself as a sacrifice, bridging the gap between God and humanity once and for all.  This is too much for Peter.  It messes with his image of who a god should be and what a god should do.  It’s not at all what he thought the Messiah should be about.  Jesus’ teachings about a suffering Messiah are completely the opposite of God who is glorious, mighty and worthy of praise, aren’t they?

Peter can’t take it and so he speaks up, being the bold and the brash fellow that he is.  Maybe he was thinking he’d get two right answers in a row.  No such luck, because Jesus tells him “get behind me, Satan.”  Zing! From all-star disciple to major failure in a few verses.  That’s why I love Peter! We all have those moments where we feel like we’ve got it and we’re moving in a great direction and then … BAM! We realize we don’t have it at all.  It’s like a scene in the 1980s comedy, “The Three Amigos.”  Steve Martin’s character is chained in the enemy’s prison, but he realizes he can move the chains by pulling his arms and legs forward toward the chain release lever.  He slowly creeps forward, saying, “gonna make it.  Gonna make it. Gonna make it.  Gonna make it.”  He reaches the release lever, and shouts, “I made it!” Then is slammed back against the wall with an “Ow.”

This exchange between Peter and Jesus is just like that – Peter thinks he’s figured it out and Jesus clarifies pretty strongly that he hasn’t.

I find Jesus’ words interesting and not just because he just told Peter that he’s acting like Satan, the accuser and tempter.  I find his words interesting because if I had an enemy, the last place I would want the enemy or the adversary or the accuser to be was at my back – I can’t see him, I don’t know what’s going on.  These words are a form of rebuke for sure because they also appear in the Old Testament, but I think it’s also saying something to Peter.

If you’re behind someone, most likely you’re following them.  Jesus tells Peter to get in line – “get behind me.”  Stop setting your mind on human things – the things everyone in this world thinks are important.  It’s like Jesus is saying, “Peter, don’t you see? Those aren’t the things that God cares about.  God has something else in mind – something that involves dying and rising, sacrifice and new life.”  So Jesus tells Peter “get behind me” and to all who are gathered, “take up your cross and follow me.”  It’s a lot harder to follow someone else, the ways of the world, or our own evil hearts, if we have our eyes firmly set on Christ and we are carrying our crosses.

Ok, but what on earth does it mean to deny ourselves and take up our crosses to follow Christ?  Does it mean saying of annoyances we experience, “I suppose this is my cross to bear.”  No.  It means turning away from the things that would lead us away from God and seeking to live out our lives in a Christ-like way.  Carrying our crosses is a constant reminder of whose we are and what he has done.  It is a reminder of God’s sacrifice on our behalf – a sacrifice made out of sheer love.  Who do you say that Jesus is? And what would it look like to live formed by Christ’s sacrificial love, so that we might share that same sacrificial love with those around us?

It might mean spending time working with the hungry children in our area, getting to know them, hearing their stories, and ensuring that they have food.  It might mean welcoming refugees, offering up your resources and maybe even your home so that someone might have a warm, safe place to stay.  It might mean journeying with someone as a Stephen Minister and providing a listening ear and a loving heart.  It might mean sitting with a friend who has lost a job and being there for them.  It might mean spending time tending the gardens of the church so that it looks welcoming for those coming inside.  The possibilities are endless.

The crucifixion, and indeed all of Jesus’ human life, took place in the midst of a period of oppression, poverty, suffering, despair and difficulty.  And the fact that we are called to take up the cross as well means that we are called not to run from the difficulties, the ugliness, or the pain of the world, but that we are called to journey with those who suffer.  Anglican N.T. Wright even described prayer in this way: “Prayer stands cruciform at the place where the world is in pain to hold together Jew and Greek and slave and free. To hold together male and female, to hold together a battered and bleeding world and say, ‘No, there is a different way to be human.’”

Yes, there is a different way to be human.  And ironically, it looks like letting go of the things society upholds in favor of the cross.  It means that in order to pick up our crosses and follow Christ, we sometimes have to say, “get behind me, Satan.  I want nothing to do with you” to the things that tempt us to despair, to give up, to fear, or to forget God’s love for the entire cosmos. So to what do you need to say, “get behind me?” Is it the rat race? Is it to taking on more work in order to seek some kind of esteem? Is it spending money on things you don’t really need? Is it that dread feeling of hopelessness when you look at the world? Is it the voice of scarcity that would tell you to safeguard everything you have and not share it with others because there might not be enough? Is it that nagging voice that says God cannot or will not forgive?

Today, I want to invite us to say to those things what we need to say – to put them in their right place in our lives.  Behind Christ.  Not before Christ.  To say, “get behind me.  I follow Christ.”  As Jesus says in the reading, “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.  For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? Indeed, what can they give in return for their life?” The way of the cross is hard.  It’s arduous and often times it’s not as glamorous as the life of those we see on TV or in movies.  But ultimately it is the way of true life – of life that is lived for something bigger than itself.  For the sake of God and for the sake of others.

Peter may have thought he won the prize with his first answer about Jesus being the Messiah.  And he was right.  But it was actually his mistake that led to the life-giving lesson.  Jesus is the Messiah, but it’s the kind of Messiah he is, and the people we are called to be as a result, that is truly life-giving.  God chooses to work through the weak, the imperfect, the foolhardy and often confused disciples, the brutal cross, and ultimately, the surprising, in order to being about abundant life for all people.  As followers of Christ, we are not perfect, but God has seen fit to work in and through us for the good of the world.  It may not be what we were expecting when we set out on this journey to follow Christ, but it is good indeed.  Thanks be to God.  Amen.

© 2015. Annabelle Peake Markey. All rights reserved.

Last Sunday’s sermon on Matthew 16:21-28, preached at Community Lutheran Church in Sterling, VA.

Peter has got to be one of my favorite disciples. I mean, last week, he gets a gold star for naming Jesus as the Messiah. And then this week, Jesus is calling him Satan. In my mind I imagine Peter frolicking around saying “Jesus is Messiah! I got it! I got it!” Then in the next moment, he’s looking down at his shoes and saying, “I don’t got it…”

To use a recent metaphor, it was like Jeff and me trying to kayak between Chincoteague and Assateague on Monday. We could see where we wanted to go and were paddling together thinking, “we’re getting there!” But then when we looked around, we realized we hadn’t gone anywhere and we were, in fact, drifting backwards due to the currents and the wind. So sad. One step forward… two steps back.

And frankly, don’t we all sometimes feel like Peter must have felt?I know it’s usually the minute I think I’ve got something figured out that I realize, “nope! Still oblivious!” And really, who can blame Peter for his outburst – for trying to stop Jesus from talking about the fact he must suffer and die? Peter is listening to his Lord – his friend – and he’s hearing that this person he loves is going to suffer and die. No one wants to hear that someone they love is hurting or dying. And no one is really certain what to do or what to say when someone they love is hurting. No wonder Peter takes Jesus aside and tells him, “God forbid it, Lord! This must never happen to you.”

Jesus’ response makes it clear that his future suffering and death on the cross aren’t easy for him either. He responds by calling Peter, “Satan,” a word meaning “the adversary.” Jesus hears in Peter’s words the temptation to abandon his mission. And his forceful response shows that whereas Peter’s insight about Jesus as the Messiah was divinely given, this statement is temptation from the one who opposes God. Although Peter might have thought he was being helpful and saying there had to be a better way to save the world, Jesus straightens Peter out by saying he’s not looking at things from God’s point of view.

As the Talmud says, “We do not see things as they are, we see things as we are.” Peter saw as he was – sad and afraid of what might come down the road for him. He couldn’t see that this was the way to new life.  He couldn’t see that Jesus’ suffering and death would bring about new life for all of creation. He saw things from a human, not divine, point of view.

And boy is that easy to do! Believing in Jesus and loving him, ok. But denying yourself, taking up your cross, following someone else, and losing your life… that’s a hard sell! Who really wants to do that? Who wants to die to themselves in order to gain new life? I’m just fine where I am now, thank you very much!

But that is what Jesus is calling Peter and us to in this passage. It’s what we are invited into when we are baptized. In those waters and with ancient words we are crucified with Christ and raised to new life. We die to our old selves and as the Apostle Paul describes, we are clothed with Christ. We’re marked with the cross of Christ forever. That is not only a phrase we say, but a part of our identity – in baptism we are made a people of the cross, saved by God’s grace, and called to follow the way our Lord and Savior walked.

Called to turn from ourselves and our own egos and to turn toward God. Called to turn from merely serving our own desires to serve and care for others. Called to practice dying to our selfishness in order to listen for and obey God’s call in our lives.

         Whoa. That’s a tall order. Frankly, it sounds exhausting and like a lot of hard work. I like the way Audrey Assad puts it in her song, “The Way You Move:”

I know that the hardest part
of love is not the
things I have to give, no
It’s what I give up, I’m giving up ground
and I’m trading in my solitude for safety now,

All my pride, you know it doesn’t stand a chance
against the way you move,
You’re tearing up roots & breaking down walls,
and I don’t stand a chance at all,
against the way you move.

I think she hits the nail on the head. It’s hard to hear Jesus’ call in this morning’s reading because it challenges us to let go of our pride for the sake of the Gospel. To die to ourselves in order to be free to experience new life and transformation in Christ. It’s a call that requires sacrifice for the sake of God’s rule and for the benefit of others – even those we don’t particularly like. In a society of individualism, instant gratification, and consumerism, so many things bombard us and promise to make us better or happier people. It’s especially hard to turn away from those things in order to follow this challenging, but life-giving call of Jesus.

So what are you unwilling to let go of or to lose in order to follow Christ? Maybe it’s your reputation. Maybe it’s your money. Maybe it’s your feeling of superiority. Maybe it’s control. Maybe it’s your idea of success. And what about us as a congregation?

We want to grow, but it’s so hard for us to really let go and say, “Ok, God. I’m all yours. Help me to follow you, even if it’s into places I don’t want to go. Shape me into the person you’re calling me to be.” We find ourselves thinking, “what will I be giving up in order to grow deeper in my faith?” Or, “God, what are you going to change about me or ask me to do?” Or, “God, I’m scared that you will call me to something I cannot possibly handle.”

Following God is hard because it requires sacrifice and probably doing things we don’t readily want to do. Look at Jeremiah. He was serving as God’s prophet. He called God’s word a joy and a delight and he took these words on wholeheartedly, living them out. As he says in the reading, he didn’t even hang out with the fun crowd, but sat with the weight of God’s words of judgment to the people on his shoulders. And now he’s fed up, hurting, indignant and telling God he feels like he got suckered into something that he doesn’t really want to do anymore!

And God’s response is interesting. If you come back to me and continue to do my will, you will speak my words as a prophet and people will listen and turn to you.   Even though they fight against you, I will give you strength so that they will not overtake you. I will be with you even though this road is difficult. This is the promise we, too, have in Christ. In taking up our crosses and following Jesus, we are going where he has been and he is accompanying us on the journey. No matter what. It is not a promise of an easy life, but the promise of Emmanuel, God with us through it all.

When we find ourselves stuck in a rut or overwhelmed by fears or worries, remember that carrying our crosses is never something we do alone. Even Jesus had help carrying his cross from Simon of Cyrene. We too, need help from Christ and from others in the body of Christ to carry our crosses. When we are baptized and marked with the cross, parents, sponsors and the entire congregation promise to help us live out our faith in the world.  

Because, ultimately, the act of taking up a cross is public.   Those condemned to die by crucifixion were forced to take up their cross and parade to the location of their execution. It was a public humiliation. And when we take up the cross, the ultimate symbol of Christ’s love and obedience, it is a public event. We don’t simply do it in the safety of our own homes, but it calls us to go out into the world and follow Christ in word and deed. We take up the cross for the sake of others. We bear one another’s burdens and lay down our lives that we might find new life in the people and places God calls us to encounter.

To be a disciple means to not only be a follower, but to be a student. As we think about the school year and Sunday School beginning again, we are reminded that we are called to be life-long students of Christ and his cross. We are students always learning what it means to walk in the way of the cross, to turn from ourselves and to God.   To turn outward, instead of being curved in upon ourselves, Luther’s very definition of sin. We may balk at or stumble and fall under the weight of the cross, but we are never alone in trying to carry it. Thanks be to God. Amen.

© 2014. Annabelle Peake Markey. All rights reserved.

Last Sunday’s sermon on 1 Kings 19:9-18 and Matthew 14:22-33 preached at Community Lutheran Church.

If you come by my office during the week, and I invite you all to swing by at any time, you will probably hear music coming from my computer. I might even be humming or singing along with something. Or, if you’re particularly lucky, you might be like poor Bob who caught me dancing and rocking out at my desk this past week to a particularly jazzy and soul-filled version of “My Life Flows On In Endless Song!” I’m sorry you had to see that, Bob!

Music is so important in my life. It gives me a means of expressing myself, and helps connect thoughts and ideas. It has moved me to tears and inspired worship, and it’s a way I find joy and peace. As an extrovert, I also find meaning and joy in conversation and socializing with others. And I admit, as a Millennial, I do use social media – in other words, I’m connected with others in real space and cyber space.

Even so, throughout my life I have found myself being drawn to silence, contemplation, and stillness, time and time again.   And as much as I love rocking out in my car or hanging out with people, I crave silence and contemplation.

Finding time to spend time with God and to listen to or for God is a theme in this week’s lessons. Even last week, as Pr. Joe pointed out, Jesus tried to take time to pray to his Father, but was interrupted by the crowds upon whom he had compassion. This morning, we hear about the prophet Elijah’s need for rest, for Jesus’ time of prayer, and for the psalmist’s desire to “listen to what the Lord God is saying.”

And yet, in these readings, particularly the Old Testament and Gospel, the followers and servants of God… well, they miss the boat. Elijah, God’s feisty prophet, has just had his incredible showdown with the 450 prophets of Baal in order to prove that the God of Israel is the Lord of all. God showed up in a big way, and following the debate, Elijah killed the prophets of Baal, which did not sit well with Ahab and Jezebel. Since they were so upset, they tried to kill Elijah and he fled into the wilderness, so worn out and distraught, he wanted to die. After being sustained for 40 days and nights by God’s angels in the wilderness, Elijah finds himself at Mt. Horeb, also known as Mt. Sinai.

Statue of Elijah killing the Prophets of Baal on Mt. Carmel (From: http://tomorrowsreflection.com/wp-content/uploads/Elijah-at-Mt.-Carmel1.jpg)

Statue of Elijah killing the Prophets of Baal on Mt. Carmel (From: http://tomorrowsreflection.com/wp-content/uploads/Elijah-at-Mt.-Carmel1.jpg)

Sitting in a cave, Elijah hears God’s voice, which asks him “What are you doing here, Elijah?” And he responds with a mini-rant, basically saying, “I have been super awesome and gung ho for you, God. Your people are not following your ways; they’re destroying your altars and killing all my fellow prophets. Now I’m all by myself and they’re even trying to kill me!”

Now, Elijah is blowing things out of proportion – there are other prophets and there are at least 7,000 faithful people left in Israel. And I find it interesting that God doesn’t respond directly with a speech, but tells Elijah to go and to watch because God is going to show up. There’s a great wind, and a crazy earthquake, and a blazing fire, and then, sheer silence. And it’s not just the absence of sound, it’s a stillness that’s full of anticipation and is humming with potential. And when Elijah hears that, he wraps his robe around his face and steps out of the cave. Again God asks, “What are you doing here, Elijah?”

And rather than responding with awe and wonder, humility and obedience to what has just happened, Elijah repeats his previous rant word for word. Face Palm I can just imagine God’s head shaking and God saying “what do I have to do to get through to you?!”

Jump forward a few centuries. Jesus and the disciples have fed the multitudes, and Jesus puts the disciples in a boat telling them to go on ahead. He dismisses the crowds and then he goes up the mountain by himself to pray. He’s praying at night, by himself, on a mountain and during the fourth watch of the night, between 3:00 and 6:00 a.m., he sets off across the waves that are aggressively pounding the disciples’ boat.

As he approaches, the disciples are seized by fear thinking Jesus is a ghost or an apparition. He speaks to them, telling them, “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid” and his words echo God’s words to Moses when he heard God say, “I AM.” Jesus is saying, “take heart, I am God; don’t be afraid.”

This answer is sufficient for the other disciples, but Peter tests his Lord by saying, “if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” So often, we praise Peter for his faith in getting out of the boat, but it’s important to realize that the other figures who ask Jesus “if it is you…” include Satan, the high priest at his trial, and those who mock him on the cross. That’s some terrible company to be in! This is not one of Peter’s shining moments. He does walk on water, but becomes frightened when he sees the strong winds and begins to sink like a rock. With lightening quick reflexes Jesus reaches out and grabs him, asking him why he began to doubt. They get back into the boat, the winds cease, and the disciples worship him as the Son of God.

 

What’s amazing is that Jesus has already calmed a terrifying storm for the disciples. He’s cured people, done miracles, fed the multitudes only hours earlier, and they still doubt who he is and what he can do. Once again, God spoke and showed up in incredible ways and the disciples missed it.

What is God trying to say to you? Are you listening? Are you making time to hear?

I don’t know about you, but I am awfully good at telling God how I think things ought to be! Sadly, I’m not always so eager to listen. I’m great at running around attempting to complete that never-ending to do list, all the while forgetting to carve out that crucial time for silence and solitude in my life. And sometimes, when God is speaking, whether in the silence of my heart, through Scripture, or through trusted mentors, colleagues, family or friends, I have a hard time listening then, too.   It’s then that I feel like Elijah, so hung up on my own stuff that I completely ignore that God has just shown up all around me and I persist in my own stubbornness. Sound familiar?

Or maybe we are blinded by our fear, failing to step back and see what God is doing and how God is trying to come through the storms and chaos to reach us. Maybe it’s just what God is up to or calling us to do that scares us, like the disciples who couldn’t believe it was really their leader on the water. Or, God reaches us and we, like Peter, don’t take heart and believe Jesus’ words that he is God and Lord of all, but rather put him to the test.

Yes, there’s a lot of fear in these readings as well. Elijah runs from Jezebel and, really, from his calling as a prophet of God. The disciples let fearful superstitions rule them instead of seeing Jesus as the God capable of taming the chaotic waters underfoot. The people of God are afraid of listening to and believing God. They let what was going on around them and inside of them dictate their interactions with God. Don’t we, too, let fear, noise, distractions, troubles, and our own insecurities sidetrack us from encountering God and God’s work in and around us?

If our Lord and Savior needed prayer time alone on a mountain to rejuvenate, what makes us think we don’t need to spend time in prayer and solitude as well? Perhaps it’s because we think it’s “unproductive.” Or maybe it’s because we are afraid of listening to or for God – afraid of hearing something we don’t want to hear. But in order to grow in our faith, we must face our fears.

On Thursday, we heard the results of the Church Assessment Tool. And one of our areas for growth is that people want to grow in their spiritual vitality. I am thrilled about this because it means that we as a community are interested in being transformed by God – that the Holy Spirit is at work here and calling us to greater discipleship. At the same time, this type of growth means that we are called to engage more deeply in prayer, study, worship, service and generosity. All of these activities are training so that we are better able to recognize God, whether on a mountain in silence, or in the midst of a storm. We spend time in prayer and solitude, but we come together in worship and community to support, encourage and challenge one another as fellow disciples. Elijah made the mistake of thinking he was the only one left who cared for God and he was plunged into despair. He missed the chance to be in community with God’s other faithful servants.

Jesus never stops coming to us in our boats when we’re quivering with fear. He never stops reaching out to us when we begin to sink because the winds are too fierce and are howling too loudly. Time and time again, he calls out, “take heart, I am God, don’t be afraid.” May we listen to God’s voice, giving us courage to face our fears in the midst of every storm. Amen.

© 2014. Annabelle Peake Markey. All rights reserved.

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