TWEENTY-FIRST SUNDAY OF YEAR "A"

TWENTY-FIRST SUNDAY OF YEAR   I

“Who do you say I am” [Mt. 16, 13-20]?

 

Introduction: Jesus is asking each one of us right now, “Who do you say that I am?” We don’t like questions like this. They make us feel awkward, and our response, if we actually make one, if often superficial such as, “Of course, you’re God”, or, “You know I know”, or, “I haven’t time, I’ll think about it later.” The question isn’t meant to make us feel guilty but rather to get us to ponder the most important issue of our lives. Jesus wants me to think about who he is to me – no one else! Let us dare to spend a few moments before the Father asking him to reveal his precious Son to us. This is, in fact, his greatest desire. “Father, reveal Jesus to me. Help me come to know him as Son of the living God who loves me and died for me.”

Homily: It sometimes happens that when I make a phone call, someone else picks up the phone and has the cheek to ask, “Who’s this speaking?” I usually answer, “This is William Shakespeare!” You all know the original William Shakespeare. But may I remind you of Mr. Charles Lamb, last century’s British essayist. It if were not for Charles Lamb, William Shakespeare would be an unknown. It was Mr. Lamb who snatched the playwright from obscurity because he came to be looked upon as ancient and eminently forgettable. One night Charles Lamb and his cronies were chatting about Shakespeare over good port and Havana’s. One of his friends asked Lamb, “Supposing Shakespeare were to stroll into our dining room at this moment?” Charles Lamb replied, “We would raise a toast to the great man.”  Another friend asked, “Supposing Jesus Christ were to come into our company.” Lamb replied, “Ah, we would all get down on our knees instantly.”

Our great and beloved Hindu Bengali philosopher Vivekananda once said, “If I see Jesus Christ standing before me, I will put my hand into my heart, extract the blood and spread it on his feet.” {How did the fellow think of saying that before I did?}.  But there, ladies and gentlemen, is the $64 difference between the Man from Nazareth and all other people you can think of. Jesus Christ is God; and all others, no matter what their gifts, are but clowns strutting on the stage for a brief time.

When today’s Gospel opens, Jesus was in Caesarea Philippi in the north eastern corner of Palestine. There groupies and paparazzi would not think of looking for him. This was not his usual turf. The sand in his clock was running out. Yet, he had much to teach the Twelve before he could give them their diplomas and doctorates. This was quality classroom time. This, too, is one of the most decisive periods in the life of Christ. Though he was aware of his divinity, were his own people equally sharp?

 

He was fully aware he had a rendezvous to keep with his executioners. Thus, he had to know whether the twelve apostles had any inkling whom they were travelling with. The right answers to his probing would make his day. If one the other hand he came up empty, the score would be Satan 3 and Christ zero!  All his labours would have been wasted.

“Who do you say I am?”  Imagine then his elation and pleasure when Peter, acting as spokesman for the others (and us), told him he was “the Son of the living God.” Peter’s confession was a moment of genuine revelation that can have come only from God. We are not dealing simply with friendship or of admiration for a good and holy person, but here is transcendent divinity. Every disciple knew in his bones that the highest human terms were totally inadequate to categorise their Leader. 

 We can write books, give long talks till we drop dead, we can spend hours in prayer and study of God’s word till our brains dissolve, but it is only through God’s gracious revelation that we can truly know him.

And Jesus gave Peter a name, a new one. By God’s grace Peter will reinvent himself. The giving of a name in Hebrew tradition has enormous implications. In giving a name one then almost had a claim on that person: by naming them you somehow possessed them. Even today in our world, a person is a stranger, someone we guess about, until we get their name and can call them by name. The relationship changes for good once we can name them. We often ask in parish life: Who are they? And our next question is: Where do they live? Interesting that this is what some disciples ask the good Lord himself.

To each of us Jesus the Christ leans over and whispers, “But you, who you do say I am?”   

What does He mean to you?  Is Jesus the sum and substance of your life and mine, the significance of your being and the end of your existence? Jesus must forever be your own discovery. Our knowledge of him can never be something that stays locked in a closet.  It must be up front. Christianity does not mean memorising the Apostles’ Creed. Rather, it means knowing a PERSON as well as you know yourself. Governor Pontius Pilate asked Our Lord if He was in fact the King of the Jews. Jesus, though exhausted and barely able to stand, shot back a question: “Does this question come from you or have others told you about me?” (John 18,34).

When St. Paul was drafting his letter to Timothy, he did not write: “I know what I have trusted”; but rather, in his best handwriting he wrote that great line, “I know whom I have trusted” (2 Tim. 1,12). We must join to our belief the statement of Christ who says, “...whoever believes in me will do the works that I do....yes, he will do even greater ones” (John 14,12).

This is a line that most of us would want to disregard, because we want Jesus to carry the can and we ourselves will simply run alongside for the ride.  We want to play the spectator role; but that becomes none of us. Like Christ, we must move and shake the world in our time.

Prayer  (Kay Bullock):            You are you, Jesus, that you speak with such authority?  Not like scholars and teachers, simply repeating each other.  You speak the Word of God to us and all who will listen.  The Power of God living within you shines through everything you say.

Lord Jesus, help us to hear what you are saying, to understand what you are teaching, to know God’s power in our lives and in the words we speak of you.