Sermons

“Who Do You Say That I Am?”

James 3:1-12; Mark 8:27-38 – Rev. Rebecca Littlejohn

Vista La Mesa Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), La Mesa, California – September 13, 2015

Holy God, bless the speaking and the hearing of these words, that we might praise you with our voices and our lives. We pray in the name of Jesus, Amen.

It is wonderful to be back in worship with you today! After all the busy-ness of the summer, the intense relaxing, the outreach programs, the transitioning of some of our ministries, here we are on what is almost an old-fashioned “Rally Sunday.” Sunday school kicked off this morning, youth group is getting back in gear, and our worship service has been made fresh. It seems like a good time to remind ourselves why we do it all.

And so let’s take a moment to answer Jesus’ question: “Who do you say that I am?” It’s one of those questions that has layers and layers of responses. We could, perhaps, settle on “Jesus is the Christ, Son of the Living God, our Lord and Savior.” But we could also spend the rest of our lives figuring out what that means. (And I hope we will!) But before we get too deep into what our answers to this question are, I’d like to spend a little time thinking about how we answer this question. If there’s one word in that question – “Who do you say that I am?” – that we’re going to emphasize today, it’s “say”. “Who do you SAY that I am?” And given the recent tongue-lashing from James that Noralea read for us, I bet you can guess why.

I am a firm believer that our strengths and our weaknesses are mostly the same things, manifested differently in different contexts. Both of our scripture lessons this morning reflect on the power of our words, our tongues, our mouths. And they both seem more fixated on the negative than the positive, but they do both recognize that we can use our mouths to say good things as well as bad.

It seems clear that there must have been quite a bit of drama going on in James’ community when he wrote this letter, given his diatribe against all the destruction the tongue can cause. Too bad we can’t relate to that, eh! But even James, in one of his final metaphors, notes that a spring can’t pour forth fresh water and brackish water. Which ought to imply that he does know that sometimes we say helpful, life-giving, encouraging, loving things with our mouths. In fact, that metaphor almost implies he’d be less offended by our evil words if that was all there was. Sadly, we know that his metaphor is not particularly apt for our mouths. Perhaps a stream cannot give pure and tainted water at once, but we are entirely capable of being nice and then turning around and talking trash in the next breath.

Peter is a prime example of this, in the passage we just heard from Mark. Jesus asks who the disciples think he is, and without hesitation, Peter declares that Jesus is the Messiah. But moments later, when Jesus is explaining what that will mean, Peter is no longer seeking guidance; instead he takes it upon himself to rebuke Jesus for saying such things! Despite just admitting that Jesus is God’s chosen, anointed one, Peter is apparently now convinced that he knows better than Jesus what that’s all going to be about. Again, it’s really too bad this is so hard to relate to, isn’t it? But again, the brashness that gave Peter the courage to speak up and answer Jesus’ most important question is just the other side of the arrogance that then pushed him to correct Jesus’ interpretation of Messiahhood.

So, okay, we know that Jesus and Mark and James are all talking to us too; we know that our tongues are just as dangerous as Peter’s or anyone else’s. We know that we need to be careful when we answer Jesus, because we’re just as likely to turn around and do something foolish with our next breath. So admitting that we need to proceed carefully, let’s think about how we answer that question “Who do you say that I am?”

One of the most obvious ways we respond to this question is baptism. When someone comes forward to join the church and then to be baptized, we ask “Do you confess that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the Living God, and do you accept him as your Lord and Savior?” An affirmative answer is a pretty firm declaration about who Jesus is. The Christ, the Son of the Living God, Lord, Savior. While there is a lot of unpacking we could do with these words, they are strong words that lead in a definite direction. The question is whether what we declare at baptism is repeated with everything that happens afterward. A wise man once told me that stewardship isn’t just about how much we give to the church; it’s also about what we do with all the rest of our resources. This is also true for confessing our faith. It’s not just about what we say about Jesus on Sunday morning at church; it’s about what our lives the rest of the week say about Jesus as well. Are we even talking about Jesus the other six days?

One of the ways in which we are made in the likeness of God is that our words also make things real. What we say makes a difference, and what we choose to spend our time talking about matters. This morning, we inaugurated a new moment in our worship service, the sharing of a faith story. When we talk about our faith to one another, our faith grows. The one sharing the story gains a deeper understanding of their experience from having to put it into words. And those who hear gain a new perspective, perhaps a new way of looking at things, or permission to think about things differently. If we’re not sharing these stories, if instead we’re talking about that annoying person at work, or the latest gadget we picked up, or a tv show, what are we making more real? How are we confessing Christ as Lord? What we give our time to, our words and our stories, makes a difference, because that is what becomes real in our hearts. If we want our baptism declarations to be sustained, we need to repeat them in story form.

And then, of course, there are all the ways we answer Jesus’ question beyond anything we say or talk about. We answer this question with our lives every moment, every day. We may take a few minutes to declare Jesus Lord at church on Sunday, but if our lives tell another story, our witness is weak. The tongue may have great power, to start fires or guide lives, but even James knows actions speak louder than words. On the screen you can see a drawing of a person helping another person up from the ground. But the helper’s shadow is shown mocking the person who is down. There are a number of ways to interpret this. On the one hand, it’s a pretty astute illustration of hypocrisy. On the surface level, we would judge this person for helping while internally making fun of the person in need. We know this happens, because we experience it in our own hearts.

But there are other ways to look at this drawing as well. What if we thought through which direction the impact is going? The shadow side of this person is cruel, immature, laughing at someone else’s misfortune. But the outside, real-life side of this person is actually helping her. One could call that hypocrisy. But we could also call it a work-in-progress. The truth is that our actions shape our hearts. Imagine what comes next. The person helps the needy person out. He gets to know her; he hears her story. Chances are high that his shadow side is going to learn something and have a conversion experience in which the inner ugliness is transformed to match the outward kindness, even if it was superficially motivated to begin with.

Our lives are a constant cycle of our words and our actions. We declare Jesus as Lord through both, and our faith grows when the one is deepening the other. When we claim to be followers of a Messiah of sacrificial love with our words on Sunday, we must then follow that up with acts of sacrificial love on Monday and Thursday. Our words will die on the vine if they are not watered with actions of love and compassion and generosity. There are so many ways we can declare Jesus Lord, in our daily lives with our family, and in the decisions we make about our influence on the world around us. Will we choose the way of sharing and caring and listening, of weeping with those who weep and laughing with those who laugh? Will we live as though other people’s lives, other people’s children’s lives, are just as important as our own, as our Savior has taught us? Or will we deny Him by ignoring the plight of those in need, those fleeing for safety from war and violence, those struggling to make ends meet on our own street corners?

“Who do you say that I am?” Jesus asks us. And it’s not intended to be a question with a quick answer. Our response is our whole life. It’s not simply with our words, what we say, but just as crucially with what we refrain from saying. It’s not just what we say about Jesus, but how we demonstrate that we’ve heard what he said about us. Do we live as beloved creatures of God? Do we live as forgiven children of God? Do act as fully-incorporated members of the Body of Christ? Do we behave as ambassadors of God’s grace and compassion? Who do we say that Jesus is? With our words and our worship, our tithes and our tributes, our laughter, our love and our lives? Let us proclaim a risen Savior, whose sacrificial love shows us a path where life overcomes death, where weakness is made perfection by the creative compassion of God, where the water is life-giving and pure, and the gospel is written with our lives. Alleluia and Amen!