Romans 12:1-8 and Matthew 16:13-20 • Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost People say. • August 23, 2020 Arnolia United Methodist Church • Rev. James McSavaney In the Gospel reading for this morning Jesus asks a question of the disciples: “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?” They respond, “Some say John the Baptist, but others Elijah, and still others Jeremiah or one of the prophets.” That’s not a very hopeful list. Every last one of the people named haven’t been seen in Israel for a while. John the Baptist was beheaded. The prophets had each died. Jeremiah was stoned to death, according to tradition. And Elijah, he was swept up to heaven, taken in a whirlwind (2 Kings 2), never to be seen again. Each of these figures was a fervent believer in the power of God to protect and deliver the people of Israel from harm, from other empires, and from wrong-headed perspectives and approaches to the world. Each of these faithful followers of God inspired hope in the people around them. And, each of them, was nowhere to be seen now. How would you feel if you placed your hope in people, only to realize that they’re limited in what they can do, given to error, and are struggling to live, just as you are? How would you feel if those in whom you had hoped were now gone from you? How would you feel? Abandoned by God, unsure where to turn next, mired in uncertainty, guarded, jaded, bitter, despondent and despairing? Jesus asks the people who knew him well what they thought of him. And Peter answered, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God,” the true God, the real God – as opposed to the Roman pantheon, or the wooden and metal household idols, or the powers of the Roman State which enforced control over the people of God. Jesus is the Son of God, the one who resembles the Spirit of the Divine. He is the inheritor of God’s power and glory. He is the presence of God in the midst of creation. Jesus is the Messiah to Peter, the anointed one, the one he was hoping for, the one he prayed for. The people of God feel let down by God, who’s sent prophet after prophet, to reveal love and grace and help move things along for the people of God. But they are broken hearted, and they remain suspicious of Jesus, even after years of attempting to restore their ritual life with God, and the people who run the institution want to keep things under tight control. They want Jesus to leave. It’s only August, but looking ahead, as we approach Christ the King Sunday in November, we will take that day to proclaim boldly what God has commanded the Israelites since they were a wandering people: “You shall have no other gods before me (Exodus 20:3). On that day, we look for the world’s recognition of Jesus as someone to be welcomed and followed, if only to watch as the world’s view of Christ remains stubbornly hesitant, as people come to realize that Jesus brings with him not pleasant platitudes but unyielding demands. The tension between expectation and self-disclosure is all around us, and it means the difference between despair and hope. The people of God had given up hoping. But the presence of God was in their midst. All they had to do was have eyes to see it, to recognize it, to leap out in faith and identify it for what it was – God’s grace, incarnate. But they didn’t; they remained shut in, as it were, behind drawn curtains, which turn even the brightness of day into the dimness of night. They expected a true Son of David, a revolutionary to overthrow the Roman Empire and didn’t know that Jesus’ kingdom was not of this world. They wanted a king who could make them a great nation once more. Not a lot of people were ready for what Christ’s favor for the poor might mean for their priorities, or how Jesus’ love of God and God alone would affect the everyday lives of those seeking fulfillment in all the wrong places. And aren’t we the same? How often do we put words in Jesus’ mouth, and yet we don’t even know the heart of Jesus? We often get a lot of things wrong about God, hemming in the Divine on every side, until all we’ve done is carve an idol out of ideas – setting it atop an altar, and worshiping a sham. We each have a certain understanding of God, something that we assume is true even if we know better. Recall that God never gives a name to call upon when asked by Moses in the desert. It’s as if God responds to the leader of the Israelites, “You want to know my name? I will be what I will be, and your life will have to fit into the reality of who I am.” For those among us who want to know what God is going to do with us before we agree to take part in it, it would be helpful for us to keep in mind that God doesn't tell Abraham where he will go on his journey to the Promised Land. God will show Abraham the land once he has arrived and not a moment before. Abraham’s journey was one of faith, faith in a God who will not be hemmed in. God will not be named, as if we could comprehend the Divine. God will not be tamed. And neither should we neuter our imagination of what God will do next. Neither should we limit our imagination of what God will do next. Neither should we ignore our imagination about what God might do next. You and I, each of us, we all have a choice. Either we can open our imaginations to God’s movement in the world, and in our lives, and in our hearts. Or we can outright reject the Spirit of God. We can be willing to try something new, to take a step, and then another, trusting God, until we have finally arrived at the land where God will show us. Or we can stop along the way, we can tarry, or we can refuse to set out at all. That same choice stood before the people of God whose expectations were in tatters: “Is Jesus the Messiah, really? After so many failed uprisings, would we ever place our trust in this no-name, homeless wanderer from we know not where?” Is it any surprise that the world rejected Jesus? After seeing what the world has done to prophet after prophet, saint after saint, activist after activist, it is more than ever a confirmation that what each of these persons have called for truly was from God. May we be as hopeful as the protesters, as insightful as the disciples, as faithful as the saints, and as bold as the prophets. May our lives never fail to reflect the love of God, even as our expectations are forced to change, and we find ourselves, again, straining to listen for Jesus’ voice. May we recognize it when we come upon it, and may we follow it all of our days. Amen. .