In today’s Gospel lesson from Mark 8:27-38, Jesus warns his disciples that there is a cost to following him. What does it mean to take up your cross and follow? And what kind of a Messiah is this Jesus, anyway? Here’s my sermon for the second of Lent on February 28, 2021.
Helpful this week were Elle Dowd’s sermon on Jesus as enemy of the state on her site here as well as Debie Thomas’ essay here.
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen
The appointed Gospel for today starts at verse 31, with Jesus beginning to teach the disciples what’s going to happen to him, that he’s going to suffer and die and rise again. I’ve added a few preceding verses, because I think the setting is important.
Do you remember King Herod the Great, the king who’d been so threatened by the birth of the baby Jesus that he’d had a bunch of baby boys around Bethlehem killed?
That King Herod had given a region of land to his son Philip, who had built a city and named it in honor of the Roman Emperor Caesar Augustus: Ceasarea Philippi. Literally, it means “Philip’s Caesar.” That’s the region where Mark tells us Jesus and his disciples are.
Herod and Philip were both Jewish rulers, but instead of being faithful leaders of God’s people, they had thrown their lot in with the Romans. They’re collaborators, puppet kings.
In fact, when he built the city, Philip issued a coin with the emperor’s face on it to commemorate the occasion. That was horribly offensive to his Jewish subjects, but good for his job security with Rome.
And in this place symbolizing the Roman empire’s power, Jesus asks his disciples, “Who do people say that I am?”
And they answered him, “John the Baptist; and others, Elijah; and still others, one of the prophets.” He asked them, “But who do you say that I am?” Peter answered him, “You are the Messiah.”
Labeling Jesus as the Messiah is an amazing declaration of faith. Right there, in this monument to earthly power, Peter declares that Jesus is the one who has come to set the people of Israel free. For centuries, as Israel has been conquered by one superpower after another, dragged into exile and back again, prophets have looked forward to the Messiah coming. The Messiah is going to be a king anointed by God, who will break the empire’s power. And Peter’s convinced Jesus is the one. He’s the Messiah.
Just saying that out loud is dangerous. It’s an act of rebellion against the authorities. No wonder in verse 30, “Jesus sternly ordered [the disciples] not to tell anyone about him.”
There’s a need for secrecy, because again, this is an act of rebellion. Saying Jesus is the Messiah is threatening to those with power. Scholars call it the “Messianic secret” and the time isn’t right for Jesus’ identity to be fully revealed.
But the disciples know, and they’re excited. They’re ready to be part of the revolution, ready to see what God’s going to do through Jesus, the Messiah. They’re ready for God to rescue God’s people, to restore the nation. It’ll be glorious!
And then…Jesus does something different. He began to teach them that the Son of Man—Jesus’ favorite way of talking about himself—the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, and the chief priests, and the scribes.
That’s not quite what Peter and the others are picturing. The Messiah is supposed to unite the nation. He’s supposed to lead an army to fight back and kick out the Roman occupiers and take back the throne from the dynasty of Herodian collaborators, restore God’s people to glory.
But here’s Jesus saying he’s going to be killed, and after three days rise again. I’m actually not sure Peter even hears the “after three days rise again” part. This is Peter’s worst fear, something to be avoided at all costs.
It shouldn’t be surprising, because after all, death is the natural consequence of defying the most powerful empire on earth. There had been other so-called messiahs in very recent history who’d tried to lead a revolution and been arrested and killed. Empires and authorities don’t like being challenged.
Jesus is saying the same kind of thing Archbishop Oscar Romero said in El Salvador in 1980. He said, “If God accepts the sacrifice of my life, may my death be for the freedom of my people. A bishop will die, but the Church of God, which is the people, will never perish. I do not believe in death without resurrection. If they kill me, I will rise again in the people of El Salvador.”
Archbishop Romero was shot and killed while celebrating mass in his own church, assassinated for speaking out against the exploitation of the poor.
Or, in our own nation, Reverend Doctor Martin Luther King Jr., who said in a speech the night before he was assassinated: “Like anybody, I would like to live a long life – longevity has its place. But I’m not concerned about that now. I just want to do God’s will. And he’s allowed me to go up to the mountain.
And I’ve looked over and I’ve seen the Promised Land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the Promised Land.”
It’s not unusual for revolutionaries to predict their own deaths. Jesus knows what’s at stake. In fact, Jesus has a far deeper understanding of what’s at stake than his followers do.
And so, when Peter pulls Jesus aside and rebukes him, explaining that he can’t die, he can’t put himself in danger, he needs to be alive to fulfill his mission and do the Messiah thing, Jesus turns to his disciples, and rebukes Peter, saying “Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”
Jesus knows that what he’s doing will lead to his death. He’s challenging the authority of the worldly powers—it can’t help lead to death! He’s threatening the powerful, and giving good news to the poor and oppressed.
He’s healing people who shouldn’t be healed, offering forgiveness and grace to people who don’t deserve it. He’s disrupting the practices of the religious leaders.
He’s challenging the same authorities who arrested and executed his own cousin John the Baptist!
But, Jesus tells his disciples—and in fact, he calls the crowd together with his disciples to tell them too—there are more important things than earthly life.
Anyone who wants to join Jesus on his mission of proclaiming God’s kingdom—proclaiming freedom to the world, proclaiming good news, proclaiming God’s radical love—needs to deny themselves, take up their cross, and follow him.
Taking up the cross is not just a metaphor—it’s precisely what the Romans do to the people who resist the empire, to the criminals they want to make an example of. The Romans force resisters to pick up a cross and carry it to the place of execution, to carry the means of their death as part of the ritual of indignity, of dehumanizing them.
Jesus accepts the cost of what he’s doing, and what he’s asking his followers to do. But there, in Caesarea Philippi, Jesus teaches that earthly power is not ultimate.
You can gain the whole world—all the wealth of the world, all the power, prestige, monuments, everything this world has to offer—and what good does it do you if it comes at the cost of your soul, if you forfeit your life? What can you give in return for your life?
Peter is right: Jesus is the Messiah. He is God’s anointed savior, who has come to set God’s people free. But it’s not going to be on earthly terms. In earthly terms, Jesus’ mission will end in abysmal failure, because—as he knows, as he says—he is going to be arrested. He’s going to suffer. He’s going to die.
But that’s not going to be the end of the story. Jesus’ kingdom is not of this world, but it’s coming into this world, renewing it, breaking down the powers and dominions and empires of this world, because the worst this world can offer is death, and Jesus overcomes death.
The freedom Jesus wins is freedom from the oppression of this world, freedom from the quest for power and riches and glory, freedom to deny ourselves and follow, freedom not just for one nation, but for all who are willing to receive this free gift offered by God.
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.
This is not an easy teaching. It’s difficult for Jesus’ followers to hear about his suffering and death. It’s difficult for us to hear.
Perhaps that’s part of why we have this season of Lent. Lent calls us to pause and refocus, to direct our attention and our energy towards what truly matters. Give up the temporary things of this world that pull you from God, and turn towards your savior.
Return to the Lord your God. Lent is a space for you to set your mind on divine things, rather than on human things.
If any want to become Jesus’ followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow.
Amen