Courage! To Name Your Faith

September 17, 2006
Ralph DiBiasio-Snyder
Mark 8:28-37

Introduction to the Scripture

1995 was a great time to go to the Holy Land. When Carol and I were there, things were much more placid, comparatively, than they have been for a long time, certainly quieter than they are now. We traveled way up north, to the area of Caesarea Philippi where today's story from Mark takes place. It's the area of the Golan Heights, just a few miles from the Lebanese border - when we were there you could go down into a actual bunker used in previous wars, and peer out across the barren landscape into Lebanon.

This was as far north as Jesus went. He's a good two-days' journey north of the Galilee, where he did most of his ministry. It's up here, away from what was familiar, far, far away from that seat of power, Jerusalem, where Jesus will ultimately die, that he asks a searching, telling question of his closest friends. Who do you say that I am?

This little reading has four very short scenes. In the first Jesus asks that question, and gets his answer. In the second, he talks about the future - about his coming suffering. In scene three Peter decides to correct his teacher, and Jesus corrects him, in no uncertain terms. Peter, you see, had "a devil of an idea." [Interpretation: Mark, L. Williamson, page 153] And then in the last scene Jesus turns to the larger crowd and teaches about saving one's life, or losing it. He ends with another question for us:, What good is it for you to gain the whole world, yet lose your self, your soul?

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How good are you at taking tests? A lot of you are in school, and you're taking tests all the time. I bet they're not your favorite things. I remember that some teachers I had were known for their "pop quizzes" - surprise tests. No one seemed to like those! Did you hear about that study that came our recently that said homework is not very helpful for learning? I can imagine what you students think about that; I wonder what the teachers among us think? But what about all those tests? Do you think they help?

For many of us tests are far in the dim past - we have more to do with medical tests than school tests! But I wonder: how were you at taking tests? I was pretty good myself! I don't think it was that I was all that bright, so much as I knew how to take tests, and could memorize the necessary names or dates or formulas (is it formulae?) long enough for the test, anyway.

I read about a student in Madison who got a perfect score on the SAT! Can you imagine? That kid knows how to take tests! Now, "when I was a boy" we didn't do anything to prepare for the BIG tests like PSATs and SATs and ACTs. No sir! We just went in, and showed ?em what we had. Walk into the Barnes and Noble today and look for the section on "Testing" and you find a boatload of books, each one your ticket to a high score on the test of your choice. I read about one of them - The RocketReview Revolution: The Ultimate Guide to the New SAT ($29.95 new, or $2.48 used, at Amazon!) Listen to the ad for it:

As I say, we never used to have to prepare for such things. Anyway, my favorite kind of test was the multiple-choice kind. You could usually eliminate one, maybe two of the four. And if there was any hesitation between the remaining two, usually one looked better than the other . . . some faint connection that made the decision. In multiple-choice questions there was one right answer: a, b, c, or d. I liked that: one right answer. Gives you a good, solid feeling of something certain. We like certainties in life - we wish for certainties, even when we know, often, they may not be there. In politics, for example, we like simple, clear answers don't we? Don't bother us with complexities, with nuances, with "grey" areas . . . give us the answer, give us the answer we'd like to hear!

Many people long for certainties in their religion too, and will invent them when necessary. Plain and simple, either-or, black or white, is it God a,b, c, or d? . . . . as if faith were a matter of coming up with the "right answer," the "correct" answer.

The disciples were given a pop-quiz in the reading today weren't they? I can picture them meandering down the road that day, with Jesus, far away from their homes - little R and R up north there, taking in the sights. Were they by themselves, without Jesus, they probably would have been arguing again about just which of them was "the greatest" - who had the keenest religious insights, the deepest commitment to God; who was closest to the Teacher, Jesus, and who would sacrifice the most to follow him? Who had all the "right" answers? But this day Jesus was with them on the road, and they at least had the good sense not to debate greatness in his presence.

Suddenly, out of the blue, Jesus asks them a question. The first one was simple enough to answer; a "just wondering" kind of data-gathering question: "What are people saying about me? Who are they saying I am?"

"Oh," says Matthew, "Some say you're one of the prophets."

John pipes up, "Some say you're Elijah come back!"

Andrew, wanting to he's paying attention too says, "Others think you're John the Baptist returned from the dead!"

All intriguing answers; could be a good theological debate brewing here! But Jesus is not interested in debate. And I don't think he's really cares what "everyone" was saying about him. He wants to know what these his closest friends, with whom he has shared his life for many months . . . he wants to know who they think he. And so he says, "But now, how about you: who do you think I am?"

"You are the Christ," says Peter.

And he was right! The Teacher had asked a question, and the star student - or at least the loudest one - had answered it - and he nailed this one! One for one on the pop-quiz of the day! Peter was right!

Or was he right, really? He had the right word - the Christ, the Messiah. That's who the Gospel writer wants us to think Jesus is. And to this day Christians call him "Jesus, the Christ." So Peter had the right word; but as we see very quickly he had no idea what the right word meant. Peter's idea of the Christ was a triumphant general overthrowing the power of Rome; no suffering for this Christ. But Jesus' idea of the Christ was that of a suffering Christ, a humble Lord, and servant leader.

It is quite possible to have the right answer in word, but the wrong answer in spirit. The first thing I draw from this story is that faith is never merely words. Correctness of doctrine or theology - if Christians could ever agree what "correct" doctrine is - correctness of our words, creeds, may have nothing to do with godliness - graciousness - in living. There is great danger in reducing faith to a list of prescribed beliefs - mere words. We Christians have divided ourselves up quite nicely based on our words. Do you believe in the Trinity? Yes? You're in; No, you're out. Do you believe in the Real Presence of Christ in Communion? Yes? You're in; No, you're out. Do you believe in the resurrection? Yes? You're in; No, you're out. We use words to exclude - words often that we cannot even define!

But I know people- and I bet you do too - whose lives bear undeniably the mark of the Christ - people who love deeply and unconditionally, who live graciously and with mercy unending, who know profound joy, who serve their neighbor and minister to the poor, who live surely like Jesus calls us to live - often far better than I ; and these people don't have "the right" faith answers - they don't believe what we do. Some of them profess no faith whatsoever, and yet the spirit of God lives within them.

So what do you think God cares about - really - the most: the religious words we mouth, or how we live? Jesus tells us not to judge others. But if we do, he says, it had better be by the fruits of a person's life, rather than by any creed they profess, however lofty, or orthodox.

In this time when religion is such a dividing force in the world, where we label people and nations as "Christian," "Jewish," "Hindu," "Muslim," or whatever; in such a world where we go to war over religious differences, and the most horrendous acts are committed by people claiming that they have the right words, the right beliefs, the only right beliefs - I have in mind here Fundamentalists be they Christian or Jewish or Muslim - in such a world let us have courage to insist that the only faith worth having, be it our faith or Judaism, Islam or anything else, is a faith that engenders love and justice, truthfulness, mercy, and peace.

Faith is not just accepting a list of words - creeds - however old or lovely - as "true." Faith is living out of a heart grounded in love, whose source is God. Diana Eck in her book, Encountering God, says that the Latin word credo - the creeds of the church have always begun with the word "credo," I believe, means "I give my heart." For faith "is not about propositions, but about commitment. It does not mean that I intellectually subscribe to a list of statements but that I give my heart to this reality," that is, to God, to be transformed by God. [Diana Eck, Encountering God, p. 95]

Another thing I see in this story is the need to personalize one's faith, to dare to take a stand about faith, my faith, your faith. In faith it is not enough to just theorize, intellectualize, to dabble in debates about what "they" are saying about God. "Who do people say that I am? Ah, that's interesting, but what do you say; who do I say that Jesus is, to me and to how I live my life?"

I am very comfortable talking about religion; I am not so comfortable - and maybe you aren't either - talking about my faith, and what difference it makes to me, really. Peter didn't know what he was saying when he said, "You are the Christ." But at least he said it, and it took courage to say it. Being willing to say what one deeply feels - be it about God, or justice, or politics - clearly and calmly and graciously - is not the easiest thing in the world. Any act of standing out from the crowd of popular opinion is an act of courage.

I don't mean that we should "take a stand" on our faith in a way that belittles the faith of others. We tend to do that, you know. We tend to think that to commit ourselves to our faith, we must think that therefore all other faiths must be less true than ours, inferior to ours. But what the world needs these days is less religious pride, more humility; less mindless commitment to God, more mindful living in genuine love; a lot less of "my faith is better than yours," and a lot more "let us together seek to live as your God and mine commands us to live: by mercy, with the compassion found in every religion.

So: faith not merely words. Faith is daring to follow the Christ, to lose our life that we may really find it.

Faith is not just intellectual discussion, a theological debate however thoughtful and stimulating. For God must be embraced, invited in, made personal and therefore deeply meaningful. Who do you say I am? Jesus demands decision, and commitment - not to be used as a weapon against people of other belief, but because faith lived is faith found. "The language of faith is the language of love, not of judgment." [Eck, page 95]

And faith is always incomplete . . . growing . . . renewing . . . changing. Like Peter we use words we may not understand, and like Peter we may just be corrected by the Christ. But the point is not that we have all the answers, but that we are bold to act on what we do know and understand - committing ourselves to the things that make peace - making faith live within us, that we might make a difference in the world outside us.

So this week, keep answering that question - Who do you say I am? And this week take a chance at talking to someone else about your answer, however tentative, in a spirit of respect, ready to listen and to learn. And this week look for ways that the faith you dare to name for yourself can continue the transformation that faith has begun in you.