Twenty Second Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A
Those who know me well would have heard me sing a parody of that famous song immortalised by Josh Groban, “You raised me up.” In my twisted version, the first line goes like this: “You raised me up and then you slammed me down.” This sounds much like what the Lord does to St Peter in today’s Gospel. Last week, our Lord gave Simon a new name, Peter, the Rock, on which He promised to build His new temple, the Church, and which will stand as a lasting and formidable bastion against the gates of the underworld. No greater honour could be paid to any of the apostles. That was his high point!
But this week, our Lord drastically changes His tune and utters one of the meanest put-downs and aims it like a knife at Peter. Peter’s fortune is reversed - in last week’s passage, he was raised up to the highest heavens and in this week’s episode he is cast down from the heights like Satan. St Peter is now the agent of Satan, the stumbling block to those who might come to profess the same faith. This unexpected transformation from building block to stumbling block, from an instrument to an obstacle, from a lieutenant of Christ to an adversary, comes quickly – so quickly, in fact, that the two passages occur back to back in one continuous narrative.
What brought about this reversal of fortune for Peter? Having been identified as the Messiah, the Lord in today’s passage begins to spell out how He is planning to accomplish His work of salvation. The nature of His mission would entail suffering, rejection and death. It was clear to the apostles that Jesus was the Messiah. The notion that He was the suffering Messiah was much harder to digest. It required frequent repetition from the Lord to make real to their minds the thought that He had to suffer and be killed. It is no wonder that St Peter, who had just confessed that our Lord was the long-awaited Messiah, now pleads with Him to cease His madness, “Heaven preserve you, Lord,” or “God forbids!” “This must not happen to you.” The disciple who is meant to listen to the Master, now seeks to command the Teacher. St Peter found the cross offensive because he could not bear the thought that the Messiah, from whom he expected national deliverance, should be killed.
What Peter failed to realise is that the death of Christ was necessary, as the text tells us that “He was destined to go to Jerusalem.” The words “destined to go” imply a constraint, an imperative, a divine necessity. His death had been planned and willed by God through all eternity. The prophets had predicted it and He must fulfil it. Pope Saint Paul VI wrote: “In a mysterious way, Christ Himself accepts death... on the Cross, in order to eradicate from man's heart the sins of self-sufficiency and to manifest to the Father a complete filial obedience” (Apostolic Exhortation Gaudete in Domino, 9 May 1975). By willingly accepting death, the Lord carries the cross of all human beings and becomes a source of salvation for the whole of humanity. Peter couldn’t quite get it. None of the disciples could at this stage.
Our Lord’s reaction to Peter’s attempt to give Him guidance was as sharp as it was instantaneous: He turned and said to Peter, “Get behind me, Satan! You are an obstacle in my path, because the way you think is not God’s way but man’s!” The Lord notes that unlike last week’s passage, where our Lord affirms that Peter’s confession of faith was revealed by the Father, the source of this week’s statement was from Peter himself. What’s worse, is that this human opinion was being used by the devil to tempt the Lord to turn His back on the cross, to choose safety and honour, over suffering and sacrifice. This was the nature of the three temptations which Satan used on our Lord in the wilderness before He began His public ministry. Satan had returned to tempt our Lord in the person of Peter. Of course, our Lord will have none of it because He knew that glory comes only after sacrifice. As one of my seminary formators once told a group of us, “If you are not on the Way, you are in the way!”
This dramatic exchange between our Lord and Peter would have been accentuated by the stunning backdrop. The town is Caesarea Philippi, a town built and named by an heir of Herod the Great in honour of Great Caesar and yet Philip the Tetrarch arrogantly attaches his name to the title - Caesarea Philippi - Philip’s City of Caesar. The vassal seeks to rule his liege. The arrogance of Philip, a minor ruler, is pretty rich. Similarly, Peter in remonstrating with the Lord, seeks to lord over Him. Instead of renouncing himself and follow the Lord’s lead, Simon Peter seeks to have the Lord follow his instructions and lead.
If you find this parallel coincidental, consider now the geographical location. Caesarea Philippi is in the foothills of Mount Hermon, in a region currently known as the Golan Heights, previously Syrian and then occupied and annexed by Israel after a series of wars. But what was most imposing about this region and city is the enormous rocky outcrop on which the city is built. At the foot of this rock was a natural spring which was considered to be a sacred shrine dedicated to the god Pan, who had the appearance of a satyr - a half goat and half man creature - almost demon-like. So, the words of our Lord spoken here take on another level of meaning when one has a view of the surroundings where He spoke. The rock on which He would build His Church would no longer be this geological rocky formation but a man, a seemingly weak one at that - Simon Peter; and when He subsequently called out Simon Peter as “Satan,” our Lord would not have been referring to the demon-like pagan god Pan, but the very same man whom He had named “rock” just a few minutes earlier.
The passage ends with our Lord spelling out what a disciple of His must do. The fate of the Master must now be the fate of the disciple, for this is what it means to “follow” Christ. “If anyone wants to be a follower of mine, let him renounce himself and take up his cross and follow me.” You see, the cross was not only for Jesus. It is ours too. The cross of Christ means your death and my death.
In the midst of the many voices clamouring for our time, our money, our allegiance and our attention, we are called to choose the cross, we are called to choose Christ, to the complete dispossession of all else. In His call to authentic discipleship, Christ challenges our most precious loyalties. As there can be no other gods before the God of Israel, there can be no other loves before Christ. The life you long for, the changes you want, come only through the cross — no other way! If you will live at the cross, the cross will take care of the rest. This is a great challenge for each of us.
The Cure D’Ars, St John Vianney, leaves us with this wonderful wisdom: “On the Way of the Cross, you see, my children, only the first step is painful. Our greatest cross is the fear of crosses. . . We have not the courage to carry our cross, and we are very much mistaken; for, whatever we do, the cross holds us tight - we cannot escape from it. What, then, have we to lose? Why not love our crosses, and make use of them to take us to heaven?”
The fear, whether real or otherwise, of taking the first step is what I believe prevents many from taking that all important action. Courage backed by faith is difficult to muster at times.
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