Get Behind me Satan

In last week’s gospel reading Peter was the hero of the story declaring “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” It’s critical to remember this from last week because within a very short space of time, Peter goes from hero to zero, as it were, almost in the blink of an eye. Jesus, you’re the Messiah, so there’s no way you’re going to end up in Jerusalem to suffer and die at the hands of the chief priests and elders. This simply cannot and will not happen. I can just see Peter as so many youtubers might depict him now, whipping out a sword, gun, or missile to pledge allegiance to Jesus and his mission to reconcile the world to him. And so it comes as a shock to hear Jesus respond to Peter, and so to each of us who would advocate for or enact Peter’s tactics to bring about our desired outcome: “Get behind me Satan.”

So what happened? How did Peter go from the rock on which Christ would build his church, to a “stumbling block” standing in the way of all that Jesus came to do? First, some context for you. This week’s Gospel reading marks a clear transition by Jesus as he turns away from Gentile territory & starts his journey toward Jerusalem & his eventual crucifixion.

From that time on [after Peter confessed that Jesus was the Messiah], Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem & undergo great suffering at the hands of the elders & chief priests and scribes & be killed, & on the third day be raised.

The words “From that time on,” signals a shift in the narrative as Jesus focuses on preparing his disciples for his impending death, rather than on teaching & healing the crowds. Peter knew some of the truth, but not the whole truth. Peter now knows Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of the living God, but he doesn’t yet realize the full scope of what being a disciple entails.

In our day & age, we have the luxury of knowing what happened to Jesus & that his mission would not be fulfilled until he bore the commandments to love God, neighbour and enemy, all the way to his own execution. And that his obedience to God’s commands - in spite of his fear, the unfairness, cruelty, and horror of his condemnation and death - destroyed the consequences of our separation from our creator and sustainer so that he, the first fruits, might obtain life for anyone who desires it. 

Peter doesn’t know this yet. The disciples do not either. They see a world that looks just like ours: people vying for power and control in a world that seems as if no one has their hand on the lever; out of control, tumbling into confusion, chaos and violence. The disciples see what the Israelites saw in their day; and they see what we see in ours; and we see what they saw in theirs. All the situations and events and schemes go round and round a precipice, like a wheel constantly turning around the same axel, progressing only if one looks at short stints of history. This is the reality that Jesus surveys from the Cross: My God, my God why hast thou forsaken me Jesus cries out in the name of every human being caught up in the same repeated sins again and again and again.

This is why Jesus reacted so vehemently, calling Peter ‘Satan’ when he tried to convince Jesus not to go to Jerusalem. Jesus knew he was going to have to suffer, die to his own will, his own capacity to exercise whatever power or punishment he could dole out to any human being; die in the flesh; in order to win life for those whom he made.

It isn’t surprising that Jesus was killed. From the moment of his birth, he is such a threat to the rule of force & violence, of retribution, of coercion, of force and domination, of false presumptions and judgement, of arrogance, pride and envy masquerading as confidence, that Herod is willing to slaughter all children under the age of two in the hope of destroying him.

No, it’s no surprise that Jesus was killed. He didn’t play by the religious, political or social rulebook. He sought relationships and enacted mercy when the rulebook called for rigid black and white consequences, judgment, punishment and control. He challenged those who thought they knew the rulebook. He challenged their presumption and pride, under which usually lays unconscious fears festering in straight up ignorance. So it is no surprise Jesus was killed. 

What’s surprising is that God raised Jesus from the dead. This is the greatest miracle for it is the ground of all of reality; it is the ground of all of creation; and so it is the ground of all hope, all love, and all life. Resurrection reinforces – indeed, establishes – that Jesus’ life, love, & sacrifice are ultimately what will prevail. 

Yet like Peter, like the Israelites before him, what we most often want is a little more of what the world already offers – be it force or security or wealth or status or popularity or whatever will shelter us from a world that we cannot categorize, predict, or control. But Jesus didn’t come to comfort us with a little more of what we see before us; but instead He came to free us from believing that this world, as it is right now, is all there is. And freedom first means recognizing and confessing that we’ve settled for something that isn’t life giving; just more of the same.

Only in recognizing and confessing this can we turn to God’s revelation of himself in Scripture so that we can spot him in our own lives and the lives of others; knitting together the parts, the pieces he has created into his full creation. Only when we confess our blindness and our arrogance, only when we set down our expectations that God will conform to our ways; only when we open our hearts and minds to God’s Word, reading it, hearing it, allowing it to reshape how we think and respond in every aspect of our lives with ourselves and with others, will we allow ourselves to be caught up in God’s promise of a different life; a promise that means something only after what we’d previously accepted as life dies.

“If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves & take up their cross & follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, & those who lose their life for my sake will find it.” There is no other way. If we want to save our life, we must lose what we now cling to and open ourselves to Christ. Or, as Dietrich Bonhoeffer put so simply, & powerfully: “When Christ calls us, he bids us come & die.” The gospel is an invitation to death before it bestows new life. Amen