Sermon Sunday 30 August

Matthew 16:21-28

This week, the Christchurch terrorist was sentenced to life in prison without parole. In line with the wishes of the families of survivors, I will not say his name. But we are all aware that he is an Australian from the north coast of NSW, and that he held ultra-nationalist views, radicalised by the alt-right movement. This person became convinced that violent slaughter of innocent people was necessary for the advancement of white nationalism and the protection of white people. This is not a new or isolated concept. The conviction that peace and safety can be achieved through war and violence has infected humanity for as long as recorded history. Humans rationalise cruelty and murder with the misguided belief that some good will come of it. Whether it’s drone strikes on villages in Afghanistan or the removal of children from Noongar families – it’s astounding what vile actions humans can undertake in the pursuit of a purportedly lofty goal.

I was horrified this week to hear US Vice President Mike Pence, a conservative Christian who believes that the scriptures are the inspired word of God, harness the linguistic power of Hebrews chapter 12 in support of nationalist fervour:

 ‘So let’s run the race marked out for us. Let’s fix our eyes on Old Glory and all she represents. Let’s fix our eyes on this land of heroes and let their courage inspire. And let’s fix our eyes on the author and perfecter of our faith and our freedom and never forget that where the spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. That means freedom always wins.’

 By mangling scripture and fusing it with national symbols, Pence exemplified the core dysfunction of modern Christianity, in that it has been the uncritical bedfellow of nations and empires for too long. The Yanks didn’t start this, of course. Whether the Church of England, the Roman Catholic Church, or the many national Orthodox churches, Christianity has aligned itself with seats of national power for many centuries. But while many of us are trying to extricate ourselves from these sick power dynamics, political leaders around the globe are still trying to exploit religion and faith to advance their own power.

 Peace through conquest was the vision offered by the Roman Empire, and Jesus was a resister. We heard last week about how Jesus set himself and his movement against Emperor worship and human sacrifice and, by extension, against the military and economic might of the Empire. Peter identified Jesus as both the Jewish messiah and the challenger to Roman hegemony. Their little rally on the steps outside the Shrine of Pan was an act of public defiance, and afterwards in the narrative of Matthew’s gospel, Jesus is conducting a debrief, as you do.

Jesus explains to his team that he must experience great suffering, and that he must be handed over to the powers, and that he must in fact be executed and then rise on the third day. 

Now, those of us who know the story do not find this bit of prefiguring all that shocking. Most of us know the general gist of the Easter story before we ever get around the reading the whole gospel. The author of Matthew’s gospel knows this. This isn’t a big reveal for the readers, this is a big reveal for Peter and the team of disciples. So it helps to get inside the narrative and experience this revelation from Jesus as though we are one of the characters in the story.

You’ve left behind your family and business to join up with a wandering teacher. He’s inspirational! He’s teaching you to see the world differently, to understand yourself differently, and to understand God and your faith in an entirely new light. He does a few weird things, but you’re energised by the message and the journey you’re on. If you’re Peter, you are beginning to thing that you have some leadership potential and that this Jesus character offers some hope to you and your people. You’ve been fired up by his teaching about resistance to Rome and you’re imagining a future without the Empire – a better future for your people. But then Jesus starts banging on about how he will be killed like a criminal and killed and come back to life. This is not what you signed up for. You need Jesus alive if he is to be the inspirational leader you crave.

You try to remonstrate with Jesus, who insults you. ‘Get behind me, Satan’ he says – suggesting that you are in league with the Great Enemy, the Prince of the Air who holds sway over the world and advances evil. ‘You are a skandalon, a scandal, a stumbling block, setting your mind on earthly things and not heavenly things’

Then he goes on to say that everyone who follows him has to deny themselves, and take up their own cross. It is a far cry from the defiant resistance in Caesarea Philippi. This is a whole new pathway opening up.

Now, we need to recognise that the gospels are literature not journalism. No one was follow Jesus around with a notepad, keeping minutes. These interactions between Jesus and Peter are crafted to help this late first century church understand Jesus’ true nature.

Jesus is not about conquest through violence, he is not about peace at the end of a sword, nor about violent uprisings. He is certainly not about power wielded through wealth and exploitation. The true power that Jesus embodied and proclaimed is power manifested in weakness. Power through suffering. Power that neither fears death nor is defeated by death.

 If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it

The Lord Be With You