Jesus went on with his disciples to the villages of Caesarea Philippi; and on the way he asked 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.’ And he sternly ordered them not to tell anyone about him. Then he began to teach them that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again. He said all this quite openly. … He called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them, ‘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, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it.
(Mark 8:27-32,34-35)
From this Sunday’s reading from Mark’s Gospel, in which Jesus asks his disciples two questions: who do people say that I am, and who do you say that I am? The disciples mention John the Baptist, Elijah, or one of the prophets, and there’s a lot in Jesus’ ministry that’s echoed what those people had done and how they were remembered: calls to repentance, healings, meals served in the wilderness. And then Peter blurts out an answer (such a Peter thing to do!): “You are the Messiah, the Christ,” he says. Jesus orders them to keep this to themselves, likely because Peter’s got the title right, but the meaning wrong. It’s not a political, powerful kingly Messiah, but a suffering, dying, rejected one instead. Jesus had to help them get the meaning right before the title could be used.
And then there’s “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” Jesus is inviting them – as he invites everyone – into a relationship. And before anyone can say “yes,” they have to understand what that relationship will mean – like those “informed consent” forms they make us sign in the hospital before we have an operation.
What could following Jesus look like? First, what it’s not: Jesus isn’t calling us to become doormats for other people to wipe their feet on. It’s not about giving up chocolate biscuits, or letting ourselves be bullied. Denying ourselves is about acknowledging that God is important enough to us that it’s not our will but God’s that determines what we do with our lives. We’re being asked to give up control – to stop trying to run things our own way all the time, and instead deciding to let God run things. Dropping our self-centred concerns and being prepared to do what God wants us to do. After all, that’s what Jesus did: taking the steps God’s love was wanting him to take on our behalf.
Jesus carried a cross, and he calls those who want to follow him to pick up their cross as well. What does this mean? Again, let’s remember what it’s not: the cross we’re called to carry is not the burdens life imposes from the outside, the suffering that’s simply part of life in a world that’s broken. It’s not a difficult family situation, a burden of debt, frustrated hopes and desires, or any sort of disability or disappointment. And a cross isn’t a random form of suffering. In Jesus’ day it was the punishment those in power imposed on rebels or troublemakers who dared to confront them. A cross is what can happen when you challenge the status quo on behalf of others. It’s the risk run by anyone who faces up to helping those who need help, doing what’s right, speaking truth even when it’s unpopular. The sort of things Jesus did.
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