Because Christ was first. . .

Dominican Martyrs: Haggai 2.1-9 and Luke 9.18-22
Fr. Philip N. Powell, OP
St Albert the Great Priory & Church of the Incarnation

The disciples could have said anything. Anything at all, really. They could have said, “You are a king come to save us from the political oppression of the Roman pigs.” Or, “You are this age’s particular, historical enfleshment of divine-human healing; a cosmic sign in flesh and blood, portending the eschatological consummation of the community of the divine.” Or, more simply, “You are John the Baptist, Elijah, or some other ancient prophet.” They could have said most anything. But what do they say when Jesus asks them, “…who do you say that I am?” Peter answers, “The Christ of God.” And Jesus smiles and congratulates his student. The other disciples whoop-it-up in celebration that the secret is known, and Jesus, finally relieved of the burden of his identity, relaxes and prepares for a kinder, gentler ministry among The Knowing. Yea, not quite. Jesus rebukes them and orders them not to tell anyone what they know. Then, having mastered the art of cold water surprises to the face, Jesus Buzzkill predicts his passion, death, and resurrection. Party over with. Again, not quite.

Notice that the Crowds say that Jesus is just some ancient prophet risen again. And, despite the fact that Jesus asks all of the disciples the question at hand—who do you say that I am?—it is Peter alone who answers, “The Christ of God.” But for this correct answer Jesus rebukes them all and silences them! Why? At the exact point where his less than brilliant students finally get that he is who he says he is—the Messiah, the Christ—Jesus not only orders them to silence but chastises them for knowing the truth. Again, why?

Jesus knows that the Party is long from over. In fact, he knows how the whole thing ends and says so: betrayal, arrest, trial, rejection by the chief priests, execution, and resurrection—third-day-dead. He knows all of this. And he knows that Peter, the one with all the correct answers, will deny him over and over and over again. And he knows that he will go to his execution alone. That he must go alone—without his friends, without his fans, without his family. No crowding followers. No mobs of zealous converts trying to rescue him. No bloody riots in his name. Just a shameful death on a cross. The Christ of God dying—beaten and abandoned—on a cross.

Why couldn’t that be John on that cross, or Elijah, or Peter himself? Why didn’t the Romans and temple authorities arrest Jesus’ students and hang them up as well? His family? Why didn’t the whole lot of them meet their gruesome end as theological subversives, or liberating guerillas fighting against Rome? Why was it Christ alone that died on that cross? Jesus asks his students, “Who do you say that I am?” Peter answers, “The Christ of God.” Jesus rebuked them and ordered them not to tell no one. And no one knew that Peter knew. And no one knew that the Jesus’ disciples knew. No one knew. And Jesus knew that no one would know until he rose again and came again in a roaring wind with fire and then, and then, everybody to eyes to see and ears to hear was gonna know: Jesus is the Christ of God!

Jesus is the Christ of God. He is the only one who could die on the cross for us. We cannot say that Jesus is only one Christ among many. Though we can say that we are all Christs in the world because he was Christ first. We cannot say that Jesus is one incarnation of divinity among many. Though we can say that we are all being perfected in divinity because the Son became flesh first. We cannot say that Jesus is just one man among many, dead on a cross, and risen again for our eternal lives. Though we can say that we have all died with him, and we will rise with him because he died for us and rose for us first.

The crowds still say that he is a prophet, a teacher, an avatar, a buddha of sorts. Peter says, even now, and we say with him still, “Jesus is the Christ of God!”