Thoughts and Crosses

Most of us who preach for a living are wise enough to know that 99% of what we say is going to go in one ear and out the other.

 

I can scarcely remember what I preach on from week to week; I can hardly expect you to! But 1% of what’s said, by the grace of God, will stick and make a difference.

 

Wouldn’t it be great if we could all just get to that bit! We could all go home at half eleven! The only problem, of course, is that I’m never sure which bit of the sermon is the 1%, and to be honest it’s probably a different 1% for each one of you!

 

But when something sticks, it sticks.

 

Four years ago when I was at the General Assembly and therefore more desperate than usual for some spiritual input, I listened to a couple of talks by an Irish poet and former priest, John O’Donohue. He’s a lovely lyrical writer and speaker, full of fun and stories but very perceptive and insightful as well.

 

And almost as a chance remark he said ‘here’s something you might like to do some work on sometime. Something that’ll get you thinking. What are the seven or eight thoughts that have shaped your life? Do you know what they are? And are they thoughts that it’s worth shaping your life around?”

 

Well, that was my 1% for that particular talk. What a great question. What are the thoughts that have shaped your life?

 

That came to mind earlier this week because of something Jesus says to Peter in today’s gospel reading. We all remember the ‘get thee behind me Satan’ bit. But then Jesus goes on to tell him why he’s to get behind him - ‘you’re an obstacle in my way, because these thoughts of yours don’t come from God, but from human nature.”

 

What thoughts, I wondered? What are the thoughts Peter’s having at this particular moment which make Jesus so angry?  

 

There’s a lot to preach on in this morning’s passage, but that’s the particular seam I want to mine with you today.

 

Matthew 16:21 brings a watershed in Jesus’ ministry. Up until now he’s been working and teaching among the crowds, but now that the disciples have begun to cotton on to who he is, he spends much more of his time alone with them. And for a while at least, he drops the parables and speaks plainly to them because he really needs them to understand what’s about to happen.

 

Matthew says - “From that time on Jesus began to say plainly to his disciples “I must go to Jerusalem and suffer much from the elders, the chief priests and the teachers of the Law. I will be put to death, but three days later I will be raised to life”.

 

This is what’s coming – he’s saying – Suffering and death at the hands of the religious establishment. But after that, at the hands of God, there will be life. Resurrection life.

 

But Peter doesn’t hear the bit about life. He’s so horrified at the prospect of Jesus’ death it’s as though he doesn’t even hear the rest of the sentence.

 

“God forbid it, Lord!” he says “That must never happen to you”.

 

“Get away from me, Satan.’ says Jesus.  You’re an obstacle in my way, because these thoughts of yours don’t come from God, but from human nature.”

 

It’s a  right slap in the face for Peter. He’s gone from being the rock on which the church will be built, to a rock that’s causing Jesus to stumble.

 

Why was Jesus so angry about this, do you think? Wasn’t Peter only trying to help? Wasn’t this him, admittedly in his usual ham-fisted way – trying to protect Jesus and keep him on track?

 

I’m sure that’s right, but I think the clue to Jesus’ anger is in how he responds to Peter. Get away from me Satan.

 

We’ve heard him say those words before. Do you remember where? In the Judean wilderness, where for 40 days at the start of his ministry, Jesus  was tempted by the devil. Tempted to do things any way but God’s way.

 

Use your power, play the political game, build your popularity, compromise here and there – make it easier on yourself!

 

Can you see how Peter’s words, quite unintentionally, are straight off the very same diabolical page? You don’t need to suffer and die – you’re the Messiah! God wouldn’t ask his son to go through all of that!

 

Get away from me, Satan, says Jesus. Those kind of thoughts don’t come from God, they come from human nature.

 

Jesus has spent literally years getting his head around the idea that his life’s trajectory is taking him towards confrontation and death. It’s taking all his courage and resolve to stick to that course. 

 

And here’s Peter, his closest friend, trying to talk him out of it. Small wonder he’s angry.

 

But what about Peter? What’s going on within him as he puts that presumptuous arm around Jesus and says “God forbid it, Lord. That must never happen to you”.

 

Well as I’ve reflected on that this week, it seemed to me that there are four different kinds of thoughts that contribute to Peter’s response here:

 

Thoughts that emanate from love, from fear, from faith and from unquestioned assumptions. Some of those thoughts are more blameworthy than others, but they’re all there, I think, and we’re going to look at each of them in turn.

 

Let’s start with love.

 

A friend tells you that in all probability she’s going to suffer and die. You’re gutted. You love her. You don’t want to lose her. It’s a struggle to contemplate life without her.

 

Love’s first thought is – ‘I don’t want this to happen to you’ and that’s a good, honest, compassionate human thought.

 

That’s what love does – it binds us together with the other so that we share their joys and their sorrows, their happiness and their suffering.

 

I laughed a while back when I heard someone define a vest as an item of underwear that a child wears when its mother feels cold.

That’s a good example of what I’m trying to say.

 

So when Peter says ‘Lord, this must never happen to you’, in part, this is love speaking. Love for his friend. And that’s not blameworthy – it’s commendable.

 

The danger comes when love oversteps the mark and tries to control what it can’t or shouldn’t control.

 

When that same mother who insists on a vest also insists that the child can’t go out and do the normal things that children do in case something terrible happens, her love begins to smother that child’s opportunities.

 

When a family, out of love for an elderly relative, angrily insist on resuscitation when a good, natural death might be a better option, is their love blinding them to hard realities that have to be faced?

 

Love holds and hopes and prays for the best; but when love starts to cling, it’s a sign that something’s out of balance.

There are some things that even love can’t or shouldn’t control, and a mature love has to make peace with that truth.

 

Is the arm round the shoulder Peter trying to take control here, when the truth is he has absolutely no control over this situation?

 

Are there things you’re trying to control, out of love, when the truth is you can’t control them? The best you can do is hold on and hope and pray, but not cling?

 

Some very human thoughts in Peters mind, emanating from love.

And maybe some coming from fear as well.

 

If love says ‘I don’t want this to happen to you’, fear asks ‘and what on earth is going to happen to me if it does happen?’

 

If Jesus chooses this path, what’s going to happen to the rest of them? They’ve given up home and family and livelihood to follow him. Could they ever go back again? They’ve made themselves a bad smell in the noses of the religious authorities. If Jesus stirs things up even more, are they going to end up suffering and dying along with him?

 

Once again, fear is a natural human response and there’s nothing intrinsically wrong with that. It’s what we do in response to our fears that makes the difference.

 

When folk are in hospital, they’re often fearful about the future.

Years ago I came across a verse in Philippians that speaks beautifully into that fear:

 

Don’t fret or worry. Shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns. Before you know it, a sense of God’s wholeness, everything coming together for good, will come and settle you down

 

What I love about that is that it recognises that by nature, we will worry. But rather than just turn those fears over and over in our imagination, Paul asks us to do something more life giving – he asks us to turn our worries into prayers.

 

When we act out of fear, we’ll fight, we’ll cling, or we’ll run. When we pray our fears, a whole new set of responses become possible because we start seeing things from God’s perspective and not ours. Fearful thoughts don’t bring life. Praying our fears does.

 

Peter needs to face up to the things that are frightening him: and so do we. If fearful thoughts are among those that are shaping your life, why not try turning the restless energy of that worry into prayer. You might be surprised at how things change.

 

What was in Peter’s mind when he took Jesus aside? Love, fear and thirdly faith. Questions of faith.

 

“God forbid it, Lord” Peter says. “That must never happen to you.” In other words, ‘surely God wouldn’t allow this to happen to you! You of all people!’

 

I wonder if he’s assuming that Jesus will be entitled to special protection from God because of who he is. Won’t God look after those who love him and keep them from harm. Isn’t that how God works?

 

Well, that’s a comforting notion, but I think it’s a wrong one. Even a quick scan of the Bible shows us that even the best and most faithful of us aren’t exempt from the dangers and burdens of living in a fallen world.

 

The blessing of the faithful isn’t that they avoid trouble in this world; but that they’re given the grace to cope with it. Faith gives us a wider perspective, an eternal perspective, against which to see the ups and downs of life.

 

I sat with a woman with a terminal illness last weekend, and she knows that her time is short. She’s got a very strong faith and is doing remarkably well within herself. But she tells me that her son, who’s not a believer, is angry at God for what’s happened.

 

One person accepts the painful reality that their expectations of life are going to have to change, and bears no rancour towards God because she believes this is not the end of her story. Another can’t come to terms with her diagnosis and finds himself veering towards anger.

 

This must never happen to you, Lord says Peter.

 

Why, Peter, we might ask? Because death means the end? Tell me, Peter – is death greater than God? Do you believe Jesus’ story will end this way? Have you still so little faith in the God whose power you’ve been witnessing every day since you started walking with Jesus?

 

We have a bigger hope than that. As Paul said to the church in Corinth – “If only for this life we have hope in Christ, we are to be pitied more than all men”.

 

Bad things can and do happen to God’s people. But in Christ, they never have the last word because our perspective, in him, is an eternal one. And that always leaves room for hope.

 

What was in Peter’s mind when he took Jesus aside? Love, fear, faith and then lastly a whole load of unquestioned assumptions.

 

This can’t happen because the Messiah isn’t meant to die a humiliating death at the hands of the religious authorities. That’s Peter’s basic thought. And we can’t blame him for having it, because that’s what everyone in his day would have believed.

 

The disciples, like everyone else, were waiting for a Messiah who’d be a religious revolutionary. Someone who’d march into Jerusalem, depose the religious leaders and proclaim himself king before driving the Romans out of the country once and for all. That was the Messianic blueprint.

 

The only thing was, it wasn’t God’s blueprint.

 

Never in a million years did anyone think that the Messiah would conquer the world through suffering and self-sacrifice. That’s why Peter’s so incredulous at Jesus’ words. Everyone knows that Messiah’s don’t die, so Jesus must be making some kind of mistake here.

 

But it’s Peter who’s making the mistake. He assumes he knows about Messiahship, but to the best of our knowledge it’s never been discussed. He’s never sat down with Jesus and said – ‘ok – now we know you’re the Messiah. But what does that actually mean’?  If he had done, he could have saved himself a whole lot of grief

 

Unquestioned assumptions.

 

I wonder how many difficulties and stresses in our lives; how many arguments and misunderstandings are brought on by wrong assumptions and expectations.

 

 

I see couples drift apart because their expectations in the relationship haven’t been met, but they find it almost impossible to talk about it without becoming accusatory. Things aren’t negotiated or brought into the light, and over time, resentment builds.

 

I see people struggling with the unreasonable demands of elderly parents; fathers wounded because their sons, and it usually is the sons, don’t want to continue in the family business. People burdened because life never seems to live up to their expectations. Others running themselves into the ground because others assume too much of them, or they expect too much of themselves.

 

Is that touching a nerve this morning? Are some of the thoughts that shape your life tied in with the whole issue of unquestioned assumptions about who you are and what you’re expected to do?

 

Is it time to take your courage in your hands and question some of those assumptions, if they’re not leading you to life?

 

 

 

We shouldn’t be too hard on Peter this morning, I think, because at the end of the day we’re all Peter. Our motives are always complex, and sometimes even we don’t understand why we do what we do.

 

We react to circumstances from the gut – from love, fear, faith and unquestioned assumptions. We can’t help it – it’s part of human nature.

 

But by the grace of God our human nature isn’t the last word about us if Christ lives in our hearts through faith. Following him, we can turn things around so the thoughts we live from aren’t just the gut-level human ones, but God inspired holy ones.