The three synoptic Gospels refer to the episode of Jesus when, in Caesarea Philippi he asked his apostles what people thought of him. The common fact in the three Gospels is Peter’s response: “You are the Christ.” Matthew adds: “the Son of the living God” (Matthew 16:16) which could, however, be a manifestation due to the faith of the Church after Easter.
“You are the Christ.”
Mark 8:27-35
Today’s Gospel passage presents us with the so-called confession of Peter at Caesarea Philippi, an episode also recounted by St. Matthew and St. Luke. The Gospel of St. Mark, written primarily with catechumens in mind, revolves around the central theme of the identity of Jesus. One question runs through it from beginning to end: “Who is this man?” (Mk 4:41). The title St. Mark gave his Gospel was: “The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God” (1:1). With today’s passage, we have reached the central point of the journey proposed by his Gospel: “You are the Christ!” This confession of faith in Jesus’ messianic nature marks the first great milestone and signals a turning point towards the second stage: the recognition of His divine sonship, which will occur at the cross: “Truly this man was the Son of God!” (15:39).
“You are the Christ!” While the crowds perceive Jesus as a special figure but interpret him through past categories (John the Baptist, Elijah, or one of the prophets), Peter sees in Jesus the Messiah, the one Israel had been awaiting for centuries, foretold by the prophets. A figure, therefore, who comes “from the future,” as a promise of God, projecting into the future as the hope of Israel.
The Hebrew word Mashiah or Messiah, translated as “Christ” in Greek, means “Anointed.” Kings, prophets, and priests were anointed (with fragrant oil) at the time of their election. Over time, the Messiah, the Christ, the Anointed One par excellence, came to be seen as the eschatological liberator awaited by the people of God, considered by some to be of priestly lineage, by others of royal lineage.
Jesus was the Messiah, the Christ. He acknowledges this himself during his interrogation before the Sanhedrin: “Are you the Christ, the Son of the Blessed?” Jesus replied, “I am!” (Mk 14:60-61), causing the high priest’s scandal. So why did Jesus impose silence on the apostles, “sternly ordering them not to tell anyone about him”? Because that title was laden with earthly expectations and ambiguities. Israel expected a terrestrial and glorious Messiah, while Jesus would be a defeated and humiliated Messiah. Only after his passion and death, when it became clear what kind of messianism was his—that of the “Servant of Yahweh” of the first reading—did the title “Christ” become his second name. We find it more than 500 times in the New Testament, almost always as a compound name: Jesus Christ, or Our Lord Jesus Christ.
Jesus “began to teach them that the Son of Man must suffer greatly… and he spoke this openly.” “Began”: this marks a new beginning! Every milestone reached becomes a new starting point because God is always beyond. The new stage is that of the cross, a word that appears here in Mark for the first time. Here Peter, proud of having won the previous stage, immediately stumbles, indeed becomes a stumbling stone himself (Mt 16:23).
This new beginning corresponds to a new vocation, addressed to both the disciples and the crowd: “Calling the crowd with his disciples, he said to them: ‘If anyone wishes to come after me, let him deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me.’” This new stage is not for mere sympathizers or amateurs. The road becomes arduous. It involves carrying the cross (every day, says Luke), that is, accepting one’s own reality without dreaming of another, and following Jesus. The stakes are high: to gain or lose one’s life, the true one!
Points for Reflection
“But who do you say that I am?” This question challenges the disciples of Jesus of all times and demands from us a personal, conscious, and existential response. We know well the opinion of the people. For many, Jesus of Nazareth is a special figure of history, a man of God, a dreamer or a revolutionary. For the majority, however, he is a figure of the past who has had his time. “But for you, who am I?” The adversative conjunction “but” preceding the question will always set us apart from the common opinion. The disciple of Jesus distinguishes himself from the anonymous crowd by a profession of faith in Jesus of Nazareth as the Messiah, the Christ, anointed and sent to bring liberation to the world (Luke 4:18-21).
For the Christian, Christ is the key to history and the meaning of life. “I am the Alpha and the Omega, the One who is, who was, and who is to come, the Almighty,” “the First and the Last, the Living One,” “the Beginning and the End” (Revelation 1:8; 1:17-18; 21:6; 22:13). Without His “I Am,” I am not. As Hilary of Poitiers (+367) prayed: “Before knowing you, I did not exist, I was unhappy, the meaning of life was unknown to me, and in my ignorance, my deep being eluded me. Through your mercy, I began to exist.”
Confessing that Jesus is the Christ implies being ready to endure his same destiny. Our time will increasingly be a time of martyrs, of witnesses. It will not be a glorious and heroic martyrdom, but humble and hidden. The Christian is one who welcomes and keeps “the testimony of Jesus” (Revelation 1:2, 9; 12:17; 19:10; 20:4), the “faithful Witness” (1:5; 3:14) to communicate it to humanity: “God so loved the world that he gave his only Son” (John 3:16).
Fr. Manuel João Pereira Correia, mccj
Who Do You Say That I Am?
Mark 8: 27-35
Fr. Raniero Cantalamessa
The three synoptic Gospels refer to the episode of Jesus when, in Caesarea Philippi he asked his apostles what people thought of him. The common fact in the three Gospels is Peter’s response: “You are the Christ.”
Matthew adds: “the Son of the living God” (Matthew 16:16) which could, however, be a manifestation due to the faith of the Church after Easter.
Soon the title “Christ” became Jesus’ second name. It is mentioned more than 500 times in the New Testament, almost always in the composite form “Jesus Christ” or “Our Lord Jesus Christ.”
However, it was not so in the beginning. Between Jesus and Christ a verb was understood: “Jesus is the Christ.” To say “Christ” was not to call Jesus by his name, but to make an affirmation about him.
Christ, we know, is the Greek translation of the Hebrew Mashiah, or Messiah, and both mean “anointed.” The term derives from the fact that in the Old Testament kings, prophets and priests, at the moment of their election, were consecrated through an anointing with perfumed oil.
But increasingly in the Bible there clearly is talk of a special anointed or consecrated one who will come in the end times to fulfill God’s promises of salvation to his people. It is the so-called biblical messianism, which takes on different hues according to how the Messiah is seen as a future king (royal messianism) or as Daniel’s son of man (apocalyptic messianism).
The whole primitive tradition of the Church is unanimous in proclaiming that Jesus of Nazareth is the awaited Messiah. He himself, according to Mark, will proclaim himself such before the Sanhedrin. To the question of the High Priest: “Are you the Christ, the Son of the Blessed?” He replies: “I am” (Mark 14:61 ff.).
So much more disconcerting, therefore, is the continuation of Jesus’ dialogue with the disciples in Caesarea Philippi: “And he commanded them energetically not to speak about him to any one.”
However, the motive is clear. Jesus accepts being identified with the awaited Messiah, but not with the idea that Judaism had made for itself of the Messiah. In the prevailing opinion, the Messiah was seen as a political and military leader who would liberate Israel from pagan dominion and establish the kingdom of God on earth by force.
Jesus had to profoundly correct this idea, shared by his own apostles, before allowing them to talk of him as the Messiah. To this end is oriented the discourse that follows immediately: “And he began to teach them that the Son of Man must suffer many things.”
The harsh word addressed to Peter, which seeks to dissuade him from such thoughts: “Get behind me, Satan!” is identical with that addressed to the tempter of the desert.
In both cases, in fact, it is about the same attempt to deflect him from the path that the Father has indicated to him — that of the suffering servant of Yahweh — to another which is “according to men, not according to God.”
Salvation will come from the sacrifice of himself, from “giving his life in ransom for many,” not from the elimination of the enemy. In this way, from a temporal salvation one passes to an eternal salvation, from a particular salvation — destined for only one people — one passes to a universal salvation.
Regrettably we must state that Peter’s error has been repeated in history. Also certain men of the Church, and even Successors of Peter, have behaved at certain times as if the Kingdom of God was of this world and should be affirmed with the victory (if necessary also with arms) over enemies, instead of doing so with suffering and martyrdom.
All the words of the Gospel are timely, but the dialogue of Caesarea Philippi is so in an altogether special way. The situation has not changed. Also today, people have very diverse opinions on Jesus: a prophet, a great teacher, a great personality. It has become fashionable to present Jesus in shows and novels, in customs and in the strangest messages. The “Da Vinci Code” is only the latest in a long series.
In the Gospel, Jesus does not seem to be surprised by people’s opinions, nor does he take time to deny them. He only poses a question to his disciples, and he does so also today: “For you, who am I for you?”
A leap must be taken that does not come from the flesh or from blood, but is a gift of God which must be accepted through the docility of an interior light from which faith is born. Every day there are men and women who take this leap.
Sometimes it is famous people — actors, actresses, men of culture — and then they make news. But infinitely more numerous are the unknown believers. At times nonbelievers interpret these conversions as weakness, sentimental crises or a search for popularity, and it might be that in some cases it is so. But it would be a lack of respect of the conscience of the rest to cast discredit on every story of conversion.
One thing is certain: Those who have taken this leap will not go back for anything in the world, and more than that, they are surprised to have been able to live for so long without the light and strength that comes from faith in Christ.
Like St. Hillary of Poitiers, who converted when he was an adult, they are willing to exclaim: “Before knowing you, I did not exist.”
Translated by Zenit