The Broken Snare

“But what about you?” He asked. “Who do you say I am?” [Matthew 16:15]

When the Roman authorities forcefully put down the abortive Jewish revolt against Rome in 70 A.D., they leveled Jerusalem, and destroyed the Temple. Some reports even say the Romans sowed salt in the ground so as to prevent crops from being subsequently grown. Having rid themselves of the Jewish menace, or so they thought, the Romans went to a special place to celebrate: Caesarea Philippi — the seat of Roman power in the area, the spot where the temple to the pagan god, Pan, has been constructed, the place that represented all the trappings and powers of secular society.

Matthew, who writes his gospel sometime during this same time period — most scholars say it was “penned” between 70 A.D. – 90 A.D. — is careful to remind his first century readers/listeners (and, therefore, us, as well) that 35 years or so before the Temple’s destruction, one of the most important encounters between Jesus and his disciples occurred at the same secular location, north of Jerusalem — at Caesarea Philippi.

In this week’s Gospel reading [Matthew 16:13-20, the twelfth Sunday after Pentecost, Year A], Matthew relates how Jesus proffered His small band of followers two salient questions [similar stories are found both in Mark and in Luke] to test where they were in their journey toward understanding the Kingdom.

By the middle of Matthew’s gospel, we’ve all come to understand that Jesus doesn’t do Powerpoint®; he speaks in parables and riddles. He paints these vivid, sometimes funny, word pictures: of those who would strain out a gnat, but swallow a camel [Matthew 23:24], of it being easier to push a camel through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of God [Matthew 19:24], of a man leaving 99 sheep on the hills in order that he might look for one that had wandered off [Matthew 18:13]. And yet, at the regional capital of Caesarea Philippi, at a place we might nickname “Paganville,” Jesus offers no parables, no riddles, no ethereal musings; instead He has two questions.

Referring to himself in the third person, he initially asks, “Who do people say the Son of Man is?” [16:13]. They reply, “Well, some say you’re John the Baptist; others say Elijah; and still others, Jeremiah or one of the prophets.” It’s interesting, isn’t it, that all the persons named are dead.

Then, the other shoe drops, for Jesus asks the second, more telling question: “What about you? Who do you say that I am?”

Before we get to Peter’s oft quoted, oft reflected upon, and preached upon response, let’s be careful to remember that at the end of the “walking on the water” incident contained within the Gospel reading two weeks ago, the disciples in the boat with Jesus — not just Peter — looked upon their Teacher with awe and said, “Truly you are the son of God” [Matthew 14:33b]. As a group, although they are all sometimes a bit slow on the take, they are moving forward to an understanding of their Lord’s true identity.

But here, eager beaver, as always, Peter steps forward before anyone else can say anything and speaks, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.”

We should stop just for a second to recognize that in Judaism near the end of the first century, there was no single understanding of “messiah.” The word comes from the Hebrew word meaning “anointed,” but there is plenty of room to wonder for what the messiah was anointed. Was he a political leader, a king, a prophet? Maybe, maybe not. Just as well-meaning people look at Scripture today and sometimes disagree as to its meaning, so then, serious, well-meaning people looked at the Hebrew Bible — our OT — and had divergent views as to what “messiah” meant.

Here, in the Gospel, Peter uses the “magic” word, so to speak, but the meaning of that special role is yet to be determined. Many scholars explain that verse 20, where Jesus orders them not to tell anyone that he is the Messiah [what many scholars refer to this as “the Messianic secret], reflects the fact that Jesus knows all too well that Peter and others may know he is the Messiah, but they do not yet know what it means for Jesus and, also important, have no good idea what it means to be a true follower of “the Christ.”

Quite a few scholars have pointed out that the answer to Jesus’ first question connects Christ’s unlimited power in the present to other moments in Israel’s history. How Christ’s unbridled, untamed power will unfold in the present moment has yet to be discovered. The answer to that question is all caught up in Jesus’ question to you and to me?

“But what about you?” he asked, “Who do you say I am?”

One of the many things I enjoyed about the Carolina Arbors neighborhood is its thoughtful pattern of paved walking trails. While some of the trails meander in and through the neighborhood itself, one part passes along the exterior boundary of the large development. Included along that pathway are a number of well-constructed bridges.

Several years ago, as I walked along that exterior trail, and approached one of those bridges, I realized that during a heavy thunderstorm the previous evening, lightning had struck a large oak tree, causing a significant portion to come crashing down on the bridge. Several days later, the bridge had been cleared and repaired, but there was still a significant portion of the huge tree lying in the creek bed of Little Brier Creek, impeding its flow. An engineer and some workers had been dispatched to remove the fallen tree, but it was no small undertaking.

Abiding by OSHA rules, the work crew had erected a fence of sorts to cordon off the work area. Intended both to be temporary and movable, so that the work crew and their equipment could enter and exit the area, the fence consisted of a bright orange plastic mesh. It was held up by metal rods that were randomly poked into the soggy ground. The fence, of course, was unnecessary. The chances that a bunch of senior citizens were going to crawl down the creek bed, among the snakes and soggy ground, and explore a fallen tree were pretty small. Again, however, thank the Lord for OSHA.

Early the following day, as I approached the bridge where the tree had fallen, I noticed that the workers were not yet at the site, but that two neighbors had indeed done the unpredictable. They’d made their way through some of the creekside undergrowth and were huddled at one edge of the plastic mesh “fence.” Wondering what they were doing, I yelled to the ladies, “Do you need any help?”

One of them turned and waved, saying, “No, we’re just trying to free a small bird that somehow got caught up in the plastic webbing. It doesn’t seem to be injured, but it sure is scared.”

Indeed, from my position just ten feet away, I could see that several metal rods had come loose at some point, causing the fence to fall, snaring the defenseless bird. The bird’s efforts to extricate itself from the mess had, of course, made matters worse. It was wet, and frightened, and, had the ladies not seen it, doomed. I stood watching while one of the women slowly unwound and untangled the plastic netting. The bird, of course, not knowing the effort was to free it, protested with wild counter-movements, but within a couple of minutes, the ladies had freed the creature, and it bolted into the freedom of the sky. I remember thinking to myself, “I bet it feels good to be that free!”

Early yesterday morning, as I prepared a bit for my Wednesday Carolina Arbors Zoom® Bible Study, I thought about my own answer to Jesus’ probing question — “Tom, who do you say I am?” My eyes wandered to one of the other readings appointed for this week. “Ah,” I thought, “the relatively familiar 124th Psalm.”

My eyes settled on the second half of the short psalm.

Praise be to the LORD, who has not let us be torn by their teeth. We have escaped like a bird from the fowler’s snare; the snare has been broken, and we have escaped. Our help is in the name of the LORD, the Maker of heaven and earth [Psalm 124:6-8, emphasis added].

As I thought about the love shown us by our risen Lord, by His willingness to undergo suffering and death, even death on a cross, I said to myself, “I know who You are; You’re the One who broke the snare! Thanks be to God!”