Why you don’t want to spend too much time in Galilee. . .
When Jesus came into the district of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, Who do people say that I am? They replied, Some say John the Baptizer; others, Elijah; still others one of the prophets.
And you, he went on to ask, Who do you say that I am?
I have had the wonderful privilege of twice standing in the region in and around Caesarea Philippi. The district lies at the headwaters of the Jordan river far in the north of Galilee. It is lush and green. . . peaceful and serene. Springs are bubbling up everywhere, and streams of cool water make that familiar sound that soothes one’s soul. Actually, that’s true of most of Galilee and the northern regions of Israel.
It was a bit strange to think of Jesus in such a cool and comfortable place, and I can remember saying to myself, This isn’t the way I normally picture Jesus’ surroundings. I had never pictured Jesus getting rained on before.
Normally I think of Jesus in the hot desert regions, parched and dry. Normally I think of Jesus knocking on death’s door, just outside of the city of Jerusalem.
When in Israel, we drove southward from Galilee to Jerusalem and made our right turn in the Judean Desert to go up to Jerusalem. I remembered the parable of the Good Samaritan, and found myself looking out the bus window, into the desert, for the bandits that one would have expected to find there in Jesus’ Day.
I wonder… is it too much to presume that the disciples might have been rather comfortable following Jesus around the cooler, greener and safer regions of Galilee? This incident in Caesarea Philippi of Galilee is absolutely pivotal. Up to this point, Jesus has been acting pretty much like the standard issue Prophet: teaching his disciples and gathering crowds.
Up to this point in the Gospels, the mission and ministry of Jesus and his disciples has not been too terribly threatened. As places go in Jesus’ Day, Galilee was a comfortable place; Galilee is certainly far removed from Calvary.
But, alas, the turning point: Jesus asks his disciples, Who do YOU say that I am? It’s a teaching question. It’s a question that causes one to set parameters and define commitments.
Peter answers the question correctly: You are the Christ, but even though Matthew tells us that Jesus commends Peter for his faith, later it becomes evident that full understanding of the import of this claim was to come much later for Peter.
Immediately following this incident in Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus goes on to describe a dying and rising messiah, and that settles in like bad medicine. Jesus goes on from here, making it absolutely clear that to be his disciple means much more than following him all around comfortable Galilee.
Jesus is, in effect, saying, that to be a Christian actually means to venture away from the cool and comfortable Galilees into the more risky, unpredictable and even hazardous regions of life, into the Judean desert and, yes, even up the dangerous road to Jerusalem.
I believe it was Neil Simon who said, If no one ever took risks, Michelangelo would have painted the Sistine floor.
My dear friends in Christ, do you know where the Galilees are in our churches today? Galilee could very easily be right in the nave and sanctuary on Sunday mornings… right in the middle of worship. That is where we often answer the question: Who do you say that I am? And the liturgical response comes back every single week without failure:
We believe that you are the one Lord, Jesus Christ, the only Son of God, eternally begotten of the father, God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God (Nicene Creed).
And, of course, all God’s people say. AMEN.
But if the confessions stop within church walls, then are we really just saying, Jesus, I’m only going as far as the southern edge of Galilee, and no farther.
Church is all too often a comfortable and Safe Place. But church isn’t supposed to be about cuddling up in the nest, it’s about being pushed over the edge. What is it that one of our Eucharistic prayers says so aptly? Deliver us from the presumption of coming to this Table for solace only, and not for strength; for pardon only, and not for renewal.
You see, I read today’s Gospel, and I wonder why more churches don’t have height requirements posted at the entrances. I wonder why there aren’t more signs up warning of all the health hazards of coming on board this tortuous, high velocity roller coaster we call the church of Jesus Christ!
As contradictory as it seems, sometimes we find Galilee to be a circle around our baptismal font. It happens whenever we treat baptism as a safe little celebration… as a day to dress up, have cake, and wait for the pictures. When in fact, Baptism is a place of drowning, a place of dying and rising again, a pad that launches one from Galilee to Jerusalem!
Galilee is not a bad place… it’s where faith begins… it’s where seeds are planted… Galilee is the place of calling, the beginning of the journey, but Galilee is NOT, and should never be, the end of the line.
Then Jesus began to teach them that the Promised One had to suffer much, be rejected by the elders, chief priests and religious scholars, be put to death and rise again three days later.
What a surprise! What a shock for those disciples who suddenly wondered if this was the same army they signed up for previously.
There is a true story about a woman who signed up for a 10K run.
When the gun went off, she was caught up in all the runners taking off from the starting line. She was in the race. The only trouble is they kept running and running, far longer than they should have been running in the 10K event.
She finally stopped and asked an official, Why isn’t the course turning around?He said, Ma’am, you are running the Cleveland Marathon, Twenty-Six miles.
It turned out that her event, the 10K, was to start a half-hour after the marathon.
She made the decision to keep right on going; she finished the race.
Later she told an interviewer, That wasn’t the race I trained for, and it wasn’t the race I entered, but for better or worse, it’s the race I ran. Do you ever feel like that as a Christian?
A lot of Christians find halfway into the race that they’re going to have to go farther than they thought, and in a different direction. It takes a conscious effort to get on the bus and head south toward Jerusalem. It gets down to good old-fashioned commitment.
It’s a little bit like the disturbing story of the pig and the hen who were discussing their respective roles in bringing about a bacon and egg breakfast. After listening to the hen go on and on about all the effort that goes into laying the eggs, the pig finally interrupted and said to the hen, Look, you may be involved in this, but I’m committed.
Jesus never promised that the journey would be comfortable, but he did promise that we would never be alone! And that, dear friends in Christ, is why we can always, Go forth, rejoicing in the power of the Spirit.
Let us pray:
Disturb us, Lord, when we are too well pleased with ourselves, when our dreams have come true because we have dreamed too little, when we arrive safely because we sailed too close to the shore.
Disturb us, Lord, to dare more boldly, to venture on wider seas, where storms will show your mastery, where in losing sight of land, we shall find the stars.
We ask you to push back the horizon of our hopes, and to push us into the future in strength, courage, hope, and love.
Thank you for the knowledge you impart to us.
You are most welcome!
Bill+