Reflections from The Hill – Speaking Up

There’s a lot of chat on the streets about Jesus and who he is. Everyone’s got an opinion, from the bishop (any bishop) down: the bro who’s dealing joints, your hairdresser or the friendly barista at Gloria Jean’s.

It’s no surprise to know that there are opinions in those sepulchres of advanced learning, too. Scientists and philosophers are particularly vocal but plenty of others will give you a potted course in their version of Christology at the drop of a stethoscope, too.

Just thumbing through the Gospels ourselves, we see that quite a number of people there have a view of Jesus as well, not all of them complimentary: Mary’s son; a prophet without honour in his own country; the king of the Jews; a prophet, a rabbi and a pain in the neck.

He can heal your sick child, cast out your demons, forgive your sins, raise your mate from death and lead the revolution. He’s the bloke to invite to dinner and the bloke to invite to leave the district.

He’s been alive, dead and risen again; some say he’s coming back for a third shot, which raises the question about how many times he needs to get it right; and, of course, he’s Lord and God.

People say lots of things about Jesus, spiritually, theologically, historically, colloquially, pastorally or biblically. They shout out his name on building sites, on the internet, at the kitchen table, from pulpits and in psych wards. You can hear the word used in anger, joy, bitterness and any other emotion, or none.

People describe him, decry him, defend him, and deconstruct him. They explain him; complain about him, and just plain yak about him. Jesus is easy to talk about. Pick your context, pick your method, and go for it, says Anna Florence in Lectionary Homiletics.

The one place that talking about Jesus can be tricky, however, is at church. Ever tried it at the morning tea after the Service?

“We have boundaries Ian,” I was told after one such attempt, “There’s a time and place for everything, you know.”

We do have limits, sure. There are things about Jesus that you can’t say about him, not if you want to pass your theological exam anyway. So we learn very quickly what line the examiners want to read, what the selection committee members want to hear, what the denominational view is.

The trick with this is to learn how to honour all of the above and maintain one’s integrity at the same time, so that what people say about Jesus intersects with what we say. That’s the place where formation happens, that’s where we are moulded. What people say does shape us, about that there is no doubt.

In a curiosity of life pretty much limited to the miraculous, what people say about Jesus turns into something far greater than what the sum total of their words could ever do.

So how do we make the jump from what people say to what we say about Jesus? This is really the touchstone of this week’s Gospel Reading.

It’s the touchstone of the Gospel because it is the foundation for a person to mature in the faith of Christ, a Confirmation requisite.

It’s the touchstone of the Gospel because by it people are formed and moulded into Christ themselves. Their participation in church practices – singing, praying, serving, feeding, foot washing and the like – deepens what they say about Jesus by immersing them in what others say.

It’s not just a matter of knowing stuff, like how to pronounce Old Testament words or of knowing what “eschatology” means. Information is readily available and people knock their eyes out satisfying their curiosity.

It’s Peter gives us the clue. He sets aside what others have said and listens to what the Lord is saying to him in the depths of his spirit: “You are the Messiah, the Son of the Living God” he blurts.

"Blessed are you, Simon," crows Jesus. "No human being could have told you that. You really must be listening."

For each of us, the moment comes when what people say about Jesus no longer satisfies us. We can’t hide behind their words anymore. We can’t pretend what they say is ours. We can’t substitute what people say for what we say. We only can listen to God and speak up for ourselves.