Sermon for the Second Sunday in Lent

“But who do you say
that I am?”

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We are in a time of penance. We are in a time of asceticism.
We are in a time of discipline. And for what? For the sake of this Jesus. Now
Jesus asks us: ‘Who do you say that I
am?’

Who do you say He is? Who is this that, when you were
baptized, when you were confirmed, you promised loyalty to, even loyalty of
death. Who is this that, when you were asked ‘Will you hold to this confession,
even unto death.’ You said ‘I will.’

You swore it. You said ‘I will die for Jesus.’ That is good,
assuming we, when we all swore so, were being honest. But the Lord does not
cease His questioning of us there. He does not merely ask ‘Will you die for
me?’ He demands of you now: ‘who do you say that I am?’

‘Some say John the
Baptist, Some say Elijah, and others, one of the prophets.’

‘Who do you say that I
am?’

Did we not all say it, when we were baptized, when we were
confirmed?

‘You are the Christ.’

This is our confession. And as Christians, having made this
confession, we are told regularly ‘Invite your friends to Church. Invite them
to Bible Study. Invite them to Sunday School. Invite them to Koinonia. Invite
them to the potluck. Tell your friends. Tell your neighbors. Tell your
coworkers. Tell your family. Tell them. Tell them.’

Tell them that ‘you
are the Christ.’

Yet it is written:

‘But he strictly
charged them to tell no one about him.’

So Christ tells us. Now is not the time for telling. It is
not the time for inviting. It is not that we cannot or should not do these
things. But Christ tells us that there is, for this time, something else
towards which our attention should be cast.

‘And he began to teach
them that the Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected by the elders
and the chief priests and the scribes and be killed, and after three days rise
again.’

Now is not a time for telling, unless we tell ‘Behold, him who was made sin for us.’ Now
is not a time for inviting, unless we invite ‘Come and see, and I saw.’ Now is a time for beholding. Behold. A
thousand times the Scriptures cry out ‘Behold.’ And a thousand times we ignore
it. Now the Lord commands St. Peter, Now the Lord commands you ‘Tell no one,’ that is ‘shut up’, and
‘Behold.’

‘Behold’ ‘The Son of
Man must suffer many things and be rejected by the elders and chief priests and
the scribes and be killed, and after three days rise again.’

It is not at all strange to be commanded to behold. The word
Israel means ‘Him who has seen God.’ And we are Israel. So Christ commands us
to see God, to become Israel, to embrace our name, to become our new nature. ‘Behold, the Lord your God.’

But how do we see God? How do we imagine Him?

An unutterable light. An imponderable glory. An infinite
radiance. An unlimited power. These come to mind when we say the word ‘God.’

You may think of God this way, ‘and so do the also demons, and tremble.’ You may imagine such a
God, and the Lord rebukes you: ‘Get
behind me Satan.’

‘Behold,’ ‘Do you not
know that it is necessary that The Son of Man must suffer many things and be
rejected by the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the
third day be raised?’

There is no God but that God which bears a cross. There is
no God but that God who will suffer for those He loves. There is no God but
that God that will be betrayed, that will bleed, that will be beaten and
scourged and pierced and whipped and mocked and hated. There is no God but the
Son of Man who must suffer many things.

Lent, dear Christians, is like a journey through the
wilderness. From a distance, we draw closer and closer to a distant cross, a
distant crucifixion, a distant execution.

We draw closer, with the confession of St. Peter upon our
lips. ‘Thou art the Christ.’

And as we draw closer, closer to the blood, to the agony, to
the cries, to the torments, indeed, to the cross itself, we will touch the
wounded feet of Jesus. We will smell the blood of his wounds. We will see his
pierced brow. Indeed ‘we will see Him as
He is’ for ‘we will see him face to face.’

And when you see Him, sacrificed and tortured upon a tree
for His love of you, your lips will cry no longer the confession of St. Peter,
but the confession of St. Thomas:

‘My Lord, and My God!’

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Preached by Pastor
Fields

Sermon Texts: Genesis
17:1-7, 15-16; Romans 5:1-11; Mark 8:27-38.