Who Do You Say that I AM?

I've heard this question read and preached many times.  Growing up, this question was like the litmus test of faith.  A good faithful pilgrim is expected to follow in Peter's footsteps:  "why, you are the Christ, the Son of the living God!"

We often develop a knee-jerk, very poised answer to this question which springs from our early exposure to religious education.  But, I think this is a question that we are meant to wrestle with, hone, define, and constantly answer and re-answer.  Perhaps my thoughts spring too much from my teaching of Christology.  Perhaps my thoughts are influenced by my kinship with my Jewish ancestors?  I find this question quite challenging when we forego prescribed answers given us by our tradition.

When I worked and studied at Catholic University, one of the more esteemed professors was John Meier who wrote a series entitled: A Marginal Jew.

The title alone was enough to stir controversy along with a very Jewish Jesus on the cover.  But, the books themselves were chock full of academic searching, digging, and footnoting the complexity of Jesus' identity then and now.  As had been discovered prior to the publishing of this book in biblical studies, there are distinctions that can be made between the identity of Jesus of Nazareth and the Christ of faith.

                                           

Thus, when I hear this question in our devotion this morning, I hear "who is Jesus of Nazareth to you?"  I find that question easier to answer than "who is the Christ of faith?"  The first question draws me into the biblical story and the profound revolutionary nature of a proclaimed kingdom of love and grace. The second question draws me to ecumenical councils, creeds, papal proclamations, religious debates, and a long history of folks trying to "figure out God."

So much of our modern religious theology is grounded in the primacy of belief or thinking:  I think therefore I am.  My experience, however, is often this: I think therefore I doubt.  Beyond what my mind can wrangle of history and biblical narrative there is still the question of who is Jesus to me?  And, while we often think we have to answer the question correctly, in front of others, I find it to be a deeply private question.  It is as hard to answer as "who is my child, who is my spouse to me?"  There are no adequate words, no air tight philosophies to explain.  And while I once found that maddening, I take comfort in this elusiveness these days.

I am glad that I am invited to answer this question and do not have to whittle it into stone.  I am glad that the answer changes as I engage scripture and seek more deeply.  I no longer feel it to be a litmus test of orthodoxy, but an invitation to relationship.  Just as we do with those we meet (or even allow into our circles on Facebook) we are asked to categorize:  am I friend to this person, acquaintance, colleague, partner, spouse, parent, or pastor?  These distinctions are often helpful in our finite relationships but I am not sure they apply here.  Can I let go of categorizing and defining to let Jesus be who he is to me?