Who Do You Say I Am?

In our Gospel for this Sunday, we get to be like a fly on the wall for an intimate conversation between Jesus and his disciples. He asks them who people say he is, and then he asks a much more tender question: who do you say I am? At first, they get it right. Peter answers, “You are the Christ.” I imagine Jesus feels affirmed in this moment and understood by those closest to him. They know who he is, and he wants to be known. He’s not ready for everyone to know him, but he does want to be understood by those close to him.

A moment later, though, Peter gets it wrong. Jesus explains to them that he must suffer, be rejected by the religious authorities, die, and rise. How does Peter respond to that? He takes Jesus aside and rebukes him. I mean, really. Who does that? So, then it's clear that Peter and probably the others don't understand him after all.

Can you relate to any of this? When I reflect on this story, my heart is with Jesus. You don't have to be the Messiah to know what it feels like to be misunderstood by people.

There’s something about us humans that wants to be understood, isn’t there? Ultimately, we want to be loved, but to be loved, we also have to be known. Otherwise, others’ love for us doesn’t feel genuine. I can say, “Yes, my friends or family say they love me, but if they knew [fill in the blank] about me, they might not.” When we’re understood for who we are and loved as we are, that’s true intimacy. That’s real love.

This is one of those things that sounds easy but is actually tricky. We want to be known, but we are also an ever-unfolding mystery. We are growing and changing all the time, and there are aspects of ourselves that we continue to learn about throughout our whole lives. Our experiences and also our relationships help to reveal ourselves to ourselves as we go along through life. And hopefully we can go gently, with compassion, as we learn about ourselves.

 So, if we don’t even fully know ourselves, how can others understand us? Growing in understanding of ourselves and our loved ones is a lifelong task, but we undertake it because of our love for the people in our lives. I guess it’s a cycle — the more we love someone, the more we want to understand them, and the more we understand someone, the more we love them. And the more someone knows and loves us, the more we feel free to share ourselves, and the more we share, the more we feel loved as we are.

Jesus wants to be known by his disciples, but he doesn’t want his identity to be shared with everyone, at least, not yet. That’s fair. That’s healthy too, and the same is true for us. We grow in our relationships by sharing ourselves little by little until we trust each other. Revealing the deepest parts of ourselves to people we don’t know or people we don’t trust is not such a healthy thing. If you’ve ever been burned after sharing something about yourself, or if you’ve ever had the person you shared with turn and gossip about it with others, you know what I mean. Allowing someone to know us is a great gift, and so we need to be careful about who we give that gift to. Everyone is not safe, and everyone is not trustworthy. Everyone is not capable of receiving who we are, not usually because of us but because of their own stuff.

So, we choose carefully with whom we share, and when we share from the heart, we express both our joys and sorrows. I think that’s what Jesus is seeking here. Yes, he’s glad his disciples know he’s the Christ, but he also wants them to know that he will suffer. I’m sure he has lots of feelings about that, but his disciples are not hearing it at all. They love him, so of course they want to deny that part of what he’s saying. And yet, he’s telling them about it, maybe to try and share the burden of it. Maybe he carries it around in his heart all the time and needs a little care and compassion. It’s clear that they can’t support him, at least not in this interaction.

But he doesn’t give up. When his close friends can’t understand him, Jesus keeps trying. When we really love someone, we will keep trying to understand them. And when we love ourselves, we will keep communicating in our relationships as well. I see that at play in this story too. Jesus will keep teaching as long as he has breath, and those who love him will keep trying to understand. Sometimes they’ll get it right and sometimes they won’t. That’s okay. There’s always room to keep growing in understanding. Even after Jesus dies and rises, he still instructs, converses, and shares himself, and his disciples still lean in and listen. Their love for each other is stronger than death.

So, what call do you hear in all this? For me, I notice an invitation to keep seeking understanding when it comes to Christ, because honestly, even as a lifelong Christian, I can’t claim to fully understand the deep mystery of Christ. And God. And Spirit. I also hear a call to continue to seek understanding in my relationships with people. Those tender conversations that help us to understand each other better aren’t always easy, but they’re important to growth in our relationships. And through my relationships, and my own self reflection and life experiences, I’m called to grow in understanding the ever-unfolding mystery that is myself.

Our Second Reading from James tells us to have works in addition to faith, to take action. Love is an action and not a feeling, and relationships take work. Part of how we love is through our listening and heartfelt sharing.

For reflection:

  • What resonates with you in all of this?

  • Have you ever shared from the heart with someone and been received with love and understanding? What was that like?

  • Have you ever received someone else’s sharing and had the opportunity to offer care and support? What did you do? what was it like?

  • Maybe you could take a little time and talk all of this over with God, God who knows and understands you more than anyone ever could, and who loves you deeply and profoundly too.

By Sister Leslie Keener, CDP

Sister Leslie Keener, CDP is the director of God Space, a community-building spirituality ministry in Cincinnati and Northern Kentucky. She’s a Sister of Divine Providence with a Masters in Ministry and a Certificate in Spiritual Direction and Retreats from Creighton University. She directs retreats, meets with people for spiritual direction, and serves as the vocation director for her community. She enjoys music, meaningful conversations, and dancing.