"The Son of Man" | The Rev. Heidi Thorsen | August 23, 2020

Proper 16, Year A | August 23, 2020

Isaiah 51:1-6 | Psalm 138 | Matthew 16:13-20

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts be pleasing to you, O God, our Rock and our Redeemer. Amen.

This week, as we draw towards the end of the summer, I have had the distinct pleasure of taking on some of the tasks of our communications manager while he is away on vacation. One of those tasks is selecting the art image at the top of our eNews for this week, an image that usually has something to do with this week’s readings. I will say that last week, this task was not easy. But this week, all I did was pick a phrase from the gospel, put it into the Google search engine, and pick the first picture that came up. Indeed it was the only picture that came up: it was the painting entitled, “The Son of Man,” by Belgian surrealist artist, Rene Magritte.

Perhaps some of you remember the image from the eNews - but just in case you don’t, and because I can, I’m going to share the image up on the screen now. For those of you who are listening today, let me describe it. In the painting there is a man dressed in a bowler hat, wearing a coat and a button up shirt with a red tie. He stands completely still, straight as board, in front of a low wall. Behind the wall is a watery blue horizon, that fades into a grey overcast sky. It is a pretty generic picture, except for one thing: in the front of the man’s face is a green apple, almost completely obscuring the man’s features. It’s a kind of unsettling painting, consistent with the surrealist style which takes things that are ordinary and makes them just a bit absurd. Interestingly enough this painting is called “the Son of Man,” the title that Jesus uses to refer to himself in our gospel passage today. It is a phrase that appears in the gospels 81 times, and always in the sayings of Jesus. This title has led art critics to wonder whether Magritte intended this painting as a deliberate religious commentary.

Magritte himself was not specific about the religious meaning in his painting. However, he does say this about the conspicuous apple in the middle of the man’s face. Magritte states, “it hides the face partly well, so you have the apparent face, the apple, hiding the visible but hidden, the face of the person. It's something that happens constantly. Everything we see hides another thing, we always want to see what is hidden by what we see. There is an interest in that which is hidden and which the visible does not show us. This interest can take the form of a quite intense feeling, a sort of conflict, one might say, between the visible that is hidden and the visible that is present.”

I was drawn to this painting, this week, for more than one reason. It wasn’t just that the title “the Son of Man,” presents an interesting dialogue with our gospel passage today. I was also drawn to this painting because it reminds me so much of the world we live in today: a world where our faces are so often covered, not by a floating green apple but by a face mask. We are still trying to curb the spread of Covid-19. In many ways we are living on the edge of the unknown: waiting for a vaccine, waiting to see how the return of students to school will affect the spread of Covid-19, doing the best we can in the meantime to protect ourselves and others. Magritte’s quote about that “intense feeling” we have, that feeling of wanting to see the visible behind the visible - oh how that quote resonated with me! We long to connect with one another - to see each other face to face, with no mask in between.

Even if there were no face masks, there are still ways that we feel separate from one another. I think that one of the greatest fears that we have, as human beings, is the fear of being misunderstood. Perhaps we fear that we will be reduced to just one part of our identity - whether it’s our religion, our gender, our race, or our political affiliation. In reality we are all far more complex than any single one of those identifiers. We are each a unique creation, and each of us longs to be known. Each of us longs to be seen. To be understood. To be loved.

In our gospel passage for today, Jesus asks his disciples a question: “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?” Now this phrase, the Son of Man, is something that Jesus has already used to refer to himself in the Gospel of Matthew, so the disciples must have some idea of where this is going. They start by giving a summary of possible answers to the question. “Some people say [the Son of Man is] John the Baptist,” the disciples say, “but others Elijah, and still others Jeremiah or one of the prophets.” It’s the kind of answer that a straight A student sitting at the front of class might give, trying to cover all possible angles to be thorough and correct. But it doesn’t seem like this is the answer that Jesus is looking for, because he asks again, and differently this time. Jesus asks, “But who do you say I am?” Who do you say I am?

We can imagine the disciples going silent, not wanting to get it wrong this time. Then, Peter answers: “You are the Messiah, the Son of the Living God.” It’s a courageous answer, even though technically this is not news to the disciples in the Gospel of Matthew. Jesus’ messiahship is already well known; widely proclaimed. It is made clear when John baptizes Jesus, and a voice from heaven says, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.” Jesus’ messiahship is made clear in the story of Jesus walking on water, when all the people in the boat respond by worshipping him and saying, “Truly you are the Son of God.” And so, when Peter makes this proclamation, in this particular gospel, it is not new news. Not like it is in the gospel of Mark, which is a parallel story for another time. In this gospel Peter is not being original. He is simply being honest - saying again what needs to be said again, and again, and again: “You are the Messiah, the son of the Living God.”

Jesus affirms Peter’s answer, and responds by giving Peter the greatest gift of all – but no, that gift is not the keys to the kingdom, or the power to loose and unbind things on heaven and on earth – even though these things are mentioned in the passage today and sound pretty impressive, almost supernatural. No, the greatest gift of all is simply when Jesus turns to Peter, and calls him by his name. It’s a strange moment. Almost redundant. Surely Peter knows his own name! And yet Jesus says it anyways, responding to Peter (or Simon Peter, as the full name goes), in this way: “Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah! For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father in heaven. And I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church.” The parts about the keys to the kingdom, and the loosing and binding, come next. But what really interests me in this passage today is the naming. We might explain the naming, a bit, by observing that Jesus is making a pun here - in koine Greek, Peter’s name Petros is remarkably close to the word for rock, petra. It’s as if Jesus is drawing a close comparison between Peter’s name and his role in building the church; his character; his solidnessness and integrity. And yet, I would like to suggest that Jesus’ explicit naming of Peter in this passage is about more than simply Jesus making a pun - especially when this conversation revolves around the question, “Who do you say I am?” When Jesus names Peter, it’s as if he’s returning the favor. You see who I am, Jesus is saying, and I see who you are. We see each other. Peter says to Jesus, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” And Jesus says to Peter, “Simon, Son of Jonah, you are Peter.” They name each other. They see each other. And that is what makes this such a powerful passage.

Through Jesus Christ, we come to know a God who sees us. Who knows us each by name. We worship a God who sees the visible beyond the visible - a God who sees all the thoughts and emotions beyond the face that we present to the world. A God who sees behind the masks that we wear, both literally and figuratively. God sees our exhaustion. God sees our sadness. God sees our vulnerability. 

And this is what Jesus chooses to build the church on - not a solid stone platform that might withstand the test of time. Rather, God chooses to build to the church on a person; on people. Flesh and blood, vulnerable, flawed. Jesus turns to Peter and says, “You are Peter, and on this Rock I will build my church.” In choosing Peter as the foundation, it might seem at first that Jesus has made a mistake - choosing something that is faulty, and fragile; prone to losing faith and slipping beneath the waves. And yet in choosing Peter - in choosing our humanity - God has chosen a foundation for the church that is stronger than any rock, or brick, or concrete. Our humanity is the strongest stuff of all. Because beyond our visible reality, there is a part of us that is invisible. Eternal. A spark of God’s image in each one of us, unique as we are. And while we each bring our faults to the church, we also bring that blessed spark. That promise of a strength that never fades away.

I return again to the words of the artist Rene Magritte, “Everything we see hides another thing…. There is an interest in that which is hidden and which the visible does not show us.” For us as Christians, part of our calling is to recognize the kingdom of God in the world around us, and in one another. Our calling is to see God’s grace in the visible world, and also to see beyond it - to see the visible beyond  the visible - to see what this world might be if we were more loving, more understanding, more true. There is a strong and direct connection between this world that we live in and the kingdom of God. Surely that is a part of what Jesus means, when he says that whatever Peter binds on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever Peter looses on earth will be loosed in heaven. These worlds are connected, and Jesus is the link. Jesus is the link between our humanity and God. Jesus is the link between what is visible and temporary, and what is invisible and eternal. Jesus is the link between this world in which we live and die, and eternal life. Jesus is the link - and that link is our salvation.

Turn towards Jesus today, and practice saying those words that Peter speaks - not for the first time, and not for the last: “You are the Messiah, the Son of the Living God.” Practice saying those words again and again and again. Practice saying them in times of extreme faith, and in times of extreme doubt. And know that God sees you, and hears you, and is with you. Amen.