Sally A. Brown, Professor Emerita, Princeton Theological Seminary
Mark 8:27-38, dead center in Mark’s gospel, is pivotal, shifting the Gospel’s momentum from Jesus’ ministry toward his passion. Here, Mark resolves the sustained narrative tension between knowing readers (clear about Jesus’ identity since 1:1) and those inside the story who struggle to discern who Jesus is. In various ways, awestruck crowds (1:27), skeptical scribes (2:6-7), Jesus’ former Nazareth neighbors (6:2-3), and his own disciples (4:41) have pressed the question: “Who is this?” In 8:17b-21, as if speaking for Mark’s readers, Jesus himself expresses exasperation with his imperceptive students in a series of questions that ends as it begins: “Do you not [yet] understand?”
The three scenes that comprise today’s lection are homiletically rich. In the first scene, Jesus raises two questions, each a powerful diagnostic tool for assessing faith, corporate or individual. First Jesus asks: “Who do people say that I am?” Popular but disastrous misconstruals of Jesus’ mission continue to fuel everything from “prosperity” preaching to toxic “Christian nationalist” political agendas. How might we (re)present clear alternatives? Jesus’ second question, “Who do you say that I am?” urges matching action to creed: What does our use of time and resources “say” we truly believe?
In vv 31-32a, Jesus “openly” predicts his inevitable official rejection, suffering, and death, followed in three days by rising again. Hearing this as we do, through a retrospective lens of resurrection and redemption, we can miss the stomach-turning gut-punch of this announcement for Jesus’ disciples. Peter, steeped in popular expectations that the Messiah would be Israel’s emancipator, is quick to “rebuke” Jesus. Jesus reacts, rebuking Peter in return, as if seeing the Tempter’s face in his: “Get behind me, Satan!” Perhaps we, too, try to manage Jesus. We prefer a personal champion, a “fixer.”
In the final scene (verses 34-38), Jesus issues a summons to discipleship that includes not only his disciples, but the crowd. Preachers need to dismiss trivialized notions of what it means to “deny” oneself. Jesus is not asking us to “deny” ourselves a frivolous purchase or a second drink. Jesus bids us to abandon self-interest, freeing ourselves to invest utterly in God’s ways of mercy and justice.
There can be no doubt that Mark’s readers took Jesus’ reference to “taking up” one’s “cross” quite literally. First, Jesus is in a city whose very name celebrates two rulers of the Empire: Caesarea Philippi. Second, anyone condemned to crucifixion for disloyalty to the Empire carried their cross to the execution site. Jesus is clear: following him is likely to get us in trouble with the powers-that-be. He isn’t talking about bearing up under the real, but inevitable, losses that mark every human life. He is urging us to stake our lives on a paradox: we shall save our lives only in risking them for his sake.
Preachers might reach into history to tell stories of men and women who have practiced such faith.
Most of us follow at a safe—very safe—distance. Many of us have been trained, lifelong, to surround ourselves with worst-case-scenario protection: plenty of food on hand, plenty of insurance, prudent planning. Best, we’re told, to limit our investment in high-risk ventures—like becoming deeply involved with the poorest and most vulnerable around us. What would it look like to dare to live otherwise? To follow Jesus deep into situations crying out for God’s just mercy and merciful justice?
Insights into Biblical Greek Grammar and Syntax 