Who do you say that I am?
August 23, 2026 • The 13th Sunday After Pentecost • Proper 16
Isaiah 51:1-6| Psalm 138 | Romans 12:1-8| Matthew 16:13-20
Oh, to be known. It’s what we long for, what we look for in relationships. But not all knowing is created equal. According to the social media algorithms that supposedly know me, my life would be so much better if I had a new leather bag to hold a new planner, had a wardrobe subscription for short people, took a GLP-1 and all kinds of supplements, exercised, took a European vacation, and had a nice garden out back. There’s probably more, but that tells you enough to get an idea of how the marketing world knows me. To the algorithm, I’m a middle-aged woman with predictable online viewing and shopping patterns–a consumer–traceable through the world wide web that ties all of us together.
Long before the internet, knowing full well that he is the Son of Man and binds us all together, Jesus asked his disciples, “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?” Well, some say John the Baptist, others Elijah, and some Jeremiah or some other prophet. The disciples were keen to share their knowledge about what others say. “But who do you say that I am?” In that question, we aren’t told the length of silence that unfolds, the stillness that washed over them as Jesus waited, meeting the gaze of those who dared to look at him. Of course it’s Peter who responds first. Did he blurt it out, sure and certain: “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God!”? Or is he caught in Jesus’s gaze and speaks the truth nearly involuntarily: “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God”? However he said it, it was true, and Jesus knows that Simon son of Jonah means it, even if he doesn’t fully understand it, and Jesus affirms the name Peter, the rock upon which he will build the church.
If it’s true, then why keep it secret? Perhaps the short answer is that they weren’t ready. A mere 6 verses later, as we will hear in our gospel lesson next week, Peter forbids that Jesus would undergo suffering, death, and resurrection. Peter may have known in his heart that Jesus is the Messiah, but he doesn’t understand, can’t grasp the magnitude of what it meant or would mean as salvation for all or a threat to the powers that be.
What if it’s not the knowledge or claim that Jesus is commending in Peter? As Jesus said, it wasn’t flesh and blood that could reveal the truth to him. What if Jesus commends Peter’s gift of faith? Simon Peter believed Jesus was the Messiah, the anointed one, the chosen one, the one who came to do God’s will, and Jesus knows this revelation comes from God alone. God has given Peter this revelation. In the healing of the Centurion’s son and the Canaanite woman’s daughter, it was their faith that Jesus commended. It is faith that God gives us that guides our belief in Jesus Christ, leading us toward wholeness.
“Look to the rock from which you were hewn,” we heard in Isaiah, spoken as a word of hope to those making their return from exile. Remember who you are, where you come from, and whose you are. There are many in the family of the faithful. Abraham’s faithfulness led him to be the father of many nations, an ancestry that can’t be shaken. The rock that is Peter’s faith, upon which the Christian church is built, continues in the rich ancestry of faithfulness. That faithfulness led the disciples and others to follow Jesus beyond the Ascension, and it was faithfulness that led Paul to call for unity in one Body of Christ. We follow in a long line of the faithful–not perfect, but faithful.
When we believe but don’t understand, we are still faithful. It can be tempting to pretend that we have everything figured out or try to fill in all the gaps with something else. In the letter to the Romans, the people were cautioned not to think of themselves more highly than they ought to think and to remember that all are part of one body in Christ. The further away people got from the life of Christ, the more dependent upon faith yet the more vulnerable they became to false teachers, human exploits, and idolatry. Remember, Paul seems to plead. Be re-membered; be connected as one body. Don’t conform to the world that thinks it knows you, “but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God–what is good and acceptable and perfect.” Paul calls the faithful to come together in our various gifts to be the Body God has created us to be, offering insight on how to live according to our faithfulness, as he goes on to elaborate later in his letter.
To believe in Jesus Christ isn’t something we do half-heartedly. As Paul calls upon his siblings to present their bodies in worship, we bring our whole selves to a life lived in faith. We commit to filling our role in the body of the faithful, and it is in that body that we collectively discern the will of God, having first discerned our call to come in because of the faith we, too, have been given and accepted.
As part of the Body of Christ, how do we respond today when Jesus asks, “Who do yousay that I am?” You who are baptized and confirmed. You who come to church every week or every chance you get. You who wandered in here not knowing why, and you who know why you come. Who do we say that Jesus is?
We rest on the faith of Peter, maybe draw from it, borrow his words, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” But what does that mean in our lives? Peter had walked with Jesus countless miles. Peter saw Jesus heal the incurable, the untouchable. Peter walked through his own denial and redemption, and he proclaimed the Good News to all who would listen. He gave his testimony. What is yours?
Only you know your experience with Jesus. On more than one occasion, it is the presence of Jesus that came beside me when I was at my most sorrowful, most helpless. When I wondered if there was any help to be found, the nearness of our Lord and Savior swelled within me, and I wondered how I could ever doubt that I was alone. Sometimes it’s the hand of a friend who takes ours, sometimes it’s the words we hear, and sometimes it’s a reminder only we perceive that assures us that we are part of something more.
For the Body of Christ is beautiful in its fullness–good, acceptable, and perfect in its unity. When we forget that we come from a people of faith, forget that we belong to a Body that manifests the reign of God here and now, then we lose ourselves. We do not know who we are. We are susceptible to being told who we are by the world, and typically when the world tells us who we are, we get lost, isolated, distracted from the common good. We become defined by our productivity and consumption, data points to a system built around greed, power, and profit for the mighty.
When we turn to a beloved, however, and ask, “Who do you say that I am?”, we trust that the response will be given from the heart, that we will be recognized for who we are in our whole life, the meaningful relationships we nurture, the calls we have answered, the joys and delights in our life, the experiences we have endured and suffered. Who we are isn’t defined by what we need to improve our lives according to the world’s standards. If we asked Jesus, “Who do you say that I am,” perhaps he would name our parents back to our ancestors until he connected us to Abraham and Sarah. Perhaps he would call us by name, trace our faithfulness back to Peter, and show us how important, even if minuscule, our place is in the Body of Christ as we continue to discern and fulfill the will of God.
~The Rev. Sara Milford
[1] https://www.episcopalchurch.org/lectionary/peter-paul/