WHO DO YOU SAY THAT I AM?

Rev. Bobby Musengwa

Transitional General Presbyter

Imagining Caesarea Philippi of imperial Rome 

A Weekly Reflection for Mission Presbytery | Matthew 16:13-20 

Two thousand years ago, Jesus was in Caesarea Philippi and stood in front of a significant religious cave and a magnificent imperial marble temple (Augusteum), and asked his disciples one question that still reverberates today. 

"Who do you say that I am?" 

That question is not small talk. 

It is the most important question any of our folks and our congregations will answer this week, whether we say it out loud or not. 

I have been to Caesarea Philippi in 2018 and stood on the ruins of imperial Rome. One could only imagine the majestic projection of imperial power and the illusion of divine pretense pervasive at the time. 

Contradicting that powerful narrative must have required fortitude and faith in Jesus as the Messiah. 

In our ordination vows one of the question we ask is,

“Do you trust in Jesus Christ your Savior, acknowledge him Lord of all and Head of the Church, and through him believe in one God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit?” (Book of Order, W4.0404a) 

We also ask this question at baptism and when people join the church to become active members. 

The question and its relevant response are obviously foundational to our faith. In the olden days we simply asked, “Who is your Lord and Savior?” 

Jesus Christ is my Lord and Savior was always the right response. 

Usually, you cannot formally join a Presbyterian church without answering this question correctly. 

THE CITY THAT WORSHIPED CAESAR 

Jesus asked his question in Caesarea Philippi. That was not a random spot on a map. It was a company town for the Roman Empire. 

There was a cave there where people worshiped the god Pan. 

There was a marble temple built by King Herod to honor his patron Caesar Augustus. A year earlier in 20BC, Caesar Augustus had given this important land to King Herod. 

Caesar's titles were carved into coins and stone all over that city: 

Son of God. Lord. Savior of the world. Bringer of peace. Bringer of good news. Sound familiar? 

Those were CAESAR'S titles first. Rome used them to tell people who really ran the world. 

So when Jesus asks "Who do you say that I am?" in that exact spot, he is not asking for a Sunday School answer. 

He is asking his disciples to say, out loud, in the shadow of the empire's own formidable advertising, who actually holds the power. 

Today, it would be like going to a place filled with the name and symbols of today’s powerful potentate and defiantly declare, “Jesus is Lord and you’re NOT!” 

It was dangerous then and is still dangerous today. 

Perhaps we should ask ourselves: what "little Caesars" are we quietly bowing to? Budget fear? Attendance numbers? The fear of change? Grave threats from unhinged folks. Name it out loud and see if we can defang the fear.

PETER'S ANSWER WAS AN ACT OF DEFIANCE 

Peter says it plainly. "You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God." 

Scholars who read this passage through the eyes of empire and colonization point out that confessing Jesus as Lord in a city built to honor Caesar was never just personal piety. It was a political statement. It said the emperor does not get the final word here. God does. 

Jesus is taking out the illusion of imperial power and revealing that the emperor has no clothes.

Peter told the truth about who Jesus was in a town built on illusion. 

That is still our job today, to help take out the illusion of temporal power and reveal Jesus as the real deal, so to speak. 

Can you name one illusion you, your congregation or your community lives inside of? 

Then tell the truth about it, even in a small group of two or three people at coffee hour. The truth shall set you free! 

THE KEYS BELONG TO ALL OF US 

Jesus tells Peter he is giving him "the keys of the kingdom." 

A lot of church traditions have read that as one man holding all the authority, forever, passed down through one office. We Presbyterians do not read it that way. 

Reformed theology, going all the way back to the Scots Confession and carried forward in our Book of Order, teaches that Christ's authority in the church is exercised through the whole body of believers, not stored up in one person. 

Elders share the keys. The session shares the keys. The presbytery shares the keys. The General Assembly shares the keys. All Presbyterians share the keys! 

Think of it like a small family business versus a franchise with one owner far away. In a Presbyterian congregation, nobody gets to hold every key to every door forever. Leadership rotates. Elders are ordained by the whole session, not appointed by a single boss. 

That is not an accident. It is a theological conviction about how power should work in Christ's church. 

Some deep thinking scholars write about how easily biblical texts about authority get twisted to prop up power that was never meant to be permanent or one-sided. Our polity is built to guard against exactly that.

This week, look at your session. Ask honestly: does power actually rotate here, or has one person or one family been holding all the keys for far too long? 

This week I’m writing this reflection from South Africa, where I’m on Study Leave, so please forgive me when I indulge too much on this. 

In the 1980s, the Dutch Reformed Mission Church in South Africa (DRMCSA), established in 1881 for Coloured people (mixed race, different from Black people, by Apartheid’s racial stratification), faced its own version of "who do you say Jesus is." 

The white Dutch Reformed Church had used scripture to bless apartheid and hoard power. 

They said separation of the races was God's order for creation. Some religious leaders went along with this illusion. 

The Black, Coloured, and Indian members of the Reformed family said no. 

The DRMCSA wrote the Belhar Confession. It said unity, reconciliation, and justice are not optional extras of the gospel. They are the gospel. 

It said a church that blesses division under Christ's name is committing heresy, not just making a policy mistake. 

Belhar is now part of our own Book of Confessions, since 2016, the first modern one outside of Europe. 

That confession did not come from a comfortable committee room. It came from Christians under a ruthless oppressive government who had to decide, in real danger, whether Jesus was Lord over apartheid's laws or under them. Imagine a boot on your neck and a question asking, 

“Who is your Lord and Savior?” 

They answered Jesus is Lord. 

Over everything. 

No exceptions. 

And they bore the ruthless consequences. 

This week, we can ask ourselves: where in our community is scripture still being used, quietly, to bless division instead of unity? We must not wait for a safer year. 

MATTHEW 25 AND YOUR ANSWER THIS WEEK 

Our denomination's Matthew 25 invitation asks congregations to actively work toward dismantling structural racism, building congregational vitality, and eradicating systemic poverty.

That invitation is just Peter's confession with its work boots on. 

Saying "Jesus is Lord" and then doing nothing about poverty, racism, or a struggling congregation is not confession. It is decoration. 

Bring these three questions to your next session meeting. 

1. Who does our congregation say Jesus is, based on what we actually spend money on?

2. Who does our congregation say Jesus is, based on who we welcome and who we do not? 

3. What would change this month if we took our own answer to "who do you say I am" seriously? 

Do not let this sit in your email newsletter. Bring it to the table this week or at the earliest opportune time, with unity and reconciliation as our urgent mission. 

Mission Presbytery is filled with wonderful people, who, despite our differences, know how to live well together here on earth as if we are practicing to live well together in heaven. 

Let’s keep on keeping on, Mission Presbytery folks! God loves you and so do I!

Grace and peace, 

Rev. Bobby Musengwa 

Transitional General Presbyter 

Mission Presbytery