Materials




Who Do You Say That I Am?
Luke 9:18-24
by R. Todd Bouldin
May 21, 2006


Jesus asks you two questions that really matter when it comes down to it. “Who do the crowds say that I Am?” The second question is directed right at you, “Who do you say that I Am?” And then there comes a promise, “Those who lose their lives for My sake will find it.” Many of us are so excited about getting the right answers to the questions that we never hear the promise. We can answer the question rightly, but never lose our lives following Jesus. But that just means our answers weren’t really the right ones after all.

Prayer - O God, I pray that this church may have the power to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge. In the Name of Your Son. Amen.

What I want most to tell you is that it was Jesus who built this congregation, that I have no new messiahs for you, and that it will be all Jesus in the years ahead. This church has never been built or sustained by any human leader, but by Jesus whose Presence dwells in our midst and Who will continue to live out His life, death and resurrection through us.

As I told you on my first Sunday with you, I’m not much of a fan of “nice sermon” comments. I certainly understand and appreciate some of the good and sweet motivations of “nice sermon” comments, but I would rather hear other comments that indicate that a person actually heard the scandal, mystery and challenge of what was said. Most often, I’ve heard things like: "Are you doing ok? You must not be feeling very well today." "Are you upset with me?” “Were you talking to me?” “I'm glad my husband heard that sermon." "So then you agree with the Apostle Paul?" “Thanks for preaching from the Bible today.” But the most affirming comment I have ever heard was last week when someone said, “You helped me see Jesus.” I’ve made a lot of mistakes along the way, but if I’ve helped you do that, then I’ve done what I came here to do.

I am sure at times that some of you wished that I had spent more time clearing up doctrines, or supporting or refuting certain issues before the church, or to have explained more about how our claim to be a “New Testament Church”. I’ve tried to do all of those when appropriate, but I’ve tried in every sermon, sometimes succeeding, and I am sure sometimes failing, to bring us back to the center of it all: Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. The One who is Alpha and Omega, beginning and end. And so on this day, we call to mind again that it is Jesus who is behind us, and Jesus who is ahead of us.

If I’ve had any common theme that has loomed over the pages of my sermons, it is that Jesus Christ is at the center of everything: creation, the world, culture, art, history, science, suffering, Scripture, the church and the future with God.

The center of Christianity is not “the church.” Nor are we a “Bible centered church.” We are a Jesus centered church, of which Scripture and the church are witnesses to that center. I am not downplaying those witnesses but rather putting them in their appropriate place in relationship to the living, breathing dynamic person of Jesus Christ. The Center of faith, the Center of our community, the Center of our worship, and the Center of Scripture is Jesus Christ. And it is to Him that I call us back to on this day.

By the time we get to the ninth chapter of the Gospel of Luke, Jesus has just calmed a storm at sea, cast a legion of demons out of a man, healed a woman with a blood disease, raised Jairus’ daughter from what looked like death, and fed the 5,000. It had been a good week. Then He turned to His disciples and asked, “Who do all of these people say that I Am?” They responded, “Jesus, these people have seen what You do. They say You are a prophet. Some are asking if You’re John the Baptist. Others are thinking Elijah, or an ancient prophet risen from the dead.”

Now to us church types, you know that isn’t the right answer. But it was the most affirming thing the religious crowd could say that day. What the crowd was claiming was that Jesus sure looked like the coming prophet who was promised by Isaiah. One who would “open the eyes of the blind, unstop the ears of the deaf, strengthen the weak hands, and make firm the feeble knees.” So it wasn’t that the crowd had the wrong answer. He was that person of prophesy, the coming Messiah. They knew the chapter and verse. But apparently that answer wasn’t right enough for Jesus. Something was missing in their answer.

Many of us are accustomed to spouting off right answers about Jesus too. He is Messiah, Savior, Prophet, Teacher, Redeemer, Friend, the Prince of Peace, Son of God. We know the answers. Chapter and verse. But we have to know more than right answers about Jesus. Soundness is never enough. Never is just knowing the stories of Jesus. Jesus Himself will never settle for an answer that stops there.

At some point in your life, Jesus will grow impatient with your well-rehearsed answers. Your answers may be safe, they may be right, but they do not require you to lose your life. At some moment in your life, usually a very dark moment, or a very desperate moment, Jesus will look into your soul and ask, “But who do you say that I Am?” That is the moment you are thrown from question one to question two – from “Who do they say I Am?” to “Who do you say that I Am?” You are thrown then from the Jesus of theologians and Bible scholars to the Jesus who wants to know what you really believe.

Peter responds, “You are the Messiah of God.” He meant that Jesus was Savior. It certainly was a right answer. No one doubts that. But what does it mean that Jesus is your Savior when your life is stuck in long, uninteresting places? Or when you go to bed lonely one more time? Or when your job is draining you? Or when you spent your day in a minivan that smells like the dog, and it is full of screaming children? Or when your health is gone and it is not coming back? You just want to scream, “Is this all? Is this as good as it gets? I expected more than this!” Then that is the day Jesus asks you this question, in this moment of desperation, “Who do you say that I Am?”

You can say that Jesus is a prophet or Messiah or Savior all that you want. We could have endless Bible classes to teach you the right answers. Over the last three and a half years, I’ve spent time helping us think together about who Jesus is. But I’m aware that sermons are really not that effective overall. The times when I discovered whether we truly knew Jesus was around hospital beds, and in our moments of loss and grief, and in moments of joy. The true, existential, down-to-your bones belief in Jesus as Savior is only born into the souls of those who know they need a Savior. The true right answer only comes to those who have given up on answers, who know they already have lost the life they expected, to those who can hear the promise.

The promise of Jesus is that “those who lose their life for Me and for My sake will find it.” As long as you are content with just having right answers about Jesus, Jesus may become just the prop that holds up your own scheme to set yourself free. Jesus did not die to give you certainty in your right answers, or to make you more comfortable, or to make you more successful at work, or to help you find the love of your life. Jesus died to save you from the most dangerous thing in your life – your plans to save yourself. Jesus wants to be our Savior and Messiah. But it is not until you let go of the life you are clinging to, not until you lose the life that you were planning on having, that you are ready to receive His salvation.

If your life is like mine, the discovery doesn’t just happen once. You have to quit clinging and forcing. You must quit relying on your pat answers that only mask the fear and doubt hidden beneath them. You have to keep losing your life, and that will keep bringing you back to the second question, “Now, who do you say that I Am?” If you are really engaged in the Christian practice of losing your life, then that question will come to you over and over again as you wonder what and whom you are losing it for . . . and every time it is an invitation to choose your Savior.

“Who do you say that I Am?” Jesus asks. The answer, of course, is that He is the Messiah. But be careful of your answers. To confess that He is the Messiah is to admit that you are not. If you really believe your answers, the next thing you know, you will be losing the life you expected, and you will just keep losing and losing, until you see only Him. And when you have seen Him, that is when you hear the second part of the promise: That those who lose their lives for His sake will find it. Or, said another way, Life will find them.

So, who do you say that Jesus is? It is the most important question you will ever answer in your life. The irony is that you can only answer it right when you give up your life so that He might give you His.

But if you do that, there is more salvation waiting for you than you can possibly imagine, and more possibility for this church in the future that you can ever dream. It is the same Savior waiting ahead Who has been faithful in your past. When you look back at the history of this congregation, the history of the world, or of your own life, you can see the ways that Jesus was Savior. But isn't it true that Jesus seldom arrived just in the nick of time to give you what you expected? No, it was always His style to arrive, as I said just before Easter, after the nick of time had come and gone, only to do a new thing you never expected.

Like resurrection, which arrived after the cross. Like the new job, which arrived after you lost the one you wanted. Like the new relationship, which surprised you after you thought you would never love again. Like the new preacher that you will have who I am confident will startle you with new words about God.

When the new thing comes into your life, the last thing you want to do is cling to it or to the past, because it is only a matter of time before you lose that as well. I’ve said it over and over again in these three years: Salvation comes not from the things you are holding, but always and only from the Savior who is holding you.

Jesus behind us, Jesus ahead of us. He is the beginning and the end of all things, including our relationship as preacher and congregation, and of the past and future of our church. He is Alpha and Omega, our Savior and our Hope.

Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. That’s all I ever really wanted to say, and it’s all that you ever really need to know.



May 21, 2006

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