Watch my back
Matthew 16.21-28
Poor Peter. Just a few verses before, he got it so right. “You are the Messiah” he declared. He gave Jesus the highest title that he could think of for a human being – the Messiah, the Christ, God’s anointed and chosen one, the saviour of Israel. And now, Jesus calls him ‘Satan’. It’s hardly a fair exchange and is one of those moments in the gospels when, if we really think about it, Jesus’ words shock. Here is one of his closest friends, his most loyal follower – and one who is destined to be a leader in the church – and he calls him the worst thing that he can think of – Satan, the essence of all that is evil.
The tradition is that Satan himself is a fallen angel. One of God’s retinue, a courtier of heaven, turned bad. John Milton creates one of literature’s greatest anti-heroes based on that idea, in ‘Paradise Lost’. Even the most heavenly creatures can make poor choices, it seems. Even those closest to God can get it wrong. It should be no surprise to us, as we hear that everyone from television presenters to charity workers, film stars to captains of industry, really do have feet of clay. Sometimes Christians are accused of being too negative about human beings, we’re told we put too much emphasis on sin, but every day the news programmes remind us of the frailty of humankind. We’re good at getting it wrong - and we probably get it wrong about as often as we get it right.
If Jesus intended to shock Peter, his words were a wake-up call. If we have to choose between being children of the light and children of the darkness, choose between good and bad, white and black, then Jesus is clearly saying ‘choose me’ or, as he goes on to say, ‘follow me’. There is, he says here, a clear choice – between ‘divine things’ and ‘human things’. What do we want to be occupied with? Are you ‘setting your mind’, as Jesus says, on God’s priorities, or the priorities of the world? Which do we choose?
For it is a choice – Jesus reminds Peter, as Paul will later remind the readers of his letters, that we have a choice about what we fill our minds with. But maybe we should put in a word for Peter here. Jesus has just spoken as clearly as he ever will about his own suffering, rejection, death and resurrection. Setting aside that last point, it is as if Peter has just heard his friend and teacher say that he has been given a terminal prognosis. ‘I’m going to die – soon’, he says. What would your reaction be to that? Well, amongst the recognised responses to such a prognosis, according to the work of Elizabeth Kubler- Ross and others, are denial and anger. Peter rebuked Jesus. “God forbid it, Lord!... This must never happen to you!” Of course, Peter responds selfishly – he doesn’t want to lose Jesus; he probably responds fearfully – what Jesus suggests sounds terrifying. But these are very normal, understandable, human responses.
Which is exactly why Jesus has to be so clear in his reprimand. Maybe Jesus was tempted, as he had been in the wilderness. Here, in the shape of human kindness, in the urging of a friend, in the love of a close companion, is a temptation that it is hard to resist. Sometimes the wrong things come dressed up looking so right. The strength of Jesus’ outburst may reflect the power of his own inner turmoil. Think of Gethsemane. But for Peter and for us it is also a salutary warning to notice our own struggles, our own temptations. We all have feet of clay, we are all vulnerable and apt to stray.
But the invitation is to follow, to stay focused. In saying ‘Get behind me, Satan’, Jesus uses the same Greek word as he does a few verses later when he speaks to those who want to follow him. Peter’s correct place is to be behind Jesus – following him – led by him and also, in a real sense, protected by him.
The verses that follow make it clear that the call to discipleship – the call to follow Jesus – is a call to take the same risks as he did. Jesus’ followers, and Matthew’s readers, were facing very real challenges to their life and liberty because they dared to follow Jesus. Taking up the cross was a literal thing for many of them, not a metaphor for spiritual discipline or Lenten sacrifice. And it is worth us remembering that there are Christians today who risk their lives by daring to follow Jesus. What do we risk?
Whatever the challenges we might face, whatever the sacrifices we might be called on to make, all of this is only bearable if we keep our eyes fixed on Jesus. And, in this case, not gazing into his eyes in adoration and worship, but focused on his back, walking in his steps, in the true place of a disciple.