A Crisis of Confession

A Crisis of Confession:

Mark 8:27-38:

This pericope is the turning-point in the Gospel of Mark, or you might say the half-way point of Mark's account of Jesus' life, death and life-beyond death.

This pericope is punctured by statements and attempts to silence.

First we see Peter, as a representative of all the disciples, displaying a greater understanding of Jesus' identity by confessing that Jesus is the "messiah. (v.29b)" Immediately, though, Jesus silences Peter (v.30).

Next Jesus replaces the title "Messiah" with "Human One," & explains that his political fate is suffering, rejection, death and eventually resurrection.

Now it is Peter's turn to silence Jesus (v. 32). This description of Jesus' fate is too much for Peter. Again, though, Jesus silence's Peter (v. 33). Tragically Peter's rebuke reflects the same temptation Jesus experienced in the wilderness (Mark 1:13).

Jesus does not hesitate to describe Peter's rebuke for what it is, Satan's work and the result of setting one's mine on human things.

Finally, Jesus goes on to elucidate what it means to be a follower of the "Human One" who will suffer, be rejected, die and eventually rise. Ultimately following this Human One means accepting the entire gamut of Jesus' life, and claiming the entire gamut will mean that followers will lose their life for the sake of Jesus, or "carry their cross (v. 34)."

In the affluent North this call has often been sentimentalized or spiritualized. We should not deny that for the first followers of Jesus, and those originally hearing Mark's account, taking up a cross meant one thing: death and humiliation.

This slice of Mark's story brings up so much, but two things have always stuck with me.

First, it is so interesting that Peter is so wrapped up in the fact that Jesus will suffer, be rejected and die that he apparently misses the promise that Jesus will also rise.
Second, and this was alluded to in my quip about the wealthy North, that we, like Peter, are completely scandalized by Jesus' political fate.

These two things raise a number of questions, but the lowest hanging of the questions has to be, "how does our obsession with power hinder us from seeing the promise dwelling in the unseemly things of life?"

The Roman Catholic church has the theological paradigm, "Preferential Option for the Poor." I won't spend too much time describing this paradigm, but essentially it gives hermeneutical preference to the perspective of the poor and vulnerable.

One wonders how Jesus' description of his political fate would have sounded, not to Peter, but to those unjustly waiting execution by the cross. The same question is begged of us living in affluence, how does Jesus' description sound, not to us, but to those living on the margins.

This question is the ultimate crisis of confession.