Who Do You Say That I Am?

The Question That Still Echoes

There’s a question Jesus once asked his disciples that still echoes across time:

“Who do you say that I am?” It was more than a quiz or a curiosity, it was an invitation.

Oh, not to memorize dogma because there was no Christian dogma, at that time. The invitation is to enter a living relationship with someone whose identity couldn’t be boxed in by easy answers. 

Maybe that’s where we are today, still trying to answer that question. Well, not maybe, it is where we are today. You’ve heard the phrase before, “just don’t say your beliefs, live your beliefs. The epistle of James reads, “”what good is it if people say they have faith but do nothing to show it?” So, how we answer the Jesus question reflects our faith, not just with our words, but with our lives. Not from certainty, but from sincere curiosity that maybe, just maybe, we truly do not know it all. 

We’ve inherited generations of assumptions about who Jesus is, from Sunday School felt boards, children puppet shows, revival altar calls or adult puppet shows, mass choirs and dramas, rock bands, 100 piece orchestra, and political campaigns that act like Jesus is already on their side. 

But what if our answers need to evolve as our understanding of the world and of God evolves? What if by still trying to answer that question we find a different looking Jesus or a Jesus that finally becomes real to us? Not by checking an answer box but softening a rock hard heart into one that is actually malleable.*

Jesus in His Time: History and Humanity

When Jesus asked that question, “Who do you say that I am?”, he and his disciples were in the district of Caesarea Philippi. This wasn’t neutral ground. This was Roman imperial territory, layered with symbols of power, loyalty, and fear. To call someone “Messiah” wasn’t just theological, it was dangerous and could be considered treason or, at least, inciting an insurrection. 

A current example of areas where there is not neutral ground recently occurred when a U.S.-Russian dual citizen (Zēñia Caroleena) Ksenia Karelina, a ballerina, was released from Russian prison in a prisoner exchange. She was charged with treason and sentenced to 12 years in Russian prison for donating $50 to a charity supporting Ukraine. As Russia/Ukraine is not neutral territory, neither was Caesarea Philippi for messianic talk which threatened the Roman Emperor’s fragile ego. 

Jesus was a first-century Jewish man, born under Roman occupation. His people were waiting for deliverance. For generations, they had longed for someone to rescue them from oppression. And so, expectations were high that Jesus might be this messianic king to violently or miraculously rid the land of Israel from Roman control. 

Some imagined a warrior king like David. Others envisioned a prophetic reformer like Moses. Jesus didn’t seem to fit either mold. He was healing instead of conquering. Teaching in parables instead of issuing decrees. This confused people then just like it confuses us now.

So, when Jesus asked his question, Peter blurted out, “You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God,” he was naming something powerful, but not necessarily fully understanding it. That’s what makes Jesus’ reply so striking. He didn’t say, “Finally! You got the answer right.”

He said, “Blessed are you… because this wasn’t revealed to you by flesh and blood, but by my Father in heaven.” In other words, true understanding of Jesus doesn’t come from information. It comes from revelation, over time, in relationship, through openness.*

The Problem with Reading Jesus Through Modern Eyes

The challenge for us is, we aren’t standing in Caesarea Philippi. We live in the United States of America in the 21st century. We have smartphones and streaming services, megachurches and media empires. And because we’re so far removed from Jesus’ world, it’s easy, dangerously easy, to retrofit Jesus into our own image.

We do exactly what I believe Peter did when answering the Jesus question. We say what we think the other person wants to hear. We may not believe the words coming out of our mouth, we may not understand what we said, but we want to get the answer correct.

In the U.S. A., especially, Jesus often gets wrapped in red, white, and blue. You may see the cross draped in the stars and stripes. Or you may even see marketing material abusing the image, name, and likeness of Jesus as one who is bearing an AK-47 as a super-ripped masculine American fighting machine. We’re sold versions of Jesus who endorses our politics, echoes our values, and avoids challenging our comfort. Heck, we even have a President endorsing a self-named bible that is adulterated with government documents and a secular song all in the name of “The Dollar we Trust”. My friends, all of this junk is idolatry to the highest level. It’s so easy to do as we are thousands of years removed from the source, it becomes lucrative to conform Jesus in our own image.

This is where theology and proper hermeneutics matter; in other words, a holistic interpretation of life and everything it encompasses. Our United Methodist theology helps, our modern eyes, engage with a God that is grace-filled and welcoming for all to see, love, and participate in divine righteousness through the example of Christ and the empowerment of the Holy Spirit. 

Open & Relational Theology invites our modern eyes to consider that Jesus was not a pre-scripted divine actor playing out a fixed role. He was deeply human, learning, growing, and responding to the world around him in real time, in genuine relationship with God and others. 

Process Theology reminds our modern eyes that everything, including Jesus’ own identity and understanding of his mission, unfolds over time as it never was, is, or will be unchanging. That means Jesus’ story wasn’t a static snapshot, it was dynamic movement. This means that our understanding, our modern eyes, of Jesus must move as we follow and engage with an ever moving God.*

Logos and Flesh: Holding the Mystery

In John’s Gospel, we hear this poetic and deeply mystical phrase: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God… And the Word became flesh and made his home among us.” That’s profound. But let’s not let its familiarity rob it of its edge.

John’s Gospel presents a radical revelation: it’s not about Jesus descending from the heavens fully formed and flawless, but rather about the eternal wisdom and creative energy of God manifesting in a human life. This wasn’t a sanitized existence, but rather a humble, colonized, and remote Galilean life. It was a life that had more cultural interactions with the Gentiles than those born in the urban center of Judea, which was much closer to the Temple in Jerusalem.

This Word didn’t just visit the world, it moved into the neighborhood. Everything about Jesus’ life, his birth to a scandalized teenage girl, his work as a day laborer, his friendship with outcasts, his execution by the state, testifies to a God who isn’t watching idly from above, as a deistic clockmaker, but a God who is suffering with and striving among us.

When we reduce Jesus to a theological formula or a moral mascot, we miss that mystery. When we ignore his historical context, we lose the radical edge of his love; it’s both/and, not one over the other.*

Why This Matters: For Us, Now

So what does this mean for today? It means Jesus is not a tool for our certainty or a mascot for our causes. He is a living, breathing invitation to deeper trust and transformation. He is not frozen in time, he is still speaking, still calling, still revealing through the person of the Holy Spirit.

This is why the Jesus question “Who do you say that I am?” must be answered not once, but again and again throughout our lives. Not with doctrinal bullet points, give me a break, but with curiosity. Not with rigid, fundamentalist certainties, but with open hearts willing to learn and unlearn; remember, we do not check our brain at the door when we step foot into the sanctuary of a church.

This also prepares us, my friends, for next week, when we’ll explore what Jesus meant when he spoke about salvation. Not as a ticket to heaven, as one of my good baptist clergy mentors altruistically handed out at funerals, but as the transformation of life here and now. Not just pardon for personal sins, but healing and reconciliation for broken systems, relationships, and communities.

But before we can explore how Jesus saves, we must grapple with who he is.

Because who we believe Jesus to be directly shapes how we define salvation.*

The Invitation Still Stands

So here we are. Still hearing Jesus ask, “Who do you say that I am?” Maybe the best answer we can give right now isn’t a sentence, but a posture. A posture of wonder. A posture of openness. A willingness to re-examine, to re-encounter, to let Jesus surprise us.

You might discover that Jesus isn’t who you thought, but who you’ve always needed. Not a mirror of your beliefs, but a window into God’s dream for the world. This is not a journey of deconstruction for its own sake, it’s a journey of reconstruction with love at its center.

May we keep walking this road together. Asking hard questions. Welcoming new insight. And letting Jesus, in all his mystery and context, continue to be revealed in us and through us. Amen.