Summary: A sermon for the Sundays following Pentecost, Year A, Lectionary 22

September 3, 2023

Rev. Mary Erickson

Hope Lutheran Church

Matthew 16:21-28

Can You Have Too Much of a Good Thing?

Friends, may grace and peace be yours in abundance in the knowledge of God and Christ Jesus our Lord.

Adding salt to a baking recipe enhances the final flavor in complex ways. When added to a cake, a small amount of salt doesn’t make the cake salty; it actually enhances the sweetness of the cake. The same is true for bread. Adding salt into the dough gives the bread a more well-rounded flavor. A little bit of salt boosts the flavor of jams and candies and just about any sweet thing you could make.

But just a little bit goes a long way. If your brownie recipe calls for a half teaspoon of salt, adding a tablespoon won’t make it extra delicious. You can have too much of a good thing.

Something like that was going on for Peter. Jesus had asked his disciples what people were saying about him. “Who do people say I am?” The disciples had heard several theories bantered about. Some people said Jesus was John the Baptist, back from the dead. Others identified him as the prophet Elijah, who was promised to return before the Messiah came.

Then Jesus personalized the question. “Well, how about you? Who do you say that I am?” Without missing a beat, Peter confessed, “You are the Messiah. You’re the Son of the Living God.”

Jesus affirmed what Peter said about him. “Peter, this knowledge was bestowed on you by God, not by human understanding.”

And that was all great and good. Jesus is the Messiah! Jesus is the figure Israel had yearned after for a very, very long time. And right now, Peter and his friends and all of Israel were witnessing Israel’s greatest hopes realized in their lifetime.

For centuries, Israel had waited for the Messiah. He was the descendant of King David. The Messiah would claim his throne and restore Israel to the position of respect and power they once held. Their Roman overseers would be ousted and Israel would live free.

“You are the Messiah!” Peter believed it, heart and soul. Everything he’d witnessed about Jesus led him to this point of confession.

But Jesus is going to tweak the Messiah recipe. He’s going to pump it up until it’s packed down and flowing over. Today he reveals exactly what he’s going to do when he gets to Jerusalem. He won’t be reclaiming the throne of David. He’s going to be executed. He’s going to a cross.

Peter can’t stomach it. “God forbid it, Lord! This can’t ever happen to you!”

A little bit of Messiah goes a long way. And that was just about as much Messiah as Peter really wanted. Peter wanted the superficial Messiah. He wanted the glitzy, sparkly Messiah, the Messiah that was radiating pomp and glamor.

Peter just wanted a pinch of Messiah. He didn’t want the whole shaker of salt added to the batch.

Peter wants an earthly Messiah. But what he got in Jesus was a divine Messiah. The earthly Messiah was much smaller in stature.

• The earthly Messiah was political in nature. He was focused on the welfare of Israel. But the divine Messiah was global in scope. His aim was the salvation of the world.

• The earthly Messiah was self-centered. He was concerned with his own power and stature. He lived in a ritzy palace. But the heavenly Messiah’s focus was on others. He was born in a stable. He grew up in obscurity in the backwaters of Galilee. And soon he would be buried in a borrowed grave.

• The earthly Messiah was self-serving. He ate the richest of foods and slept in the softest of beds. His armies would give their lives for his welfare. But the heavenly Messiah wasn’t self-serving; he was self-giving. He came not to be served, but to serve. Jesus did that throughout his ministry, and he would complete it in his death.

Peter wants an earthly Messiah. He wants a Messiah who is focused solely on him and the people just like him. He wants a Messiah who will grease the wheels and make life easier.

As followers of Jesus, as the church of Jesus Christ, do we ever yearn for the limited, earthly version of the Messiah? Would we prefer a Messiah who affirms and lifts us up above others? Do we want a religion that shapes our world into an image of ourselves, one that’s centered on our preferences and our sense of what’s right? Do we want an earthly Messiah who will serve us?

Peter wants an earthly Messiah. But Jesus will have none of it. “Get behind me!” he says.

Get behind me. This is Peter’s rightful place. Peter isn’t supposed to lead Jesus around. This was true for Peter, and it’s true for us. We’re not the directors of Jesus’ church on earth. We’re followers. Jesus called his disciples to follow him, and he calls us to the same following.

And we don’t follow the earthly Messiah; we follow the divine Messiah. It might seem like too much of a good thing. At first blush, like Peter, we’re not sure that we either like or want a divine Messiah. But the divine Messiah is the only one worth having. Only the divine Messiah can bring divine gifts: life eternal, reconciliation with God and our neighbor, the peace that passes all understanding, the healing of our deepest internal wounds.

These kinds of gifts come through a means that are counterintuitive to our earthly thinking. He brings these divine gifts by entering into our suffering. Jesus didn’t try to avoid our pain and brokenness. He came with a laser focus on his mission of healing. He left the eternal peace and perfection of divine eternity to enter into our frail earthly, human existence. He surrounded himself with the outcasts of society. And at the end, he was scorned and spat upon. He was condemned and died the most humiliating and excruciating means of death in his day. He was buried in a borrowed grave. And then he descended to the most godforsaken place of all, into Hell.

And there he was, and there he is. His divine presence comes to fill us where we are most empty and hopeless. This is how he heals. He enters our pain and suffering. In this way he changes our plight. His presence fills and changes these hopeless places once and for all.

Like Peter, he summons us to get behind him, to follow him in our lives, in our actions, in our hearts, on his path.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer made a distinction between what he called cheap grace and costly grace. Cheap grace is the preferred pathway of an earthly Messiah. Costly grace is the chosen pathway of the divine Messiah. He writes:

“Cheap grace is grace without discipleship, grace without the cross, grace without Jesus Christ living and incarnate. Costly grace is the treasure hidden in the field; for the sake of it, a man will gladly go and sell all that he has ... It is the call of Jesus Christ at which the disciple leaves his fishing nets and follows Jesus.”

Bonhoeffer writes further:

“Such grace is costly because it calls us to follow, and it is grace because it calls us to follow Jesus Christ. It is costly because it costs a man his life, and it is grace because it gives a man the only true life. It is costly because it condemns sin, and grace because it justifies the sinner. Above all, it is costly because it cost God the life of his Son: 'Ye were bought at a price', and what has cost God much cannot be cheap for us. Above all, it is grace because God did not reckon his Son too dear a price to pay for our life, but delivered him up for us. Costly grace is the Incarnation of God.”

Costly grace and costly discipleship. Too much of a good thing? Well, it’s the only kind worth having.