Who Do You Say That I Am?
A Catholic Homily on Matthew 16:13–20
Brothers and sisters,
There are many questions we have to answer during the course of our lives.
What am I going to do with my life?
Whom will I marry?
Where will I live?
What kind of person do I want to become?
But in today's Gospel, Jesus asks a question that is more important than all the others.
“Who do you say that I am?”
Notice how the conversation begins.
Jesus first asks the disciples, “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?”
And everybody has an answer.
Some say John the Baptist.
Some say Elijah.
Some say Jeremiah.
Others say one of the prophets.
In other words, there were plenty of opinions about Jesus.
And two thousand years later, there still are.
Some people say Jesus was a great teacher.
Some say He was a prophet.
Some say He was a moral leader.
Some admire His teachings about love and forgiveness but aren't quite sure what to do with His claims about God, salvation, sin, judgment, or eternal life.
But Jesus doesn't seem particularly interested in conducting an opinion poll.
He turns to His disciples and makes the question personal:
“But who do YOU say that I am?”
And suddenly the question changes.
Because it is one thing to know what the Church teaches about Jesus.
It is another thing to know Jesus.
It is one thing to recite the Creed:
God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God.
It is another thing to look at Jesus and say with Peter:
“You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.”
And I think every Christian eventually has to answer that question personally.
Not your parents.
Not your spouse.
Not your priest.
Not your deacon.
Not the person sitting next to you.
You.
Who do you say that Jesus is?
Because our answer changes everything.
If Jesus is simply a wise teacher, then we can listen to the teachings we like and ignore the ones we don't.
If Jesus is simply an inspirational figure, then we can admire Him from a distance.
But if Jesus truly is “the Christ, the Son of the living God,” then He cannot simply be one part of our lives.
He becomes the center.
And that is where this Gospel becomes uncomfortable.
Because sometimes our lips give the right answer while our lives give a different one.
We say, “Jesus is Lord,” but then we make our decisions as though everything depends entirely upon us.
We say, “Jesus is Lord,” but hold onto grudges He has asked us to surrender.
We say, “Jesus is Lord,” but allow money, success, comfort, politics, fear, anger, or pride to have more influence over us than the Gospel.
We say we trust Him—until trusting Him becomes difficult.
Peter's confession isn't simply something he says.
Eventually it becomes something he must live.
And so must ours.
There is something else important in this Gospel.
After Peter makes his profession of faith, Jesus says:
“You are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my Church.”
Notice what Jesus does not say.
He doesn't say, “Peter, go create your own version of Christianity.”
He doesn't say, “Everyone figure this out for yourselves.”
Jesus establishes a Church.
He gives Peter the keys of the Kingdom.
He gives authority to bind and loose.
And He makes an extraordinary promise:
“The gates of the netherworld shall not prevail against it.”
That doesn't mean the Church will never struggle.
The Church has struggled from the beginning.
Peter himself will fail.
He will deny Jesus three times.
The apostles will argue.
Christians will sin.
Church leaders will sometimes disappoint us.
There will be scandals, divisions, persecutions, and dark moments throughout history.
And yet Christ's promise remains.
“I will build my Church.”
Not Peter's Church.
Not the pope's Church.
Not the bishop's Church.
Not the priest's Church.
Not our Church.
His Church.
And perhaps that is something we sometimes forget.
The Church ultimately belongs to Jesus Christ.
And despite all the weakness of the human beings within it—including every one of us—Christ continues to work through His Church.
The Gospel continues to be proclaimed.
Children continue to be baptized.
Sins continue to be forgiven.
The sick continue to be anointed.
Men and women continue to give their lives in service.
And on altars throughout the world, Jesus Christ continues to give Himself to us in the Eucharist.
Two thousand years later, the Church is still here.
Not because Catholics have always been perfect.
Far from it.
The Church is still here because Jesus Christ is faithful.
And that brings us back to His question.
“Who do you say that I am?”
Maybe we should hear that question differently today.
Imagine Jesus standing before you.
Not before Peter.
Not before the apostles.
Before you.
And He asks:
“After everything you've experienced in your life…
after your joys and disappointments…
after your successes and failures…
after the prayers that were answered and the prayers that seemed unanswered…
after the times you were faithful and the times you wandered away…
Who do you say that I am?”
Perhaps our answer is:
“Lord, You are the Christ.
You are the Son of the living God.
You are my Savior.
You are my hope.
You are the One who forgives me when I fall.
You are the One who has never stopped calling me.
And even when I don't understand where You are leading me,
I choose to trust You.”
Brothers and sisters, Christianity ultimately isn't simply about knowing the right answers.
It is about knowing the One who is the answer.
And every morning, in one way or another, Jesus asks us again:
“Who do you say that I am?”
May we answer not only with our lips,
but with the way we love,
the way we forgive,
the way we serve,
the way we trust,
and the way we live.
And may our lives proclaim with Peter:
“You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.”
Amen.
