The Confession of St. Peter
Acts 4:8-13; 2 Peter 1:1-15; Mark 8:27-9:1
In the name of the Father and of the ☩ Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Peter didn’t volunteer this confession of faith. Jesus asked for it. Jesus wants to hear it.
First, He questioned the disciples, “Who do people say that I am?” (Mark 8:27). So all the options were set forward: John the Baptist, Elijah, a prophet… And we could add to those, couldn’t we? Because some say Jesus is your life-coach, or your therapist, or your boyfriend. Some say He’s a nice guy. Always kind. Never saying anything you don’t want to hear. He always agrees with your politics and your lifestyle choices. He just wants you to be happy. But the real Jesus of our text dismisses all of that. He dismisses what the world thinks of Him. And so should you. It doesn’t matter what people say. When the disciples give all the wrong confessions of what people think, Jesus doesn’t say, “Go correct them.” It doesn’t matter. He wants to hear your confession. “Who do you say that I am?” (Mark 8:29).
Think about that. Jesus is God. He doesn’t need the disciples to answer this question. He already knows what they believe. He knows their hearts. But He asks for their confession anyway. We tend to think that it should just be enough for the disciples to have faith in their hearts. And that’s what we’ve been taught. All you have to do is believe in your heart. Why isn’t that enough? Why can’t Peter just believe? Just have a heart of faith? Why ask for a confession?
Well, what does Scripture say? Romans 10: “With the heart one believes and is justified, and with the mouth one confesses and is saved” (Rom. 10:10). The two go together. Faith and confession of faith are two sides of the same coin. You simply cannot have a faith that doesn’t also appear in a confession. Even St. James tells us this, “Faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead” (James 2:17). It’s just not faith without a confession of faith. Dear saints, Jesus calls you to the good work of confessing Him. And you do.
You may not walk around saying, “Jesus is the Christ,” as Peter said here. But you do confess Him throughout your week. It’s not socially acceptable to order your days around the Divine Service, to make this your priority, but here you are. The way you care for your neighbor when they get some bad news, and you’re willing to listen to their suffering, to enter their pain, and bear their burdens, that is you re-presenting Christ to them. The way you deal with your own despair, your own sorrow, when you cry out to God, and you grieve, but you do so as one who has hope rather than allowing the darkness to overcome you. That is a confession of your faith, a confession far greater than simply raising your hand and saying, “I’m a Christian.” Because you believe the promise of the resurrection, and you act like it. Your words and your demeanor show that you really do expect Jesus to return any moment and raise your dead, restoring all of creation, drying every tear. You live as if that’s your reality because your God has promised it to you. He’s promised in blood, so you trust it. And you even look at your own death in the same vein, whereby you trust that when you close your eyes to sleep one final time, you will open them to glory. The way you handle the trials of this fallen world, the way you live, is your confession.
But you have to remember that the opposite is true as well. When you neglect God’s Word, when you spend your life trying to hold on to the things of this world as if they matter most, when you chase honor and glory, when you try to somehow stave off death at all costs, shaking your fist at God because life doesn’t go your way, well, that too will be your confession. It’s a confession that says, “The comforts of life are my god.”
And that was Peter’s problem. It’s almost strange that we commemorate the Confession of St. Peter. It occurs on January 18 every year. It doesn’t always fall on a Sunday, but it’s on the calendar of the Church Year. And it’s the only one. This is the only confession of faith celebrated in the whole Church Year. But we have many confessions of faith. Nathanael said, “Rabbi, you are the Son of God” (John 1:49). We don’t have a day for the Confession of St. Nathanael. Thomas confesses, “My Lord and my God!” (John 20:28). Martha says, “I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God” (John 11:27). We have the centurion, the Syro-Phoenician woman, the woman at the well, the soldier at the foot of the cross. Why single out this confession?
Well, this is the only one where Jesus explains what it means for Him to be the Christ, and then rebukes the person confessing their faith. Peter says Jesus is the Christ, but he does not know what that means. He thinks that the Kingdom of the Messiah will be one where the problems of this life are fixed. Peter imagines that Jesus will solve political corruption, heal every disease, raise all loved ones when they die. Every disappointment and despair will disappear. Peter simply cannot fathom that Jesus’ glory and fame are seen at the cross in shed blood and torn flesh. So when Jesus points that out, he complains and rebukes the Christ.
And that’s when Jesus calls him “satan.” After this great confession of faith, Jesus calls him “satan.” Can you imagine? How devastating that would be! When someone suggests “What Would Jesus Do?” going around calling people “satan” isn’t typically what comes to mind. But anything, anything that keeps our Lord from going to the cross to pay for the sins of the world, any talk about Jesus that is not focused on Good Friday, where you are ransomed from the depths of hell, any mention of a Savior without Him redeeming you with His own blood, is the will and work of the old evil foe. Peter’s pursuit of glory is not just a human way of thinking. It is satanic. Demanding that Jesus meet your expectations is satanic.
This should give us great pause when we assume Jesus should do what we want, answer our prayers the way we expect, give us the comforts of this life. Because we, too, have expectations. Shouldn’t the Church be a place that’s free of conflict? Shouldn’t our ailments be healed? Our diseases? Shouldn’t we be recognized for all the good we do? Look at all we’ve given and sacrificed? Shouldn’t our family get along? Shouldn’t I not have to feel such sorrow? Watch, lest you find yourself with Peter being told to get behind Jesus.
Instead, you celebrate the Confession of St. Peter, because immediately after we hear Peter say, “You are the Christ,” Jesus tells us what that means. “He began to teach them that the Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected by the elders and the chief priest and the scribes and be filled, and after three days rise again” (Mark 8:31). Look, amid your own disappointments and your own sorrows, Jesus points you to the cross. He points you, not just to His death in your place, His resurrection on the third day that assures your redemption, but in so doing, He points you to your refuge and peace in a world that’s filled with unmet expectations. Look to the cross and empty grave as your blessed repose, your rest. That is why He has come. That is what you’re promised. Not a life of ease. Not miracles. Not glory, or the praise of men. Not justice, or health, or a lack of distress.
That will all come. All of it, in the Lord’s timing, will come. But for now, you wait upon Him. For now, Jesus tells you as He told His disciples, “Take up your cross and follow me.” For now, God’s glory is hidden in suffering. His strength is found in weakness. His reign doesn’t look impressive. It looks like this: simple bread and wine by which you are fed Christ’s body and blood. Righteousness and innocence stream into your mouth, by which you confess, and your heart, by which you believe.
And that too is your confession. In fact, what greater way to confess your faith than coming to this rail week in and week out! Sure, you have unmet expectations. Still you come. You have sorrow and anxiety, and you come. You’re not well, or you grieve, you feel despairing, and still you kneel to be fed upon the medicine of immortality.
This is a confession Jesus calls out of you. He knows your faith, He knows your heart, but He calls you make confession of it. And this is how He strengthens you against your doubts and the temptations to trust the things of this world. Jesus would have you receive His life and salvation as your confession. So here, your Lord, who has suffered many things for you, been rejected by the elders and the chief priests and the scribes for you, killed for you, and after three days rose again for you, He bids you come. This is one of the greatest confessions of the Faith, to hear the words “The Body of Christ given for you,” and to simply agree, and add your “Amen.”
In ☩ Jesus’ name. Amen.
The peace of God which passes all understanding keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus. Amen.
"If God is for us, who is against us?" 