"Identity Crisis"
8-24-14 (Proper 16/Ordinary 22 A, Semi-Continuous)
Exodus 1:8-2:10; Matthew 16:13-20
Identity Crisis
Identity is a huge deal in the Bible. And it’s interesting to note the various ways in which people’s identities play a significant role throughout the scriptures. Stories of mistaken identity, false identities, and even new identities are crucial defining moments in the story of the Bible. People and places are give names, or even given new names, that have particular meaning and significance to a major event or situation. Abram and Sarai are changed into Abraham and Sarah to be the parents of a multitude. Sarah names her son Isaac because she laughed when God told her she would have a child in her old age. Jacob is renamed “Israel” because he wrestles with God.
So when we enter into this new chapter of the biblical narrative, it’s natural that identity once more plays a defining role here. Joseph and all his father’s household become established in Egypt - but as time passes, they seem to fade into the backdrop of history. So when there’s suddenly a new Pharaoh in town at the start of Exodus, this king doesn’t know who Joseph was, and so the people of Israel who have flourished and multiplied over the years start to look like a pretty big threat to him. Whether because he is truly ignorant of who Joseph was and what Joseph did for Egypt, or whether it’s because he chooses to ignore Joseph’s history out of fear of the number of his descendants in the here and now, Pharaoh lets his own fears and prejudices influence his decisions and subjects the Israelites to slavery, forced labor, abuse, and eventually genocide.
But in the middle of this story of forgotten identity and racial fear, there’s a second story at work. As Pharaoh comes to the realization that slavery is doing nothing to quell the baby boom among the Israelites, he turns to some dastardly “family planning” to accomplish his purposes, instead. This is where we meet Shiphrah and Puah, the Hebrew midwives. Right away we should know that these two women are incredibly important to the story - they’re actually given names. That’s a major statement, because they’re the only ones in this story who are actually named, besides Moses. Pharaoh, his daughter, Moses’ mother and father… none of them have names. But these two midwives, who have the courage and faith to act against Pharaoh’s fears and abuses, are so important that the Scriptures take the time to tell us who they are, and why they are so important: the midwives feared God. Whether the midwives remembered Joseph or not, they had nevertheless inherited from him a tradition of faith and knew their identity in God so well that they were strong enough to stand against Pharaoh, to continue birthing both girls and boys for the Hebrew people, and to ensure that their people continued to thrive. And it’s that kind of strength and courage that gets them such honorable mention in the book of Exodus where no one else is acknowledged.
So as we then hear Jesus asking his disciples the question, “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?” We understand a bit more about how important identity is, both for people in Jesus’ culture and for Jesus himself. Jesus has felt the tension over and over again - the Pharisees have challenged him at every turn of the corner. His own disciples have questioned him again and again, despite seeing amazing things from him every time. He’s fed multitudes, faced challengers, and tried to teach people who seem bound and determined to not get what he’s teaching them. And so Jesus poses them a question that lies at the very heart of the Gospels. As he asks them in this conversation who people say that he is, he’s not just chatting with the disciples; he’s also challenging them to give definition to their own discipleship and to affirm what it is that they are going about. As he asks them what others say, he gets them to evaluate the different pictures that people have painted of him, of the Son of Man - who do people say that he is? The disciples have a multitude of answers: “Well, some say that you are John the Baptist brought back. Others say you’re Elijah, or Jeremiah, or one of the other prophets.” And then Jesus hits with the 1-2 punch. OK… but who do you say I am?
Simon Peter is the first to answer - he usually is - but I wonder if even Peter paused for a moment, carefully considering how to answer this question upon which the entire rest of the Gospel hinges. Who is Christ? Who is this person who has walked on water, cured the sick, forgiven the sinner, and invited us to do the same? Who do I believe this person to be, truly? Simon Peter’s answer is the first confession - “You are the Messiah, the Son of the Living God.” And out of that confession, Simon, son of Jonah, is given a new identity, a new name, by Christ - he’s no longer just Simon Peter, but Peter, Cephas, the Rock upon which Christ intends to build his church.
The story is shaped through identity - Pharaoh forgets Joseph and lets his own fear shape the identity of the Hebrew people, eventually leading to his own downfall as Moses is raised up from the waters. Puah and Shiphrah let their identity as Hebrews and as people of God shape their actions, standing up to Pharaoh and receiving recognition in the Scriptures as exemplary women of faith. Peter gives his confession, letting the Spirit guide him to see Christ’s true identity, and from that statement, Peter becomes the anchor, the rock upon which Christ’s church is built - Christ is the Messiah, the Son of the Living God.
This matter of identity truly does run throughout the entirety of Scripture - and it’s because, perhaps most importantly of all the things we see in the whole of the Bible, there’s a matter of identity that shapes the very core of our belief. It shaped the Hebrew tradition, both in thought and deed. It shapes how we define ourselves today, as Christians, as Protestants, as Presbyterians and members of our individual congregations. And yet the question still echoes for us today as strongly as it did to the early disciples as Jesus asked it, because we still have to wrestle with it every day in our walk: Who do we say that Jesus is? And who are we in light of that confession, ourselves?
What is it about this wandering Galileian that still compels us to follow him today? What is it that we still find in him, nearly two thousand years later, that continues to shape and mold us, to push us forward, and to keep us proclaiming his Gospel?
The answer is simply - “He is the Messiah, the Son of the Living God.” And in that man, we find our own identity - as we recognize the profound reality that the Almighty, Creator God deemed us of such value and worth that God became flesh for our sakes, as we accept that in the wholly divine, wholly human life of Christ, all of humanity is also lifted up before God and presented as wholly acceptable… we, too, are given a chance at a new identity, formed solely in Christ. We are given new names as accepted and loved children of God, called into participation in the mission and work of Christ, and transformed into the people whom God is calling us to be. And as we live out our lives, shaped by our new identity in Christ, we proclaim our own confession to the world, telling others who we believe Christ is - and hopefully, we can help others find their identity through Him, as well. To God be the Glory. Amen.
Exodus 1:8-2:10; Matthew 16:13-20
Identity Crisis
Identity is a huge deal in the Bible. And it’s interesting to note the various ways in which people’s identities play a significant role throughout the scriptures. Stories of mistaken identity, false identities, and even new identities are crucial defining moments in the story of the Bible. People and places are give names, or even given new names, that have particular meaning and significance to a major event or situation. Abram and Sarai are changed into Abraham and Sarah to be the parents of a multitude. Sarah names her son Isaac because she laughed when God told her she would have a child in her old age. Jacob is renamed “Israel” because he wrestles with God.
So when we enter into this new chapter of the biblical narrative, it’s natural that identity once more plays a defining role here. Joseph and all his father’s household become established in Egypt - but as time passes, they seem to fade into the backdrop of history. So when there’s suddenly a new Pharaoh in town at the start of Exodus, this king doesn’t know who Joseph was, and so the people of Israel who have flourished and multiplied over the years start to look like a pretty big threat to him. Whether because he is truly ignorant of who Joseph was and what Joseph did for Egypt, or whether it’s because he chooses to ignore Joseph’s history out of fear of the number of his descendants in the here and now, Pharaoh lets his own fears and prejudices influence his decisions and subjects the Israelites to slavery, forced labor, abuse, and eventually genocide.
But in the middle of this story of forgotten identity and racial fear, there’s a second story at work. As Pharaoh comes to the realization that slavery is doing nothing to quell the baby boom among the Israelites, he turns to some dastardly “family planning” to accomplish his purposes, instead. This is where we meet Shiphrah and Puah, the Hebrew midwives. Right away we should know that these two women are incredibly important to the story - they’re actually given names. That’s a major statement, because they’re the only ones in this story who are actually named, besides Moses. Pharaoh, his daughter, Moses’ mother and father… none of them have names. But these two midwives, who have the courage and faith to act against Pharaoh’s fears and abuses, are so important that the Scriptures take the time to tell us who they are, and why they are so important: the midwives feared God. Whether the midwives remembered Joseph or not, they had nevertheless inherited from him a tradition of faith and knew their identity in God so well that they were strong enough to stand against Pharaoh, to continue birthing both girls and boys for the Hebrew people, and to ensure that their people continued to thrive. And it’s that kind of strength and courage that gets them such honorable mention in the book of Exodus where no one else is acknowledged.
So as we then hear Jesus asking his disciples the question, “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?” We understand a bit more about how important identity is, both for people in Jesus’ culture and for Jesus himself. Jesus has felt the tension over and over again - the Pharisees have challenged him at every turn of the corner. His own disciples have questioned him again and again, despite seeing amazing things from him every time. He’s fed multitudes, faced challengers, and tried to teach people who seem bound and determined to not get what he’s teaching them. And so Jesus poses them a question that lies at the very heart of the Gospels. As he asks them in this conversation who people say that he is, he’s not just chatting with the disciples; he’s also challenging them to give definition to their own discipleship and to affirm what it is that they are going about. As he asks them what others say, he gets them to evaluate the different pictures that people have painted of him, of the Son of Man - who do people say that he is? The disciples have a multitude of answers: “Well, some say that you are John the Baptist brought back. Others say you’re Elijah, or Jeremiah, or one of the other prophets.” And then Jesus hits with the 1-2 punch. OK… but who do you say I am?
Simon Peter is the first to answer - he usually is - but I wonder if even Peter paused for a moment, carefully considering how to answer this question upon which the entire rest of the Gospel hinges. Who is Christ? Who is this person who has walked on water, cured the sick, forgiven the sinner, and invited us to do the same? Who do I believe this person to be, truly? Simon Peter’s answer is the first confession - “You are the Messiah, the Son of the Living God.” And out of that confession, Simon, son of Jonah, is given a new identity, a new name, by Christ - he’s no longer just Simon Peter, but Peter, Cephas, the Rock upon which Christ intends to build his church.
The story is shaped through identity - Pharaoh forgets Joseph and lets his own fear shape the identity of the Hebrew people, eventually leading to his own downfall as Moses is raised up from the waters. Puah and Shiphrah let their identity as Hebrews and as people of God shape their actions, standing up to Pharaoh and receiving recognition in the Scriptures as exemplary women of faith. Peter gives his confession, letting the Spirit guide him to see Christ’s true identity, and from that statement, Peter becomes the anchor, the rock upon which Christ’s church is built - Christ is the Messiah, the Son of the Living God.
This matter of identity truly does run throughout the entirety of Scripture - and it’s because, perhaps most importantly of all the things we see in the whole of the Bible, there’s a matter of identity that shapes the very core of our belief. It shaped the Hebrew tradition, both in thought and deed. It shapes how we define ourselves today, as Christians, as Protestants, as Presbyterians and members of our individual congregations. And yet the question still echoes for us today as strongly as it did to the early disciples as Jesus asked it, because we still have to wrestle with it every day in our walk: Who do we say that Jesus is? And who are we in light of that confession, ourselves?
What is it about this wandering Galileian that still compels us to follow him today? What is it that we still find in him, nearly two thousand years later, that continues to shape and mold us, to push us forward, and to keep us proclaiming his Gospel?
The answer is simply - “He is the Messiah, the Son of the Living God.” And in that man, we find our own identity - as we recognize the profound reality that the Almighty, Creator God deemed us of such value and worth that God became flesh for our sakes, as we accept that in the wholly divine, wholly human life of Christ, all of humanity is also lifted up before God and presented as wholly acceptable… we, too, are given a chance at a new identity, formed solely in Christ. We are given new names as accepted and loved children of God, called into participation in the mission and work of Christ, and transformed into the people whom God is calling us to be. And as we live out our lives, shaped by our new identity in Christ, we proclaim our own confession to the world, telling others who we believe Christ is - and hopefully, we can help others find their identity through Him, as well. To God be the Glory. Amen.
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