Just who do you think you are?

Just who do you think you are?

Does anyone make it through life without having some impassioned person ask them that question? Whether it’s asked by a teacher or a parent, a colleague who disagrees with you, or just a pushy bully, it’s a question that stops you in your tracks, or tries to anyway.

Suddenly you’re vulnerable. Your identity is hanging out there in the air. Undefined. Challenged. Waiting.

Do you ever hear anyone say the opposite?

Just who do you think I am?

The one who asks this question is opening him-or-herself up for whatever may come. Unarmed. But still strong, confident... while his/her identity is floating in space, waiting for someone to snatch it up, take a look, make a comment.

There’s a great story of Jesus’ teaching exploits (click on the title of this post to read the passage) in which he invites his students to take a swipe at his identity. He takes them out for a walk, about a 16 mile walk, from the safety of home turf into the eeriness of the enemy’s land, where strange gods are worshiped in strange ways. And your God is nowhere to be seen, or so it seems.

Just who do you think I am? comes the question, from Rabbi Jesus to his walking-buddy students. Star pupil Peter grabs the chance to define the one he follows: You’re the messiah, Jesus, the one who’s saving us. You're the one who connects us to the living God!

Peter’s got it exactly right. He’s so right that Jesus is sure that God’s own voice is speaking through Peter, that Peter couldn’t possibly have done it on his own.

But the mood of the moment abruptly shifts when Jesus starts saying exactly what it means to be the messiah of the living God. Talk about vulnerability… Being identified as the messiah is not a power trip at all. It means giving up power, at least the way that the world thinks of power.

It means loving till it hurts, giving yourself away completely, being so connected to the all-giving God that you’d do anything to get others connected. Even if that means suffering, dying, and relying totally on God to raise you back up. Peter doesn’t deal well with this. He wants to define Jesus’ identity in his own way: plugged into God’s power but protected from the dangers Jesus sees coming. Peter eventually figures it all out, but for now, he’s left hanging. His own identity as Jesus’ follower has been shaken. But sometimes you need to have your assumptions shaken, on the road to figuring out who you are.

Teacher Jesus, I ask you today: Who do you think I am? How do you see me fitting into your scheme of things? Give me some clues, open my eyes, show me who I am and how I can be your follower. Pour your power into me, so I can love the world you so love. Give your life to me, so I can give my life to others.

~ Kari Henkelmann Keyl