Peter waited for the applause, but it didn't come. Jesus had posed two important questions: “Who do the crowds say that I am? Who do you say that I am?” They were questions about his identity. And Jesus, the teacher, believed that the disciples had to come to their own conviction over time. So we can imagine the surge of anticipation in Peter when he responded, “You are the Messiah, the Christ, of God.”
Instead of praise, however, Jesus launched into the next phase of his teaching program: “The Son of Man must undergo great suffering.…” The words stopped Peter in his tracks. He had begun to comprehend the identity of Jesus; now he had to learn about a mission that included suffering (see Luke 9:18-22 NRSV).
There is much that is packed into this response of Jesus to Peter. But when Jesus says that he “must undergo great suffering,” our ears tune into the little word must. It's not the first time it is used in Luke's Gospel, nor will it be the last. Listen to some of the occasions where Jesus speaks the word:
• “Did you not know that I must be in my Father's house?” (2:49).
• “But he said to them, 'I must proclaim the good news of the Kingdom of God to the other cities also; for I was sent for this purpose' ” (4:43).
• “Yet today, tomorrow and the next day I must be on my way, because it is impossible for a prophet to be killed outside of Jerusalem” (13:33).
• “These are my words that I spoke to you while I was still with you—that everything written about me in the law of Moses, the prophets and the psalms, must be fulfilled” (24:44).
The word must carries with it a sense of necessity, even of divine necessity. Whatever else might be said about Jesus, he lived with a deep sense of responsibility. “I must….”
This language of responsibility not only jarred Peter, it doesn't sit easily with our culture. It has been argued by some that we live in a “culture of entitlement.” Is a different kind of pandemic threatening our culture, where rights have effectively displaced responsibilities?
About two years ago, the Chief Rabbi of Great Britain, Jonathan Sacks, was invited to address the opening of the European Parliament. In his speech, this religious leader said, “Rights without responsibilities are the sub-prime mortgages of the moral world.” It is important to speak of human rights, but they have little meaning without responsibilities. Without corresponding responsibilities, a preoccupation with rights runs the danger of becoming self-serving.
I sometimes wonder how this sense of responsibility was cultivated in the life of Jesus of Nazareth. Perhaps he had a paper route when he was a young boy, or perhaps his parents insisted on homework being finished before he played street hockey! All kidding aside, the above references in Luke's Gospel show that Jesus recognized a claim upon his life. He was nurtured by Israel's story. It was a story of saving grace; it was also a story that evoked corresponding responsibilities. This Saviour who embodied grace was shaped by obligation, not entitlement. “I must….”
The Church advocates for human rights. John and Charles Wesley agreed to serve the Governor of Georgia soon after their ordination. This venture failed for many reasons. The Wesleys were, however, impacted by the sight of blacks being auctioned off, even to the point of separating parent from child. In 1774, John Wesley penned his Thoughts Upon Slavery saying, “Does not an Angolan have the same natural right as an Englishman, and on which he sets as high a value? I absolutely deny all slave-holding to be consistent with any degree of natural justice.” These convictions about human rights came from a Methodist leader who had an overwhelming sense of responsibility. Holiness for the Wesleys meant to “love God and neighbour.”
William Pearson composed a song in 1882 for the opening of The Salvation Army's Congress Hall, in England, in which he invokes God's blessing on the Army. One of the verses expresses this prayer:
Bless our Army! Bless our Army!
Send us where we ought to go.
(SASB 622)
In recent days, we have responded to overwhelming need in Haiti because we must. In what other ways is God sending us where we ought to go?
Illustration: Christ Carrying the Cross, Lorenzo Lotto, 1526
Major Ray Harris is a retired Salvation Army officer. He enjoys watching Corner Gas reruns and running in Winnipeg's Assiniboine Park.
Instead of praise, however, Jesus launched into the next phase of his teaching program: “The Son of Man must undergo great suffering.…” The words stopped Peter in his tracks. He had begun to comprehend the identity of Jesus; now he had to learn about a mission that included suffering (see Luke 9:18-22 NRSV).
There is much that is packed into this response of Jesus to Peter. But when Jesus says that he “must undergo great suffering,” our ears tune into the little word must. It's not the first time it is used in Luke's Gospel, nor will it be the last. Listen to some of the occasions where Jesus speaks the word:
• “Did you not know that I must be in my Father's house?” (2:49).
• “But he said to them, 'I must proclaim the good news of the Kingdom of God to the other cities also; for I was sent for this purpose' ” (4:43).
• “Yet today, tomorrow and the next day I must be on my way, because it is impossible for a prophet to be killed outside of Jerusalem” (13:33).
• “These are my words that I spoke to you while I was still with you—that everything written about me in the law of Moses, the prophets and the psalms, must be fulfilled” (24:44).
The word must carries with it a sense of necessity, even of divine necessity. Whatever else might be said about Jesus, he lived with a deep sense of responsibility. “I must….”
This language of responsibility not only jarred Peter, it doesn't sit easily with our culture. It has been argued by some that we live in a “culture of entitlement.” Is a different kind of pandemic threatening our culture, where rights have effectively displaced responsibilities?
About two years ago, the Chief Rabbi of Great Britain, Jonathan Sacks, was invited to address the opening of the European Parliament. In his speech, this religious leader said, “Rights without responsibilities are the sub-prime mortgages of the moral world.” It is important to speak of human rights, but they have little meaning without responsibilities. Without corresponding responsibilities, a preoccupation with rights runs the danger of becoming self-serving.
I sometimes wonder how this sense of responsibility was cultivated in the life of Jesus of Nazareth. Perhaps he had a paper route when he was a young boy, or perhaps his parents insisted on homework being finished before he played street hockey! All kidding aside, the above references in Luke's Gospel show that Jesus recognized a claim upon his life. He was nurtured by Israel's story. It was a story of saving grace; it was also a story that evoked corresponding responsibilities. This Saviour who embodied grace was shaped by obligation, not entitlement. “I must….”
The Church advocates for human rights. John and Charles Wesley agreed to serve the Governor of Georgia soon after their ordination. This venture failed for many reasons. The Wesleys were, however, impacted by the sight of blacks being auctioned off, even to the point of separating parent from child. In 1774, John Wesley penned his Thoughts Upon Slavery saying, “Does not an Angolan have the same natural right as an Englishman, and on which he sets as high a value? I absolutely deny all slave-holding to be consistent with any degree of natural justice.” These convictions about human rights came from a Methodist leader who had an overwhelming sense of responsibility. Holiness for the Wesleys meant to “love God and neighbour.”
William Pearson composed a song in 1882 for the opening of The Salvation Army's Congress Hall, in England, in which he invokes God's blessing on the Army. One of the verses expresses this prayer:
Bless our Army! Bless our Army!
Send us where we ought to go.
(SASB 622)
In recent days, we have responded to overwhelming need in Haiti because we must. In what other ways is God sending us where we ought to go?
Illustration: Christ Carrying the Cross, Lorenzo Lotto, 1526
Major Ray Harris is a retired Salvation Army officer. He enjoys watching Corner Gas reruns and running in Winnipeg's Assiniboine Park.
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