Who Do You Say I Am

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“Who Do You Say I Am? “

Rev. Stephen Milton

Lawrence Park Community Church

Sept 15, 2024

In today’s scripture reading, Jesus asks a famous question: “who do you say I am?” It is in many ways the most important question that can be asked in our faith. Christians are followers of Jesus. Who we think Jesus is determines what our faith will be. If Jesus is God, then we owe Him all our loyalty since we were made by God. If Jesus was just a regular man who said some wise things long ago, then he’s no different from other sages like Socrates, Confucius, and Gandhi. Or, if we think that Jesus is basically fictional, largely made up by his followers, then we can safely ignore most of what he has to say. So, it matters a lot how we answer that question, “Who do you say I am?”

I suspect that for most of us here, the answer to that question is that Jesus is our moral leader. He is the one who shows us how to live a caring and compassionate life, in an ethical way. That’s why we come to church, something I spoke about in last week’s sermon. 

But the idea that Jesus is primarily a moral teacher, a moral messiah, is actually a relatively modern way of seeing Jesus. This past summer, I spent three weeks in Rome studying early Christian art. And in those places, I saw a very different answer to the question “Who do you say I am?”

The reason I love Christian art is that it shows Christians trying to make sense of the messages they hear in scripture by giving it visual form. It’s one thing to say that Jesus is the Messiah. But what did that messiah look like? Should he be depicted scowling? Should the tragedy of his death on the cross colour all depictions of him? Or should he be smiling? Pictures reveal how people felt and understood Jesus’s mission on Earth. They help answer that question, “who do you say I am?”

The earliest depictions of Jesus appear in the Roman catacombs. These were underground burial places that were outside the city walls. Christians painted pictures onto the walls of their tombs. Here’s what we find on those walls: 

And when they depicted Jesus, he was often shown symbolically, as a Good Shepherd. This was inspired by that famous line from the Gospel of John, “I am the good shepherd.” The sheep he is guarding in these images represent human souls.

However, Jesus is also surrounded by birds and vines, as well. He is embedded in nature in these catacombs. They could have represented him as soldier or guard protecting human souls. Instead, he is surrounded by nature.

This natural imagery continues as time goes by. One hundred years later, in the 300s, Christianity is legalized by the Roman empire. That allows Christians to build the first churches. 

Here’s a basilica built in the 300s, called San Sabina. 

The priests conducted services at the front behind a sort of stone fence called chancel screens.

Those screens were decorated with crosses. But the crosses are surrounded by natural imagery. Trees grow beneath the cross’s arms. Inside the crosses, vines grow. The cross on the right-hand side has symbols of the sun and moon. 

This imagery is everywhere in early Christian buildings. In addition to going to Rome I also visited Naples. In the Duomo cathedral, there is the oldest room in the Western world for conducting baptisms.  

The floor has a deep pool for baptizing adults. When they came out of the water, they looked up on a domed ceiling, full of bible scenes. 

A lot of it has fallen away over the centuries. But what remains is filled with nature.

There is a scene of deer drinking from fountains, an allusion to psalm 42.

There are peacocks and birds among plants, in a vision of natural plenty. When these early Christians wanted to speak about faith, they couldn’t do it without also showing nature.

This imagery is not just decorative. It visualizes a central idea about who Jesus is.  In the opening of the Gospel of John, we are told that the one who will become Jesus helped God create the world and all of nature:

1 In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2 He was in the beginning with God. 3 All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being 4 in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. (John 1)

John’s gospel starts with the idea that everything that is alive was made through the one who we call Jesus. To these early Christians, Jesus is not just a moral Messiah, but nature’s Messiah as well. Jesus made nature.  Early Christians believed that when Jesus was baptized, his first act of ministry was to sanctify the Jordan River, before he did anything for human beings. Indeed, right after Jesus is baptized, he doesn’t start teaching people. Instead, he goes into the desert for forty days where he is among wild animals. Jesus went to nature first, then human beings. 

The idea that Jesus may be Nature’s creator and Messiah is important for how nature is perceived. If nature was made by Jesus, then it is not random or cruel in its design. It will reflect the values of its creator, who teaches compassion at every turn. 

This influenced how early Christians saw nature. I’d like you now to hear how they understood nature. I have asked the choir to help us hear the words of Clement, a bishop in Rome in the late first century. This is part of a prayer he wrote. Laura Lane will read the words. 

The fruitful earth, according to God’s will, brings forth food in abundance, at the proper seasons, for man and beast and all the living beings upon it, never hesitating, nor changing any of the ordinances which God has fixed. 

…. The vast unmeasurable sea, gathered together by The Lord’s working into various basins, never passes beyond the bounds placed around it, but does as God has commanded. For God said, ​"​ Thus far shall you come, and your waves shall be broken within you. ​"​ …

The seasons of spring, summer, autumn, and winter, peacefully give place to one another. The winds in their several quarters fulfil, at the proper time, their service without hindrance. The ever-flowing fountains, formed both for enjoyment and health, furnish without fail their breasts for the life of men. 

The very smallest of living beings meet together in peace and concord. All these the great Creator and Lord of all has appointed to exist in peace and harmony; while God does good to all, but most abundantly to us who have fled for refuge to God’s compassions through Jesus Christ our Lord, to whom be glory and majesty for ever and ever. Amen. 

The early Christians did not imagine a hostile universe. They saw all of nature obeying Christ, who made it at the beginning of time. Stars obey by rotating in the sky. Whales and fish, bears and rabbits know what to do because the son of God made them in a way that keeps all species alive. The Christians imagined a benevolent universe, with Jesus as its messiah.

When I first announced that I was going to Rome to see early Christian art, a number of you made suggestions about where I should go. Bonnie MacLachlan told me I simply had to visit the basilica of Saint Clement. It is named after the man who wrote the beautiful words we just heard. 

I visited it on a really hot day, 36 or 37 degrees, so it was nice to just enter a cool place. But after exploring a bit, I sat down and marveled at the mosaic on the domed roof.

This mosaic was made about 1000 years after the prayer we just heard. So, around the year 1100. And it is gorgeous. In the center is Jesus on the cross, surrounded by a golden heaven. But what is remarkable is how he is surrounded by nature.

On the cross there are doves. Above him, we can see the hand of God with a vine. 

At the foot of the cross, there is a tree of life. Four rivers flow out of it, where deer drink. But most importantly, there are vines of life which spiral out in every direction from the base of the cross.

The vines spiral outward, joining with little scenes of people in everyday life. The mosaic shows Jesus as the source of life both nature and human, a messiah for nature and humanity.

But, as we know, this vision of Jesus does not last. In the modern age, with the enlightenment, a different idea was introduced. Nature is seen as dangerous. We came to believe that we are at war with nature, that it must be subdued. 

The answer to the question of “Who do you say I am?” changed. Jesus became the moral messiah, relevant only to humans. Nature was created long ago by God, then abandoned, left for us to do whatever we wanted. The idea that nature was also precious to Christ, and animated by Christ, was set aside. Jesus became only a moral messiah.

But in the face of climate change and the devastation of the natural world, theologians have been reconsidering their view of Jesus and nature. In the last few decades, theologians have been reconsidering our spiritual relationship with nature. Some, like the late Sallie McFague, have suggested that nature is God’s body. What we do to nature is what we are doing to God. Others have suggested that we reconsider our relationship with other creatures. In the seven days of creation, they were made first, and we came last. God pronounced each day of creation good, long before we were created. We would be better off considering animals as fellow travellers in this life, rather than inferiors. God cares about us both and may have separate plans for the animals. They may have their own part to play in this evolving universe. 

What we think is sacred determines what we consider worth saving, and what we consider expendable. When Jesus asked, “who do you say I am?”, it still matters how we answer. All of creation is now crying out for humans to realize that we are not the only holy ones. They need us to wake up and realize that all forms of life matter and are loved by God. AI and technology cannot tell us what is sacred. As Christians, this is a good time to remember that we started out believing that Christ cared not just for humans, but for all creatures under the sun. The question “Who do you say I am?” is more important than ever.

Amen.