Jesus asks his question from within prayer. 18"as he was praying alone, the disciples were with him." He starts with the safer version. 18"Who do the crowds say that I am?" It is easy to answer, since it only requires reporting other people's opinions. John the Baptist, Elijah, one of the old prophets risen, all flattering guesses, and all wrong in the same way. Each assumes Jesus must be someone else come back, and no one has yet said he is someone new.
Then the question turns personal. 20"But who do you say that I am?" It is a direct demand for the disciples' own conviction, and Peter answers at once. 20"The Christ of God." Israel's long-awaited Messiah, standing in front of him. It is the correct answer, the one every chapter of this Gospel has been building toward, from Gabriel's announcement to every healing and confrontation since.
Yet Jesus' very next move is to forbid them from repeating it. 21"he strictly charged and commanded them to tell this to no one." The title is true, but it carries expectations of a conquering king and political liberator that Jesus is about to overturn. 22"The Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected," and be killed, and on the third day be raised. Peter has named him rightly, and Jesus immediately redefines what the right name means, correcting the shape of the crown before anyone gets attached to the wrong one.
What Jesus says next he says to all, including those outside the inner circle who confessed him: whoever would come after him must deny himself, take up his cross daily, and follow. Every listener in the first century knew what a cross meant, the Roman instrument of the most shameful public execution available, and a condemned man carried his own crossbeam to the place of his death. Jesus asks every follower to walk toward their own execution daily, in whatever form that self-denial takes for them, a rhythm repeated morning after morning, small death after small death, for as long as following him continues.
The logic underneath the hard command is paradoxical, and Jesus states it as plainly as language allows. 24"whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it." Clinging to comfort and safety is the surest way to lose everything that matters, and surrendering it for his sake is the only way to keep it. 25"what does it profit a man if he gains the whole world?" No accumulation of wealth, power, or reputation can buy back a life given to the wrong thing. And shame runs in both directions. Whoever is ashamed of him and his words, the Son of Man will be ashamed of when he comes in glory. Whatever embarrassment following Jesus costs now is temporary and reversible. The shame of having been ashamed of him will not be.
Jesus closes with a strange promise. 27"there are some standing here who will not taste death until they see the kingdom of God." It sounds as if it points far off. Within the week three of the disciples standing there will climb a mountain with him and see what he means.
What is the small death this morning asks of you? It may be a sentence you will not say or a comfort you will not reach for.
Prayer
Father, thank you for a Son who let Peter name him rightly and then taught him what that name would cost. Give us courage to deny ourselves daily, quietly and repeatedly, in whatever small deaths following you requires today. When we are tempted to save our comfort at the cost of losing what matters, remind us that whatever we surrender for your sake you have promised to give back. In Jesus' name, amen.