Pentecost +12

Ex 1.8-2.10, Rom 12.1-8. Mt 16.13-20

In Romeo and Juliet, William Shakespeare addresses the attachment that we place on names. Names, for the Montagues and Capulets, are not merely a word. It’s a family, it’s a connection, it’s a history – and, until those star-crossed lovers change things, these names are also meant to be a future.

What's in a name? that which we call a rose By any other word would smell as sweet;

Well, not exactly, loverboy!

Imagine if we saw a beautiful rose and called it “garbage” – less appealing now, isn’t it? Our minds attach different experiences and smells and memories to different words.

So – sorry Romeo – but while the idea is great, the reality is that names matter.

And this is nothing new. It wasn’t new for Shakespeare, either.

For eons, we have attached meaning to our names.

Let’s consider this first naming of Moses – note that it’s not his birth mother that names him, but Pharaoh’s daughter who ends up adopting him. Moses – or Moshe – is an adaptation of a verb that means to pull something out, or to draw something.

Not surprising then, that the babe who is drawn out of the water to be given that name. But there’s more to it, isn’t there? Because we know more about Moses. He drew out the Israelites from slavery in the land of Egypt. He drew out the best of people in sharing God’s revelation of the Ten Commandments. He drew out a long history of faith tradition from a people in the midst of a mass  crisis of faith.

Moses. He drew out faithfulness; in his time and well into the future.

          Let’s consider next the naming of Peter. When Jesus changes his name, he is not merely choosing a nickname for his friend. This isn’t a casual happenstance; this is a big deal.

Because Simon, before being a Jesus follower, has a life, and a career, and a reputation on his name. He is Simon! Honest fisherman, family man, friend, community supporter.

And Jesus says: nope. Now you’re Peter!

That’s powerful, to take someone’s name away from them, to suggest that their identity ought to be changed. It’s so powerful, in fact, that really only God can (or should) do it. It’s not a human decision to change someone else’s name.

But Jesus, having just been declared as the Messiah BY this man, says YOU ARE PETER.

Again – there’s much more to it than the 5 little letters.

The word Peter, as we know, means rock. A strong basis. A foundation.

By naming him thus, Jesus is changing his life. He is giving him a new opportunity, and a new responsibility. Because Jesus is not suggesting that a building be erected in a certain location with physical keys when he says “on this rock I build my church” – no, it all starts with Peter. YOU, Jesus says, my friend Simon, you will be the foundation and beginning of a whole new thing. You will provide the basis for a gathering of people who will devote their lives to loving God, and showing that love by loving one another. You start this: your future will be to set the tone for all churches for all time. If you forget the laws or let them loose here, they will be forever lost. If you keep and teach my commandments, they will be forever known. It’s up to you Simon – Simon the Rock, Simon Peter.

And let’s think for a moment about the keys to the kingdom – what do we use keys for? Locking the doors, right? Keeping people barricaded in and out. So the keys to the kingdom would be for the person who will decide who gets to enter and exit, right? Well – no. Not at all, actually. That’s not what Jesus means when he ‘hands over the keys of the kingdom’ to Peter. These are not physical keys to a magical location. Rather, think about this as a focal point, a main idea. The key point to this sermon is about the importance of names. The keys to the kingdom are love and peace and justice in community. These are the keys that Jesus hands to Simon Peter.

Take these, he says, know them, share them, act accordingly. May everything you do from this point reflect that you are the foundation of a community of worship.

Well now. That’s a lot of meaning to one name, isn’t it. Cephas – Peter – the rock on which the church of God rests. His entire life is now to be dedicated to being the strongest and firmest and most faithful Peter that he can be.

          Now, at the end of the passage Jesus seems to be suggesting that the reality of being part of the family should be kept quiet – he does tell his disciples not to tell anyone who he is.

Well, sort of. He instructs them not to tell them that he is the Messiah. Again, a powerful word – a name that carries meaning beyond our imagination. The Son of the Living God. The very real, very tangible presence of the Creator of all time and space – here in front of us!

Had word gotten out, people may have flocked to him merely because he was a celebrity. People may have prevented him from doing his ministry. People may have entirely missed the message and the teaching, because of a name.

And so they are asked to keep the name – the reality – to themselves for a time.

I think this partly reflects Jesus’ respect for tradition, and for the faith. The name of God is powerful, it is life changing, it is profound. It was so revered in biblical times that no one would dare try and say it, nor try to contain it. Even the letters G-O-D were minimised – to this day many Jews, and Christians, will write the letter with a dash in place of the O, lest it be construed as an attempt to make the name of God normal or commonplace or casual.

The name of God embraces the mystery of God. And the mystery is so extreme that it astonishes all. It’s no wonder that Jesus wants that reality kept quiet for a time (not forever, please note – just for a time.) He wanted people to learn who he was by his actions, not by a name. He invited people to dwell in the delight of his truth, even when it was not what others might expect of him.

And let’s consider also the start of that conversation – I love it when Jesus asks a question, it encourages thought and reflection that are timeless and meant for all hearers and readers to ponder.

Who do others say that Jesus is? It’s a name that’s been making a few more headlines lately in the political reporting, that’s for sure. So who do people say that Jesus is – and does that reflect the Jesus of the Gospels, the Jesus of the apostle’s teachings? Hmm. Much to ponder.

Closer to home, who do WE say that Jesus is? Does our speaking of Jesus reflect the Gospel truth? Are our actions influenced by this reality? Again, much to ponder.

And let’s take this one step further.

Imagine if we asked the same questions, of ourselves.

Who do other people say that WE are – as individuals, as families, as communities? There’s lots of roles that we play: sibling, parent, teacher, friend, neighbour, customer, etc. We have different relationships with different people, and share different characteristics with different groups. But we’re all part of the same body, as Paul shared. Do we live our lives in such a way that people know us – in whatever capacity – as Christians? Hmm.

And extrapolating that, who do we say we are ourselves? How do we show the world who we are? Because we are children of God. We are named and claimed as God’s family in our baptism: the service of holy baptism starts with the family and sponsors intentionally naming the person to receive the sacrament. It’s relationship, and we renew that baptismal relationship every time we worship. Ideally, we demonstrate that relationship in every interaction we have. So our challenge is to consider if our actions and intentions that we show the world align with our witness as beloved children of God.

It’s a challenge, an opportunity, and a privilege. Every day, every moment, we are invited to know that we are part of the continual and continuous building of God’s kingdom. Upon us the kingdom is built. So consider your name. You - *enter your name here* - have had your name spoken aloud in heaven. YOU are named as foundational in the church of God. You are named as beloved. You are named as important. You are named in the mystery that transcends.