The blood is always human blood

During this morning’s Zoom Eucharist, we joined in a shared homily reflecting on the Gospel reading. I am often both humbled and grateful as Christians gather to reflect upon the Scriptures. Today’s story set in Caesarea Philippi naturally moved us into the political life of our nation. There was anger, fear and hope. There was the church’s insistence that all must begin, and be grounded upon, prayer.

And underlying it all is Jesus’ invitation to trust that God’s love has given us the Church, “and the gates of Hades will not prevail against it.” Much the same as John’s incarnation claim,” The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.”

Later I read the Daily Reflection of Bishop Peter Eaton.  I’ll share a bit of that here.

Here Jesus and the disciples walked about, and here Jesus asked his famous questions today: “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?” and “Who do you say that I am?” 

We do not understand the full force of these questions unless we understand that Jesus is surrounded by the shrines of the many gods that vied for the allegiance of the women and men of the time.  And when we can imagine the context of Jesus and his disciples, we realise that it is, at one level, no different from our own.  For we, too, are surrounded by a range of gods and idols who beckon us, and who can so easily lead us astray, even without our noticing.

A political campaign season is a time with the rival gods of our culture are particularly at war, with each other and with real religion.   We are bombarded with competing plans for salvation and quick fixes on the road to a range of utopias.  This is not to disparage our political process or sound government, which are crucial to the well-being of our society; nor is it to belittle our remarkable cultural life and the immense richness of all that makes for true human community.  It is simply to acknowledge that it can be easy to forget that our political institutions – and every other aspect of our common life - are always, as William Stringfellow liked to say, under the judgement of the Word of God.  At Caesarea Philippi, in addition to shrines to gods like Pan, there was almost certainly a shrine to the divine emperor, too.

Who do you say that I am?

We must not forget Saint Peter’s answer, for it is our answer.  And in making his answer our own, there are consequences not only in the way we act, but in the way we conceive of the world and all that is going on around us.  We live every day in a modern Caesarea Philippi, surrounded by all kinds of deeply alluring gods who whisper into our ears, or clamour in a loud voice.   Some are harmless; but some can do, and actually do, real damage.  Metropolitan Anthony Bloom once summed up the problem in this way:

Whenever we move from…concern about [human beings] onto concerns about things, we make things - it may be ideals, ideologies, world outlooks - into an idol, and there is no idol that doesn't claim blood. And [the] blood is always human blood - it will always be men and women and children that will have to pay the cost of it.

Grant, O merciful God, that your Church, being gathered together in unity by your Holy Spirit, may show forth your power among all peoples, to the glory of your Name

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