That is my first response every time I read today's gospel passage (Matthew 16.13-20).
Peter is mentioned again and again throughout the New Testament, and yet we know remarkably little about his life before he met Jesus. We know he earned a living by fishing. We know he had a mother-in-law whom Jesus healed, which rather strongly suggests that he was married. But what happened to his wife? Did they have children? What happened to his family when Peter left his nets and followed Jesus?
I don't know.
And I confess that if I dwell on those questions for too long, the feminist in me begins to get rather uncomfortable. Peter apparently had the freedom to leave his livelihood and follow an itinerant teacher. Would his wife have had the same freedom? Who kept the household going? Who provided food? Who cared for ageing relatives or their children, if there were any?
Those questions are worth asking, although they are not really where I want to go today. Instead, I want to ponder one little phrase that has acquired immense significance over the centuries:
“You are Peter, and on this rock, I will build my church.”
Those few words have carried an enormous amount of theological weight.
But before going any further, a little hermeneutical aside.
I still sometimes hear people say, “But that's what the Bible says,” as though reading were simply a matter of looking at words on a page and receiving their one obvious meaning. It isn't.
Interpretation is key. Everyone interprets.
When I approach a biblical passage, I want to think about the words being used, the people who first heard them, the community for whom they were later written, the culture surrounding them, the other stories the writer has chosen to tell, and what these ancient words might mean for us now. And, most importantly, I want to resist dividing interpretations too quickly into “right” and “wrong.” The moment I decide that my interpretation must be the right one, I can very easily conclude that yours must therefore be wrong. How arrogant that would be.
But back to Peter. I love Peter. He is so delightfully human. He is impetuous and enthusiastic. He speaks before thinking. He is courageous one moment and frightened the next. Sometimes he seems to understand exactly what Jesus is saying and then, almost immediately, demonstrates that he hasn't understood at all.
Which is precisely what happened here. Peter answered Jesus' question, “Who do you say that I am?” with the extraordinary declaration: “You are the Messiah, the Child of the living God.” (16)
And Jesus responds: “You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church.” (18)
There have been centuries of debate about what exactly “this rock” means. How this passage should be interpreted. One ancient and particularly important interpretation understands Peter himself as the rock. This became central to the Roman Catholic understanding of Peter's special place among the apostles and, ultimately, the papacy. Other Christian traditions have understood the rock as Peter's confession, his recognition of who Jesus is, or have emphasised Christ as the ultimate foundation of the church.
There are complicated linguistic arguments surrounding Petros and petra in Greek and the probable Aramaic kepha. I have mentioned them in an interpretation I like that I have spoken of in the past so I’m not addressing that today.
Today, there is something else in Matthew's storytelling that fascinates me. Just five verses after, Peter’s spectacular declaration, he gets it wrong. Jesus begins talking about going to Jerusalem, suffering and being killed. Peter takes him aside and rebukes him (22). The person who has just been the rock, now hears: “Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me.” (23)
Oh Peter!
One minute, rock. The next minute, stumbling block. That is why I love Peter so much.
On Sunday of the Lammas retreat I blogged about another Peter story told earlier in Matthew that captures him beautifully. The disciples see Jesus walking on the water through the storm and Peter, with his usual enthusiasm, wants to step out of the boat. For a few extraordinary moments, he walks on water. Then he notices the wind and Peter begins to sink.
That is Peter. The one who steps out of the boat and the one who sinks. The one who declares Jesus to be the Messiah and the one who completely misunderstands what that means. The one who promises faithfulness and the one who, when the crisis finally comes, denies even knowing Jesus.
Rock and stumbling block. Courage and fear. Insight and misunderstanding. Faith and failure.
And still Jesus said, “On this rock I will build my church.”
That speaks powerfully to me today, a church, a spiritual community. was never supposed to be built from perfect people. What if Peter is important not despite his contradictions but because of them?
Peter can get it gloriously right and disastrously wrong. He can be brave and frightened, faithful and faithless. He can step onto the water and then discover that he cannot keep himself afloat.
Yet still he is called, still he belongs, still he has something to offer, still his life will make a difference. This is so encouraging. Sometimes people are expected to present themselves as faithful, certain, respectable and spiritually successful.
Peter isn't any of those things consistently. And that is really good news.
No-one needs to be perfect before being able to make a difference, no-one has to have all the answers. No-one has to pretend they never doubt, never misunderstand, never become frightened, never sink. The community Jesus is building is spacious enough for people like Peter.
Oh Peter!
Thank you for being so wonderfully, reassuringly human.
