Who do you say I am? We’d like to ask that question, wouldn’t we? We long to hear “beloved friend”, “adored spouse”, “precious family member”, and “irreplaceable, much-admired co-worker”. Nothing stings more than when people answer that sacred question by naming our faults. Our sins are not who we are. At least not to God.
Who do you say the people in your life are? I have friends who have held me up when I couldn’t stand, who have carried me when I couldn’t walk. And here’s the great truth: once someone has loved you in your helplessness, he or she will always be everything to you. It won’t matter that their kids don’t go to church, that they never got the family photo albums digitalized, that they brought take-out to the Christmas dinner. The person who catches you during the free falls of your life is everything to you, and you are theirs forever.
The crazy thing is that the ones who see us in our vulnerability love us as much as we love them. I think it’s because, in our emptiness, they have entered the broken heart of God. And that’s a very sacred place, indeed.
Jesus, the God-with-flesh-on, longs to hear from his friends who they think he is. But I think what he is really asking for is their hearts, their lives, their very selves. Who do you say I am? It wasn’t until the resurrection, the ascension and the sending of the Spirit that they finally figured it out.
Who do I say he is? The One who catches me every day. I am his.
Who do you say he is?