Poor St. Peter! In last week’s Gospel, Our Lord had called Peter “blessed” for confessing him to be “the Christ, the Son of the living God” and had even declared him to be the “rock” upon whom the Church would be built. Today, however, Jesus devastates him calling him Satan! Now, not a rock for building but a stumbling block. Why such a harsh and abrupt reversal?
When Our Lord explained that he must go to Jerusalem where he would suffer greatly and die, Peter, horrified, rebuked Our Lord. God forbid that anything of sort should ever befall the Lord. Jesus’ words were entirely foreign to Peter’s understanding. Jerusalem was to be a place of glory—of a new and powerful kingdom. The Messiah was to conquer not suffer, to liberate not perish! Peter is rebuked because he had seriously misread God’s plan.
He was very far from understanding Christ’s mission. He failed to grasp a key aspect of discipleship: “Whoever wishes to come after me, must deny himself, take up his cross and follow me.”Peter had to come to a new way of thinking.
Origen, a Church Father, suggested that Jesus was saying to Peter, “You are to follow me in the way I choose, not to try to lead me in the way you would like me to go.” St. Augustine observed that Jesus called Peter, Satan, because Peter was doing the same thing Satan had done during his temptation in the desert—Satan was at it again, this time through Peter, trying to pull him off his path, his salvific mission. But unlike his treatment of the devil, Jesus does not drive Peter away. Rather, he challenges Peter to follow him and learn, as we all must, that it is an illusion to think we can follow Christ without embracing the cross.
Yet, we do our best to resist, to avoid the crosses that come our way. They could be: struggles with studies, disruptions in our plans, financial setbacks, illness, physical handicaps, depression, loneliness, addiction, family conflicts, or an abusive relationship. [I could go on, to be sure!] Like Simon of Cyrene, we often bear our crosses unwillingly!
Our challenge is not to flee the cross but to embrace it. When we do, we can discover moments of grace-filled transformation, a path to new life: Think of the blind person who develops a keen sense of listening; the recovering alcoholic who becomes a mentor to those who struggle with addiction; the parent of a special needs child who inspires others to greater love, sacrificial love; those who have known the pain of a broken or abusive relationship, becoming “wounded healers” to others.
Divine Master, You teach us that to follow You we must deny ourselves, take up our cross and carry it. It is a teaching I struggle to understand “wired” as I am to seek out comforts and pleasures. From a human perspective, the cross makes no sense. My natural inclination is to flee anything that is painful or burdensome.
So often, like St. Peter, I like to think, that I know the best way to happiness. Help me see that a disciple must not go his own way but yours. Help me to see in every cross I bear and sacrifice I make, a means of transformation—refining my soul, sharpening my senses, strengthening my will, and tempering desires—in short, to be ever faithful to your example.
