But Who Do You Say That I Am?

Footnote Jesus. That's how many of us know Jesus. We know him through a learned priest's homily, through a Bible reading guide, through movies, through casual strangers, through preachers that ride on the bus, through prayer leaflets, through Hollywood. And many times Jesus has been likened to a real estate agent's flyer: He does this, He does that. He gives this and that. If you take Him, He will make you _________ (please fill in the blank legibly).

Jesus has become a product to purchase, a line to commit to memory, a spam that we cannot delete. Who do you say that I am, asked He. Yet even his closest friends were at lost at answering him. Who is this guy really? Well, for one he is John's cousin. He is the carpenter's son. He performs practical magic. He associates with crooks and shameful people. No one seemed to know who He really was. So like a teacher who did not want to be embarrassed in front of his class, He called on his favorite (and presumably) brightest student.
Peter, who do you say that I am? By golly, You are the Messiah, the Son of God. Came down from Heaven to save us. And Jesus was pleased, only to later on learn that Peter simply browsed through a brochure advertising Jesus. We know what happened.

For this week, I want to reflect on the same question that Jesus asked his disciples some two thousand years ago: But who do you say that I am. Who was Jesus for me? Who is He? Who will He be?