Who do you say I am? So, you are a king then?

While the following is inspired by the Biblical accounts in Mark 8:27-29 and John 18:27, I offer it to you, whatever your religious/spiritual inclination is, as something we can all reflect on.

Dear Friend

I was enjoying the beautiful morning light and its early temperatures (my favourite time of year) when, as it often does, an unexpected thought arrived.

The thought was actually a question that Jesus asked his disciples. But then, my mind, which has this wonderful habit of bringing to my awareness two or more different ideas at the same time, brought up another question, and almost gleefully said,  

Go on then, make sense of them. Together.

And given how much I love a good, cheeky invitation, I naturally accepted.

So, what were the two ideas?

Well, the first was the question that Jesus asked his disciples,

Who do you say I am?

The second was Pilate asking, or rather, accusingly challenging Jesus,

So, you are a king then?

Now, according to scholars, the events in which these questions were asked occurred between 6 months to a year of each other,

Pilate’s question happened during his interrogation of Jesus leading up to his crucifixion.

It’s a question that many Christians will be reminded of at their Good Friday liturgical service.

Now, as I thought about those questions, I realized that I had always thought of them as questions about identity.

Yet, now, as I held them in awareness, I realized that there was perhaps another, more important and meaningful dimension to them.

When Jesus asked his disciples who they thought he was, I don’t think he was necessarily being entirely curious. And I certainly don’t think he was seeking validation from them.

In fact, I don’t think he was looking for an answer. Rather, I think he was quietly turning them back to themselves…to the truth about themselves.

Imagine if I asked you that question: Who do you think I am?

You’re probably going to think of how best to respond, how to focus on my most favourable qualities and how to communicate them so you affirm rather than reject or minimize me.

But, if you were present to it, might the question prompt you to consider

How we tend to form ideas and opinions about someone?

How we settle into a particular version or impression or image we have of them 

How we tend to relate to the idea/identity we have of someone rather than to them as they are, in each moment?

And if we stay with the question even longer, might we actually begin to ask…

Where did I get this idea of them from?

Is my idea of them actually who they are?

Who is this ‘I’ that is seeing and thinking and holding this idea of them?

And now, the question that Pilate challenges Jesus with, and perhaps with some curiosity,

So, you are a king then?

Here’s what I find really fascinating: Jesus says,

You say I am a king. For this I was born into the world, to bear witness to the truth.

It’s quite a remarkable answer.

He doesn’t contradict Pilate. Nor does he agree with him. He merely reflects back what Pilate says. And then – and this is gold – he segues to… the purpose of his existence!

And, in this moment, I realize that Jesus is once again not interested in identity. Rather, he is interested in the truth.

And in asking the question of his disciples and in responding to Pilate, I find an invitation to myself…

To see…without naming or labeling

To meet another…without reducing them to my idea of who they are

To be present…without fixing myself or trying to reshape them into my version of who I or they should be

You know, it’s a beautiful invitation that, if we accept, softens us and our gaze upon another and upon ourselves…

So that we’re less preoccupied with who they should be or who we should be.

So that we allow ourselves to flow more openly, less heavily and rigidly, in the stream of eternal presence.

So that we are forever being that eternal presence rather than an identity that, on the one hand, we are so afraid of losing, and on the other, often find so limiting.

I like to think that this is how, like Jesus, we are here to bear witness to the truth.

In Love, Lucy