ROCK (Part One)

Rock

(a three-part homiletical monologue)

Part One

(word count: 1077)

I don't know what to think. I love him. I don't understand him. Who is he? One minute I swear I know, the next minute I have no idea. Maybe I have a demon in me driving me insane. God help me. I feel as sure and dependable as sand.

I do love him. I know that. I cling to that, cling to my love for him.

I also know that he has changed me forever. He started changing me three years ago, when we first met. I had just docked our boat. Andrew and I had a net full of carp, all shiny, wriggling and flipping. It was a huge catch. Business was good.

Then he came walking along the shore. He was muscular, dark-skinned, with large, rugged hands. His eyes were dark and intense. He came walking up to us. Andrew and I dropped our net. He waved. He called out, “Hey, you guys. Come on. Drop everything. Follow me, and I'll teach you how to do some real fishing. I'll teach you to fish for people.”

We heaved the net back into the sea so all the fish could swim away. Then we dragged the net back into the boat and followed him. We didn't know what we were doing or who this guy was. But he had power, charisma, and we did not want to say no. I remember thinking, “I'll take a couple hours off and follow this guy, see what happens.” Three years later, and the biggest fish I have caught is myself.

We followed him, listened to his teachings as often as we could. We have families and other responsibilities, but we're with him as much as possible.

He's addictive. He does astonishing miracles. He healed my mother-in-law of a fever. He drives out demons. In fact, demons would scream in terror at his presence. I've seen wonder workers and faith healers before. Every town has someone who claims to do miracles, but no one like him. Every day he cures someone of leprosy or causes a blind person to see. Incredible. Imagine spending your whole life unable to see. You're reduced to begging, you never marry. Then a man touches your eyes, and now you can see. Overwhelming.

He is astonishing. One time, we were all out on a boat. he had gone off to pray. A storm kicked up. Demons, probably, were knocking our boat about.You get that on the water sometimes. Wind howled. I've spent my whole life on the sea, but I thought for sure we were going to capsize. Then we saw someone out in the water, walking toward us. It's a ghost! “No,” the man shouted. “It's I AM.” It was him, actually walking on the surface of the waves. He invited me out. I stepped onto the surface, my stomach tense, my heart rapid. Soon I was actually standing on the waves, looking at him. It was unreal. The water felt like wet skin. I kept my eyes on him, kept my eyes on him. But the wind was so loud and the waves were so high, I thought, “I can't do,” and I started to sink. I screamed, “Save me!” and he grabbed me with a strong, tight grip. So strange and powerful.

That's how it's been with him. He has shown incredible power. He has done wonders that only, well, only God could do. He must be the Messiah.

In fact, I even said as much to him. “Who do you say that I am?” he asked, his eyes locked on me, his face dark and a bit sunburned.

I cleared my throat. “You are the Messiah.”

He put his hand on my arm, smiled, and said, “Simon you are Peter, Rock, and on this rock I will build my church.” He calls me Peter, which means rock. I am his rock. I guess. I feel more like sand than rock. Such a title is humbling to the point of heartache, but also exciting.

Right after he said that, he started talking about how he would suffer. “They're going to arrest me, beat me, kill me, and then, three days later, the Son of Man will rise again.”

I glanced at John and James. What crazy talk was this? What is he saying? Being killed, rising again? It was like he had suddenly lost it. I wondered if he somehow had a demon in him, so I tried to drive the demon out. “Get out of him!” I shouted.

But then his eyes narrowed and his mouth became taut. He said, “Get behind me, Satan! You don't know what you're talking about. You are setting your mind, not on divine things, but on human things.”

I felt punched in the stomach. I walked off by myself so that he would not see me weep.

He is a confusing one, this man, or whatever he is. One minute it seems like he will save the world. The next minute he is talking about being murdered. I don't get it. Who is he?

A couple weeks ago, he led James, John and me up a high mountain. While he was up there, he became blazing white. It hurt to look at him. I thought, “What is this? Death? Life? A vision? What?” Then two men started talking with him, and I somehow knew that they were Moses and Elijah, who have been dead for hundreds of years. It was like a dream. I thought I might die any minute. I said, “Uh, this is great. How about we make three dwellings, one for each of you?” What a stupid thing to say. Why would we make dwellings, and what were we going to make them out of?

A fog moved in, and a voice boomed, “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him” The voice of God, hard like iron, piercing like a nail. A second later, everything was back to normal. Did I imagine it? “Don't tell anyone about this until after the Son of Man has been raised from the dead,” he told us.

Son of Man? Raised from the dead? The dead. God, help me. I do not understand. Is this man, the greatest being I have ever known, the Messiah, maybe even God himself – is this wonderful being whom I love more than anyone really, is he really going to die? Where are we headed?