Homily

Who do the crowds say that I am? Jesus addresses this question to his disciples in Caesarea Philippi (Lk 9:18-24). The evangelist does not specify the place, but the situation in which Jesus speaks these words to his disciples—that is, once when Jesus was praying alone, with only the disciples near him (v. 18). Jesus does not intend to make an electoral survey, even if the evangelists, in various places, write about the diversity of attitudes and opinions the people had of this unique prophet from Nazareth. Through the mouth of the disciples, Luke expresses some of the more common opinions of Jesus’ identity: John the Baptist; but others, Elijah; and still others, that one of the ancient prophets has arisen (v. 19). Each one of these attributes to Jesus’ identity bore with it a more or less elevated degree of popularity and adherence to him.
However, Jesus is not interested in the opinions of the people. That which matters to him most is what the disciples may think of him. In what follows in the Gospel, we learn what Jesus’ motive is. Jesus is about to begin a truly difficult journey to Jerusalem. By now it is clear to him the clash that is about to occur between his preaching and the religious and spiritual authorities (the elders, chief priests and scribes) that rule Israel. Certainly, the numerous passages of the Old Testament - the suffering servant and the "pierced" righteous one, as we heard today in the reading from the prophet Zechariah - came to Jesus’ mind. But if what is going to happen is clear to him, this is not the case for the disciples. For this reason, without commenting on the opinion of the people, Jesus immediately asks the disciples, "But who do you say that I am?" (v. 20). This is the central question of the Gospel passage, which certainly requests a clear understanding, but above all else requires the heart’s full adhesion. Peter, speaking for all, responds: "The Messiah of God." Peter’s response, although not fully clear in his mind, comes from the fullness of his emotional and existential faithfulness to Jesus. By now, it is clear to the disciples that Jesus is not only their teacher, but also their friend, confident, life and saviour.
The conversation between Jesus and the disciples that ensues, therefore, is not like those within any given organization; rather, it is a friendly, confident dialogue. Jesus opens his heart and confides in his most intimate friends, telling them what will happen in Jerusalem. He shares that he came to earth not to do his will, but the will of the Father, whatever that may involve. The confidential announcement of his passion, death and resurrection, certainly shocks the small, haggard group of disciples. But, Jesus knows well that this is the essence of his Gospel and nothing in the world can make him give it up. Moreover, whoever wants to follow the Gospel, must accept this. Therefore, he continues to speak, offering some indications about following him. The first and fundamental condition, therefore, is a full and complete faithfulness to him. Jesus wants his disciples to belong to him not superficially, but in the depths of their heart, not partially, but entirely. Right at the beginning of his journey toward Jerusalem—we are still in Galilee—he says to those listening: "If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves, and take up their cross daily and follow me." Later, and much more harshly, he says, "Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself cannot be my disciple" (Lk 14:26).
The bond that Jesus requests is strong, much stronger that the natural relationships that each one of us has with our parents, children, husbands and wives. It is stronger than the bond that each one of us has with daily affairs, our interests and ourselves. The shocking expression "to hate" must be understood, but it still remains shocking. And it cannot be any other way. Its force must not be diminished. Jesus directly asks us to be loved above every other thing. He demands that he come before every other thought that we have and everything that we do. He expects to be our first thought and the first thing that we have to do. All of this bears with it the pruning and cutting that we have to do in ourselves, beginning in the heart. The heart is the place where we decide to whom are we going to entrust our life: to ourselves, to our career, to many other idols, or to the Lord? It is obvious that every cut, every pruning, requires effort and sacrifice, and sometimes it is a real struggle. Every disciple must engage in this struggle. The words of the Lord do not regard only a particular group of people (priests, religious, nuns, etc.), but all Christians, all of those who choose to follow Jesus. Following Jesus, as I was saying, is first of all affective: we follow Jesus with the heart—that is, by loving him, thinking of him, speaking with him, having him before our eyes, and seeking to put into practice that which he says.
In this sense, following Jesus is the heart of the moral message of the Gospel. Jesus’ experience and his way of life constitute the binding norm of life for every Christian. To follow Jesus means to be willing to follow his path, to take upon us the world’s rejection, incomprehension and slander. In the end, however, there is the resurrection, the fullness of life. Jesus ties the disciple to his personal destiny. He seems to say, ‘the journey I am about to take is also your journey.’ And he closes with a sentence truly strange to our ears, but which is the synthesis of life: "For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will save it" (v. 24). Whoever "loses" life—that is, whoever spends it to follow Jesus—has truly been saved and has not lost in chasing after vain and illusory things.