WHO YOU ARE

A sermon given on Sunday, August 23, 2026

by the Rt. Rev. Alan M. Gates, Bridge Pastor

I learned early on as an ordained minister that a lot of people have definite ideas and assumptions about clergy.  Once I was changing the oil and spark plug in my lawn mower when a member of my parish pulled into the rectory driveway.  She looked stricken, asked if I really knew how to do that, and phoned her husband to get over there right away before I damaged the church mower.  In her view, priests are not mechanically inclined!

Once at a wedding reception I asked the server for a glass of wine.  She stared at my clerical collar, asked me twice to repeat the request, and when she handed me the merlot, she smirked and waggled her hands over the glass as though maybe I was planning a little communion celebration.  I don’t know whether she thought I was a hypocritical preacher who should be avoiding alcoholic beverage, or a stereotypical drunken priest.  Either way, it was weird.

When my children were young, and especially in their teens, I would sometimes get very suspicious stares and dirty looks when I was out and about with them, without their mother.  In Boston, the Catholic clergy sex scandals cast a very dark shadow over anyone dressed in clericals.

Having people make assumptions about who you are is not an experience limited to clergy.  Whether based on your appearance, your race or ethnicity, how you dress, how you talk, where you come from – no matter your profession or identity – people have their own ideas about who or what you are.  With startling confidence, they project their assumptions upon you.  But surely, we must not allow other people to define who we are.  We must not accept stereotypes imposed upon us, or the conclusions others leap to about what they think they see in us.  Who you are is up to you to determine.

Conversely: I once knew someone who spent his life desperately trying to be a successful teacher.  In fact, he was not cut out for the job.  He didn’t have the patience to work with children.  He was a good and kind person, but neither life experience nor professional training gave him the skills he needed.  Along the way there were plenty of cues that things were not going well.  Children did not respond to him.  Parents complained.  Supervisors gave low marks.  But the man never allowed himself to question why no one else recognized the calling he had claimed.  If you and I are living the life we are meant to lead, others should be able to recognize who and what we are.  Who you are is reflected back to you by others who, one way or another, affirm that identity.

Now, if you have been following me so far, you will object that I have just told you two contradictory things.  First, I told you that you should not let others define who you are.  Then I told you that your identity should be reflected in how others perceive you.  So now I will acknowledge that you are correct.  I’ve said both of these things.  They may seem to be contradictory.  Yet I see both at play in today’s Gospel lesson from Matthew. [16:13-20]

The story is a familiar one.  Jesus asks his disciples, “Who do people say that I am?”  The disciples offer a variety of responses.  Jesus presses the point: “But who do you say that I am?”  Whereupon Peter makes his declaration of faith: “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” This story appears in multiple gospels, so we hear it a lot.  Customarily the preacher will tell you that this passage highlights the need for each one of us to decide who Jesus is: an occasion to hear Jesus asking you and me, personally: Who do you say that I am?  I have no qualm with this interpretation.  I’ve probably preached some variation of this sermon myself a dozen times.  But this week when I read it, it struck me that not only does the reading suggest I declare who Jesus is, it also suggests that I claim for myself who I am, as did Jesus.

In response to his question, the disciples reported that Jesus was thought to be a new incarnation of John the Baptist, or Elijah, or Jeremiah, or another prophet.  Frankly, Jesus had plenty of good reasons to accept one of these descriptors.  John, Elijah, the prophets – all of these were faithful spokesmen for God.  But Jesus had an identity which went beyond any of those others.  Not preparing for the Messiah, but being the Messiah.  So, Jesus does not accept any of the roles suggested for him.  He presses his disciples until one of them, Peter, identifies who he really is: “You are the Messiah.”

Jesus, having understood his true identity, lives out that identity with sufficient commitment and clarity that some, at least, could see it and confirm it.  I think God expects nothing less from you and me. We, too, should live out our identity with such clarity that others will recognize and confirm it.  Which brings me back to those two seemingly contradictory assertions I made earlier.

I believe that God would have each of us work out for ourselves we are meant to be.  Our particular combination of gifts, opportunities, attributes and values, will lead us to that identity.  No one else’s assumptions or conclusions about you should be allowed to define your identity for you.  “Do not be conformed,” writes Paul in this morning’s Epistle [Rom 12:1-8], “to this world” – or, I would say, to this world’s assumptions about you.  “But be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God.”

Having then found your gifts and claimed your identity, expect that others will recognize that identity as well.  Jesus did not derive his identity from Peter’s confession.  He was the Messiah not because Peter said so, but because God had said so, and Jesus lived it out.  However, had Peter and others never recognized that identity, it would have gone unacclaimed, and his saving acts unproclaimed. Peter – and later the Apostle Paul – did not determine Jesus’ identity, but their faith affirmed it and their lives proclaimed it.

Or how about Moses, who makes his first appearance in the harrowing context of today’s First Lesson?  Moses must have had some real work figuring out his identity!  Born of a Hebrew slave.  Raised as a member of Egypt’s royal household.  Witness to a burning bush that claimed to be God.  What identity would he embrace?  Prince?  Laborer?  Mouthpiece of the Lord?  In the end, of course, he was the leader of his people’s march to freedom.  He had to claim that role for himself.  But the people also had to recognize his leadership in order to follow him.  And though they moaned and groaned a lot, they did just that.  They followed Moses.

Two more things that strike me about this passage, here and now.  First: We often think that figuring out our identity is something we do in our younger years.  It’s often true that a lot gets set in motion when we are young: our general values and path in life; our vocation, perhaps – though for many people that can change more than once.  But knowing our identity is not only the purview of the young!  It is a lifelong exercise, because who we are evolves in response to the circumstances around us. The changing needs of the world might also call forth new aspects of who we are. 

As a newly retired person, and also a new grandfather, I have been in my own life moment of listening for God’s call: invitations to lay some things down, pick some things up, understand some roles which continue and others that are new.  My message to you today about claiming your identity is not only for those in the first half of life, but also for those in the second half and even the third half of life!

And finally, this:  Our passage from Romans this morning [12:1-8] included this vital description from Saint Paul: “For as in one body we have many members, and not all the members have the same function. …We have gifts that differ according to the grace given to us: prophecy, …ministry, …teaching,” …encouragement, …generosity, …leadership, … compassion. 

In a parish church there is no more important time than a leadership transition for every member of the parish to consider anew your own God-given gifts, and how those gifts are being offered – or could be offered – in service at your church.  It is how we live; it is how we grow; it is how we belong to one another as members of this Body.  Every newsletter, every participant listing in the worship leaflet, every announcement which describes Christ’s ministry at and from this place, is a call for you to consider how – in this moment at St. Philip’s – you are responding to the love of God and the aching needs of God’s world.

So:  at St. Philip’s Church, and in the world around us: Who do you say that you are?  An educator of learners?  A producer of goods?  A caregiver to the dependent? Who do you say you are?  A musician?  Beautician?  Physician?  Academician?  Technician?  Who do you say you are?  A parent?  A child?  A partner?  A friend?  Who do you say you are?  A Christian?

Who do you say you are?  And how, by God’s grace, can you be that with such devotion and clarity that others will say so, too?  In Jesus’ Name, Amen.