21st Sunday in Ordinary Time - Year A
Who Do You Say That I Am?
Rev. Mr. James Fourcade
Today’s readings invite us to reflect on authority, faith, and trust. “Who do you say that I am?” Jesus does not ask this question of his disciples because he lacks information. He asks because the answer reveals the heart of his disciples. It is one thing to know what others say about Jesus; it is quite another thing to confess him personally, to trust him completely, and to build our lives upon him.
At the center of the Gospel is that question: “Who do you say that I am?” It is not only a question for the disciples, but a question for every Christian, every parish, every family, and every human heart. We may know what others say about Jesus. We may even have heard many opinions about him. But faith becomes personal when we answer that question for ourselves: Who is Jesus to me?
Today’s culture struggles with this question. Many are willing to call Jesus a wise teacher, an inspiring figure in history, a moral compass, or just a religious symbol. But Peter’s confession goes further, Jesus is not merely useful: He is Lord, His is not one voice among many, He is the Christ. That confession changes everything; how we speak, how we vote, how we forgive, how we use technology, how we treat the unborn, the poor, the immigrants, the elderly and those we disagree with.
In the first reading from Isaiah, Shebna, the master of the palace, abused his authority and neglected his responsibility to God. As such, God transferred the authority from Shebna to Eliakim and gave Eliakim the robe, the sash, and the key of the House of David. The image of keys is important. Keys represent trust. We do not hand our keys to just anyone. A key gives access, responsibility, and stewardship. In Isaiah, the key belongs to the royal household. In Matthew, the keys point us to the authority of Christ entrusted to Peter and, through him, the Church. Catholic faith sees here a foundation for Peter’s office and the continuing mission of the Church to teach, guide, forgive, and guard the truth handed on to us by Christ.
The keys given to Eliakim and Peter are not meant to be domineering. Eliakim is called to be “a father” to the people. Peter is called to strengthen his brothers and sisters and to serve the flock of Christ. In the Church, authority is most faithful when it looks like service, when it opens doors to grace rather than closing hearts through pride, when it binds wounds and loves without condition.
For Catholics, this passage is a beautiful foundation for understanding the ministry of Peter and his successors. The Church is not built on Peter’s personal perfection; we know from the Gospels that Peter is impulsive, weak at times, and even capable of denial. The Church is built on Christ, who chooses Peter, strengthens him, and gives him authority for service. That should give us hope. God does not wait until we are flawless before he calls us. He calls us, forms us, corrects us, and then sends us.
Saint Paul’s words in Romans remind us that God’s wisdom is deeper than ours: “Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God!” We may not always understand the way God works in the Church, in our families, or even in our own hearts. We may wonder why God chooses certain people, permits certain struggles, or leads us along unexpected paths. Yet Paul teaches us humility: “For from him and through him and for him are all things.” Faith begins when we stop trying to make God fit into our plans and instead allow our lives to fit into his.
So, I poise this question again because he wants each of to answer for us: “Who do you say that I am?”
This is a question, not only when we are in church, at home, at work, or when life is less chaotic. It is a personal question when we wonder if God is listening to us or when we are disappointed, frustrated, or disillusioned. Who Jesus is to us is not only an expression in our words, but with our choices. Is Jesus truly the Christ, the Son of the living God in our lives? Is the Son of God more than just a Sunday obligation? Do we turn to him only when life gets difficult? He should always be the center of our decisions, the center of our daily prayers, a measure of our love, the source of our forgiveness, and the hope that keeps us steady when life shakes us.
Eliakim and Peter receive the keys, but all of us receive a share in their mission of opening doors. Parents open the door of faith for their children. Teachers, catechists, and parish ministers open the door of understanding and for those lost or searching. Friends open the door of mercy when they forgive each other. Parish communities open the door of welcoming those who are lonely and grieving. Every Christian, in some way, is called to make the kingdom of heaven more visible – to invite others through the doors of His church.
But we can only open those doors if we first allow Christ to open our own hearts. We do not confess Jesus once and then move on with our lives. We confess him daily: in prayer, in repentance, in acts of charity, in fidelity to the Church, and in trust when God’s wisdom is beyond our understanding.
Today, let us ask for the grace to answer Jesus with Peter’s faith: “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” And let us ask that our answer not remain only in our words, but become a life built on Christ, serving his Church, trusting his wisdom, and using his keys to open the doors of his mercy to others with authority, faith and trust.