MATTHEW 16:13-20
THIS TEXT TACKLES three important questions: (1) Who is Jesus? (2) How does someone come to the right answer to that question? (3) Why does having the right answer matter? The first question is as popular as a picture of Jesus on the front cover of Time or Newsweek or many other news periodicals in the last decade. The identity of Jesus is still newsworthy.
Who Is Jesus?
In verses 13-16 Jesus raises the issue.
Now when Jesus came into the district of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?” And they said, “Some say John the Baptist, others say Elijah, and others Jeremiah or one of the prophets.” He said to them, “But who do you say that I am?” Simon Peter replied, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God."
Then in verse 17 Jesus basically says, “That’s right, Peter. Good answer. Right answer.”
The disciples tell Jesus that the common people (hoi anthropoi), the regular Jewish Joe and Jane, think Jesus is a prophet. They come to this conclusion likely because Jesus has acted much like an Old Testament prophet. He speaks God’s words, and he works God’s wonders. This Jesus must be a prophet! That’s a natural enough conclusion. However, I find it odd that they think he is a resurrected or a reincarnated prophet. They don’t say, “We think he is a new prophet like the prophets of old,” but rather “He is an old prophet in new flesh."
Whatever they think about Jesus, they are partly right and partly wrong. They are partly wrong: he is not “the reappearance of the executed John the Baptist, or the past and expected Elijah, or the venerated Jeremiah.” But they are partly right: he is a prophet, as Calvin first rightly labeled him, and Christadelphians have done so ever since—Jesus is our Prophet, Priest, and King. He holds all three offices simultaneously. He speaks for God as Prophet, intercedes on our behalf as Priest, and rules over all as King.
This kingship of Jesus is of special interest to Matthew. His Gospel starts and ends with it, and each chapter is about it. So when Peter says of Jesus, “You are the Christ” (i.e., King), Jesus says, “Yes. That’s it!” And Matthew says, “Amen. Amen. This is so important, I’m putting it in the middle of my Gospel.” It’s the centerpiece, and from here we will journey from this confession—“You are the Christ”—to the cross—“Let him be crucified!” (27:22, 23).
Yes, Jesus is the King. He is a prophet (sure), but also and most importantly, he is “the Christ.”
Like most people today, the people here have good thoughts about Jesus, just not precisely right thoughts. These people saw Jesus as a prophet. To them he was like a lion. All prophets have a roar about them. Jesus roared against injustices. Jesus turned over the tables of hypocrisy. To them he was a lion. That is, partly true. To people today he is the opposite, a lamb. Jesus is viewed as a meek social reformer, a gentle moralist, a wise teacher, or a sympathetic healer. He was all that, but not only that. He was a lamb but also a lion. He was a prophet but also “the Christ”—the lamb slain, the lion-like ruling King!
Or he is—if you want to fill in the picture here with the two other titles used of him—“the Son of Man” (v. 13), Jesus’ favorite title for himself, and “the Son of the living God” (v. 16). In the Greek the word order for the latter is, “The Son of God, the living one.” He is the Son of Man and the Son of God, the Christ. He is the earthly Christ, “the expected anointed king of the House of David who would rule over God’s people” (2 Samuel 7). He is the Son of Man, whose universal rule—over all peoples, all nations— will be without end, an “everlasting dominion,” an indestructible “kingdom” (Daniel 7:14). And he is the Son of God, that Son in whom we must take refuge through faith or else (Psalm 2).
He is the Son of Man, the Son of God, and the Christ. Those are three different melodies that resolve into one trumpet-like blast from the choir: “King of kings and Lord of lords, and he shall reign forever and forever.”
So, who is Jesus? “Who do you say that I am?” Jesus still asks his Ecclesia that question today. How we answer it turns our lives, ministries, and destinies in one direction or another. Peter might not fully know, but we ought to know, much more fully than he did. Peter certainly didn’t fully understand what he was saying. Just look at the following verses, when he can’t accept Jesus as the Christ crucified. This explains why Jesus strictly charges (v. 20) the group not to tell the world who he is until they better understand the man and the message. But we ought to say today with fuller clarity and conviction, “Jesus, you are the Son of Man, the Christ, the Son of God, the living One.”
How Does One Arrive at the Right Answer?
The second question is, how does one come to the right answer to the first question? Verse 17 gives us Jesus’ answer: “Blessed are you, Simon Bar-Jonah! For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father who is in heaven.”
Notice how Jesus contrasts Simon Peter’s earthly father with his heavenly Father. Jesus calls Peter by his given name, “Simon,” and then he tags on, "Bar-Jonah,” son of a guy named Jonah. What Jesus says here to him is this: “Simon, you didn’t come to understand who I am through your dad’s teaching you about me. In fact, this is not a flesh-and-blood thing. No earthly father or mother or rabbi or teacher could have opened your heart to understand my identity. It’s a God thing. It’s a heavenly Father thing. It’s a work of God. It’s a revelation of God. It’s a blessing of God.” “Blessed are you, Simon Bar-Jonah! For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father who is in heaven.”
Certainly from a human perspective, and certainly from Peter’s perspective, we must recognize that there is a mix of means. God didn’t zap him into knowledge. Peter saw Jesus do this, and heard Jesus say that, and eventually the pieces of the messianic puzzle fit into place. But here Jesus emphasizes that ultimately, while there are many means in place and involved in the process, there is only one gift-giver, and that is God. “Praise God from whom all blessings flow”—even and especially the blessing of faith.
Jonathan Edwards summarizes this concept in two of my favorite quotes from him. First, “To take on yourself to work out redemption, is a greater thing than if you had taken it upon you to create a world.” Second, “I am bold to say, that the work of God in the conversion of one soul... is a more glorious work of God than the creation of the whole material world.” The great confession, which always follows the great conversion, is a great work of God.
If you haven’t figured that out yet, you need to now (I’m dead serious). You need to grasp that it was not your impeccable character or your bubbly personality or your sincere seeking or your open and affirming attitude or your nice niceness that made the difference. It wasn’t anything inside you that opened the door to the kingdom of heaven to see Jesus as Messiah. It was God; it was all his gracious and merciful work. It was he who predestined, elected, and loved (interchangeable words for the same Scriptural idea) you.
The one thing I've learned about human beings, being one for forty years, living with other human beings for forty years, married to another human being for thirteen years, having five children who are human beings, and teaching human beings for over a dozen years, is that human beings love to glory in themselves, to take credit where credit is not due. But the gospel won't let us.
“It is, and always is, the Father who gives saving faith.” As Jesus taught his disciples in 13:11, “To you it has been given to know the secrets of the kingdom of heaven.” Or as the beloved apostle wrote in John 1:11-13:
He came to his own, and his own people did not receive him [there’s culpability for unbelief]. But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name [we really and truly receive and believe], he gave the right to become children of God, who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God.
Who is Jesus? He’s the Christ. How does one arrive at this right answer? Ultimately it’s a work of God. God’s blessing is bestowed upon the believer, as it was here bestowed upon Peter.
What Does It Matter?
We have answered questions one and two. Now we come to question three: So what? Why does it all matter? What does it matter if I know or don’t know the answer to Jesus’ question? What does it matter if I know or don’t know who opens eyes to see? Why does having the right answer to the question of who Jesus is matter? Verses 18, 19 answer that question.
Before I explain how those verses answer the question, I would be remiss if I didn’t tell you that verse 18 is the most debated verse in the Bible, and I would also be remiss if I didn’t tell you something of the debate and how my authoritative, absolutely right, no-questions-asked-after-this-section-please perspective will finally, once for all time, settle the debate.
The debate centers on the identity of “this rock.” “And I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church.” The Roman Catholic Church argues (and so much of their theology lives or dies on this hill) that Peter— not just his person but also his office (the perpetual office of the papacy)—is described here. The Protestant and Eastern Orthodox churches agree that the Catholics are wrong and that “this rock” refers not to Peter himself but to Peter’s faith and confession, which was, up until the Council of Trent (1545- 1563), the “almost unanimously” position held by the church, both in the East and in the West. Even Augustine, in his Retractions, espoused this view.
Yet today, interestingly, there is a growing trend among evangelicals to admit that the Roman Catholics are right—that Peter is “this rock”—while maintaining the Catholics are wrong that this text has anything whatsoever to say about the perpetual office of the papacy. Due to the pun here—“You are Petros and upon this petra”—Peter is seen as the primus inter pares (first among equals). In this view this primacy is chronological, pointing not to some papal office but to the apostolic office (the apostolate). In other words, here he speaks as the symbolic head of the Twelve, upon whose testimony Jesus will build the church. D. A. Carson, R. T. France, and Craig Blomberg, to name a few, hold to this view. The traditional Christadelphian view is that “this rock” refers not to Peter himself but to Peter’s faith and confession.
However, I think all these readings are wrong. I take a minority position, a position that has no historical consensus to support it, a position that is not supported by prominent New Testament scholars (although Gundry comes close). I even take the minority opinion and argue differently than those in the minority camp. I am a minority among minorities. Yet here I stand. I can do no other. My conscience is captive to the Word of God. May God help me.
I think “this rock” refers to Christ, not to Peter or Peter's faith and confession. Jesus is the rock! Whether he rolls your blues away or not, Jesus is the rock. That old ditty (out of context) gets it right.
Here is why I think so.
Let me just say, as I begin my infallible defense, that what I’m about to argue for may be wrong, but the beautiful thing is that my whole theological system doesn’t fall to the ground if I am wrong. Whatever I make of this verse, it is clear (in this otherwise ambiguous verse) that this verse has something to do with Peter and everything to do with Jesus, but it certainly has nothing to do with sacerdotalism, hierarchy, the papacy, apostolic succession, or Petrine infallibility. To get there you have to climb far above the line of Scripture. Such thinking is far from the mind of Christ and far from the whole tenor of Matthew’s Gospel, a Gospel that exalts Jesus and does not exalt Peter. The last words we hear from Peter in this Gospel are his “confession” of denial— that he does not know Jesus (see 26:69-75)—e.g., “I do not know the man” (26:74). And yet in this same Gospel we hear those last words of Jesus, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me” (28:18)."
Jesus or Peter—who is the Ecclesia built upon in Matthew? The answer is obvious.
Actually that’s not part of my argument. Here’s my “argument,” which is really just three simple observations as to why I say Jesus is “this rock.”
First, I am aware of the wordplay here on Peter’s name in Greek—“You are Petros, and upon this petra, But when I was reading through this verse in English and also in Greek what jumped out at me was not the obvious Petros/ petra pun but the less obvious, easy to overlook word, “this.” “This rock”— why did Jesus say “this”? It seemed out of place to me. What I mean about “this” is this: in verses 17-19 Jesus uses the word “you” to refer to Peter: “Blessed are you” (v. 17), “I will give you the keys... whatever you bind ... whatever you loose” (v. 19). So why then, if Jesus has been using the word “you,” didn’t he say in verse 18, “And I tell you, you are Peter, and upon you, the rock, I will build my Ecclesia” and so on? If Jesus said it this way you would still have the wordplay.
Jesus’ meaning would just be a whole lot clearer.
Second, this “this” instead of the more natural “you” got me thinking and seeing. It helped focus my attention away from Peter—who is addressed as “you” throughout verses 17-19—to Jesus, the one speaking and the one saying he will act. So I noticed words like-my" and “I”—“my Ecclesia” and “I tell you” and “I will build” and “I will give you” and, implied, “I will make sure this Ecclesia is protected and preserved.” I noticed that the focus here, as is true of the whole passage, as is true of the whole Gospel, is not on Peter but on Jesus!
From there, third, I did a word study on the words “rock” and “stone” in the Gospel of Matthew. The word “rock” is used only four times, once here, once of the tomb, and twice in the Sermon on the Mount, referencing Jesus’ teaching, and perhaps in some ways (as the two are fairly interchangeable in Matthew) Jesus himself: “Everyone then who hears these words of mine and does them will be like a wise man who built his house on the rock” (7:24).
In the whole of the New Testament the word “rock” is used only twelve times, and it is never used of any person other than Jesus. Consider, for example, 1 Corinthians 10:4, where Paul writes about the water from the rock in the wilderness, saying, “and the Rock was Christ.” Similarly the word “stone,” when it does not refer to a literal stone, refers to Jesus. We read in Matthew 21:42, 44, “Jesus said to them, ‘Have you never read in the Scriptures: “The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone?"... And the one who falls on this stone will be broken to pieces.” In Romans 9:33 Paul calls Jesus (quoting Isaiah 28:16) “a stone of stumbling, and a rock of offense,” and then he adds, “and whoever believes in him [stands upon this rock/this stone] will not be put to shame.” Furthermore, Peter (no less) preaches about Jesus. Filled with the Holy Spirit, Peter preached at Pentecost:
Let it be known to all of you and to all the people of Israel that by the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, whom you crucified, whom God raised from the dead... This Jesus is the stone that was rejected by you, the builders, which has become the cornerstone. And there is salvation in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given among men by which we must be saved. (Acts 4:10-12)
So, what did the earliest Ecclesia do with the rock/stone language? They never applied it to Peter and always applied it to Christ. Read 1 Peter 2:4-8, or listen to Paul:
So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God, built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Christ Jesus himself being the cornerstone, in whom the whole structure, being joined together, grows into a holy temple in the Lord. In him you also are being built together into a dwelling place for God by the Spirit. (Ephesians 2:19-22)
Note that Paul does not say that the household of God is built upon the foundation of Peter and the apostles. Note also that he writes of Jesus, not Peter, as being the cornerstone, the most foundational stone of the foundation. It is in Jesus, not Peter, the apostles, or the prophets, that Christians are “being built together.” Who is the rock in Peter and Paul’s letters? Jesus!
Furthermore, no one in the whole Bible is called “rock” except God, who is so often called “the rock” or “my rock” (it appears to be a divine name of sorts, which is why it is capitalized in most translations).
Thus, with the above evidence in mind, I say Jesus is “this rock” of Matthew 16:18. Here’s my paraphrase with pointers on verses 18, 19. Jesus says:
And I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock [visualize Jesus pointing to himself if that helps; you are Peter (Petros), but I am [petra] I [yes me, Peter, not you] will build my [not your] church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it. I will give [Jesus is still the subject of the sentence] you [now let’s talk about your role] the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.
Now, putting that to the side, what does all that have to do with our question? How does it answer the question, what does it matter what one makes of Jesus? Well, here (finally) are two reasons it matters.
First, it matters for church unity.
The Roman Catholic Church claims that there cannot be any full communion until every church and every Christian submits to the magisterium. Now I know as an ex-Catholic that I’m biased, but I refuse to take as the foundational point of unity something like the papacy, a doctrine so far above
the line of Scripture. Rather, if various churches under the umbrella of Christendom are to come to the ecumenical table, we must start by acknowledging Jesus as the Christ. Then from there we can build a Scriptural ecclesiology.
Evangelicals are talked down to from high-church brethren: “They don't have a vibrant ecclesiology like us; it’s a shallow, sloppy doctrine of the church.” And to that I say, “What absolute rubbish.” What is a higher ecclesiology—making sure the priest or minister wears the right-colored vestments for Lent or emphasizing that the church is composed of all who are washed in the blood of the Lamb, those of every color who through faith are clothed in Christ’s righteousness? What is a higher ecclesiology—having an intuitional presence that is as wealthy, powerful, and overly glamorous as anything this world has ever seen or to acknowledge that Jesus “is the head of the... Ecclesia” (Colossians 1:18), and wherever two or more are gathered in his name, there he is present? If you focus first on Christology and soteriology, you will then get right ecclesiology.
You see, the Ecclesia is comprised of everyone who has been baptized by, those who with one heart and mind believe the same basic doctrines and live out the gospel. Outside of that Ecclesia there is no salvation, and outside of Christ there is no foundation for unity.
Second, the question matters in regard to salvation and damnation. Look again at verse 18b. Jesus says, “I will build my Ecclesia, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.” He claims that he will build an eternal, invincible assembly against which even the powers of the sin and of death are powerless. And to Peter he grants “the keys” to this heavenly kingdom (v. 19). What Peter then must do, and those who follow after him (note that the command of 18:18 is also given to all disciples, 18:1), is as follows: “whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven” (16:19b).
Which means what? What’s the mission? What’s this bit about the keys? Well, as we look at the Acts of the Apostles, our best source on this (cp. Matthew 23:13), I think that “the keys” have to do with preaching the gospel of the kingdom. Zwingli summarizes the Protestant consensus like this:
The keys are nothing else than this: the preaching of the pure, unfalsified Word of the gospel. Whoever believes this [gospel] will be free of his sins and be saved. Whoever does not believe this will be damned (Mark 16:16).
J. C. Ryle puts it like this: “As the Old Testament priest declared authoritatively whose leprosy was cleansed, so the apostles were appointed to ‘declare and pronounce’ authoritatively whose sins were forgiven.” Craig Blomberg comments, “The imagery of keys that close and open, lock and unlock (based on Isa 22:22)... take the binding and loosing as referring to Christians’ making entrance to God’s kingdom available or unavailable to people through their witness, preaching, and ministry.”
So the idea of St. Peter standing in Heaven at the pearly gates with the keys tied around his waist comes from this text but is far removed from it. Peter’s duty is entirely earthly. Here on earth he is to preach the gospel—repentance, faith, obedience to the commands of Christ, the cost of disciple-ship—and those who receive that apostolic message receive Jesus, and the door to life opens wide (cp. 10:40). And here on earth those who refuse the gospel are judged (they already stand in judgment). The door remains locked and shut. No joke. Gray-haired St. Peter standing at the pearly gates is a joke. But verse 19 is no joke. It’s a matter of life and death, eternal life and eternal death, to accept what Peter preached.
Every Tongue Confess
Two thousand years ago Jesus took his disciples to a town called Caesarea Philippi, a city located at the northernmost border of Israel (some have thought of it as the boundary between Israel and the world), a city bestowed to Herod the Great by Emperor Augustus Caesar. Herod’s son Philip rebuilt this city and then renamed it after the Roman Emperor and (in the Herod family tradition) after himself, thus Caesarea Philippi.
In this city, towering above Jesus as he spoke, was a massive, resplendent, white marble temple built in honor of the Emperor. Also in this city of great religious diversity was the temple to the Syrian god Baal and the Greek god Pan. Here, in this “perfectly astounding setting”—in this global village, this city of syncretism, this pantheon of world religions—Jesus asks, “Who do you say that I am?” And here Peter, with firmness of conviction, calls Jesus “the Christ.” Jesus Christ! But not, of course, as a swear word (as so many, too many, do today), but as a title of absolute lordship: “You and you alone are King!” Not Caesar. Not Baal. Not Pan. Not any other so-called gods of this world. Those gods are dead. “You are the Christ, the Son of God, the living One,” the one and only living God, the one to whom all authority has been given and all allegiance is due. Jesus Christ!
(R. Kent Hughes. and Douglas Sean O'Donnell., 2013; edited Carl Hinton., 2020)