Sermon-A visit to Caesarea Philippi

Reconstruction of the Sanctuary of Pan at Banias (Wikipedia)

A sermon given during the Sung Eucharist at St George’s Bloomsbury on Sunday 15th September 2024 (Year B, Proper 19) based on readings from James 3:1-12 and Mark 8:27-38 (Peter’s declaration at Caesarea Philippi).

Knowing something about the place in which the events of today’s gospel reading took place can help illuminate our understanding of it’s message.

Go straight ahead at the Rosetta Stone and before you get to the Parthenon Sculptures, you’ll come face to face with a massive Venus. She’s kneeling in the middle of a room full of Roman sculptures that date from the first and second century. Most of them are copies of much earlier Greek statues. There’s Hermes, several depictions of athletic heroes and a frieze showing a procession of half-dressed woodland Gods, part man part horse. 

We are fortunate to live so close and if you can muster the patience to pre-register for a free ticket these days, it’s still well worth dropping in to the British Museum on your way to the shops! 

It’s probably the closest we can get here in Bloomsbury - and in the present circumstances - to what the setting for today’s gospel reading looked like. A passage in which I think ‘place’ plays a particularly important part in illuminating the message. Caesarea Philippi is a theological theme park of sorts.

 

Although, there’s a key figure missing in our local version these days. Not Jupiter or Zeus - but Pan. A rendition of this muscular half man half goat generated impressive column-inches of faux-outrage (and huge crowds as a result) when it was put on public display at the museum some years ago, having previously been part of a “reserved” collection in Naples. There, the guards were known to take bribes from visitors wishing to get a furtive glimpse of the pipe playing imp, doing what he does best in the fertile undergrowth next to the gushing rivers of his Arcadian playground. 

What Bloomsbury lacks, Banias has in abundance. The Arabic name for Caesaria Philippi - is so called because it had become a site of ritual devotion to the Greek God Pan since Alexander the Great passed through the neighbourhood. The shrine is located at the entrance to a huge cave, from which a spring gushes out of the earth that forms one of the tributaries of the River Jordan. There are echoes of Eden and of the heavenly city here. A place of beginnings and endings.

 

All the water makes this a lush, green spot in the shade of Mount Hebron and it remains a public park today. A nature reserve with abundant bird life. The cooling effect of the water is pronounced and the sounds of the flowing river - and the constant hum of insects -  makes a trip to Banias a multi-sensory experience. 

 

Winding paths through the woods lined with stalls selling refreshments, open out to form small glades - the perfect setting for Pan’s People to engage in secret trysts and whispers-in-the-ear. But the woods can also be dense, dark and ominous. Pan is said to have enjoyed hiding in spots like that, shaking the branches to frighten passers-by. Causing them to run away - in panic. As well as naughty sculptures Pan has bequeathed us that word.  

 

Banias – or Caesarea Philippi - is a place of highly charged emotions, where every human desire is catered for. A place of recreation, relaxation, titillation, temptation - and worship. 

The woodland leads to a natural plateau at the foot of a cliff containing carved niches which, when Jesus and the disciples were walking here, would have contained statues of Pan and his nymphs. The remains of columns supporting temples to Augustus, Zeus and several to Pan himself can still be seen today. 

 

This is where Jesus chose to bring the disciples and ask them - “who do people say that I am?” 

 

Standing in the middle of this multiple-choice place, this Disneyland of deities and desire, the disciples give a multiple-choice answer: 

 

Some say John the Baptist; others, Elijah; and others still, one of the prophets. No statues to any of them at Banias - the Ten Commandments forbidding the creation of idols of course. 

 

But who do you say that I am? Jesus pushes them. 

 

Again, I wonder if the setting is significant here? Perhaps even more so for us than for those first disciples?

 

At Caesarea Philippi - or in the British Museum - we are standing in the shadow of Roman statues of Greek gods. 

 

And it’s difficult for us not to talk about Jesus and God without being in the shadow of those ancient civilisations. When we speak about God we tend to use words and concepts that have their root in Greek metaphysical thought, passed down to us by the Romans. Our understanding of love. Of omnipotence. Of providence. The list goes on.

 

This way of thinking is like the bridle or the rudder that James mentions in his letter - influencing our minds direction of travel as well as our language – but often below the surface – something unseen and unnoticed. 

 

But who do you say that I am? Jesus asks, encouraging Jewish - or proto Christian belief - to mingle openly here, in the physical shadow of Greek and Roman thought and practice. 

 

Peter is the first to reply:

 

“You are the Messiah” he says. 

 

Peter’s declaration at Caesarea Philippi is a turning point in Mark’s gospel. The great Messianic secret is revealed. 

 

Jesus is the one who God has sent to save the world.

 

Peter has named Jesus as the Messiah. But what does it mean to know Jesus as Saviour?

 

Instead of asking another question, Jesus teaches the disciples that he must suffer, be rejected by the elders, the chief priests and the scribes. He must be killed and rise again after three days. 

 

This doesn’t sound like the Messiah Peter had in mind. He takes Jesus to one side and asks him what on earth he’s talking about?! Jesus responds, sternly. He’s talking about heavenly, not earthly things. Here below the grotto of Pan – this huge chasm in the cliff which in pagan tradition is an entrance to the underworld - Jesus says: 

 

“Get behind me Satan!”

 

Jesus calls the crowd together in this place of beginnings and endings - and explains that if any wish to truly follow him they must deny themselves and take up their own cross.

They must turn away from their most base and basic human desires. Turn away from all that tempts them. Because none of it - not one thing that is on offer here in gardens of Banias - can come close to the true fulfilment of the life that God has promised. 

 

Knowing something about the place in which the events of today’s gospel reading took place can help illuminate our understanding of it’s message.

 

At Caesarea Philippi the disciples had to think about what it means to know Jesus. 

 

As they stood in that place of multiple-choice deities, beneath statues to Pan, Zeus and Roman emperors, they named Jesus as the son of the one true God.

 

As they stood in a place where Jewish, Greek and Roman thought converged, they were forced to consider the influences on their own understanding about who the Messiah – our Saviour- is and to challenge these assumptions. 

 

As they stood in a place designed to cater for every human desire they were confronted with their own temptations - and called to tear themselves away from them.  Putting God’s will in place of their own. 

The gospel encourages us to ask how this place and time influence our understanding about who Jesus is and to be open to challenge that understanding. Who or what is the real ‘life-saver’ for us today. And it calls on us to turn away from everything that draws us away from the only answer to that question.

Here, in this place, standing in front of an image of our Saviour at the altar, where we remember his death, resurrection and ascension, we are invited not just to name Jesus, but to strive to know him.

Image : Reconstruction of The Sanctuary of Pan at Banias (Wikipedia)