A reflection on the Gospel of Matthew 16:13-20 for Mass the weekend of August 25, 2002.
***

It was almost closing time and Jesus was standing in the middle of the aisle, near the section between the toys, video games and CD’s. You know exactly where he was standing because every Target store looks like every other Target store.

You would think that Lord of Heaven and Earth would know better. After all, why would you want to ask important questions in the middle of the Target store, a temple of the all-you-can-buy buffet? At least he had enough sense to not go to Walmart this time.

It was here that Jesus asked the question.

"Hey, guys, who do people say that I am?"

John was the first to answer. He was young and you know how boys who are barely sixteen can be. ‘Umm, mostly they say that you are kinda creepy. Like, why do you want to hang around us all the time anyway? I’m sorry, but that is what they say. Hey, Jesus, have you seen this new ‘Sublime’ CD?"

"At least you are honest, in your own way." Jesus sighed and looked deeply at this youngest disciple.

"I don’t think you are weird," John added quickly, afraid that Jesus might have taken it the wrong way.

"Don’t worry, John, I can handle it, kiddo. And, that CD isn’t even worth stealing off the Internet," said Jesus, pointing back to the rack. "It’s too bad that nobody likes Creed anymore, tho."

"Well," Matthew interrupted, "there is a whole bunch of people who say your thing is all about money and building more buildings. And I agree that more buildings are not what we need . . . nothing personal, ya know? I mean, can’t we just stay in our rooms and pray and stuff?"

"Matt, do you even get the irony of complaining about buildings while you stand in this temple of spending?" asked the Christ.

"No, ‘cuz I don’t know what you mean" Matt responded, "and there you go talking about money again, too. Am I supposed to feel guilty?" he asked as he picked up a Star Wars action figure and secretly tried to apply a red clearance price tag to it, a tag he had scraped off of some old Spider Man toy on another shelf.

Andrew mumbled, "I don’t think anyone cares who you are except this little group here. Nobody shows up much more anyway except for the social stuff. They like it when you have food, even the fish."

Jesus snorted. Andrew had a way of taking everything back to fishing.

Jesus turned to Peter, who was busy with a video game on display.

"Peter, what game are you playing now?" Jesus asked.

‘Umm, Grand Theft Auto Three," he answered without even taking his eyes off the screen.

"What’s that squeaking sound?" asked Jesus as he turned his head to the towards the screen.

"It’s a car, like the springs and stuff." Peter replied.

"Why is it squeaking?" Jesus asked, already afraid of the answer.

Peter turned red and waited a while to answer. "Because I have a prostitute in the back of the car, that is why, if you gotta know."

Three loud sounds echoed from the screen. Bam. Bam. Bam.

"What now?" inquired Jesus, afraid in his heart to know the answer.

"I just shot the ‘ho, homey! Got me my money back," Peter shouted to the screen as John gave him the universal sign of love, the high-five.

Peter shot a quick look at Mary Magdalene, who was trying to look away from all this noise and wishing she was closer to the Juniors’ department.

Peter began to say, in an attempt to mock her reputation, "Oh, sorry, Mary, it’s not like I really want to shoot prostit...."

"Just because I like to have a good time does not mean that I am a prostitute, you fat Crackhead." Mary said, her face flushing. Why were guys always like this? She looked at Jesus as if to beg him to make Peter behave.

"Uh, Peter, lay off of her, she’s with me, and put down the game. I want to ask you something," Jesus quickly commanded Peter.

Peter put down the game, but his eyes caught sight of a South Park DVD that someone had left on the shelf. "Probably got left here by some busted twelve year old whose Momma wanted to smack him," he thought.

"Hey Jesus, I bet that John hasn’t seen this movie yet," Peter said, tapping the cover of the DVD.

Jesus looked at Peter,torn between love and frustration, as only one who knows how God loves could be torn. It was a tough line to walk.

Locking eyes with Peter’s perplexed stare, Jesus asked, ‘Peter, can I just get your attention for one minute. What will that take? Peter, who do you say that I am?"

"Ask me again, M’kay?" Peter said, and as he did so, he realized that mocking the one who cared for him would get him nothing but a deeply uncomfortable feeling, the one he did not like but yet one he knew well. "I don’t know, it’s just really hard to think about the religious stuff all the time. Why aren’t you asking this at a church or something?"

"‘Cuz the question only really counts here in this temple," answered Jesus and then he looked at Peter in silence and just waited.

Peter reached over to the ball bin and picked up a small foam football. He tossed it into the air a few times, trying to pretending that the gaze of Jesus wasn’t thoroughly focused on him. "Oh, now are you are mad because I like football, too?" he asked in a way that made the question sound like it was spat out and swallowed at the same time.

Peter quickly ended with, "What have you got against fun, anyway?"

Jesus responded, "Nothing, Peter. Fun is okay. You know that. But some of these things are sucking the life out of you. Peter, look at me and tell me: who do you say that I am?"

Peter took a deep breath and his words came pouring out, "You are the Christ, the living God who tries to help me when I am afraid, who relieves me when I feel guilty, and loves me enough to keep me from drowning when I do stupid things. You can fix the whole stupid world if you want. That is who I say you are. Screw it. I don’t have time to think about this now, I got homework to do."

Peter threw the football to Jesus as if to punctuate his point. Jesus caught it with one hand.

Jesus tossed the football into the bin and stepped closer to his perplexed and fuming friend, standing closer than Peter ever remembered him doing in the past. Peter’s eyes started to fill up and sting.

Jesus said to him. "Peter, that’s all I needed to hear. Let me build in you a life so strong that a thousand distractions couldn’t tear it down. Whadya’ say?"

"I’ll think about it." Peter answered under his breath. He then turned to John and barked, "Come on, didn’t your mom say you had to be home by ten? Let’s go."

Peter snapped around and began taking long steps toward the exit, forcing John to run a little to keep up.