What Kind of Messiah Are We Following? - Reflections on Mark 8:27-9:1 Part 1

Peter gets the title right.
“You are the Messiah.”

But just a few verses later, Jesus is calling him Satan.

What happened?

In Mark 8, we reach the hinge point of the Gospel. Jesus and his disciples are walking through Caesarea Philippi — a city thick with symbolism. It was a place known for empire and idols, built near a shrine to Caesar himself. Power and control were quite literally in the air. It’s here, in this landscape of domination and devotion, that Jesus turns to his disciples and asks a question that still haunts the church today:

“Who do you say that I am?”

Peter answers boldly. His confession is theologically correct. But his expectations are shaped by triumph, not surrender. He imagines a Messiah who wins — who defeats Rome, restores Israel, and reclaims honor. And he’s not entirely wrong to want that. He’s lived his life under occupation. He’s watched empire crush his people.

But Jesus says: No.

“The Son of Man must undergo great suffering…”

And Peter rebukes him.

Jesus doesn’t just reject Peter’s response. He names it for what it is — a temptation. The same temptation he faced in the wilderness: to pursue the world’s version of power rather than God’s.

“Get behind me, Satan.”

Because Peter’s vision of messiahship might be politically satisfying, or religiously compelling, or emotionally comforting — but it is not faithful.

Jesus redefines what it means to be the Christ.
He says suffering is necessary — not because pain is holy, but because love will always collide with violence, injustice, and fear. And the world doesn’t crucify saviors for nothing.

And then he turns the camera around.

“If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.”

So what kind of Messiah are we following?

Is it the Jesus who makes our lives easier?
The one who props up our nation, our wealth, our institutions?
The one who blesses our agendas and fits into our systems?

Or is it the Messiah who walks into rejection on purpose — not to glorify suffering, but to confront the systems that cause it?
The Christ who calls us, not to comfort, but to costly, cruciform love?

Peter isn’t the only one who struggles with this question.
We all do.

We struggle with it when our churches preach prosperity instead of presence.
When our leaders claim power instead of humility.
When we build ministries that protect institutions but not the vulnerable.

Sometimes, we want the benefits of Jesus without the burden of following him.
We want the theology of resurrection without the path of crucifixion.

But Mark 8 doesn’t let us off the hook.

Jesus doesn’t just tell Peter he’s wrong.
He tells him to move.

“Get behind me…”
As if to say: this is the way I’m walking. You can still come — but only if you let go of the power you’re clinging to.

This is not a comfortable gospel.

It’s not designed to be.

It’s an invitation to carry something that might cost you everything — but lead you deeper into the heart of God.

And if we are going to call Jesus the Messiah, we have to let him define what that means.
Even — and especially — when it disrupts our expectations.

“Who do you say that I am?”

The answer is not just in our mouths.
It’s in our lives.