Have I missed the mark?

     The gospel this week continues right where left off last week, Matthew 16.21-28.  As a reminder, Peter has just correctly identified Jesus as the Messiah, the Son of God.  It was a moment of hope for the disciples who are constantly getting things wrong - but it was only a moment.  We read this week that while Peter had the correct title, his understanding of what that title meant was a little off base.
     It would seem that from Peter's vehement rebuke of Jesus' proclamation of what must happen, his idea of Messiah was different from Jesus'.  At the time, many Jews were waiting for the Messiah - the Anointed One - but so was the rest of the Roman Empire.  You see, under an oppressive and unjust regime most people were hoping for political salvation from the Romans, and it was said that the one to save them would be the Messiah.  Peter was just reflecting the beliefs of his culture and time, much like many of us would like to be saved from the political and economic mess our own country is in.  But that was not the Messiah that Christ was.
     What Messiah would be born of such humble and low beginnings as one born in a stable to an unwed mother who had no wealth?  Certainly not a political messiah.  No, Jesus the Messiah, the son of the living God was a different sort of savior and he began to show them exactly what sort of savior that was.  Jesus was the Messiah who would undergo suffering and death.  Jesus was the Messiah who had followers that also must take up their crosses and deny themselves.  This was obviously not what Peter expected, because the one who just moments prior had actually gotten it right was now called Satan by Jesus. 
     For us followers of Christ today, I wonder where we, like Peter, get it wrong and misunderstand Christ's death and resurrection?  Where do we forget to take up our own crosses and deny ourselves for the sake of following Jesus?  I must say that in my own life I have experienced more times than I can remember the unexpected nature of God's grace.  Times and places where I would least expect, there, is God.  In fact just this week I was at the hospital and had the privilege of being with a family as their father died.  One of the family members asked if she could say a prayer, and none of us minded; except her prayer was going on, and on, and on... I kept looking around the room and noticing how the rest of the family was so uncomfortable.  I kept watching the heart rate monitor as the life of this man slipped away.  And I kept looking at this woman wishing she would just say amen!  In fact, I was getting rather angry with her, that she could be so selfish as to be speaking and missing the last precious moments with this man.  Except then came God's surprise.  The second she (finally) said 'amen', the man's heart rate went to zero.  The exact minute.  And I was dumbfounded.  If it had been up to me, I would have muzzled this woman, and yet, somehow, in the midst of every one's grief, sorrow, and discomfort with her agonizingly long prayer, God was there.
     This encounter has left me pondering one of the mysteries from this text: Where else have I, like Peter, missed out on God's mission because of my own expectations?