Author: Daily Virtue

There’s an oddity in the gospels that begs for an explanation: Jesus, it seems, doesn’t want people to know his true identity as the Christ, the Messiah. He keeps warning people not to reveal that he is the Messiah. Why?

Some scholars refer to this as “the messianic secret”, suggesting that Jesus did not want others to know his true identity until the conditions were ripe for it. There’s some truth in that, there’s a right moment for everything, but that still leaves the question unanswered: Why? Why does Jesus want to keep his true identity secret? What would constitute the right conditions within which his identity should be revealed?

At Caesarea Philippi, when Jesus asks his disciples: “Who do you say that I am?” Peter answers: “You are the Christ.” Peter has the right answer, but the wrong conception of that answer. He has a false notion of what means to be the Messiah.

In the centuries leading up to the birth of Jesus and among Jesus’ contemporaries there were numerous notions of what the Christ would look like. We don’t know which notion Peter had but obviously it wasn’t the right one because Jesus immediately shuts it down. What Jesus says to Peter is not so much: “Don’t tell anyone that I’m the Christ” but rather “Don’t tell anyone that I am what you think the Christ should be. That’s not who I am.”

When Peter says: “You are the Christ!” that’s how he’s thinking about it, as earthily glory, worldly triumph, as a man so powerful, strong, attractive, and invulnerable that everyone would simply have to fall at his feet. Hence Jesus’ sharp reply: “Don’t tell anyone about that!” Jesus then goes on to instruct Peter, and the rest of us, who he really is a Savior. He’s not a Superman or Superstar in this world or a miracle worker who will prove his power through spectacular deeds. Who is he? How do we imagine the Messiah?  How do we imagine triumph? Imagine Glory?  If Jesus looked us square in the eye and asked, as he asked Peter: “How do you understand me?” Would he laud us for our answer or would he tell us: “Don’t tell anyone about that!”[Excerpt from Ron Rolheiser’s “How does God Act in Our World?” January 2018]

There’s an axiom in philosophy that asserts that the way we perceive and judge is deeply influenced and colored by our own interiority. That’s why it’s never possible to be fully objective and that’s why five people can witness the same event, see the same thing, and have five very different versions of what happened. Thomas Aquinas expressed this in a famous axiom: Whatever is received is received according to the mode of its receiver.  

We see this in Jesus, in how he perceived and in how he judged. His was a blessed consciousness. As the gospels describe it, at his baptism, the heavens opened and God’s voice was heard to say: “This is my blessed one, in whom I take delight.” And, it seems, for the rest of his life Jesus was always in some way conscious of his Father saying that to him: “You are my blessed one!” As a consequence, he was able to look out at the world and say: “Blessed are you when you are poor, or when you are persecuted, or suffering in any way. You are always blessed, no matter your circumstance in life.” He knew his own blessedness, felt it, and, because of that, could operate out of a blessed consciousness, a consciousness that could look out and see others and the world as blessed.

Sadly, for many of us, the opposite is true: We perceive others and the world not through a blessed consciousness but through a cursed consciousness.  We have been cursed and because of that, in whatever subtle ways, we curse others. Cursing is what we do when we look at someone whom we don’t like and think or say: “I wish you weren’t here!  I hate your presence! I wish you’d go away!” Cursing is what we do when we affronted by the joyous screams of a child and we say: “Shut up! Don’t irritate me!” Cursing is what we do when we look at someone and think or say: “What an idiot! What a jerk!” The residual result of this “cursing” is shame, depression, and a cursed consciousness.

Whatever is received is received according to the mode its receiver. Our harsh judgments of others say less about them than they say about us. Our negativity about others and the world speaks mostly of how bruised and wounded, ashamed and depressed, we are – and how little we ourselves have ever heard anyone say to us: “In you I take delight! [Excerpt from Ron Rolheiser’s “On Blessed and Cursed Consciousness” March 2011]

Discipleship must involve a focus on both Jesus and the wider mystery of Christ. A personal relationship with Jesus provides a grounding, but one must also understand the cosmic dimension of Christ—the “energy that lures creation towards its Creator” and the “soul that binds the whole of physical creation together”.

Being rooted in Christ is not a purely individual endeavor. It means being integrated into the visible community of believers, the Church, which Rolheiser calls the “more flawed body of Christ on here on earth”. This commitment to a community is non-negotiable for authentic Christian conversion. Christian discipleship is a lifelong process with three main stages:

Essential Discipleship: The early stage involves the “struggle to get our lives together.” This period, often beginning in adolescence, focuses on finding one’s identity, meaning, and place in the world.
Mature Discipleship: In adulthood, the focus shifts to the “struggle to give our lives away.” This is a generative stage of living for others and giving back to the community. Qualities like empathy, forgiveness, and gratitude define this phase.
Radical Discipleship: The final stage, often late in life, is the “struggle to give our deaths away.” This involves accepting diminishment and mortality with grace, much like Jesus’s passivity during his passion. By dying well and without bitterness, one can leave a final blessing for the world.

Rootedness in Christ requires honesty with oneself, a willingness to admit our faults and stop rationalizing our failures. For Rolheiser, “No honest heart will stray far or stay long from the truth,” and honest self-acknowledgment allows Christ to find and heal us. A life rooted in Christ is ultimately a life overflowing with gratitude. For Rolheiser, the deepest reality is that we have all been touched by “loving hands”. Living in gratitude for this reality is a mark of a mature disciple. [Adapted from Ron Rolheiser’s teaching on being “rooted” in Christ]