Tag: Matthew 16

The Rock and the Stumbling Block: Lessons from Peter’s Journey

In Matthew 16:13-23, we see one of the most remarkable shifts in a disciple’s relationship with Jesus. It begins with Simon Peter’s stunning confession that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of the living God. Jesus blesses Peter and renames him: “You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overcome it” (v.18). But just moments later, Peter rebukes Jesus for predicting His suffering and death, and Jesus responds with one of the harshest rebukes in Scripture: “Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me; you do not have in mind the concerns of God, but merely human concerns” (v.23).

How do we reconcile these two events? How can Peter, in one moment, be called the foundation of the future church, and in the next, be likened to Satan? These contrasting scenes reveal deep truths about Peter’s journey and the tension in our own Christian lives.

When Peter declares that Jesus is the Messiah, he is making a profound statement that demonstrates divine revelation. Jesus emphasizes this by saying, “flesh and blood did not reveal this to you, but my Father who is in heaven” (v.17). The name change from Simon to Peter (meaning “rock”) symbolizes stability and strength, qualities that will eventually characterize Peter’s leadership in the early church. Jesus’ promise to build His church on Peter is not simply about the man, but about the confession of faith that Peter makes—that Jesus is the Christ.

This moment is a picture of how God often works in our lives: He reveals truths to us and calls us to things we cannot fully grasp in the moment. Peter’s new name is a sign of the leadership role he will grow into, but it doesn’t mean he is fully formed or without weakness. This is crucial for understanding what follows.

Right after Jesus tells the disciples that He must suffer and die, Peter—likely filled with fear and confusion—takes Him aside and rebukes Him: “Never, Lord! This shall never happen to you!” (v.22). Peter’s reaction, while emotionally understandable, is a rejection of Jesus’ mission. He cannot reconcile the idea of a suffering Messiah with his expectations of a victorious one. But by opposing Jesus’ path to the cross, Peter is unknowingly aligning himself with the same temptation Jesus faced in the wilderness—one that would have Him avoid suffering and take a shortcut to glory.

Jesus’ rebuke of Peter, “Get behind me, Satan!” is not a dismissal of Peter as His disciple but a sharp reminder of the danger of thinking from a purely human perspective. Jesus had just called Peter a “rock,” but in this moment, Peter becomes a “stumbling block.” The Greek word here, skandalon, refers to something that causes someone to trip. Peter, in his attempt to protect Jesus from suffering, becomes an obstacle to God’s plan of salvation.

Peter’s journey in this passage reflects the Christian experience in many ways. First, like Peter, we often receive divine revelation about who Jesus is and what He calls us to, but we may not fully understand the cost or the process. Peter wanted the glory of the Kingdom without the suffering of the cross. How often do we desire the benefits of following Jesus without embracing the hardships or sacrifices?

Second, Peter’s misstep shows us that it’s possible to be both called by God and still get things wrong. Jesus didn’t retract His promise to build the church on Peter after the rebuke. This is an important reminder: even when we fail, God’s calling on our lives remains. Jesus didn’t discard Peter for his misunderstanding; instead, He corrected him and continued to disciple him.

Finally, this passage teaches us that following Jesus means having “in mind the concerns of God, not human concerns” (v.23). It’s easy to be like Peter, to try to fit God’s plans into our limited perspective. But discipleship requires us to trust Jesus’ wisdom, even when it doesn’t align with our expectations. Peter thought he was helping Jesus by telling Him to avoid suffering, but in reality, he was working against God’s redemptive plan. Similarly, we might resist hardship in our own lives, not realizing that God often uses trials to shape us and accomplish His purposes.

Just as Peter had to learn that God’s ways are not his ways, we, too, must submit to Jesus’ lead, even when it takes us to uncomfortable or difficult places. The “rock” Peter would become was formed through a process of refinement, a journey of stumbling and restoration that mirrors the Christian walk.

Why Isn’t God More Obvious?

It’s a question that people have asked for centuries: If God exists, why isn’t He more obvious? We long for unmistakable signs—something dramatic to shake us out of doubt or unbelief. But this very demand for a sign is addressed by Jesus Himself in both Mark 8:11-13 and Matthew 16:1-4. When the Pharisees approached Jesus, demanding a sign from heaven to prove who He was, His response was blunt: “No sign will be given to you except the sign of Jonah.” Essentially, Jesus was saying that if they couldn’t see what was already in front of them, no further proof would change their minds.

Why, then, does Jesus reject the Pharisees’ request for a sign, and what does that say about us today? First, we have to understand that the Pharisees weren’t looking for evidence out of an earnest desire to believe. They had already seen countless miracles—healings, exorcisms, and even resurrections—but refused to acknowledge the significance of what was happening. The request for a sign wasn’t about seeking truth; it was a way to test or trap Jesus, hoping to discredit Him. Their hearts were hardened, and even the clearest revelation wouldn’t have softened them.

Jesus’ response was not an unwillingness to demonstrate His power but rather a statement that God’s work cannot be reduced to spectacle. He had already shown them who He was through His life and ministry, and yet they remained blind. This is why the “sign of Jonah”—a reference to His future resurrection—was the ultimate sign they would receive. If they couldn’t see the truth in His words and works, not even the resurrection would open their eyes.

This speaks directly to the question of why God isn’t more obvious. In many ways, He is obvious. The beauty and order of creation, the intricacy of the human conscience, the life and death of Jesus, and the power of Scripture are all profound revelations of God. But like the Pharisees, many of us demand something more, not because we lack evidence, but because we struggle with the implications of surrendering to that evidence. The desire for a more “obvious” God often stems from a reluctance to submit to Him.

The issue, then, is not God’s hiddenness but our willingness to see Him. We may claim to seek clarity, but the deeper question is whether we truly want to find Him. As Jesus said, “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God” (Matthew 5:8).

In a world filled with distractions, it’s easy to look past the everyday ways that God reveals Himself. We may not get the signs we think we need, but we have something better: the life of Christ, the testimony of Scripture, and the witness of transformed lives.

So, why isn’t God more obvious? Perhaps the better question is: Are we willing to see Him as He has revealed Himself? If we continually ask for more signs without acting on what we’ve already been given, we’re not so different from the Pharisees. And just as Jesus called them to repentance, He calls us to trust what has already been shown—the cross, the resurrection, and His ongoing work in the world.