August 23, 2026

The Rev’d Michael J. Horvath
Romans 12:1–8
Matthew 16:13–20

Jesus takes the disciples to Caesarea Philippi and asks them a question. It begins as a survey question: “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?” The disciples seem happy to report the results. John the Baptist received several votes. Elijah polled well among traditionalists. Jeremiah had a respectable showing. “One of the prophets” covered the undecided voters. The disciples had clearly been listening to the conversations around them.

Then Jesus changes the question. “But who do you say that I am?”

Suddenly the survey becomes an oral examination.

Peter answers, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” It is one of Peter’s finest moments. He gets the answer exactly right. Peter has plenty of other moments in the Gospels when his mouth begins working several seconds before his brain arrives. Today everything comes together. He sees Jesus clearly, speaks courageously, and receives a blessing.

Jesus responds, “You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church.”

That future tense deserves our attention: “I will build my church.” Jesus speaks of the Church as something still being built. He sees a community taking shape through the work of God. He sees lives being transformed, gifts being discovered, leaders being raised up, mercy being practiced, and the kingdom of heaven breaking into the world. Jesus sees construction underway.

This may come as troubling news to Episcopalians, since many of us prefer a church that achieved completion around 1928. Everything was placed properly. Everyone knew which pew belonged to which family. Then Jesus arrives and announces an active construction project.

Construction involves movement. It produces dust. Occasionally somebody discovers that the measurements were off. Anyone who has renovated a kitchen understands that “substantial completion” is a deeply theological phrase. Jesus says, “I will build my church,” and two thousand years later we remain surrounded by scaffolding.

The good news is that Jesus remains the builder. The Church ultimately belongs to Christ. Its life depends upon his grace, his presence, and his purposes. We participate in the work, while Christ directs the project. He sees possibilities that escape our vision. He calls gifts out of people who may have overlooked those gifts in themselves. He creates openings where we see solid walls. He builds a future from materials that appear rather ordinary.

Peter makes a fascinating choice for a foundation stone. He is enthusiastic, generous, impulsive, occasionally confused, and frequently in need of further instruction. In the very next passage, Peter will rebuke Jesus and receive a spectacular correction. Jesus knows all of this. He still calls Peter blessed. He still gives Peter responsibility. He still includes Peter in the building of the Church.

Jesus builds with people who remain under construction themselves.

That includes every one of us. We bring genuine gifts, sincere faith, accumulated wisdom, old wounds, unfinished growth, and a few opinions about where every piece of furniture belongs. Christ takes this collection of human beings and says, “I can build a church with them.”

Paul describes how this happens in his Letter to the Romans. He calls the community toward transformation through the renewing of their minds. He asks them to discern what is good and pleasing to God. Then he speaks of the Church as one body with many members. Each member has a particular function. Each person receives gifts according to grace.

Paul names prophecy, ministry, teaching, encouragement, generosity, leadership, and compassion. His list feels wonderfully practical. The Church needs people who can speak a truthful word and people who can prepare a meal. It needs people who can teach and people who can encourage. It needs people who can give generously and people who can organize everybody else’s generosity into something useful. It needs diligent leaders and cheerful practitioners of mercy.

Paul offers a vision of the Church where ministry belongs to the whole body. Every person carries some expression of God’s grace. Every gift contributes to the health of the community. The hand has its work. The eye has its work. The heart has its work. The spleen presumably has its work.

The body thrives through the contribution of all its members. A congregation becomes fully alive when people move from attending church to recognizing themselves as part of the Church Christ is building. Attendance asks, “What is happening here today?” Belonging asks, “What has God entrusted to me for the sake of this community and the world?”

And the world needs that kind of Church. By Church, I mean the people Christ gathers into a living body: people who learn to belong to one another, carry one another’s burdens, speak truth with love, practice forgiveness, share what they possess, and remember the dignity of every human being.

We live in a society filled with loneliness, suspicion, and division. People are sorted into political camps, economic categories, generations, races, and social identities. Much of modern life teaches us to view one another as competitors, customers, audiences, or problems to be solved. Human worth becomes measured by productivity, influence, appearance, or purchasing power. The Church proclaims another vision. Here, our value begins with the love of God. Here, the stranger becomes a neighbor. Here, sorrow receives companionship, joy becomes communal, and people separated by the habits of the world gather around one table.

The Church offers society a living witness that community across difference remains possible. It creates a place where an eighty-year-old and an eight-year-old share the same identity as beloved children of God. It brings people together around a story larger than their individual preferences. It teaches us that strength includes tenderness, leadership includes service, and abundance grows through generosity. At its best, the Church becomes a school for learning how to be human together.

Christ builds a community around shared grace. The Church gathers people with different experiences, temperaments, abilities, and perspectives and makes them members of one another. Such a community offers the world more than another institution. It offers a glimpse of reconciliation. It shows what life can become when love has the final word.

This requires the gifts of the whole body. Churches easily become organized around a small group of dependable people. Every parish has them. They arrive early, stay late, remember where the extension cords are stored, and somehow possess a key to every closet on the property. We give thanks for them, as we should. Then one Sunday we realize that the same six people are planning the parish picnic, serving on three committees, arranging the flowers, counting the offering, and searching the closets for those extension cords.

Paul offers a broader and healthier vision. Grace has been distributed throughout the body. The work of the Church grows through shared ministry. Leadership becomes an act of calling forth the gifts of others. Mature leaders create room for emerging leaders. Experienced members pass along wisdom. New members bring fresh vision. People receive support as they try something new. Everyone grows through the experience.

Renewal involves learning to see the Church as Christ sees it: alive with gifts waiting to be recognized. We may look at someone and see a person who sits four pews from the back. Christ may see a teacher. We may see a quiet newcomer at coffee hour. Christ may see a compassionate visitor, a generous giver, or a future leader. We may see someone who has already served for many years. Christ may see a mentor whose greatest contribution will come through preparing another person to serve.

Jesus continues building his Church through all of them.

Sometimes we speak about the Church as though its finest days live somewhere in the past. Jesus speaks in the future tense. “I will build my church.” He directs our attention toward what grace is doing next. The future Church may carry familiar treasures in fresh ways. Its leadership may come from unexpected people. Its ministry may take forms that earlier generations could scarcely imagine. The foundation remains Jesus Christ, the Son of the living God. Upon that foundation, the building continues.

Jesus asks, “Who do you say that I am?” Our answer comes through words, and then our lives give those words flesh. If he is the Messiah, we can trust him with the future of his Church. If he is the Son of the living God, then living grace continues to move among us. If he is the builder, then each of us can place our gifts in his hands.

Christ is still building his Church. He is building it with Peter. He is building it with Paul. He is building it with teachers, leaders, givers, encouragers, servants, and practitioners of mercy. He is building it with seasoned saints and curious newcomers. He is building it with people who know exactly where they are going and people who recently discovered the correct door into the parish hall.

And, by the mercy of God, he is building it with us. Amen.