In one of the climactic passages of the synoptic Gospels, Jesus takes Peter and his disciples northward into the region of Caesarea Philippi. This area is high in both latitude and altitude. Caesarea Philippi was built on the southern slope of Mount Hermon, the highest mountain in the Holy Land. One of the three primary springs that feed the Jordan River is located here. The Hermon River flows through the area and into the Jordan. Today the area is a beautiful nature reserve, a peaceful place with lots of vegetation and flowing water, located in the region called the Golan Heights.
In ancient times the spring flowed through a cave the Greeks dedicated to the deity Pan. The Romans later assigned the district to Herod the Great, who erected a temple to Augustus there, placing the image of the emperor near the altar of Pan. After Herod’s death, his son Philip beautified the area and named it Caesarea in honor of the emperor. It became known as Caesarea Philippi (“the Caesar city of Philip”) to distinguish it from Caesarea Maritima, a city on the Mediterranean coast.
So in New Testament times, Caearea Philippi was a place to worship Pan and to honor Caesar. It was to this pastoral and pagan setting that Jesus came at the peak of his Galilean ministry. Here Jesus would ask Peter that essential question for all disciples to answer: “Who do you say that I am?” Here also Jesus would name Peter the rock of his church, the sure foundation on which his new community of disciples would be built.
The first few times I visited this place, I couldn’t figure out why Jesus would come here with his disciples. It is quite a distance from the Jewish areas of Galilee and it seems quite out of the way from Jesus’ usual course near the Sea of Galilee. As I began to bring pilgrimage groups to this place, I enjoyed with them the scenic drive into the heights of the Golan. But when we came to Caesarea Philippi, there was no shrine or chapel, no statue of Peter with his keys. I wasn’t able to relate the Gospel texts to the place itself in any meaningful way.
When I asked myself the question, “Why did Jesus come to this place?” I gradually discovered a variety of reasons. Caesarea Philippi was the most pagan place in all of Palestine. Most Jews would avoid it altogether because of its connection with bestiality and fertility rituals associated with the worship of Pan. And nothing could be further from worship of the one God than offering sacrifice to the emperor and calling on him as lord of the world and savior of all. I believe Jesus journeyed here to push the boundaries of his disciples’ understanding of the extent of God’s saving love.
In contrast to the Greco-Roman religions, whose foremost concern was appeasing the gods by doing whatever ritual actions would gain their favor, the kingdom preached by Jesus involved bringing God’s saving presence to those most lost and in need. Jesus showed the way by drawing close to tax collectors and all sorts of public sinners. He reached out to people whom others avoided. He went out of his way to find those most lost and living in darkness.
This seemed to be a reasonable first step in answering my question, “Why did Jesus come to Caesarea Philippi?” However, I later discovered that this was only one of several reasons Jesus brought his disciples to this high and distant place at this defining moment of his ministry. I will reveal to you the other reasons as we explore the Gospel passages associated with this important site.
Mark structures his Gospel in two large sections. The first half of the book focuses on Jesus teaching the disciples his identity. “Who is Jesus?” is the question that dominates part one of Mark. The second half of the Gospel demonstrates Jesus teaching the way of discipleship. “What does it mean to follow Jesus?” dominates part two. The first half comes to its climax as Jesus is traveling northward with his disciples and asks them an important question:
Jesus went on with his disciples to the villages of Caesarea Philippi; and on the way he asked his disciples, “Who do people say that I am?” And they answered him, “John the Baptist; and others, Elijah; and still others, one of the prophets.” He asked them, “But who do you say that I am?” Peter answered him, “You are the Messiah.” And he sternly ordered them not to tell anyone about him. (Mark 8:27–30)
Realizing that many people misunderstood his identity, mistaking him for a prophet, Jesus asked his disciples directly, “But who do you say I am?” This is the central question of the gospel message. The question about who Jesus is leaps off the pages of history and into the heart of every reader of this Gospel.
The first half of Mark’s book leads up to this question. Jesus revealed himself as a teacher and healer with divine authority, the bridegroom, the Lord of the Sabbath, the sower of God’s word, the great physician, and the shepherd who feeds God’s people. Yet he also met with persistent resistance and continual misunderstanding. His teaching in parables and his great deeds both revealed and concealed his true identity. “Who do you say that I am?” must be answered completely by every individual who chooses to be his disciple.
Peter, no longer just the spokesperson for the disciples but responding on his own behalf, answers, “You are the Messiah.” His insightful response represents a dramatic breakthrough. He recognizes Jesus as the one through whom God will accomplish all that he promised. Yet while Peter’s identification of Jesus is correct, we soon learn that Peter and the others still have a totally inaccurate understanding of what Jesus’ identity as the Messiah entails.
After Peter’s answer, Jesus ordered his disciples to keep quiet about his identity. This strange warning, which occurs frequently in Mark’s Gospel, prevented the disciples from spreading the word about Jesus’ messianic identity. Acclaiming Jesus as the Messiah, the king of Israel, would lead the crowds to try to make him their royal leader, and thus bring down the wrath of the Roman authorities.
Rather than allowing his disciples to announce him as Messiah, in the second half of this Gospel Jesus gradually revealed what it means to be the Messiah. It was far different from the common perception of the day—that the Messiah would be a military conqueror who would lead the Jews to freedom from Roman oppression. Rather, his followers would grow to understand that Jesus was a suffering Messiah, the servant of God, whose full identity could be revealed and understood only at the cross.
Taking his lead from Mark’s Gospel, Matthew follows a similar structure in his Gospel, with the first half of his Gospel culminating with Jesus’ arrival “into the district of Caesarea Philippi.” Matthew repeats the question of Jesus, “But who do you say that I am?” Simon Peter’s profession of faith is followed by an extended response from Jesus.
Simon Peter answered, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” And Jesus answered him, “Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah! For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father in heaven. And I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not prevail against it.” (Matthew 16:16–18)
Peter’s response expresses a faith that is not possible simply through human insight but only through God’s grace. Because Peter has spoken not through human experience but rather through divine revelation, Jesus declares him uniquely blessed.
Now that Simon Peter has announced who Jesus is, Jesus declares who Peter is. Jesus gives Simon the new name, “Peter,” which, in effect, bestows upon him a new identity. In the Hebrew Scriptures, God gave new names to those who took on major roles at critical times in God’s plan for his people. Abram and Sarai became Abraham and Sarah; Jacob became Israel. In the language of Matthew’s Gospel, the Greek name Petros creates a wordplay with petra, the Greek word for “rock.” In Aramaic, however, the language of Jesus and the early church, the saying is more exact: “You are Kepha, and on this kepha I will build my church.” The parallelism makes it clear that Peter himself is the rock, the sturdy foundation upon which Jesus will construct his church.
Jesus has already declared that any wise builder constructs his house on rock (Matthew 7:24–25). With such a solid base, the house will not fall despite the fiercest of storms. Now Jesus announces that he will build his church on the foundation of Peter, “and the gates of Hades will not prevail against it.”
The Hebrew word for Hades is Sheol, the abode of the dead. It is depicted in Hebrew literature as located in the depths of the earth. In Greek religion, Hades was the place where the souls of the dead arrived, entering through gates kept fast by locks. Thus, “the gates of Hades” represents the powers of the underworld to keep the dead imprisoned in its realm. The powers of death are crushing and terrifying for human beings. Yet Jesus assures Peter that his church will not be overcome by any powers that oppose it. Jesus knew that the Roman Empire would try to crush it through torture and death of its members, but the blood of the martyrs would only strengthen the church’s witness.
As I continue to take pilgrimage groups to Caesarea Philippi, the answer to my question, “Why did Jesus bring Peter and the other disciples to this place?” becomes increasingly apparent. “What do you see here?” I ask the groups. There is no shrine or church for liturgy, no statue of Peter, none of the usual markers for an important gospel site. The most obvious image that dominates the site is a massive wall of rock.
Surely Jesus compared the huge rock at this site with Peter, the foundation of his church. Of course Jesus didn’t need to come to this mountain of rock to make his point. Yet, up to this point Jesus had taught about God’s kingdom using the images around him: growing seeds, flying birds and blooming flowers, shepherds guiding their sheep, nets full of fish. Jesus didn’t need to stretch his listeners’ imaginations; these object lessons were present on site. So too, the rock. The parallel is inescapable. Just as the city before them was built on a distinctive massive wall of rock, so Simon was to become the indestructible Rock of Jesus’ future church. While Caesarea Philippi was built upon this wall of rock to offer sacrifice to Caesar and the pagan god Pan, Jesus established his church to offer sacrifice and give honor to the one true God, the Father of Jesus Christ.
But there is another sight here that is impossible to miss: the large entrance to a cave. To the pagan mind, the cave created a gate to the underworld. Underground water flowing within a cave was the sure indication that the area served as a path to and from the shadowy world called Hades. This gate of Hades at Caesarea Philippi was believed to be the way for the fertility gods to go to the underworld during the dry season, only to be coaxed out again with fertility rituals when rains were due to come.
The Greek god Pan shared the horns, hindquarters, legs, and hooves of a goat. He was god of shepherd and flocks, of fruitfulness and the season of spring. The worship of Pan simply replaced the cult of the older Canaanite baals of the area. Rebellious kings of Israel had angered God and provoked the wrath of the prophets by allowing the worship of such idols. The temple to Pan was simply a newer incarnation of the human tendency to placate the gods so that they would bring prosperity. The names of the gods changed, but similar rituals show that these religions are really about placating the gods.
Here in this pagan place, Jesus first revealed his desire to establish a church. It would be built on Peter the rock, and the gates of Hades would never prevail against it. As Peter professed, Jesus is the Son of the living God, not the recycled gods of ancient myths. His church would not be concerned with winning divine favors through animal sacrifices or sexual rituals. Rather, it would possess the Spirit of the living God, moving disciples of Jesus to spread the good news of salvation to the world’s dark places and its lost inhabitants.
By coming to Caesarea Philippi, Jesus showed Peter and his disciples that no place or person is God-forsaken, and that God’s love is more expansive than they could ever imagine.
Throughout the history of Christian art, beginning in the eighth century, Peter is depicted holding one or two large keys. The keys of Peter are symbols of the authority Jesus bestowed on him. Peter was given the means to open the way to God’s kingdom through his preaching and his leadership within the church.
Immediately after Jesus gave Simon the name Peter and declared him the strong foundation of his church, Jesus further described the type of leadership Peter would offer:
I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven. (Matthew 16:19)
The “keys of the kingdom” given to Peter resemble another “key” image from Isaiah the prophet. A certain Eliakim is made “master of the household” and given “the key of the house of David,” with the authority to open and shut the gates for those seeking entry into the realm (Isaiah 22:22). Clearly the text of Matthew’s Gospel was influenced by this text from the prophet. As keeper of the keys, Peter was made the master of Jesus’ household, with the privilege of welcoming people into the church.
The master of the royal household in Israelite culture was the highest official in the land, the one the king appointed to be his prime minister. In ancient Egypt this position was called the vizier, the highest official of the state whom the king appointed to fulfill his sovereign wishes. In other cultures the position was called the king’s vicar or chamberlain.
Eliakim was appointed as master of King Hezekiah’s household, clothed with the marks of his royal office, and given the authority reserved to the king.
On that day I will call my servant Eliakim son of Hilkiah, and will clothe him with your robe and bind your sash on him. I will commit your authority to his hand, and he shall be a father to the inhabitants of Jerusalem and to the house of Judah. I will place on his shoulder the key of the house of David; he shall open, and no one shall shut; he shall shut, and no one shall open. (Isaiah 22:21–22)
God says that Eliakim will be a “father” to the inhabitants of the kingdom, exercising familial care to all the citizens of the realm. “The house of David” was the inherited kingship which began with King David and extended in succession to Israel’s Messiah, the anticipated “son of David.” Holding the key to this house symbolized the authority the king entrusts to his prime minister. The king never relinquishes his authority, but he delegates his authority to his highest official to administer the affairs of the kingdom.
Associated with the power of the key, given to the king’s vicar, is the authority to “open” and to “shut”: “he shall open, and no one shall shut; he shall shut, and no one shall open.” Clearly this refers to much more than the ability to open a door or a gate. It is associated with the authority Jesus gives to Peter, to “bind” and to “loose.” The keeper of the keys has authority within the kingdom as administrator and teacher. The language of binding and loosing is terminology used by the rabbis of Jesus’ day for authoritative teaching, the creation of halakah. This form of teaching refers to the creation of laws and norms based on the authority to interpret the Torah and apply it to particular cases. It is legislation not written down in the Jewish Scriptures but based on the oral interpretation of them, declaring what is permitted and what is not permitted. The rabbis were said to bind when they forbade something and to loose when they permitted it.
This was the position Jesus created for Peter. While still retaining his sovereignty, Jesus entrusted the keys of the kingdom to Peter, his earthly vicar. So Peter was not like a doorkeeper, opening and closing the gates of heaven and deciding who gets in or is left out, as he is sometimes depicted in cartoons or jokes. Rather, the authority of Peter was the regulation of the affairs of the kingdom. He was the vicar of Christ, chamberlain of Christ’s household, the prime minister of the realm. Peter was charged with making decisions, based on the teachings of Jesus, which would be authoritative throughout the kingdom: “Whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.”
The key of David’s house, the authority of the master of the household, was passed down through successive generations during the monarchy of Judah. The title of master of the household is given to Ahishar during the reign of King Solomon (1 Kings 4:6). Other holders of this office specifically mentioned in the Old Testament are Arza under the reign of King Elah (1 Kings 16:9) and Obadiah under the reign of King Ahab (1 Kings 18:3). So it seems that this office and its authority were handed down through the history of Judah’s monarchy. Whereas the kingship was an inherited office, passed from father to son, the office of the king’s vicar was given by appointment.
Jesus, the eternal Son of David, reigns over an everlasting kingdom and his reign never ends. It seems, though, that the office to which Jesus appointed Peter, his earthly vicar, should continue in every generation. Jesus needs a master of the household for his church, and that need will not diminish until he comes again to reign in glory. We will see later that this is exactly how the early theologians of the church interpreted this passage and the tradition of Peter.
The visions of the book of Revelation announce that Jesus Christ himself holds “the keys of Death and of Hades” and the “key of David.” He is the one “who opens and no one will shut, who shuts and no one opens” (Revelation 1:18; 3:7). This power of the keys belongs to Christ alone. He is the Lord who has conquered the underworld and ultimately controls its power. He is the Son of David who holds the key to God’s kingdom. As the Lord of light and life, he preserves his church, and the gates of Hades will not prevail against it.
However, the Risen Lord delegates this authority to Peter on earth. The keys are entrusted to Peter and to the church’s Petrine office. Peter is the rock on which the church is built; he holds the keys that belong to Christ and is ready to relinquish those keys when Jesus Christ returns in glory at the end of time.
Later in Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus extends the power “to bind and to loose” to the church as a whole (Matthew 18:18). The community gathered in his name is invested with his saving presence and power. Its authority to bind and loose, as mentioned in this instance, seems to be mainly juridical, having the authority to declare what is permitted and not permitted, to exclude a person from the community for a persistent offense, and to reconcile that person with the community. This authority of the church, as it was interpreted in the early tradition, includes the authority to interpret and apply the teachings of Jesus, to pronounce doctrinal judgments, and to make disciplinary decisions for the community.
Jesus named only Peter as the rock of his church and gave the keys of the kingdom to him alone. Yet the power of the keys—the authority to bind and loose—is shared in the church when it is joined with Peter. Working through Peter, Jesus preserved in his church the unity of faith that he desired for his followers in the world. As the authoritative leader in the community of the early church, Peter received revelations and made decisions about the church’s life and practices that had far-reaching consequences. He was a visible sign and an effective instrument for Christ’s church, keeping it solidly built on a firm foundation and protected from all the powers that threaten and could prevail against it.
After Peter proclaimed Jesus to be the Messiah, the Son of the living God, and Jesus established Peter as the rock of the church, Jesus began to explain more deeply to his disciples the meaning of his own life. He turned from teaching and healing, which characterized the first half of the Gospel accounts, to preparing his disciples for his cross and death. Jesus explained that it was not his mission to be a powerful, conquering Messiah or a glorious, regal Son of God. There was no other way, he said, than the way of the cross. Suffering and death would be the inevitable results of his life of self-giving, generous love.
This kind of talk was altogether too much for the impulsive Peter. How could the long-awaited king, the great hope of Israel, come to such a disgraceful end? He took Jesus aside and “began to rebuke him, saying, ‘God forbid it, Lord! This must never happen to you’” (Matthew 16:22). This showed how far Peter was from understanding the implications of Jesus’ mission. Peter thought he knew better than Jesus what it would mean for Jesus to be the Messiah and Son of God. His retort was no doubt motivated by love for Jesus and probably by some fear for his own life. If Jesus was going to be put to death, what might that mean for those who follow him?
Jesus’ response to Peter records some of the harshest words recorded from Jesus’ mouth. Jesus called Peter “Satan,” a tempter.
[Jesus] turned and said to Peter, “Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me; for you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.” (Matthew 16:23)
Peter was trying to deflect Jesus from the path that God had set before him. Peter was tempting Jesus to take the easy way out, to give in to selfish desires for security and glory. Jesus replied, calling Peter an obstacle, “a stumbling block” in his path. The rock of the church had become an obstruction to Jesus’ mission.
Yet Jesus did not say to Peter, “Away with you, Satan,” as he had told the devil when he was tempted in the wilderness of Judea. Rather, Jesus told Peter, “Get behind me, Satan,” commanding him to resume his position as a follower, walking behind Jesus as he gradually discovered through his mistakes and failures what it meant to be a disciple of his Lord.
Despite the spotlight that shines on the figure of Peter throughout the Gospels, the evangelists refuse to idealize him. They highlight his weaknesses and his breakdowns as well as his sturdy faith and preeminent role among the disciples. Before Peter could truly follow Jesus, he had to learn the cost of discipleship.
Then Jesus told his disciples, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.” (Matthew 16:24–25)
Peter had to learn from Jesus how to replace his self-centered ambition with a willingness to sacrifice himself. He had to learn how to lose himself in Christ, to take up the Messiah’s mission, his way of life, and his very identity as his own. Peter had to learn that being a disciple of Jesus means taking up the cross—not grudgingly enduring it but embracing it, willing to suffer for the gospel—and getting behind Jesus to follow his lead.
Surely the Gospel writers intended the lessons of Peter to be lessons necessary for the whole church. Like Peter, the community of disciples must learn that it is not enough to confess Jesus as Messiah and Son of God. We must acknowledge him as the suffering and crucified Lord, and we must express this confession not only in verbal doctrine but also in practice. The church of Jesus Christ must be a cruciform church, shaped and transformed by the cross.
What are some of the reasons Jesus brought Peter and the disciples to the far northern city of Caesarea Philippi?
In what ways was Peter’s response to Jesus’ question, “Who do you say I am?” accurate but inadequate?
How does a fuller understanding of Isaiah’s prophecy help you to understand Peter’s position as keeper of the “keys of the kingdom”?
Why do the Gospel writers highlight Peter’s weaknesses and his breakdowns along with his sturdy faith and preeminent role among the disciples?
What does Peter’s transformation from rock to stumbling block teach you about the way of discipleship? What does it teach the church?