The Rev. Brandon C. Ashcraft
Trinity Church in the City of Boston
Matthew 16:21-28
The Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost / Proper 17A (August 30, 2026)
The Gracious Rebuke
Twenty-eight thousand people took a tour of Trinity Church last year.1This includes self-guided tours, audio tours, and tours led by a Trinity Tour Guide. Our building is a ministry unto itself. More than a beautiful building, these are living stones. The visionaries who conceived this space 150 years ago knew that art and architecture need not be passive but could be part of the conversation. These murals, mosaics, and stained-glass windows all around us tell the stories of our faith. Alongside the word proclaimed, and the sacrament shared, the building shapes and forms us into the likeness of Christ.
When I went looking on our walls for the story we just heard, I struggled, at first, to find it. Apparently, the Jesus who says, “Get behind me, Satan!” is not a stained-glass favorite. But hiding in the lower corner of the South Transept, I stumbled upon a clue. In the window depicting Jesus stilling the storm on the Sea of Galilee.2An image of the window can be found here. Produced by Cottier & Co. of London, 1878, it was given “In memory of John Fenno. Born in Boston September 21 A. D. 1779. Died at sea April 19 A. D. 1820. Buried in the Indian Ocean. This window was given by his widow and his children.” Standing in a boat, surrounded by frantic disciples, our Lord calmly and stoically raises one arm. Almost every English translation of the Bible chooses the same word to describe what Jesus does next. Jesus does not calm the winds. Jesus does not quiet the waters. He rebukes them.3The Greek word in both Matthew 8:26 and Mark 4:39 is ἐπιτιμάω / epitimaó. Most English translations use “rebuke.” Exceptions include the CEB (“gave orders to”) and CEV (“got up and ordered”).
Much like its counterpart in ancient Greek, the word “rebuke” packs a forceful punch. A rebuke is more than a gentle admonishment. A rebuke is an authoritative correction. And today’s Gospel features another dramatic rebuke. Only, this time Jesus is not the giver, but the receiver. And when the apostle Peter dares to rebuke the Son of God, it doesn’t seem to go well for him.
A lot has changed for Peter in a week’s time. Just last Sunday, he earned high praise from Jesus for his confession of faith. “You are the Messiah,” he confidently proclaimed, “the Son of the living God.”4Matthew 16:16. An even commemorated by the Church each year in the Feast of the Confession of St. Peter on January 18. A confession worthy of his name: Peter, the rock. And while Peter gets the answer right, he does not comprehend what his answer means. Today, Peter discovers what kind of Messiah Jesus will be. Not the triumphant Messiah he was expecting. Nor the conquering Christ he was hoping would deliver Israel. But the One who will suffer and die before rising on the third day. In response to this revelation, Peter delivers his defiant rebuke: “God forbid it, Lord! This must never happen to you.” As if to say: Yes Jesus, by all means, be the Messiah. But not this way. Not through suffering. Nor through death.
And Jesus meets Peter’s rebuke with one of his own.5Mark’s account of this exchange repeats the use of epitimaō (“rebuke”) in describing Jesus’ response to Peter. Peter “rebukes” Jesus, and Jesus in turn “rebukes” Peter. In Matthew, however, Jesus does not answer Peter with a “rebuke”; he simply “says” to Peter, “Get behind me, Satan!” While Matthew may not identify Jesus’ response as a “rebuke” per se, it nonetheless has the force of one. One of the harshest lines spoken anywhere in the Gospel: “Get behind me, Satan!” To our ears, it sounds like Jesus has resorted to name-calling. But his response is deeper – more layered – than that. His invocation of Satan takes us back in time, as we flashback to his 40 days in the wilderness.6The Revised Common Lectionary presents a synoptic account of Jesus being tempted in the wilderness by Satan each year of the three-year lectionary on the First Sunday in Lent. The congregation would have heard Matthew’s account (4:1-11) on February 22, 2026. When Satan tempted Jesus three times to use his power to save himself. Each time the devil tempted Jesus with an easier path or a softer way, Jesus refused him. Jesus refused every path that would lead him away from the cross. In the world Jesus lived in, Satan wasn’t the red man with horns and a pitchfork we know from the movies. “Satan” was the adversary.7Bo The Hebrew שָׂטָן (śāṭān), from which the Greek Σατανᾶς (Satanas) derives, carries the sense of “adversary” or “accuser.” The opponent. The one who stood in the way of God’s plan.
So when Peter tries to steer Jesus away from the cross, he has unknowingly recreated that moment in the wilderness. When Peter’s rebuke puts him out in front of Jesus, he becomes an obstacle on Jesus’ path. An obstruction. “Get behind me, Satan” is less about name-calling and more about removing a stumbling block on Jesus’ path to the cross. The call to “Get behind me” reminds Peter of his proper location. For only when Peter gets back behind Jesus – where he can follow – only then can he take his place as a disciple.
It’s no different for you and for me. Like Peter, we, too, can get ahead of Jesus. We can forget the covenant forged in our baptism, a covenant we’ll remember next week when we baptize four new Christians. Each of whom will be asked, just as we were, “Will you promise to follow…[Jesus] as your Lord?”8The full text is: “Do you promise to follow and obey [Jesus Christ] as your Lord?” The Book of Common Prayer, p.303. And the Jesus we promise to follow is the crucified Messiah. A promise to follow him doesn’t shield us from suffering. But it does promise us his presence when the path leads through it.
Much of the time, we’re happy to follow Jesus toward resurrection; we’re less eager to follow him through surrender. We embrace with enthusiasm Jesus’ call to love our neighbor, but that enthusiasm can wane when loving our neighbor costs us comfort and security. And when walking behind Jesus leads us down a road we would never have chosen for ourselves, it can be hard to trust where Jesus is leading. If I’m honest, more than once I have prayed: “Lord, please lead me, but please don’t lead me there.” And when we follow Jesus with these conditions, when we set the terms of our discipleship, our prayer becomes an echo of Peter’s rebuke. Before we know it, we’re no longer followers, but stumbling blocks. And when we admit that and we accept how easily we can find ourselves in Peter’s place, it changes how we hear the words Jesus speaks to him today. “Get behind me.” Not merely a rebuke. Not merely a correction. But also, a gracious invitation. “Get behind me…Follow me…Let me lead you…I know the way.”
It can be hard to stay behind Jesus. To deny ourselves. To carry our cross. To lose our lives. But we can trust this path because Jesus walked it first. He has shown us where the road leads. Three times in the Gospel, Jesus lays it out for his disciples. Three times Jesus tells them he must suffer. Three times he tells them that he must die. And three times he tells them that he will be raised. But the disciples never manage to hear that last part. They stop listening at “suffering and death.” But on this side of Easter, we have a different view. We can see the entire road. The road that does not evade suffering. The road that inevitably leads through death. The road that ends in resurrection. So perhaps today’s rebuke doesn’t belong in stained glass. But the call to follow Jesus, and get behind him, is built into the very heart of the Gospel. And no matter how often we lose our way, no matter how many times we get out in front, we will be invited to return to our rightful place as disciples. To get behind the one who leads us through suffering, through death, and always into new life.