What Rock? What Keys?

For two-and-a-half years our Lord had lived among His apostles. Making Himself of no reputation, He had given them no certain clue to His dignity. Yet “He could not be hid.” To quote the words of His evangelist and friend, who more than any other penetrated beneath the Lord’s grace and truth to their hidden fountain: “The life was manifested, and we have seen it.”

Only six months of education remained before He was taken from them–a period during which His teaching would become much more intensive; and as a preliminary it was necessary to ascertain what conclusions they had arrived at, as the result of their observations and experiences.

In order to secure the necessary privacy for this all-important inquiry, our Lord journeyed to the extreme edge of the northern frontier of Palestine, where Mount Hermon, the chief Alp of the Lebanon range, lifts its mighty mass beyond the snow-line, screening off the northern blasts, and cooling the air, so that the dews of Hermon descended on the mountains of Zion.

The Master’s Searching Question

“Whom do men say that I the Son of man am?” The answers were various. It was universally acknowledged that He was no ordinary man. People felt that a Divine fire was burning beneath the pure porcelain of His nature. But their views were as various as the speakers. Some, with Herod at their head, expressed the belief–not without a shudder–that the Baptist had risen from his lonely grave beside the Castle of Machaerus. Others said that Elijah, whom Malachi had taught them to expect, had come to them in the “day of the Lord.” Others traced a resemblance between Jesus and one of the old prophets.

Probably our Lord was not especially disappointed or surprised by these replies. It was of small importance that conclusions had been arrived at in the Court of Public Opinion. He knew what was in man; and these inquiries were only intended to lead up to the second and all-important question: “But whom say ye that I am?”

Speaking after the manner of men, His heart must have stood still for the reply. And it came instantly, emphatically, and decisively from the lips of Peter, always the spokesman for the rest: “Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God.” The brusque fisherman had been taught the secret of the mystery “which in other ages had not been made known” to the sons of men, as it was now to be revealed to the holy apostles and prophets by the Spirit. “Blessed art thou, Simon Bar-Jona (son of Jonas or John), for flesh and blood hath not revealed it unto thee, but My Father which is in heaven.”

The Foundation of the Church

Then for the first time our Lord spoke of His Church. Notice the strong possessive pronoun My. As yet the Church–one, undivided, and hidden–existed only in the councils of eternity. The future tense, “I will build,” makes it clear that as Eve was builded out of Adam while he slept, so the Church was soon to be built from the death-wound and the sepulcher entombment of Emmanuel. And it was destined to be His bride, His body. His fulfillment, through which He could manifest the complete glory of His nature. My Church! From eternity Christ loved her. By His blood He redeemed her.

The Church is the special object of hatred to the dark underworld of fallen spirits, whom our Lord refers to as “the gates of Hades.” Hades is the nether unseen world, the abode of the wicked spirits that rule the darkness of this world, under the leadership of “the Prince of the power of the air,” who rules in the hearts of the disobedient.

Long and sore the conflict may be, but the issue is not doubtful. “They shall not prevail.” “The Lamb shall overcome, for He is Lord of lords, and King of kings, and they that are with Him are called, and chosen, and faithful.”

The secret of the Church’s prevalence over her foes consists in her foundational fact. Not the personality of an impulsive and fallible man, who within a few moments was to incur the sharpest rebuke ever administered by those gentle lips; but the Deity of our Lord, as “the Son of the ever-living God.”

The Greek phrasing of our Lord’s reply leaves no doubt as to His meaning. Two Greek words are here. Petros, Simon’s new name, signifies in Greek, as Cephas did in Syriac, a stone, or bit of rock, broken or hewn from its parent bed. Petra indicates the Rock-bed itself. Our Lord carefully makes the distinction.

If He had intended Peter to be the foundation of the Church, He would naturally have shaped His sentence thus: “Thou art Peter, and on thee I will build My Church.” But, carefully selecting His words, in essence He said: “Thou art Peter [a stone, a fragment of rock], who under the power of God’s Spirit has spoken with strength and certainty; but I cannot build on thee. For the foundation of My Church I must turn from Petros to Petra, from a fragment to the great truth, which for the moment has inspired thee. The truth of My eternal relationship to the Father is the only foundation against which the waves of demon and human hatred will break in vain. No stone shall give. No such bastion shall ever tremble.”

The Gift of the Keys

It must be carefully noted that our Lord used the same words which He addressed to Peter also to individual believers in Matthew 18:18, and again to His assembled apostles and others who were gathered with them in the Upper Room on the evening of the Resurrection Day. (See  Jn. 20:22-23).

In the light afforded by these references, we may extend the significance of this gift of the keys to include all who live and act in the power of the Holy Spirit. If we have received that blessed gift of the Comforter, as they did on whom the Master breathed that Easter evening, we also may wield the power of the keys.

This is the secret of the quest of the blessed life. Go through the world opening prison doors, lifting heavy burdens, giving light and joy and peace to the oppressed, proclaiming the Lord’s Jubilee year. Shut doors opening out on the dark waters of despair. Unlock and open those that face towards the sunrise. For this is work that angels might envy. “Receive ye the Holy Ghost.”

Uplook Magazine, October 1997
Written by F. B. Meyer
Donate