“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. Then he began to
teach them that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by
the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three
days rise again. He said all this quite openly. And Peter took him aside and
began to rebuke him. But turning and looking at his disciples, he rebuked Peter
and said, “Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine
things but on human things.””
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Mark 8:27-33
Some
of the most beloved characters in children’s literature are a family of bears
(Mama, Papa, Brother, Sister, and Honey) who live in a treehouse in Bear
Country, learning life lessons from one another. You likely know this fictional
family well, especially if you’re a parent or grandparent. So here’s the
question: are they called the Bearenstein
Bears (with an ‘e’) or the Bearenstain
Bears (with an ‘a’)?
When
I stumbled upon that question, I knew the answer without even thinking. I could
see it plain as day in my mind’s eye. “With an ‘e’,” I said. Wrong. Feel free
to double check, but you’ll find the same thing I did, that the Bearenstain Bears were written and
illustrated for over 40 years by Stan and Jan Bearenstain. That ‘e’ I remembered so vividly in the name just isn’t
there.
That’s
just one example of something called the “Mandela Effect,” a phenomenon in
which a false memory is held among a large group of people (it’s named after
another false memory that emerged upon the death of Nelson Mandela in 2010.
Hundreds of people were surprised by the news, having incorrectly remembered
him dying in prison in the 1980s.) What is most striking to me about the
Mandela Effect is not the fallibility of our memories, or even the way such
false memories are somehow commonly held—what I find amazing is how certain we
can be about something that isn’t true. Had you asked me to bet $50 on how
“Bearenstain” was spelled, I probably would have taken you up on it; I was that
sure I was right. After all, it was something I knew with absolute
certainty—but as it turns out, my certainty was no match for the unexpected
truth.
In
the above passage, Simon Peter learned that lesson all too well. When he said
he believed Jesus was the Messiah, he was showing tremendous faith, but only
moments later he proved that his faith was limited by misunderstanding. He had
a fixed view of how the Messiah ought to behave—primarily as a political
revolutionary—and upon hearing Jesus correct that understanding with
predictions of betrayal and suffering and death, the security of his certainty
was pierced. His faith was not ready to withstand the unexpected.
As
Holy Week approaches, we welcome the familiar beats of the story: the hosannas
of Palm Sunday, the bread and wine of Maundy Thursday, the long walk to Calvary
on Friday, and, of course, the joy of Easter Sunday’s empty tomb. But because
of that familiarity, we risk repeating Peter’s mistake: we risk thinking we
have God all figured out. In truth, Holy Week was full of surprises. God’s plan
for salvation was one nobody but Jesus saw coming. The cheering masses waving
palm branches didn’t expect Jesus’s revolution to be spiritual instead of
political, the disciples didn’t expect one of their own to betray their Lord,
and no one expected Jesus’s story to continue past Friday morning. But again
and again throughout that holiest of weeks, God subverted expectations: leading
by serving, overpowering by submitting, saving by dying.
So
as the church prepares to move into Holy Week, let me encourage you to approach
each day, each story, and each moment of worship with humility, ready for God
to teach you something new. Whether it’s the first time or the thousandth time
you’ve heard these stories, God can use them to bring you closer to Him, if
only you will come with an open heart and ears to hear. Approaching Holy Week
with a spirit of certainty about God, sure that you know exactly who He is and
what His plans are for you, offers the security of predictability. But perhaps
an attitude of faith—believing even when you’re not certain—is a more suitable tribute to the risen Lord.