Who Do You Say He Is?

There are questions that define you.

Not trivia. Not small talk. Not the kind of questions that you toss around on a lazy afternoon.

I’m talking about the kind of question that pierces through your defenses.

The kind that exposes what you trust, what you fear, what you hope for.

The kind of question that won’t go away.

“Who do you say I am?”

That’s the question Jesus asked His disciples in Luke 9:20.

And it’s the question He still asks today.

The Danger of a Borrowed Faith

The conversation begins in a crowd. Rumors about Jesus are flying. Some say He’s a prophet. Others think He’s Elijah come back. A few whisper that He might be John the Baptist raised from the dead.

It’s spiritual speculation.

And Jesus interrupts it with something deeply personal:

“But what about you? Who do you say I am?”

It’s not enough to quote your pastor.

It’s not enough to echo your parents.

It’s not enough to admire Jesus from a safe distance.

Eventually, the question finds you.

Because truth isn't neutral, and Jesus doesn't allow neutrality.

He doesn't ask, "What have you heard about Me?"

He asks, "What do you believe about Me?"

And your answer—honest or avoided—shapes everything else.

The Right Answer, the Wrong Expectation

Peter gets it right.

“You are the Christ of God.”

That’s a massive moment. It's a line in the sand. Peter confesses that Jesus isn’t just a good teacher or miracle worker. He’s the promised Messiah.

But Peter doesn’t yet grasp what that means.

Like many in his day, Peter expected a triumphant king—someone who would overthrow Rome, restore Israel’s glory, and bring immediate relief. He was ready for revolution, not crucifixion.

So Jesus does something strange.

He tells them not to tell anyone.

And then He starts talking about suffering, rejection, death—and resurrection.

Wait… what?

That’s not the Messiah they were expecting.

And it’s not the one we always want either.

“We want a Messiah who fixes our problems, not one who dies for our sins.” “We want someone who saves us from pain, not someone who invites us to suffer.” “We want the crown—but not the cross.”

But Jesus says: You can’t have one without the other.

The Messiah Who Suffers

Luke 9:22 makes it unmistakable:

“The Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests and the teachers of the law, and he must be killed and on the third day be raised to life.”

Jesus is the suffering Savior.

The Lamb of God.

The crucified King.

He doesn’t come to impress the crowds.

He comes to rescue the lost.

And that rescue doesn’t come through domination. It comes through death.

He takes our place.

Bears our guilt.

Endures the wrath we deserved.

So when you say, “Jesus is the Christ,” you’re not just affirming a title.

You’re embracing a cross.

Salvation Is Free—But Following Is Costly

After Jesus reveals what it means to be the Christ, He turns to His followers and reveals what it means to follow Him.

“Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me.” (Luke 9:23)

This isn’t Jesus raising the bar on salvation.

It’s Him painting a picture of discipleship.

Salvation is a gift—received by grace, through faith (Ephesians 2:8–9).

You don’t earn it.

You can’t deserve it.

But once you receive it—once you call Jesus Savior—you’re also called to follow Him as Lord.

And following Him will stretch you.

“Salvation is free, but following Jesus will cost you: Your pride. Your preferences. Your plans. Your need to be right.”

Discipleship isn’t an accessory to your faith—it’s the path of your faith.

And it's a daily choice.

Not a one-time decision at a youth camp.

Not a checkbox on a membership form.

But a lived-out, cross-carrying response to the One who carried your cross first.

Why Some Stay Stuck

Let’s be honest.

Some of us have trusted Christ…

But we’re still stuck.

Saved, but stagnant.

Rescued, but resistant.

Forgiven, but frozen.

We want Jesus to be our Savior…But not our King.

We love His grace, but bristle at His authority.

We celebrate His love, but hesitate to obey.

We want the benefits of heaven without the cost of surrender.

That’s why Jesus’ question keeps echoing:

“Who do you say I am?”

Not just once.

Not just when you walked an aisle or signed a card.

But in the daily grind:

• When life gets hard.

• When obedience gets costly.

• When forgiveness feels impossible.

• When surrender feels unsafe.

Jesus isn’t just asking for your answer on Sunday.

He’s asking for it in real time.

“Who do you say I am… when your plans fall apart?” “Who do you say I am… when you feel forgotten?” “Who do you say I am… when following Me costs you everything?”

From Resolution to Redefinition

This time of year, we love to talk about transformation.

New Year. New You.

Eat better.

Spend less.

Get organized.

Try harder.

But underneath it all is a bigger question:

“Will this year be shaped by comfort—or by confession?”

The path to real change isn’t found in proving your worth.

It’s found in remembering His.

"You don’t need to prove you’re worthy. You need to remember that you already are—by grace, through faith."

That’s where transformation starts.

Not in your effort, but in your answer.

Not in your strategy, but in your surrender.

Not in what you do—but in who you say He is.

So… Who Do You Say He Is?

At some point, every one of us will have to answer that question.

You can’t stay hidden in the crowd forever.

Not behind your church attendance.

Not behind your good intentions.

Not behind your spiritual curiosity.

Because this isn’t a question you can delegate.

It’s not a question you can ignore.

“Who do you say I am?”

It’s the question of your life.

And once you answer it—honestly, clearly, personally—

Everything else starts to fall into place.