We travel today with Jesus as he was leaving Caesarea Philippi, in the far northern region of ancient Israel. Named for the Roman Caesar, located in what is now known as the Golan Heights, a site of contention to this day, Syrian land occupied by Israeli allure. Even after these years together, the disciples still imagine Jesus supplanting the great Caesar, scattering Rome’s legions, restoring the glory of Judea’s lost splendor, fulfilling its remembered boast as the capital of nations.
And now this! What is this gibberish about “the Son of Man must suffer,” rejected, kicked to the curb, tracked and targeted by the drones of imperial purpose and religious conceit.
“No!” screams Peter, mouth in gear before his brain engaged.
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