Who do you really say I am - a poem (probably for all age or a youth group)

“But what about you?”

“Who do you say I am?”

Well, that’s a very good question,

The kind I expect from you

It’s the sort of question that makes me feel uncomfortable

And puts me ill at ease

Because I think I know the answer

In fact I think I think I know several answers

There are answers from the Good Book

And there are answers from my prayers

There are words and phrases handed down from medieval sages

And friends on the phone

There are images on the gallery wall

And stained glass to help me with the answers

There are thousands and millions of songs

Hymns and chants that tell me different names

And different answers to the question,

“Who do you say I am?”

I could give any of those answers

Any phrase or any “I am” saying

I could give a thousand answers

And probably find a thousand more

But there are two troubling elements to your question

The first is that you didn’t ask me who the Bible says you are

And you didn’t ask me who the painter says you are

And you didn’t ask me for the opinion of the poet

The playwright

Or the priest

You didn’t ask me for the answer of my mother-in-law

Or the evangelist on the telly

You didn’t ask me what any of those people or artefacts had to say

You asked me

You asked me what I had to say

“Who do you say I am?”

And that’s a bit more personal, because that’s about my opinion

And my belief

And the way that I think about you

And feel about you

And dream about you

Well that’s a bit more awkward

But as noted before, there’s a second troubling element to the question

And it’s even more troubling than the first

Because from the question you ask

And as the person that you are

I get the feeling that you want to hear something more

I get the feeling that the way I see you

And the way I describe you

Should somehow make an impact

Not just on my view of you

That’s obvious

But that it should make an impact on how I see the world

And how I see its other inhabitants

That maybe how I see you

Should impact how I interact with the world

And how I respond to the world

I have a gut feeling that your question

“Who do you say I am?”

Will, if I allow it, take me on a journey

A journey to somewhere deep

And challenging

The kind of place where suddenly it’s hard to deny

That my reaction to the news needs to change

That I need to step beyond where I feel at home and take a bigger risk

That I need to hold up my hands open palmed, ready to receive

I’m frightened by your question because it challenges me

It challenges every part of me

It challenges everything I do and see

It challenges everything I believe

“Who do you say I am?”

You ask, not quite innocently but wanting me to think

And I have thought

And I have fought within myself to say aloud the things that I believe

And I have fought within myself to lay down the ways that lead to death

The ways that lead to nowhere good

The ways that lead to me being lost

Instead I’m unsettled, unfettered and regretting

Regretful and remorseful

For the failures in my past

And for my future failings just around the corner

“Who do you say I am?”

And “who do I say you are?”

You’re Jesus

And at the moment

With all the implications

And the challenges that this will lead me to face

You’re Jesus

And that’s just about all I can say