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. (Mark 8: 27-30)

Many scholars have suggested this brief exchange - also referenced in Matthew and Luke - is a post-hoc addition to the scripture by early Christians. They argue that Jesus almost never talked about himself.

But if our orthodoxy of Jesus being fully man and fully divine has any meaning, I can certainly imagine the man asking these questions. Who am I? Who do others say I am? Who do you say I am?

When I encounter the divine it is all at once profoundly intimate and deeply other. The divine emerges from within me but is entirely separate from me. I am left - for a moment - uncertain of my identity.

Jesus sought and taught wholeness, fullness, peace, shalom. We can find in the gospels an unfolding of his own experience of what this means. His humanity and divinity are in constant conversation.

To be Christ is to be consecrated. To be Messiah is to be anointed. In the most ancient rituals holy oil - or chrism - is applied to every organ of human sensation, to the forehead, and to the breast. Every tool of human discernment is made more supple to better receive the divine.