Stepping Into Peter’s Experience

Revelation and Identity

Introduction

This article invites you to explore a concept that might seem complex at first—phenomenology. When we talk about phenomenology, especially through the insights of thinkers like Jean-Luc Marion, we’re diving into how experiences reveal themselves to us in our everyday lives. At its core, phenomenology seeks to understand lived experience—the way truth, reality, and identity become real and tangible as we encounter them. Think of it as a way to see beyond abstract ideas or doctrines to the raw, immediate impact that encounters with the divine or with others have on us.

Throughout this article, we’ll look closely at Peter’s transformative journey with Jesus as a way to approach these ideas. Through his story, I hope to make these deeper concepts of revelation and self-understanding come alive for you, illuminating how lived experiences—our moments of insight, struggle, and faith—shape who we are and how we see the world.

Table Of Contents:

·      Personal Experience and Divine Revelation
·      Revelation: Knowing Beyond Human Insight
·      Receiving Revelation: The Gift That Transforms Us
·      The Cost of Revelation: From Confession to Cruciform Discipleship
·      The Role of Divine Self-Disclosure
·      Divine Revelation as Foundation for the Church
·      Spirituality – The Journey of Knowing Christ
·      The Path of Encounter: Openness and Discipleship
·      Reflection: Our Encounters with God
·      Connecting Psychology and Spirituality: Self-Discovery and Divine Encounter
·      Transformation Beyond Self-Actualization
·      Phenomenological Insight: A Disruption in Self-Awareness
·      Living from Revelation – From Knowledge to Transformation
·      Transformation as an Ongoing Response to Revelation
·      A Journey of Calling and Commission

Personal Experience and Divine Revelation

Imagine yourself in Peter’s place, standing before Jesus as he asks, “But who do you say that I am?” It’s a question that seems simple but reaches deep, beyond anything you might understand or explain on your own. It pulls at something bigger, something that feels both humbling and profound. Peter answers, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” Jesus’ response is a powerful affirmation, saying that this understanding didn’t come from Peter’s own insight but was revealed to him by God.

This moment of revelation is rich with layers that invite us into a journey much like Peter’s—a journey of encounter, transformation, and deepening identity. Peter’s confession marks the beginning of a new understanding, one that goes beyond his own perceptions and opens up a vision of God’s truth that redefines who he is. As we explore this passage, we uncover intersections that bring theology, spirituality, psychology, and phenomenology into conversation, helping us appreciate how this moment is both timeless and deeply personal.

Through this exploration, we’ll consider six dimensions of Peter’s experience, each revealing a different aspect of what it means to encounter divine truth and be transformed by it. First, we’ll explore the theological depth of Peter’s confession as an act of revelation, a moment that places divine disclosure at the heart of faith. Then, we’ll examine the spiritual journey leading up to this encounter, showing how Peter’s life of discipleship laid the groundwork for receiving God’s truth.

As we continue, we’ll bring in psychological insights to contrast human self-actualization with the transformation that comes through divine revelation, followed by a phenomenological perspective that views Peter’s confession as a rupture in ordinary awareness. This leads us to reflect on the nature of noetic encounters—those moments of sacred “knowing” that redefine how we see ourselves and God. Finally, we’ll look at what it means to live from revelation, where knowledge becomes a lifelong journey of responding to God’s call, shaping who we are and how we participate in His purpose.

In tracing Peter’s journey, we are invited to consider our own—how we, too, might be transformed by God’s revelation and called into a life grounded in divine truth.

As RT France notes, Peter’s confession represents a “crucial breakthrough”^[1] in his understanding of Jesus’ identity. Though Peter’s grasp of Jesus’ mission—particularly the path of suffering that lies ahead—remains incomplete, he has moved beyond the popular view of Jesus as merely a prophet or even as a prophet of highest stature, “like John the Baptist”^[2]. Instead, Peter recognizes Jesus as “the one climactic figure in whom God’s purpose is finally being accomplished.”^[3] This acknowledgment goes beyond human insight, or what Jesus calls “flesh and blood,” reaching into a divine revelation of who Jesus truly is. Although Peter’s understanding will continue to evolve, this revelation forms a foundational moment, not rooted in human perception but in a truth given by God Himself.

Revelation: Knowing Beyond Human Insight

In that moment, Peter receives a truth he could not have discovered on his own. Charles Hambrick-Stowe emphasizes that Jesus uses this as a teaching moment to show that understanding Christ’s true identity is not the result of “flesh and blood”—of human reasoning or insight—but is instead a “gift of ‘my Father in heaven’”^[4]. Hambrick-Stowe cautions against reading fully developed Trinitarian doctrine into Peter’s confession, suggesting that the Synoptic Gospels do not explicitly articulate this doctrine. While this approach respects the historical context, it may underappreciate the Trinitarian insights that early church fathers, such as Irenaeus, Origen, and Gregory of Nazianzus, saw as present within these texts.

Irenaeus observed that the identity of Jesus in the Gospels reveals the relationship between the Father and the Son, laying groundwork for Trinitarian thought. In Against Heresies, he writes:

“All saw the Father in the Son: for the Father is the invisible of the Son, but the Son the visible of the Father…all spoke with Christ when He was present [upon earth], and they named Him God”^[5]. This early testimony suggests that the visible Son is an extension of the invisible Father, a concept foundational to Trinitarian understanding.

Origen similarly interpreted the Gospels as depicting the eternal relationship between the Father and the Son. In his Commentary on John, he argues that the Word was “with God” eternally and illuminates all who encounter Him. Origen explains that while the Word “came” to prophets like Hosea and Isaiah as a revelatory agent, “He did not come to God” because “the Word was always with the Father”^[6]. For Origen, this intimate relationship between the Father and the Word (Son) is timeless, pointing toward later Trinitarian thought.

Gregory of Nazianzus brings further clarity to this relational understanding in his Third Theological Oration, where he describes “Father” as a name not of essence or action but of relationship to the Son. Gregory writes, “Father is not a name either of an essence or of an action…but it is the name of the Relation in which the Father stands to the Son, and the Son to the Father”^[7]. Gregory’s insight affirms that these terms signal a shared, unified nature between Father and Son, further clarifying the relational dynamic foundational to Trinitarian theology.

While the formal articulation of the Trinity emerged later, these church fathers saw Peter’s confession as implicitly Trinitarian. Rather than imposing later doctrine on the text, this perspective suggests that the Gospels already express the essential truth of Christ’s identity in relation to the Father—a truth that would later be fully articulated in Trinitarian doctrine.

This moment, then, serves as a reminder that true knowledge of God is a revelation—a divine gift—rather than something achieved through human effort alone. Peter’s confession illustrates that our journey toward understanding God depends upon our openness to the truths God graciously discloses.

Receiving Revelation: The Gift That Transforms Us

We are going to explore the thinking of Jean-Luc Marion, a prominent French philosopher whose work has focused on the nature of experience, perception, and divine revelation. Marion, born in 1946, is recognized as one of the most influential figures in contemporary phenomenology. Originally trained in philosophy and deeply influenced by the works of Edmund Husserl and Martin Heidegger, Marion went on to develop his own unique approach to phenomenology, one that emphasizes the ways in which we experience truths that go beyond human understanding. His ideas are also shaped by his Catholic faith, and he is known for bridging philosophical inquiry with theological themes.

Marion’s work on givenness—the way experiences and truths “give themselves” to us rather than being constructed by us—has had a profound impact on the study of phenomenology. He explores how certain encounters, especially those of a spiritual nature, impose themselves on us with a sense of clarity and power that we cannot predict or control. Rather than viewing revelation as something we can analyze or manipulate, Marion encourages us to see it as something that comes as a gift, reshaping our identity and understanding in ways that we could never achieve alone.

In this following section, we’ll look at how Marion’s concept of givenness can shed light on Peter’s encounter with Jesus, specifically his revelation that Jesus is “the Christ, the Son of the living God.” This insight wasn’t a conclusion Peter reached by reasoning or observation; it was a truth that “gave itself” to him, inviting him into a relationship with God that would redefine his life. With this background in mind, we’ll see how Marion’s philosophy opens a new way of understanding divine revelation—not as something we create, but as a transformative gift that speaks directly to the heart.

Jean-Luc Marion’s idea of “givenness” offers a compelling framework for understanding Peter’s moment of revelation. Marion describes revelation as something that “imposes itself on me” and is received as a gift, “an insight that we cannot control, create, or anticipate”^[8]. According to Marion, this encounter with revelation is akin to being overcome by an artwork or piece of music that moves us deeply before we can fully understand it. In such moments, revelation “crashes over us”^[9] with clarity, offering a truth we could not reach on our own. This noetic experience is not merely informative; it is transformative, reframing our identity and understanding in light of a truth given, rather than generated, by human effort.

For Peter, this form of “givenness” comes when he declares Jesus as “the Christ, the Son of the living God.” It is not the result of “flesh and blood” or rational deduction but of a divine insight imparted directly by God (Matthew 16:17). As Marion suggests, revelation creates “the gifted”—those who are changed by the very act of receiving truth. In Peter’s case, he becomes “the rock” upon which Christ will build his Church, not by virtue of his own understanding but through the truth disclosed to him by God. Marion’s idea of the “erotic reduction” within phenomenology further describes this transformation, wherein the person becomes receptive to the “givenness” of divine revelation, allowing it to manifest in and through them as a calling and transformation of identity^[10].

Marion’s philosophy invites us to contemplate the limits of personal insight and beckons us into “the mystery of a truth given by God,” one that cannot be seized or manipulated but is instead received as a transformative encounter^[11]. In what Wallenfang calls a “consciousness (noesis) of manifestation,”^[12]the emphasis is not on what the person observing or perceiving can analyze or manipulate, but rather on what presents itself directly to them in an act of revelation.

“Vision is in fact saturated and bedazzled, blinded by the luminous flood of givenness. A continuity of recognition can be traced from Plato’s cave to Marion’s donative/erotic reduction.”^[13].

This powerful image of vision being “saturated and bedazzled” conveys the overwhelming nature of revelation as Marion envisions it. In Marion’s framework, this “luminous flood of givenness” refers to phenomena that impose themselves on our perception without our control or manipulation. The concept of givenness in phenomenology, was developed by Edmund Husserl, who explores how things reveal themselves to our consciousness as they truly are, beyond our assumptions or judgments.

Husserl describes givenness as a way of understanding how certain experiences appear directly to us, asking us to “receive for what it gives itself”^[14] rather than interpreting or altering it. To arrive at this, Husserl uses a method he calls the “phenomenological reduction.”^[15]

In this reduction, we “bracket” or set aside any preconceived notions about what we see. Imagine looking at an apple: the reduction would mean setting aside any opinions, memories, or associations about apples, and instead focusing purely on what appears in our mind—the color, shape, and presence of the apple itself. This pure observation allows the essence of the apple to “give itself” to us without our mental filters.

Husserl identifies two types of givenness:

1.     Absolute (Immanent) Givenness: This is when something appears fully and directly in consciousness. An example would be the color “red.” In absolute givenness, we aren’t just seeing red as it appears on a specific object; instead, we encounter “redness” itself as a universal quality, present in its fullness in our mind.^[16]

2.    Partial (Transcendent) Givenness: This is when our awareness is directed toward something beyond the immediate experience, like thinking about an object’s physical existence in the world. When we see red on a stop sign, we’re not just experiencing red but associating it with the sign, location, and our memories of road safety.^[17]

For Husserl, this givenness is about letting experiences show themselves without our interference or analysis. He calls this approach the “principle of all principles” in phenomenology, stating that each thing that “offers itself originarily to us in intuition (in its fleshly actuality, so to speak) must simply be received for what it gives itself”^[18].

This concept of givenness can be seen in Peter’s confession—“You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” Peter’s revelation comes not through his own deductions but as a truth revealed directly by God, who discloses the essence of Jesus’ identity in a moment of pure, absolute givenness.

According to Marion, phenomena in moments of deep revelation “give themselves”^[19] independent of human expectations or interpretive efforts, constituting the observer rather than being constituted by them. Marion notes that this is the "inversion of subjectivity"^[20]. In other words, Marion believes that in profound moments of revelation, the observer is not in control. Instead, the revelation is in control, unfolding in a way that changes the person receiving it rather than being shaped by them. Instead of a human subject assigning meaning to the phenomenon, the phenomenon gives itself and imposes its own meaning upon the observer, who becomes a witness. This shift means that the observer doesn’t actively ‘interpret’ or assign meaning to what they see. Rather, the phenomenon carries its own meaning and impresses it directly on the observer.

Marion further explains,

“the hypothesis of a saturated phenomenon does nothing more than turn against itself one of the possibilities of the common definition of the phenomenon,” describing such saturated phenomena as those that “contain a concept (of the supersensible) for which no suitable intuition can ever be given … Because it is an intuition (of the imagination) for which a concept can never be found adequate”^[21].

Here, Marion refers to what he calls a ‘saturated phenomenon,’ an experience so full of meaning that it defies our usual ways of understanding. He explains that some concepts, especially those related to spiritual or supernatural realities (‘the supersensible’), don’t fit neatly into our minds because there is no ‘suitable intuition’—no clear mental image or idea—that fully captures them. These are insights beyond ordinary imagination or explanation.

In Peter’s case, this revelation “speaks” to him not by his active grasp but through the sheer power of divine presence, allowing him to encounter a truth that reorients his understanding of Jesus and even of himself.

Marion’s concept of “saturated phenomena,” which surpass human intentionality and interpretation, finds a parallel here. Peter’s confession embodies this surrender to divine revelation, where, as with Marion’s view of the Eucharist, the encounter is emptied of subjective grasp and filled instead with an intuitive recognition of divine truth. Just as Marion describes in Being Given, Peter’s revelation reflects a givenness that overwhelms and transforms, manifesting in a way that both constitutes and redefines the witness. In this sense, Peter is not merely an observer; he is changed by the revelation itself. Marion would say that the truth Peter encounters has reshaped him, marking him as a ‘witness’ to a new reality.

Marion’s “fold of givenness” offers a way of understanding how things are “given” to us in experience without being controlled or fully grasped by us. This fold of givenness captures how experiences can arrive in our lives without us working to make them happen, as if they are ‘given’ freely, like a gift.

He explains,

“such a fold of givenness articulates a process (givenness) with a given; even if the given must by definition give a sense of its donative process and, possibly, what gives it, it can never give them as it gives itself: namely, as a given that is directly visible and present, accessible, indeed available in person”^[22].

What Marion means is that while we might sense that an experience has a deeper meaning or purpose, we can’t always see the full picture right away. This ‘fold’ keeps some of the process of givenness hidden, even while we see part of it clearly before us. It’s as if the experience arrives as a visible gift, yet its source and full meaning are not completely open to us.

In traditional phenomenology, objects or phenomena appear in a way that allows us to interpret or analyze them actively. Marion’s “fold of givenness,” however, emphasizes the gift-like nature of certain experiences, which reveal themselves without our control or manipulation. This creates what Marion calls the “paradox of givenness,” which, as Marion describes, “stems from this asymmetry of the fold,” where “the given, issued from the process of givenness, appears but leaves concealed givenness itself, which becomes enigmatic”^[23]. In this framework, phenomenology’s purpose is “not to make evident only visible phenomena, but to make visible phenomena that, without it, would remain inaccessible,” with “the nonevidence of givenness … occupying the front of the line”^[24]. This understanding shifts our perception from active control to receiving what reveals itself freely and independently.

Let’s break this down further: Marion’s fold of givenness introduces a new way of looking at experiences. Rather than seeing them as objects we can interpret or “seize” with our understanding, he suggests that some experiences come to us like gifts—beyond our ability to control or fully explain. This is what he means by the “paradox of givenness”: while something may appear clearly to us, the full depth of where it comes from and what it means may remain hidden. Marion sees phenomenology as a tool to reveal these kinds of mysteries, helping us notice experiences that are normally beyond our reach. In this way, we shift from being active analyzers to open receivers of truths that give themselves freely, revealing what would otherwise remain invisible.

When speaking of the dynamics of givenness, Marion emphasizes that the phenomenon “articulates a process (givenness) with a given,” such that it “appears but leaves concealed givenness itself”^[25],meaning that what is revealed arrives with its own intrinsic truth, independent of our interpretation. This truth appears clearly to us, even while the full depth of its source remains partially hidden. In Peter’s confession of Jesus as “the Christ, the Son of the living God,” we can see this concept at work. The revelation arises not from Peter’s own understanding but as a truth freely given to him by God, transforming how he sees Jesus and reorienting his own identity in light of this divine insight.

Moreover, this moment underscores the crucial role of Christ's mediation in the revelation of the Father. Peter does not come to "know the Father" except through what is revealed in and through Jesus. All the disciples find themselves in the same predicament, gradually understanding that their knowledge of God is intricately tied to their relationship with the Incarnate Son. Jesus is the express image of the Father, and it is only through Him that they come to know and recognize the divine character and intention of God. This realization highlights the transformative nature of divine revelation as it unfolds through Christ, bridging the gap between human understanding and the fullness of God's truth.

Jung’s insight into metaphysical assertions as “self-evident” psychological phenomena offers a unique angle on divine revelation. He states,

“Quite apart from the impossibility of ever proving or refuting the truth of a metaphysical assertion, the very existence of the assertion is a self-evident fact that needs no further proof, and when a consensus gentium allies itself thereto, then the validity of the statement is proved to just that extent”^[26].

For Jung, the phenomenon of such assertions is “incommensurable with the category of objective rightness or truth,”^[27] highlighting the way these truths resonate internally without requiring logical proof. This bears resemblance to Peter’s confession in Matthew 16:17, where Jesus tells Peter that his recognition of Jesus as “the Christ” was revealed “by my Father in heaven” rather than through human understanding.

Jung’s notion reinforces the scriptural perspective that certain truths reveal themselves as self-evident within the human psyche. In this case, Peter’s confession exemplifies an alignment with a truth that surpasses analytical understanding and resonates at a deeper, archetypal level. Jung might suggest that this revelation taps into an inner archetypal framework that, while not “provable” in a scientific sense, is deeply valid as a spiritual reality. Thus, Peter’s recognition serves as both a divine gift and a testament to the psyche’s capacity to encounter truths that redefine identity, opening him to a calling that surpasses his natural comprehension. In essence, this relational dynamic highlights that to know the Father is intrinsically linked to recognizing Jesus as the one who mediates that knowledge, thereby fostering a deeper connection to God through the transformative act of divine revelation.

The Cost of Revelation: From Confession to Cruciform Discipleship

As Peter hears Jesus affirm that the revelation of His identity comes not from “flesh and blood” but directly from the Father, he is likely enveloped in a profound mix of awe and humility. This moment marks a significant turning point in Peter's spiritual journey, as he grapples with the weight of such a divine revelation. The realization that it is the Father who has opened his eyes to this truth evokes both unworthiness and overwhelming gratitude. In that instant, Peter understands that he is part of something much greater than himself—a divine calling that transcends his previous understanding of the Messiah. This acknowledgment transforms his perception of God from a distant, abstract being to a deeply relational Creator, actively engaging with him. The revelation not only confirms Jesus' identity as the Christ and the Incarnate Son but also redefines Peter’s own identity and mission. It is a moment where divine grace, relational intimacy, and personal purpose converge, inviting Peter into a deeper communion with God that he could not have fathomed before.

However, the journey of revelation is not without its challenges. Shortly after this transformative moment, Peter experiences the weight of divine correction. When Jesus reveals His path of suffering, death, and resurrection, Peter responds with fervent resistance: “Far be it from You, Lord; this shall not happen to You!” (Matthew 16:22). In this response, Peter is caught in the tension between his newfound understanding of Jesus’ identity and his instinct to preserve what he loves. Jesus’ sharp rebuke, “Get behind Me, Satan! … for you are not mindful of the things of God, but the things of men” (Matthew 16:23), highlights the struggle Peter faces in aligning with God’s cruciform purposes. This divine correction refines Peter’s understanding, reminding him—and us—that fully grasping Christ’s identity means embracing not only His glory but also His path to the cross.

In this way, the rebuke serves as a formative moment, calling Peter and future disciples to recognize that following the Messiah means surrendering our expectations and embracing a life that mirrors Christ’s sacrificial mission. Peter’s initial revelation of Jesus as the Christ must deepen to encompass the Messiah’s cross-shaped journey, where victory is found not in avoidance of suffering but in faithful, transformative obedience.

This encounter illustrates that the path of discipleship is not merely about receiving truth; it also requires surrendering our own expectations and embracing the complexities of divine revelation. In his struggle, Peter embodies the journey of many believers: the ongoing tension between human understanding and divine revelation. His experience invites us to reflect on how we, too, might wrestle with God’s truths, especially when they challenge our perceptions of safety and victory.

The work of "the Satan," as highlighted in Peter's rebuke, is fundamentally aimed at separating believers from the transformative power of the cross-shaped life. Theologically, this separation undermines the very essence of the Christian faith, which centers on the cross as the ultimate symbol of sacrificial love and redemption. Spiritually, to stray from this path is to forfeit the depth of intimacy with God that comes through suffering, as Jesus Himself modeled. Psychologically, such separation can lead to a skewed understanding of identity and purpose, fostering an unhealthy reliance on worldly values and expectations rather than on divine calling and acceptance.

The term "Satan" is not primarily a name but rather a title that means "the accuser" or "the adversary." In this context, the definite article "the" emphasizes the specific role he plays as an oppositional force against God and humanity. By understanding Satan as a title rather than a proper name, we recognize the broader theological implications of his work as the embodiment of resistance to divine purposes. The definite article "the" in front of "Satan" signifies a specific entity, emphasizing the personal and intentional nature of this adversary.

In biblical texts, "the Satan" is often depicted as the accuser or adversary who actively opposes God’s purposes and seeks to lead believers astray. This designation highlights the singular focus of his efforts to disrupt the believer's relationship with God and to undermine the transformative power of the cross-shaped life. By understanding "the Satan" in this way, we recognize that the opposition to God's redemptive work is not just a general concept of evil but a concrete force actively engaged in spiritual warfare against all of those who pursue Christ whole-heartedly.

In the Old Testament, the term "Satan" (שָּׂטָן, śāṭān) is also used with the definite article in Hebrew. The term appears in contexts that denote an accuser or adversary rather than functioning solely as a proper name. For instance:

1.     Job 1-2: In the Book of Job, the figure commonly referred to as "Satan" is introduced with the definite article, as "the Satan" (הַשָּׂטָן, haśśāṭān), indicating a specific role as the heavenly accuser who presents himself before God.

2.    Zechariah 3:1: Here, "the Satan" stands before the angel of the Lord, opposing Joshua the high priest. The presence of the definite article underscores this adversarial role.

3.    1 Chronicles 21:1: In this context, it is noted that "Satan stood up against Israel," which again emphasizes the role of "the Satan" as an adversary acting in opposition to God's people.

In the Hebrew Canon, the use of the definite article with "Satan" indicates a title or position rather than a personal name, reinforcing the understanding of this figure as a specific agent acting in a particular capacity—namely, as the accuser or adversary in the heavenly court.

The definite article appears frequently before the term "Satan" in the original Greek texts of the New Testament, particularly in contexts where "Satan" is used to denote the accusing, adversarial role this evil entity plays, emphasizing his specific role rather than a proper name.

In many translations, the definite article is often omitted, leading to a more generic use of "Satan" as if it were a proper name, which can obscure its function as a title or descriptor of a specific adversarial role in the biblical narrative.

For example, in passages like Matthew 4:10, Mark 1:13, and Luke 4:8, you may find "the Satan" in the Greek text, but many English translations simply use "Satan." This linguistic choice can affect the theological understanding, as the definite article suggests a more defined role as the adversary or the accuser rather than merely identifying a being by name. This perspective underscores that "the Satan" represents the active force that seeks to deceive, divide, and lead us as followers of Jesus, away from the transformative path of the cross-shaped life.

In our lived experience, the temptation to avoid the cross can manifest in various ways: we may resist sacrificial love in relationships, shy away from confronting our own shortcomings, or reject the call to serve others in humility. Each of these acts pulls us away from the core of discipleship, where true transformation lies in embracing the paradox of losing our lives for Christ’s sake to find them anew. This multifaceted impact of “the Satan” serves as a poignant reminder of the necessity of aligning our lives with the cross, recognizing that it is through the embrace of suffering and self-denial that we fully participate in the redemptive work of God in our own lives and in the world around us.

The Role of Divine Self-Disclosure

RT France emphasizes that Peter’s recognition of Jesus as the Messiah is not a deduction or a response to popular opinion; it’s a divinely revealed truth. France refers to this confession as Peter’s “breakthrough” in understanding Jesus’ unique role as the fulfillment of God’s promises. This isn’t simply a case of Peter declaring what he thinks or hopes about Jesus; it’s an instance of God opening Peter’s eyes to a new reality^[28]. In theological terms, this moment reflects a type of “epiphany” or unveiling, where Peter moves from his own perceptions to a divinely-inspired knowledge of Jesus’ identity. This is God’s self-disclosure through Peter’s confession, which lays the foundation for the Church that Jesus will build on this “rock.”

Participation in Divine Nature: John Behr’s Perspective

In Peter’s confession, we also see a model for the Christian journey of knowing God—a journey that isn’t solely intellectual but involves participating in God’s life. Father John Behr captures this journey in The Mystery of Christ: Life in Death:

“We began to explore the mystery of Christ...by looking at how the disciples, as they are presented in the New Testament, came to understand the revelation of God in Christ. It was only after the Passion, in their encounter with the Risen Christ, that they finally knew him to be the Lord, as he opened the scriptures, showing that it was necessary for him to have undergone the Passion to enter into his glory, and broke bread with them (cf. Lk 24.25–32). Receiving the Spirit whom Christ had promised to send to bear witness to himself (Jn 15.26) and lead the disciples into all truth by taking what is his and declaring it to them (Jn 16.13–14), the disciples were then able to proclaim fully that ‘Jesus is Lord’ (cf. 1 Cor 12.3), that is, the one spoken of in the scriptures.”^[29]

Behr’s emphasis on this progression—from witnessing Christ’s Passion to encountering him in the Resurrection and receiving the Spirit—illustrates how revelation transforms the disciples. For Peter, his confession of Jesus as “the Christ, the Son of the living God” was a threshold moment, a first step into this transformative journey that Behr describes, where revelation opens believers to a deeper participation in God’s own life, ultimately reshaping their identity and purpose within God’s unfolding mission.

Divine Revelation as Foundation for the Church

In light of these perspectives, Peter’s confession functions as both revelation and foundation. Jesus’ response to Peter’s declaration—“upon this rock I will build my church” (Matthew 16:18)—suggests that the Church itself is built on the foundation of revealed truth, not on the shifting sands of human interpretation. As France and Behr both highlight in their works, the authority of the Church is rooted in divine revelation, not human invention. This authority invites believers to continually encounter God in a relational, transformative way, aligning their lives with the revelation given through Jesus Christ.

By understanding Peter’s confession as a theological event, we see that revelation is not merely an individual insight but the cornerstone of faith. Peter’s declaration becomes a testament to how God reveals His nature and mission, inviting believers into a faith that is both relational and transformational.

Spirituality – The Journey of Knowing Christ

Peter’s confession did not emerge in isolation; it was the result of a journey, marked by daily encounters with Jesus, that shaped his understanding and prepared him for this moment of revelation. His walk alongside Jesus—the teachings, miracles, challenges, and even misunderstandings—laid a foundation of openness and spiritual readiness that made him receptive to the Father’s self-disclosure. In this way, Peter’s journey is a powerful example of how ongoing discipleship and spiritual openness prepare us to recognize God’s voice in our lives.

The Path of Encounter: Openness and Discipleship

Peter’s life illustrates that revelation often unfolds gradually, shaped by a willingness to follow, listen, and even wrestle with doubts. As readers, we are invited to imagine the deep personal relationship Peter had with Jesus. He wasn’t merely observing Jesus from a distance; he was engaged daily in a relationship that shaped him. Moments of frustration and awe, times of confusion, and times of clarity all played a part in this journey. This kind of spiritual journey emphasizes that knowing Christ is not solely about acquiring knowledge but about a relational process that deepens over time.

Reflection: Our Encounters with God

This invites a moment of reflection for all of us. How might our own spiritual journeys be preparing us for revelations we may not yet fully understand? Peter’s story reminds us that every encounter with Jesus, even the struggles and uncertainties, becomes part of the groundwork for deeper revelation. Spiritual openness, cultivated through a life of abiding, is what allows us to respond to God’s voice with the kind of clarity Peter experienced at Caesarea Philippi.

Connecting Psychology and Spirituality: Self-Discovery and Divine Encounter

From a psychological perspective, Carl Rogers and Abraham Maslow offer insights on self-discovery and self-actualization as pathways to personal growth. Rogers, in On Becoming a Person, emphasizes the significance of personal experience as “the ultimate authority” in one’s life. His approach highlights the deeply personal journey each individual undertakes toward self-discovery, rooted in what he calls the need to “search for and become himself” and to experience one’s feelings fully, bringing the individual closer to a “real self”^[30]. For Rogers, whose own evangelical upbringing was marked by legalistic views that ultimately distanced him from faith, this “real self” is to be discovered through open, self-accepting exploration rather than traditional religious authority.

Similarly, Maslow in Motivation and Personality outlines a hierarchy of needs culminating in self-actualization. Despite distancing himself from the religious superstitions and severe punishment of his early environment, Maslow refers to self-actualization as “godlike growth-toward-self-actualization”^[31]. Though he does not use “godlike” to imply belief in God, Maslow employs the term to describe a transcendent quality within human potential—a concept that, while humanistic, hints at the deep-seated human longing for something greater, something beyond.

For Maslow, self-actualization represents an advanced stage of human development where one’s inner potentialities are fully realized. He acknowledges, however, that these drives are “overdetermined” or “multimotivated,” where an act of love, for instance, may simultaneously fulfill needs for affection, self-assurance, and personal worth, blurring simple categorizations of growth^[32]. His rejection of religion did not erase his search for language to express this higher dimension within human growth, and his atheistic use of “godlike” captures an effort to reach for something transcendent through a secular vocabulary.

However, Peter’s journey reveals a dimension of self-actualization that moves beyond even these humanistic ideals. His confession—“You are the Christ, the Son of the living God”—is met with a profound response from Jesus: “Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah, for flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father in heaven.” This response highlights a revelation that Peter did not reach through his own insight or development but rather through divine encounter. Jesus then bestows a new name upon him—“You are Peter”—marking a transformative shift in Peter’s identity that is not a product of self-actualization as Rogers or Maslow describe but an act of divine actualization. Unlike the autonomous journey Rogers and Maslow outline, Peter’s true self is affirmed by the Creator Himself, the One who fully understands and names him.

This shift in Peter’s identity reveals that authentic self-actualization—understood here as realizing one’s true-to-God self—can only be fully grasped in relation to the Imago Dei. As Peter recognizes Jesus as the Christ, he is simultaneously brought to see who he truly is. This echoes a Jungian distinction between “self” and “Self,” where the ultimate Self requires a transcendent dimension. In theological terms, Peter’s identity as “the rock” on which Christ will build His Church reflects the actualization of his Imago Dei, revealed in union with the One in whose image he was created. This divine encounter calls him beyond personal fulfillment into a transformative relationship, where genuine self-actualization emerges not from within, but as a gift from God, who alone can affirm and fulfill our true identity.

Transformation Beyond Self-Actualization

Peter’s confession exemplifies a transformation through divine revelation that transcends self-derived growth. Where humanistic psychology emphasizes autonomy and internal realization, Peter’s experience shows that true transformation requires us to encounter a reality greater than ourselves. Divine transformation, as seen in Peter’s journey, involves an openness to revelation that redefines identity not from the inside out but from above—initiated by God’s self-disclosure.

This divine encounter reoriented Peter’s entire understanding of himself, his role, and his mission, demonstrating that while self-actualization aims for personal fulfillment, divine transformation calls us into a purpose that extends beyond individual growth. It draws us into a relational journey with God that reveals a higher purpose, one that aligns us with God’s redemptive work.

Phenomenological Insight: A Disruption in Self-Awareness

From a phenomenological perspective, Peter’s confession—“You are the Christ, the Son of the living God”—can be seen as a transformative encounter that redefines his self-understanding and perception of reality. Jean-Luc Marion’s concept of givenness offers insight into how certain experiences reveal truths that exceed subjective comprehension or control. Marion explains that givenness “gives itself by itself,”^[33] manifesting independently of our perception or expectations. This form of givenness aligns with what Husserl describes as unmediated unity, where “perception and perceived form an inseparable unity... such that [perception] includes its Object in itself in such a manner that it can only be separated abstractively”^[34]. Here, experience is not filtered by subjective layers but appears as a cohesive encounter, where perception and object exist in indivisible relation.

This unmediated unity requires unpacking. Typically, human perception is mediated by layers of subjective intuition, memory, and expectation, which shape, limit, and filter our understanding. However, Marion’s idea of givenness transcends these mediating layers, appearing in fullness and requiring the perceiver to simply receive it. In Peter’s confession, Marion’s principle of givenness applies, as Peter’s understanding of Jesus’ identity doesn’t stem from “flesh and blood”—his own reasoning or intuition, or from rabbinic training—but is given directly by the Father.

This theological understanding of the causal joint aligns with the patristic notion of the nous (or intellect) as articulated by Church Fathers like Gregory of Nyssa and Maximus the Confessor. For Gregory, the nous serves as the "eye of the soul," uniquely attuned to perceive divine realities, allowing for a direct encounter with God^[35].

Maximus expands this idea by emphasizing that the nous, when purified, can function as a bridge between human perception and the divine, enabling contemplation and understanding of spiritual truths. He articulates this relationship with the divine as the necessary process of harmonizing the nous with the passible elements of human existence, leading to a deeper understanding of one's union with God^[36].

In this context, Austin Farrer introduces the term "causal joint" in Faith and Speculation, highlighting the intersection where divine revelation meets human understanding. Farrer writes,

“The manner in which God acts,

the ‘mysterious causal joint’ by which divine and creaturely activity are related, is inaccessible to knowledge”^[37].

Farrer further writes:

“Our thesis is no more than that the relation of created act to creative Act is inevitably indefinable, and that its being so is neither an obstacle to religion, nor a scandal to reason”^[38].

He emphasizes that the "mysterious causal joint" by which divine and creaturely activity are related is beyond full comprehension, stating that

“we cannot give a similarly positive reason for our ignorance of God’s physical causality; for we do not touch God with our fingers as we touch him with our ‘souls’”^[39].

This acknowledgment reflects the profound mystery of divine action, which does not negate the believer's relationship with God.

Farrer's position articulates two distinct claims: first, the nature of God's action is inaccessible to human knowledge; second, this lack of clarity does not hinder the believer's faith. He insists that the believer’s primary task is not to “manage a contact with supernatural force,” but to “set himself in the line of the divine intention”^[40]. This concept highlights that while God’s interaction with creation may be mysterious, it does not detract from the authenticity of the believer's experience and engagement with the divine.

Farrer's notion of the causal joint implies that there is a meaningful intersection where God's will interacts with human actions and decisions. He posits that

“the traditional problems of Grace and Freewill are simply expressions of the invisibility which covers the ‘causal joint’ between infinite and finite act”^[41].

This model suggests that while God is actively involved in creation, this involvement does not disrupt the continuity of creaturely laws; rather, it invites us to discern God’s influence through their everyday experiences.

If we consider this in light of Peter’s revelatory moment, the concept of the causal joint underscores how the purified nous allows him to receive a truth that transcends personal cognition. His recognition of Jesus’ identity as “the Christ” does not arise from human reasoning or intuition but is a divine revelation that reveals his role within the larger divine narrative. By bridging Farrer’s theological insights with patristic thought, we see that true understanding emerges not through individual effort alone but through divine interaction with human perception, culminating in an enriched identity aligned with God's will.

In sum, Peter’s experience exemplifies the limitations of self-actualization and the supremacy of divine actualization. His true identity is realized not through personal striving but through relationship with the Divine, where he is known and named by God. Marion’s phenomenology, combined with the patristic understanding of the nous and Farrer’s causal joint, shows that our truest self emerges not from self-perception alone but from divine encounter, where we are revealed as we are seen by the One who names us.

Peter’s recognition of Jesus as “the Christ, the Son of the living God” is not simply a cognitive realization but a moment of profound divine encounter—a noetic experience that transcends ordinary perception. In phenomenological terms, this type of encounter is marked by what theologians and philosophers describe as the “numinous”—a sacred “otherness” that imposes itself upon the human soul, leaving one with a sense of awe and deep reverence. This encounter with the numinous, as Rudolf Otto described in The Idea of the Holy, brings one face-to-face with something wholly other, evoking a response that is both humbling and transformative^[42].

Peter’s experience can be seen as a noetic encounter, a form of knowledge that surpasses rational deduction and enters the realm of deep, soul-level knowing. This is the nature of divine revelation: it is not only informational but transformational, calling the person who receives it into a new way of seeing and being. Peter’s experience invites a moment of reflection for all of us.

Have there been times when we have encountered a truth that seemed to come from beyond ourselves, a “knowing” that felt both overwhelming and undeniable? These encounters, often marked by a deep sense of clarity, humility, or awe, can reframe our understanding of God, ourselves, and our purpose in life.

In these moments, as in Peter’s encounter, we come face-to-face with the sacred “otherness” of God—a presence that invites us into a deeper understanding and calls us to live in response to this revealed truth. Just as Peter’s declaration reshaped his identity, these noetic encounters challenge us to embrace the ways God’s truth redefines our understanding and directs our path forward.

Living from Revelation – From Knowledge to Transformation

Peter’s transformation began with a single moment of revelation, but it did not end there. His journey, like ours, is one of continual growth, shaped by ongoing responses to God’s truth. The revelation that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the living God, set Peter on a path of becoming, a journey in which he would repeatedly confront, wrestle with, and ultimately grow into the identity God had given him. This process reflects the reality that true identity is not discovered through self-assertion but through responding to the One who knows us fully and calls us by name.

Transformation as an Ongoing Response to Revelation

Divine revelation invites us into a continual process of transformation. Peter’s life exemplifies this: though he had received the revelation of Christ’s identity, his understanding of what it meant to follow Jesus would deepen, mature, and sometimes be challenged. Each time Peter encountered Jesus in a new way, his identity was further refined, illustrating that revelation calls us not only to understand but to respond, again and again. As we see in Peter, transformation happens as we allow God’s truth to permeate each layer of who we are.

This call to live from revelation reminds us that understanding who Christ is leads to an understanding of who we are. When Jesus blesses Peter with the “keys of the kingdom” (Matthew 16:19), He bestows an authority that symbolizes living in alignment with God’s revealed truth. These keys are not just symbols of power but of responsibility, inviting Peter—and by extension, each of us—to walk in the power of God’s truth, “binding and loosing” in ways that are congruent with the ethics and morals of Jesus and his Kingdom.

A Journey of Calling and Commission

To live from revelation is to live in response to a divine calling that is active and ongoing. The “keys of the kingdom” remind us that we are called to participate in God’s redemptive work, empowered by the truth that has been revealed to us. Revelation, then, is not merely informational but vocational—it calls us to a life of alignment with God’s purposes, where each act of faith deepens our participation in His kingdom.

In Peter’s journey, we see that our identity and purpose unfold as we respond to God’s voice. Each revelation becomes a stepping stone, drawing us into a greater understanding of God’s heart and a fuller realization of who we are called to become in Christ. Through this ongoing journey, we are invited to live not from human certainty but from divine calling, embodying the truth of God’s revelation in our everyday lives.

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^[1] R. T. France, The Gospel of Matthew, The New International Commentary on the New Testament (Grand Rapids, MI: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publication Co., 2007), 618.

^[2] ibid. R. T. France, 618.

^[3] ibid. R. T. France, 618.

^[4] Charles E. Hambrick-Stowe, “Theological Perspective on Matthew 16:13–20,” in Feasting on the Word: Preaching the Revised Common Lectionary: Year A, ed. David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, vol. 3 (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2011), 382.

^[5] Irenaeus, Against Heresies, Book IV chapter VI. https://www.newadvent.org/fathers/0103406.htm

^[6] Origen, Commentary On John, Book II. https://www.newadvent.org/fathers/101502.htm

^[7] Gregory of Nazianzus, The Third Theological Oration On the Son, 29.16. https://www.newadvent.org/fathers/310229.htm

^[8] Donald Wallenfang and Jean-Luc Marion, Dialectical Anatomy of the Eucharist: An Étude in Phenomenology (Eugene, Oregon: Cascade Books, 2017), p. 6.

^[9] ibid. Donald Wallenfang and Jean-Luc Marion,p.6.

^[10] ibid. Donald Wallenfang and Jean-Luc Marion, p. 54.

^[11] ibid. Donald Wallenfang and Jean-Luc Marion, 54.

^[12] ibid. Donald Wallenfang and Jean-Luc Marion, p. 54.

^[13] ibid. Donald Wallenfang and Jean-Luc Marion, 199.

^[14] ibid. Donald Wallenfang and Jean-Luc Marion, p. 143.

^[15] ibid. Donald Wallenfang and Jean-Luc Marion, pp. 137-139.

^[16] ibid. Donald Wallenfang and Jean-Luc Marion, pp. 139-143.

^[17] ibid. Donald Wallenfang and Jean-Luc Marion, pp. 139-143.

^[18] ibid. Donald Wallenfang and Jean-Luc Marion, p. 143

^[19] Marion, Jean-Luc. Being Given: Toward a Phenomenology of Givenness (Cultural Memory in the Present) (p. 227). Stanford University Press. Kindle Edition. 

^[20] Marion, Jean-Luc., p. 227. 

^[21] ibid. Marion, Jean-Luc. pp. 197-198.

^[22] ibid. Marion, Jean-Luc, p. 68).

^[23] ibid. Marion, Jean-Luc, p. 68. 

^[24] ibid. Marion, Jean-Luc, p. 68. 

^[25] ibid. Marion, Jean-Luc, p. 68. 

^[26] Jung, C. G.. Collected Works of C. G. Jung, Volume 12: Psychology and Alchemy (The Collected Works of C. G. Jung) . Princeton University Press. Kindle Edition, 35.

^[27] ibid. Jung, C. G., p.35.

^[28] R.T. France, The Gospel of Matthew, NICNT, 2007, pp. 618.

^[29] Behr, John . The Mystery of Christ (p. 32). Saint Vladimir’s Seminary Press. Kindle Edition.

^[30] Rogers, Carl R.. On Becoming A Person: A Therapist's View of Psychotherapy (p. 111-112). HarperCollins. Kindle Edition.

^[31] A H Maslow. Motivation And Personality: Unlocking Your Inner Drive and Understanding Human Behavior by A. H. Maslow (Best Motivational Books for Personal Development (Design Your Life)) (p. xx). Kindle Edition.

^[32] ibid. A H Maslow, p. 50.

^[33] Marion, Jean-Luc. Being Given: Toward a Phenomenology of Givenness (Cultural Memory in the Present) (pp. 7-8). Stanford University Press. Kindle Edition.

^[34] Donald Wallenfang and Jean-Luc Marion, Dialectical Anatomy of the Eucharist: An Étude in Phenomenology (Eugene, Oregon: Cascade Books, 2017), p.12.

^[35] Laura M. Zucconi, Ancient Medicine: From Mesopotamia to Rome (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2019), 203. 

^[36] Brock Bingaman, “Becoming a Spiritual World of God: The Theological Anthropology of Maximus the Confessor,” in The Philokalia: A Classic Text of Orthodox Spirituality, ed. Brock Bingaman and Bradley Nassif (New York: Oxford University Press, 2012), 142.

^[37] Austin Farrer. Faith And Speculation: An Essay in Philosophical Theology containing the Deems Lectures for 1964, London: Adam & Charles Black, 1967.

^[38] ibid. Austin Farrer, p. 80.

^[39] ibid. Austin Farrer, p. 80.

^[40] ibid. Austin Farrer, p. 85.

^[41] ibid. Austin Farrer, p. 172.

^[42] Rudolf Otto, The Idea of the Holy, Oxford University Press, 1923

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