That question has become personal 

Peter knew who Jesus was, and Jesus knew who Peter could become.

Last Sunday’s Gospel asked a question, and I have been thinking about it ever since.

Jesus first asks His disciples what other people are saying about Him. They give several answers. John the Baptist. Elijah. Jeremiah. One of the prophets. Then Jesus makes the question personal. “But who do you say that I am?” (Matthew 16:15)

Peter answers, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” (Matthew 16:16) That is the right answer. It is my answer too. I have no doubt that Jesus is the Son of God. But then I started thinking about His question as if He had asked me instead of Peter.

Who do I say He is?

We have so many names for Jesus. We hear them in Scripture, at Mass, and in the litanies of the Church. Lamb of God. Good Shepherd. Bread of Life. Divine Physician. King of Kings. Redeemer. Sacred Heart. Every one of those names tells us something true about Him.

But if Jesus were sitting across from me and asked that question directly, without giving me time to search for the perfect answer, I think I know what I would say.

You are my Savior. Thank You.

I do not mean that as just another title. I call Him my Savior because He saved me. There was a time when I believed the worst parts of my life told the whole story. I knew the things I had done and where I had failed. I carried guilt and shame for so long that I began to believe they said something permanent about me. I thought I was lost, worthless, and maybe too far gone for anything to change.

That was when I began to understand what mercy really meant. Jesus did not tell me that my sins did not matter. The Cross tells me they mattered very much. He gave Himself for sinners, and He gave Himself for me. What He showed me was that my sins did not get to have the final word. His love did. His forgiveness did.

Nothing I brought to Him changed who He was. He was still Jesus. Still merciful. Still loving. Still willing to forgive me and call me back. I had spent so much time looking at myself through the things I had done that I had forgotten to look at myself through the eyes of the One who already knew all of it and loved me anyway. That is why I call Him my Savior.

I used to think being saved mostly meant being rescued from sin and someday getting to Heaven. I still believe that, of course, but now the word feels much closer to me. Jesus saved me from believing that my worst moments were all I would ever be. He saved me from believing that shame had a stronger claim on me than His mercy.

He did more than clear the books and send me on my way. He gave me another way to understand who I was. I was not simply the man who had failed. I was a man loved by God, forgiven by Christ, and invited to live differently because of that love.

And that is where Jesus’ question began turning back toward me in another way. If I say Jesus is my Savior, that says something about me too.

It means I was worth saving.

For a man who once believed he was worthless, that matters. Not because I somehow earned that worth or finally became good enough for Jesus to notice me. My worth begins with the fact that God loves me. Jesus showed me just how far that love was willing to go.

I am not valuable because of what I do for the Church, what I write, how much I serve, or how many prayers I say. Those things may be ways I respond to His love, but they are not the reason for it. He loved me before any of those things. He loved me when I was convinced there was not much in me worth loving.

That is what I think about now when I hear Jesus ask, “But who do you say that I am?” The Church gives me the truth about who He is. Peter gives me the answer that stands at the center of our faith. “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” I believe those words with my whole heart.

But somewhere inside that truth is also a relationship. There is everything Jesus has done in my own life. There is mercy I did not deserve, forgiveness I thought I could never receive, and love that reached me when I had convinced myself I was beyond it.

So maybe His question is worth sitting with for a while.

Who do you say that He is?

Do not only think about what you have learned about Jesus or which title you would choose from Scripture or a litany. Think about who He has been in your life and what name comes naturally when you remember what He has done for you.

I know my answer.

Peter said, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.”

And when Jesus asks me personally, I think I would look at Him and say something even simpler.

Jesus, You are my Savior.