It truly is a miracle that Peter sees who Jesus is more clearly than the rest, that is, the others who have heard of Jesus. Rumor tends to feed the most extravagant conclusions, and when one is known only by reputation, he can often seem larger than life. What is larger than the Christ, the long-awaited one, the one who will come to deliver Israel? It’s a wonder that those others spinning stories about Jesus’ identity did not latch onto this option. They gravitated instead to less grand, if nevertheless still legendary, theories about the Lord.
The miracle of Peter’s confession lies in his daily experience of Jesus. It’s one thing to call a man the Christ if all you have heard of him is his miracles. It’s another thing to do so when you see him every day, conversing with him, eating with him, watching him separate himself to pray. Whereas familiarity often breeds discontent, even resentment, in this case it has bred devotion and true faith.
What’s the call here? God becoming man in Jesus Christ sanctifies the ordinary, the cyclical day-in-day-out rat race that Qoheleth calls vanity. Something new—perhaps for the first time—is now here, and our daily interactions no longer must surrender to the monotony of the times and seasons. On the contrary, my daily life is an entry into divinity and, if I have eyes to see it, those daily moments can launch me into a firm and complete confession of faith in the Lord that may have yet eluded the rest: “You are the Christ of God,” the one who makes all my days holy.