S2 Ep. 8-Who Are You Becoming On The Road

The road you’re on is doing more than carrying you forward, it’s changing you. Lent begins with walking, but it keeps going until it reaches something most of us both want and resist: transformation. I’m Steve Pizzato, and I’m inviting you to slow down and notice what the journey is forming in you as we move closer to Holy Week. 

We spend time with two vivid gospel moments that belong together. In Mark 8, Jesus asks a question that won’t let us hide behind other people’s opinions: “Who do you say that I am?” Peter answers with the right words, yet the story hints at a deeper truth many of us recognize in our own faith: you can name something accurately and still not understand it. That gap between confession and comprehension becomes a holy place where God can teach, refine, and reshape us. 

Then we climb the mountain in Luke 9 for the Transfiguration, where Jesus is revealed in radiant glory and the voice from the cloud says, “Listen to him.” Clear sight is not always comfortable; it can be disorienting because it changes what we think is possible. Along the way, I draw on Tolkien’s imagery of the long road, Aragorn’s slow unveiling, and Gandalf’s transformation to explore Christian discipleship, spiritual formation, and the quiet work of becoming who we truly are in God. 

If you’re longing for certainty but living in the in-between, this reflection offers language, Scripture, and practical questions to carry with you. Subscribe, share this with a friend walking their own road, and leave a review with the question you’re holding right now.

Let's Get Into It!!

Transcript

Who Do You Say I Am

Tolkien And Becoming Your True Self

The Mountain Where Jesus Shines

Questions To Carry On The Road

Prayer And Palm Sunday Invitation

Speaker 0:08

Welcome back, friends, to Ancient Truth for the Modern Heart. I'm Steve Pozzato, and as always, I am so glad that you are here to spend this time with me. Well, we've been walking through Lent together, through wilderness, through questions in the night, through thirst at the well, and along the quiet assurance of Psalm 23. But today, the journey deepens. Because if Lent begins with walking, it eventually leads us to something else. Change. And not just change in where we're going, but who we are becoming. And we spoke about this last week, but J.R.R. Tolkien wrote that the road goes ever on and on, down from the door where it began. And if you have walked a long road, you know this. The road does not just take you somewhere, it has a tendency to change you along the way. So today we listen to two moments in the life of Jesus. One where he asks a question, and one where he is seen differently. So let's listen. Our first scripture reading comes from Mark chapter 8, verses 27 through 30, and we'll continue with Luke chapter 9, verses 28 through 36. Let's start with Mark. Jesus and his disciples went on to the villages around Caesarea Philippi. On the way he asked them, Who do people say I am? And they replied, Some say John the Baptist, others say Elijah, and still others one of the prophets. But what about you? he asked. Peter answered, You are the Messiah. And Jesus warned them not to tell anyone about him. Moving on to our passage from Luke, about eight days after Jesus said this, he took Peter, John, and James with him and went up onto a mountain to pray. As he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became as bright as a flash of lightning. Two men, Moses and Elijah, appeared in glorious splendor talking with Jesus. They spoke about his departure, which he was about to bring to fulfillment at Jerusalem. Peter and his companions were very sleepy, but when they became fully awake, they saw his glory and the two men standing with him. As the men were leaving, Jesus Peter said to him, Master, it is good for us to be here. Let us put up three shelters, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah. He did not know what he was saying. While he was speaking, a cloud appeared and covered them, and they were afraid as they entered the cloud. A voice came from the cloud saying, This is my son, whom I have chosen. Listen to him. When the voice had spoken, they found that Jesus was alone. The disciples kept this to themselves and did not tell anyone at that time what they had seen. There's a question at the center of the Mark story, a simple one, but not an easy one. Who do you say that I am? And the disciples answer, They have also heard rumors, and they have seen enough to form an opinion. And Peter says, You are the Messiah. And he is right, but not yet fully. Because in just a few verses, Peter will misunderstand what that means, which tells us something important. That you can name something and still not understand it. We do this all the time. We say words like faith, love, grace, Jesus. And sometimes we think we know what we mean, but the journey of faith is often about discovering that those words are deeper than we first imagined, than what we have named. Well, we're still learning to see those things. And between that question and the mountain, there is a road, a quiet stretch of time, walking, listening, trying to understand. And this is where we live most of our lives, between what we think we know and what we are just beginning to see. Lent is that kind of season. It's not a season of instant clarity, but a season of walking, of letting the road do its work on us, because the road does not just lead us somewhere, it has a tendency to change us. In Tolkien's Lord of the Rings, there is a character named Aragorn. He is by birth a king, but for much of the story, he lives as something else. A ranger, a wanderer, a strider. Someone knows who he is, but has not fully stepped into it. And even Aragorn knows who he is. And this someone who knows who he is does not proclaim it right away. And Aragorn carries this identity, but not yet the fullness of it. And as the story unfolds, something begins to shift. Not all at once, not in a single moment, but over time, through decisions, through courage, through the long road. He does not become someone different. He becomes who he has always been. And maybe that is a part of the journey of faith. It's not about becoming someone else, but becoming who we truly are in God. And then comes the mountain. Jesus takes Simon Peter, James, and John, and something changes. Not in who Jesus is, but in how he is seen. His face shines, his clothes become radiant, and for a moment the disciples see very clearly. And a voice speaks, This is my son. Listen to him. And suddenly what was named before is revealed more fully. The disciples are overwhelmed because sometimes seeing clearly is not comforting, it is disorienting, and it changes everything. And there's another moment in Tolkien's story where Gandalf falls into darkness, and for a time it seems he is gone. And then later he returns. But he is changed. Not just restored, but transformed. Gandalf the Gray becomes Gandalf the White. And when his friends see him, they do not recognize him at first because he is both the same and somehow more. Revealed in a new way. And that is precisely what the disciples experience on the mountain, that Jesus is the same, and yet suddenly they see him differently, more clearly, more fully, more. And here is where these stories meet us. Because most of life is lived between those moments, between naming and seeing, between the road and the mountain, between who we think we are and who we are becoming. And that space can feel uncertain. It can feel like wandering or like not having everything figured out. But maybe that is exactly where transformation happens, not in the moment we say the right words, and not even in the moment of full clarity, but in the walking, in the listening, and in the staying on the road. So here is the question that we carry with us. Who do you say that I am? And just as gently, who are you becoming? Where in your life have you named something but not yet fully seen it? Where might God be inviting you to see more clearly? And where might that new clarity begin to change you? Because the journey of faith is not about having all the answers, it is about staying open, staying present, staying on the road long enough for your eyes and for your life to be changed. And so Tolkien's road keeps going ever on and on. And sometimes we wish it didn't. We wish the journey were shorter, clearer, easier. But the deeper truth is this: the road is not just taking the characters in the Lord of the Rings somewhere. And the road is not just taking us somewhere. It is forming us, shaping us, revealing who we are. And my friends, the good news is this: we are not walking it alone. Christ walks with us. Christ is revealed among us and before us, and Christ continues to call us forward into the fullness of who we are becoming. So when we think, who do I say I am? Who do you say I am? All of those answers can change. They may change today or tomorrow. Because we don't know where the road takes us, but only that the shepherd is leading us, that this is the space to ask the questions, that the valley is not the destination, and that this road, my friends, goes ever, ever on. Let us pray together. God of the journey, you meet us on the road in our questions, in our uncertainty, and in our beginnings. You meet us in our becoming and in our formation and in every step we take, glad or weary. Open our eyes to see more clearly and give us courage to walk the path before us. Shape us, Lord, step by step into the people you are calling us to be. Remind us that we are not alone and that even now you are at work within us. Amen. My friends, next Sunday is Palm Sunday, and I will be very glad if you join me. Because as we begin Holy Week, it is a time to be together. To be on this road walking together. And so I hope to see you then, my friends, and thank you again for joining me today. Go with joy in your steps on this road. Speak with hope on your lips and carry the flame of love within you everywhere you go. Because, my friends, no matter where you carry love, there shall you go in peace. Until next time, my friends, farewell.