Mirror, mirror on the wall
Sermon by Pr. Craig Mueller on the Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost + Sunday, August 23, 2026
Mirror, mirror on the wall. Who’s the fairest of them all?
Actually, in the 1937 Disney film Snow White, the evil queen says “magic mirror on the wall, who’s the fairest one of all.” But what we have in our heads is closer to the German in the Brother Grimms fairy tale: “Spieglein, spieglein an der Wand.”
Many of us have a complicated relationship with mirrors. We may not like what we see. Maybe we notice how much we have aged. Or we wish something about our face or body was different. We wonder how other people see us. Of course, like Narcissus we can become obsessed with our own image. We may have a constant need to be affirmed and praised by others. Either way, we can relate to a phrase in today’s gospel: Who do people say that I am?
Of course, the gospel is about Jesus and his identity. Jesus and the disciples are at Caesarea Phillipi, a place of revelation and commissioning. Jesus is curious about what people are saying about him. What’s the current buzz, he asks. The disciples are quick to answer: some say John the Baptist, Elijah, Jeremiah, one of the prophets.
Then the rubber hits the road. But who do you say that I am, Jesus asks. Peter is the one who speaks up. Yes, Jesus is their rabbi and traveling companion. Yet in this moment Peter sees beyond the surface of things. He sees the reflection of divinity in Jesus. You are the Messiah, the Christ, the Son of the living God. A shimmering moment of recognition, indeed. And Jesus responds: Peter, you are rock. And on this rock I build my church.
Mirror, mirror on the wall. On one level, looking into a mirror can seem shallow. Yet mirrors can also reveal who we are on a deeper level. They can represent a person’s depth of soul and mind.
While looking in the mirror, Saint Paul exhorts us to not think too highly of ourselves. To not be conformed to this world, but to be transformed. To use our gifts for the common good. To offer our bodies—our whole selves—as spiritual worship. To be mirrors of divine grace.
Sounds pretty good so far. What you’d expect to hear in a sermon. Yet how does it hold up against the cultural realities of our time? I was captivated by an essay several weeks ago called “The Spiritual Trap of Our Own Image.” The author writes about the prevalence of mirrors today. But not the ones I’ve talked about so far. Rather, the image we see of ourselves on phones, front-facing videos, selfies, Zoom calls, FaceTime, Ring doorbells.
Screen, screen in my hand. Who’s the coolest in the land?
Now there are ways to hide yourself in video calls, to be sure. But the default setting is that as you are looking at someone else, you are watching yourself, your reflection. You watch yourself talk and laugh. You monitor your reflection, correct your posture, adjust your hair.
There’s something eerie about being both the speaker and the watcher, the author writes. “When we take on the roles of actor, audience and critic all at once, it’s going to cause some physic strain.” Who do people say that I am? Who do people see that I am? For most of human history we were not gazing into our own eyes and watching ourselves on recorded loops. The author’s main point is that staring at our faces on screens nonstop is messing with our heads.
This article wasn’t in a theological or spiritual journal, but in the New York Times.¹ But her point of view is sermon worthy. There is a spiritual trap in being obsessed with our own image. All three Abrahamic religions warn against such pride. These screen mirrors offer a poor, partial way of seeing. They don’t reveal God, truth, or ourselves as we are. Rather the author portends that it is through face-to-face encounters, reflection, and inner transformation that we come to know truth.
Hear again Paul’s words: be transformed by the renewal of your minds. The Greek word here for mind, nous, connects to a word not in my vocabulary: noetic. Relating to the mind and thinking. For Martin Luther it wasn’t pride or lust or anger that plagued him. It was sin’s noetic effect. The way it twists our reasoning and blurs our vision and the way we see ourselves, one another and God. As one writer puts it, “sin lulls us into thinking that whatever is wrong with us, we can manage on our own.”²
And to take our mini-Greek lesson further, nous, the Greek word for mind doesn’t suggest a mental versus physical sense. In this passage mind is not just in our heads. It is about perception. Insight. Intuition. Today we might say emotional intelligence. The attention we give things. The attention we give people.
What a wonderful invitation. Be transformed by the renewal of your mind. The way you see things.
The ancient Israelites looked to their ancestors as the rock that bore them. Peter looked upon Jesus with new eyes when he declared him to be the Christ. And Jesus affirmed that this confession is the foundation of the church. This is the solid rock of faith.
Holy Trinity’s mission is about transformation. It is countercultural to gather in worship. We are reminded Sunday after Sunday that God looks upon us and all people with divine grace. What is also countercultural is that we seek not to mirror the ways of the world—its greed, injustice, empty promises, obsession with the self. Rather as the body of Christ, we are sent to mirror divine self-giving love. Sent to mirror the good, the true, the beautiful. Sent to be transformative agents of justice and healing in the world as our purpose statement declares.
Mirror, mirror on the wall. Who’s the one beloved of all? Take another transforming look. See yourself as child of God. See the reflection of God’s image in others. See our beautiful world with new eyes as you walk out these doors. Amen.
SOURCES
¹ Catherine Shannon, “The Spiritual Trap of Our Own Image,” The New York Times, 2 August 2026.
² Elizabeth Palmer, “What Gen Z knows about the church, The Christian Century, September 2026.
