Every now and again, we encounter a question that stays with us long after the conversation has ended. Not because it seeks information, but because it reaches into the heart. In today’s Gospel, Jesus asks such a question. “Who do people say the Son of Man is?” The disciples answer easily enough. They repeat what they have heard others saying. Some think He is John the Baptist, others Elijah, or one of the prophets. Then Jesus asks a second question.
A far more personal question. “But you… who do you say I am?” Everything changes at that moment.
No one else can answer for Peter. No one else can answer for us. Every generation of Christians must eventually stand before that question. Not simply with our words, but with our lives. Who is Jesus Christ for me?
Peter responds with one of the most beautiful professions of faith in the whole of Scripture. “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God. “These are remarkable words.
Not because Peter has worked them out for himself, but because, as Jesus tells him, they have been revealed by the Father.
Faith is always a gift before it becomes our response. We do not discover Christ by our own cleverness. Rather, God slowly opens our hearts to recognise the One who has been walking beside us all along. That is true not only of Peter. It is equally true of Paul.
Although today’s Gospel focuses on Peter, the Church wisely celebrates Peter and Paul together. At first glance, they seem completely different. Peter was the fisherman from Galilee. Paul was the learned Pharisee from Tarsus. Peter was impulsive, often speaking before thinking. Paul was disciplined, logical and intellectually gifted. Peter denied the Lord three times. Paul persecuted the Church before becoming its greatest missionary.
Yet God’s grace embraced both men. Not because they were perfect. But because they allowed Christ to reshape their lives. I find that deeply consoling.
Sometimes we imagine that holiness belongs to people who have no weaknesses. The lives of Peter and Paul tell a different story. Holiness belongs to those who allow God’s grace to work patiently within them. That is true of every vocation. It is certainly true within the monastic life. When we enter the monastery, we do not leave behind our weaknesses. We bring them with us. Our impatience. Our fears. Our limitations. Our hopes. Our failures. The monastery is not a place where perfect people gather. It is a place where imperfect people consent, day by day, to be transformed by Christ. That is a lesson which takes a lifetime to learn. The same is true for every Christian. The Lord does not call us because we are already holy. He calls us so that, by His grace, we may become holy.
After Peter’s profession of faith, Jesus says something extraordinary. “You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my Church.” Notice that Jesus does not say, “You will build my Church.” He says, “I will build my Church.” The Church ultimately does not rest upon human strength. It rests upon Christ Himself. Peter is the rock because Christ has first made him so. That is an important distinction.
Throughout history, the Church has known moments of great holiness and moments of profound weakness. There have been saints whose lives reflected Christ with extraordinary beauty. There have also been failures that have caused deep pain. Yet through every age, Christ has remained faithful to His promise. “I will build my Church.”
That promise continues to sustain us today.
On this feast we remember with gratitude the ministry of the successor of Peter, Pope Leo. We pray too for Bishop Fintan and for the whole Diocese of Killaloe, whose Cathedral in Ennis bears the names of Saints Peter and Paul. Their patronage reminds us that every local Church shares in the same apostolic faith first entrusted to these two great witnesses. Yet today’s Gospel finally returns us to where it began. “Who do you say I am?” It is a question that never grows old. It accompanies us throughout our lives. As young people. As adults. As priests. As monks. As husbands and wives. As widows and widowers. As we grow older. The answer deepens as we ourselves are changed. Perhaps in our younger years we answer with enthusiasm. Later, we answer with experience. And, if we remain faithful, there comes a time when we answer less with our words and more with the quiet witness of our lives.
Peter and Paul eventually answered that question not simply by preaching Christ, but by giving their lives for Him. Most of us will never be called to die a martyr’s death. But every day we are invited to live a martyr’s love. To forgive. To persevere. To remain faithful. To pray. To serve quietly. To prefer nothing whatever to Christ. Then, little by little, our lives themselves become our answer. Not a perfect answer. Not a finished answer. But an answer that grows deeper with every passing year.
May Saints Peter and Paul pray for us, that our own lives may proclaim with increasing conviction the faith that Peter confessed: “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.”Amen.