Today Christians everywhere are celebrating two of the “founding fathers” of Christianity: Saints Peter and Paul. It’s interesting to note that, being the “stars” of the historical and Scriptural story, they don’t have a feast day of their own, but have to share the spotlight! It isn’t as if they came on the scene together. Paul never met Jesus “in the flesh,” while Peter was one of the original twelve followers of Christ. We know Peter as much for his weaknesses as for his strengths while Paul appears (after his cinematic first appearance on the scriptural stage) to be a staunch follower of Christ throughout.
It’s clear from the lectionary readings that St. Paul never wavered in his faith after his conversion. His testimony (2 TM 4: 6-8. 17-18) is stirring and ultimately gives the credit for everything to Christ who has rescued him from his former life of persecuting Christians. This morning, however, I see just a tinge of the former ranking officer as he says, “I have competed well; I have finished the race…the crown of righteousness awaits me…” (I smile at that, knowing that we never outgrow ourselves totally in our conversions!)
Peter gets the prize today in my estimation, however (if we are to award a prize…). We have a story from the Acts of the Apostles (12: 1-11), a great narration of Peter’s rescue from prison by an angel. More important for us, I think, is the gospel passage from Matthew (16: 13-19), a moment when Jesus asked the disciples about what people were saying about his identity. They reported hearing that he might be a prophet or maybe even the return of John the Baptist. Then comes the question of the day – or of a lifetime: “But who do you say that I am?” We need to remember that this was before the Crucifixion and the Resurrection…somewhere in their travels with this amazing preacher, but not the Christ that we now know. It was Peter who spoke up that day with a faith that carried him through several failures as well as some glorious successes. “You are the Christ, Son of the living God.” I believe that the faith which prompted that response from Peter was grounded in his great love for Jesus, a love that did not necessarily mean perfection in his living, but rather in a willingness to never stop trying.
We can learn a lot from today: the amazing zeal and accomplishment of Paul coupled with the love and steadfastness of Peter can be a source of inspiration and a way to accept our personal manner of Christian living. Whether we have an easy walk or a stone-littered path with Jesus, we can celebrate those models who first encountered Jesus the Christ and who remain for us today.
This morning I find myself considering the concept of inspiration, a word that, in itself, has a complex history and many different – if related – meanings. It comes from the Latin inspiratus, the past participle of a verb that means to breathe into. In a concrete way, it tells us how we get air into our lungs which is, of course, the basic necessity for living. I found what I was looking for, however, in the answer to an internet question that asked, “What does it mean when someone says, You are my inspiration?” Here is what it said.
Sometimes it’s necessary to count on the words of others for inspiration or solace. That’s one of the primary reasons for my frequent references to biblical texts or modern inspirational writers at this season when bad news seems to vie with inclement weather to wipe out most, if not all, spiritual energy. Joyce Rupp is my “saving grace” this morning with the conclusion to a prayer service for peace in her book, Prayer Seeds. May it be a motivator for you as well.
Today Christians the world over celebrate an unlikely “celebrity” of the Church. For someone reading a sketch of her life for the first time – just the facts – St. Therese of Lisieux would appear to be no one special, although tragic maybe, because she only lived until the age of 24 years, having contracted tuberculosis at a young age. What one learns, however, in studying her own writings and the evidence in other sources, is that she is one of the most popular saints in the history of Christianity. How is this possible for someone who entered a cloistered Carmelite community at the age of 15 years and lived a daily routine of prayer and household tasks until her death nine years later?
Instead of just speaking of a childhood practice of nighttime prayer (“Angel of God, my guardian dear…”) on this feast of the Archangels Michael, Gabriel and Raphael, I decided to google them and then angels in general. I could spend the day reading with what I found on the internet – some items familiar to me and some totally foreign. I won’t be researching today as other tasks are already calling to me, but I will put it on my list of “to-do” projects, I think, as there is a vast body of information that attests to the reality and functionality of these powerhouses of presence in the spiritual world.
I have to smile this morning as I sit here waiting for a message to arise when prompts are all around me. My brain feels like a broken record and I wonder if I will ever move through a day – or even an hour – without falling out of consciousness. Here’s what I mean.
The gospel this morning tells Luke’s version of the encounter Jesus had with a blind man. I am always struck in the healing stories when Jesus asks the desire of the person he meets who is in need. I never doubt that he can see that condition in the person, so either he is looking for a statement of faith or he wants to be sure of the depth of the person’s intention or desire to be healed. Although life might be easier for the man if he gets his sight, there may be new responsibilities attached to the healing as well. Maybe he will have to find a job, rather than sitting by the side of the road begging. Certainly he will need to become attentive to people who are in need of help with certain life tasks because of infirmities. Who better since he has been there himself?
Not having any inspiration this morning – nor even cogent thoughts for that matter, I have been searching the words of Macrina Wiederkehr for an expression that would mirror how I’m feeling. Since I am unable to recognize myself in anything I read, I choose simply to offer her prayer that begins: There are mornings when I simply sit in silence trying to remember some of the things that rise in me. Her list is challenging but maybe if I focus on even one of the elements, it will jump-start my motivation for the day. May this day be a blessing for each of us and all of us together as we rise to the call of the Spirit.
The Sophia Center for Spirituality 