Feast of St. Peter & St. Paul – Solemnity
Trinity 7/Ordinary Time 13 – Sunday
[ now playing? ] Avenue Q OST
For St. Peter:
“I do so love St. Peter,” says a friend of mine. “Whenever he opens his mouth, he puts his foot in it”.
She is right, of course. Whatever else St. Peter may be, he is not the model of a wise and noble hero. He walks on the water – but then panics and starts to sink. He makes the first profession of faith – and moments later blunders into error and is called Satan by the Lord. He refuses to be washed, and then, when the purpose is explained to him, demands to be washed all over. And, of course, he betrays his master soon after having been warned that he will and having sworn not to. If Peter is the rock on which the Church is built, what a fissured and friable rock it is! How much better, we think, to have chosen the Sons of Thunder, for their energy; or Judas Iscariot, for his financial acumen; or John, because he was loved the best.
The choosing of Peter teaches us a lesson. The Church’s foundation-stone and its first leader is not all-wise, all-knowing, good, heroic, and beautiful. He is a very ordinary man who makes about as many mistakes as we would in his place, and kicks himself for them just as thoroughly afterwards. If St. Peter had been a hero, we could easily have despaired of ever becoming like him. If St. Peter had been great, and noble, and good, we could have told ourselves that the Church is for the saints, despaired, sat down, and not bothered. But the Church is not just for saints: it is for confused, impetuous, cowardly people like us – or St. Peter. The rock crumbles, the ropes are frayed, the wood is rotten – but, although that improbable building, the Church, is made of such inferior materials, it grows (on the whole) faster than it collapses, and it is grace that holds it together.
In the end, it was grace that gave the coward the courage to bear witness when it counted, grace that gave the fool the wisdom he needed to set the infant Church on her way, grace that taught the impetuous man patience and forbearance.
We none of us admire ourselves, however much we would like to; let us not try to admire St. Peter either, but admire instead the grace he was given, and pray that, weak as we are, we may be given it too, and may use it.
For St. Paul:
St. Paul is not an attractive figure today. We are still knee deep in the overripe fruit of late romanticism: we admire men who feel, not think; who enchant people into following them, not argue them into submission.
There is even, nowadays, a fashion for saying that Paul invented Christianity as we know it, that he set out with the cynical aim of fashioning an enduring institution; and that the real Christianity, the Christianity of Christ, is something quite different from and far nicer than the Christianity we know.
Yes, Paul’s mind did shape the early Church. Yes, without him things would have been different. And all the information that we have in the New Testament is entirely consistent with the whole thing being a Pauline conspiracy.
But so what? “Consistent with” is a treacherous phrase. The evidence of my eyes is entirely consistent with there being an invisible lion in my fireplace, because you can’t see invisible lions; but I still don’t believe there is one. I trust the world, I have faith in it, and invisible lions are not part of that faith. I trust God, I have faith in the Holy Spirit – I say so out loud on Sundays – and I believe that God called Saul because he needed him, and that the renamed Saul did and said what needed to be said and done.
Paul is not some cold and remote intellectual – just read the Epistles, and see if that stands up. Paul is always reminding people of his weakness – look, I know what I ought to do, and I keep on doing the opposite – look, I have this thorn in my flesh and God absolutely refuses to take it away. Paul is not all mind – he does have his troubles too.
But yes, Paul does have a mind, and that raises problems in an age that doesn’t, that uses “clever” as a term of abuse. Remember, though, that we are commanded to love the Lord our God with all our heart, with all our soul, with all our mind, and with all our strength. Perhaps we cannot love St. Paul very much nowadays; but let us at least pray for the grace to love God with our minds, as he did.
I’m reading through Alan Bartlett’s A Passionate Balance: The Anglican Tradition of late (one book in the “Traditions of Christian Spirituality” series published by London’s Darton, Longman & Todd).
There’s a section in here talking about Anglicanism’s via media (middle way) and (St.) George Herbert. Here’s some of Herbert’s words from the 17th century on the attributes of a priest from his book “A Country Parson” in respect of Word & Sacrament.
From chapter 7, “The Parson Preaching”, Herbert writes:
The Country Parson preacheth constantly: the pulpit is his joy and his throne. (emphasis mine)
For a priest, preaching the Word of God is central. For when he preaches, he is preaching the Gospel. What greater joy can a priest have than this? And what an honor as well to preach from the pulpit. It should be enough to ground him in the sense that he is in a sense, an alter Christus, the other Christ who stands in the midst of us as Christ’s representative and proclaims and teaches us from the Word of God. And it is not only for the clergy, but as evangelicals, all of us in the laity are also given that commandment to preach the Gospel (and follow up with making disciples per the Great Commission) given that we hold the general priesthood of Christ.
But then in chapter 22, titled “The Parson in Sacraments”, Herbert turns his attention to one of the other central focuses in Christian worship. Before, he talks about the preaching of the Word. Now, he talks about the Holy Sacraments, especially in the Eucharist given that Holy Baptism is only done once in a Christian’s life:
The Country Parson being to administer the Sacraments, is at a stand with himself how or what behaviour to assume for so holy things. Especially at Communion times he is in a great confusion, as being not only to receive God, but to break and administer Him. (emphasis mine)
For evangelicals like myself who have recovered a sense of “catholicism” in worship, these words are significant. For it is not merely enough that in the Eucharist, it is only a mere recollection, but in it we receive God under the form of bread and wine. And for a priest, he also receives God like us in the laity, but he also has the honor and privilege to “break and administer” Christ. In most evangelical churches, this isn’t readily apparent given that there is no paten, upon which a host of altar bread lies when we come to celebrate Holy Communion.
Herbert, writes about a high view of preaching and sacraments (especially in the real presence of Christ in the Eucharist). In the Anglican divines (however major or minor), there is such a balance present on Word and Sacrament that is why I can say that as a Methodist (who historically is an evangelical Anglican), I am an Evangelical. And the part of me which is Anglican, I’m also Catholic.
And not only that, if in the Eucharist, Christ is broken on the altar and administered from there thenceforth, I cannot help but bow or genuflect in thankfulness and in reverence whenever I pass before the altar/Lord’s Table. For it is there that my encounter with Christ at every Eucharist begins.