The Twenty-First Sunday in Ordinary Time (Year A)
You are Peter and upon this rock I will build my Church
and the gates of the netherworld shall not prevail against it.
—Matthew 16:18
A few years ago, I read the novel called The Snow Queen by Michael Cunningham. It’s the story of two brothers coping with the death of their mother and their family’s histrionics. One of the brothers, Barrett, is always trying to find a way to escape his own life and over the course of the novel, he comes realize how shallow he has become. At one point in the story, he remarks that, “The moment matters more than the future. The present—today, tonight; the sensation of walking into a room, and creating a real if fleeting hush—is what I care about, it’s all right with me if I leave nothing behind.”
Barrett isn’t worried about future generations or what contributions he can make to bring light or joy or peace or anything else into the world. As he said, “It’s all right if I leave nothing behind.” Unfortunately, this way of viewing life and relationships isn’t limited to the pages of novels. We can readily see the damage that this attitude causes in nearly every facet of society today.
Many live lives that are simply focused on “me” and what is best for “my life.” And this perspective gives us permission to ignore what is going on around us (as long as “I” am not affected) and outside voices are effectively prevented from disrupting or transforming the life that I have chosen for myself. We can see most especially see this at work in the volatile partisanship that pervades American culture, in which even the most basic public discourse or debate has become nearly impossible. We can also shut ourselves off to God’s transforming Word, finding ourselves left with a “crisis of truth,” embracing what Pope Francis has described as “subjective truths of the individual… truths valid only for that individual and not capable of being proposed to others in an effort to serve the common good” (Lumen Fidei, no. 25).
It’s easy to settle for this way of living life, to live only for the self and for “now”—this moment—because it is to live for the future. And yet, that is exactly what the Gospel asks of us: to be very aware of what it is we leave behind. Or to say it another way, we are being invited to live as good ancestors. As the encyclical Laudato Si’ asks us: “What kind of a world do we want to leave to those who come after us, to children who are now growing up?” (no. 60).
“Christ and Peter” by Raphael (1515)
The Gospel proclaimed this Sunday recounts Saint Peter’s great profession of faith: “You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God” (Matthew 16:16). And we also hear Jesus’ reply to Peter: “Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah. For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you. And so I say to you, you are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church” (16:17-18). For Catholics, this passage from Matthew’s Gospel forms the foundation for our belief in the primacy—the authority—of the Bishop of Rome, the successor of Saint Peter (see Lumen Gentium, no. 22). But on a more basic level, this Gospel passage marks a pivotal moment in the lives of Peter, the other Apostles, and all Jesus’ followers.
We know from other gospel stories how Peter’s personality gets in the way. Peter doesn’t always get it right. But at the end of the day, it isn’t Peter’s character or achievements that make him a “rock.” Instead, it’s his faith in Jesus that makes him stable and strong enough to be a foundation stone for the Church.
Peter’s faith is more than intellectual knowledge; it is his relationship with Jesus. When he confesses that Jesus is the Christ, Peter is speaking out of his own deep, loving, and personal knowledge of who Jesus is.
Despite very human faults, we do eventually see Peter and the first generations of Christians fulfilled their mission in the ministry after Pentecost. Their witness shepherded the Early Church through persecutions, internal divisions, scandals, growing pains, and theological exploration. They left us a legacy of faith. Rather than simply remaining focused on their own experiences of Jesus—and the joys and consolations those encounters offered—they lived their lives looking toward the future, aware of what it was they were leaving behind. The work of building up the Church continues today and we are a part of that mission. The way we live this present moment and engage the challenges and possibilities and promises of the future will shape the lives of those who come after us.
Part of our offering of faith, part of living this faith is being mindful that our acts and our omissions have an impact on those who come after us. Living only for our own present isn’t an option, because we have been entrusted with a responsibility to live for the future. How this takes shape in each of our lives reveals itself in our prayer and discernment, most especially in how we actively engage our faith communities and the world around us. The point of all of this, is that we recognize how much we have received from those who came before us but who were concerned about what they left behind.
Living for the future is hard, and so is living our lives for the sake of others. But it is only by engaging in this hard work that we can hope to find our salvation.
O God, who cause the minds of the faithful
to unite in a single purpose,
grant your people to love what you command
and to desire what you promise,
that, amid the uncertainties of this world,
our hearts may be fixed on that place
where true gladness is found.
Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,
who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
God, for ever and ever. Amen.
-Collect for the Twenty-First Sunday in Ordinary Time
