There were fifteen of us, young men around twenty-seven years old, give or take. The group was a decent reflection of our society at the time, our origins ranging from rural areas to big cities and everything in between. Some of us had been qualified and certified for specific jobs, others had entered the seminary with a so-called “general knowledge secondary education”. We had as many things in common as we did differences. All were ordained as priests over twenty-eight years ago, and since then, each has been taken on a different path through their ministry. I can’t speak for my colleagues, but I wouldn’t have predicted all those years ago where mine would take me. “The wind blows where it wishes, and you hear its sound, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.” (John 3:8)
This dull story of mine is yet another example of God’s seemingly illogical method of choosing people to fulfil His mission since time immemorial. About three thousand years ago, Samuel the prophet learnt to understand it when he was sent to secretly anoint a new king of Israel. The seven sons of Jesse, starting with the oldest, were presented to Samuel, but against his judgement, none qualified for the role: “Do not look on his appearance or on the height of his stature, because I have rejected him. For the Lord sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.” (1 Samuel 16:7) The one chosen by God wasn’t even there; he had to be called in from the field where he looked after sheep. In due course, he would become the famous King David.
The beginning of a completely new chapter in the history of salvation started in a similar way. Jesus chose followers who were often of low social standing, mostly from Galilee, which was considered inferior by the Judean elites. This was clear in a derisive remark about Jesus made to Nicodemus in St John’s gospel: “Are you from Galilee too? Search and see that no prophet arises from Galilee.” (7:52) Some of Jesus’ followers were disliked by society for their publicly sinful lifestyle or job, like Matthew the tax collector. Their flaws, shortcomings, tendencies to quarrel, and pursuit of personal gain are all well depicted in the gospels, raising questions about Jesus’ seemingly poor judgement, best illustrated in Judas Iscariot, who would betray him for thirty pieces of silver, roughly up to £300 in today’s money. Simon Peter, the one appointed by Jesus to be the figurehead of the newly formed community of believers, as we heard in today’s gospel, would soon publicly disown knowing Jesus three times in quick succession when his own life seemed to be at stake.
The other character in today’s feast, Paul, earned his stripes as a fiery and determined persecutor of the new faith. Well-educated and brought up in Tarsus, a cosmopolitan, prominent centre of learning, comparable to Athens and Alexandria in its intellectual pursuits. Known as Saul, he first appeared during the stoning of St Stephen in Jerusalem when he kept an eye on the executioners’ robes. Although the biblical book of Acts didn’t indicate that he played an active role in the murder, it said that “Saul approved of his execution.” (8:1) Quickly, he earned such a fearsome reputation among early Christians that after his famous Damascene moment, one of them, Ananias, tasked by God with visiting Saul, expressed his reservation: “Lord, I have heard from many about this man, how much evil he has done to your saints at Jerusalem. And here he has authority from the chief priests to bind all who call on your name.” (Acts 9:13-14) Like Samuel the prophet a thousand years earlier, Ananias’ judgement was overridden by God’s choice: “Go, for he is a chosen instrument of mine to carry my name before the Gentiles and kings and the children of Israel.” (Acts 9:15) After his conversion, Saul took on a new Greek name, Paulos, which means “small” or “humble,” but his achievements as the Apostle of nations turned out to be anything but that.
In many respects, St Peter and St Paul were complete opposites. There were times when their ideas, perspectives, and methods of ministry clashed. They had their differences and disagreements. The New Testament neither glossed over nor hid these tensions. They were left in the open for generations of Christians to see, to learn how to handle the challenging views and directions that the Church would and inevitably will face. Over the course of two millennia, the community of the faithful has faced numerous crises, troubles, and difficulties that logically should have ended it. Yet, in order to fulfil His mission of salvation, God continues to find imperfect, inadequate, ill-equipped, and unworthy individuals; namely, you and me. “The Lord sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.”
