Peter & Paul: Not Quite Perfect.


Many years ago, there was a huge oil refinery fire. Flames shot hundreds of feet into the air. The sky was thick with grimy, black smoke. The heat was intense—so intense that firefighters had to park their trucks a block away and wait for the heat to die down before they could begin to fight the fire. However, it was about to rage out of control.

 

Then all of a sudden, from several blocks away came a fire truck, racing down the street with its brakes screeching. It hit the curb in front of the fire. The firefighters jumped out and began to battle the blaze. All the firefighters who were parked a block away saw this, and they jumped into their trucks, drove down the block, and began to fight the fire, too. As a result of that cooperative effort, they were just barely able to bring the fire under control.

 

The people who saw this teamwork thought, “My goodness, the man who drove that lead truck—what an act of bravery!” They decided to give him a special award to recognize him for his bravery in leading the charge.

 

At the ceremony the mayor said, “Captain, we want to honor you for a fantastic act of bravery. You prevented the loss of property—perhaps even the loss of life. If there is one special thing you could have—just about anything—what would it be?”

 

Without hesitation, the captain replied, “Your honor, a new set of brakes would be dandy!”

 

Today’s celebration is a feast of leadership. The two great apostles, Peter and Paul, are honored together for two reasons. First, they were tremendously committed to giving witness to their faith, to carrying on the mission of Jesus, and to building up the early church community. The second reason is that both happened to die in Rome, the capital of the Empire, the place that would become the center for the universal church.

 

But there’s more to the story. Both Peter and Paul felt a bit like the firefighter who asked for a new set of brakes. Both Peter and Paul would say that they do not deserve the honor being paid them.

 

Peter, you may recall, lost his courage on the night Jesus was arrested and taken into custody. Just as Jesus had predicted, Peter denied even knowing him, not once, but three times. After the resurrection, Jesus asked Peter, three times, do you love me—once for each denial. Peter declared his love, and was given the mission of tending Jesus’ flock. And even though Peter became a great leader, he never got over his sense of unworthiness. Tradition has it that, when it was time for him to be crucified, he asked to be crucified upside down—unworthy of a crucifixion exactly like the Lord’s.

 

Paul was the great missionary of the early church. He went on three long journeys, proclaiming the message to all who would hear, bringing about many conversions to the faith. And yet, Paul never forgot that, before this, he had been a persecutor of Jesus’ followers, considering them heretics. As an illustrious Pharisee, Paul wrote that he prided himself for being more zealous than the others. He had the power to imprison, and even put to death, those who were followers of Jesus Christ. And so, even though he was dramatically chosen by the risen Lord for his new mission, he never forgot that he had been an enemy of the gospel.

 

In the story I began with, the noble firefighter was humble enough to admit that he became a hero due to faulty brakes. In a similar way, even though Peter and Paul rose to the top, they never lost touch with their shortcomings. That made them humble, human and compassionate. Like Jesus, they were servant leaders.

 

What a great lesson, leaders who can admit that they are less than perfect. Leaders who can dispense forgiveness because they know they need forgiveness themselves.

 

And I think there’s a lesson in this for all of us. Many years ago, Pope Saint Paul VI stated that people are attracted to witnesses more than to teachers. And if they are attracted to teachers, it is because they are witnesses as well. Each of us has the ability to influence others, not necessarily in extravagant ways. Our influence comes from the fact that we care, that we have compassion, that we’re willing to lend an ear, or lend a hand. We don’t have to be perfect to make a difference. Peter and Paul weren’t perfect, but Jesus chose them anyway.

You might also like

Father's Homilies

By Charlene Currie December 17, 2025
Is It Right?
By Charlene Currie December 4, 2025
How Far Do You Want to Go?
By Charlene Currie November 28, 2025
Prairie Chickens and Eagles Homily for the Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe November 23, 2025 An American Indian tells about a brave who found an eagle’s egg and put it into the nest of a prairie chicken. The eaglet hatched with the brood of chicks and grew up with them. All its life the changeling eagle, thinking it was a prairie chicken, did what the other prairie chickens did. It scratched in the dirt for seeds and insects to eat. It clucked and cackled. And it flew in a brief thrashing of wings and flurry of feathers no more than a few feet off the ground. After all, that’s how prairie chickens were supposed to fly. Years passed, and the changeling grew very old. One day it saw a magnificent bird soaring far above in the cloudless sky. Hanging with graceful majesty on the powerful wind currents, it soared with scarcely a beat of its strong golden wings. “What a beautiful bird!” said the changeling eagle to its neighbor. “What is it?” “That’s an eagle—the chief of the birds,” the neighbor clucked. “But don’t give it a second thought. You could never be like him.” So, the changeling eagle never gave it another thought. And it died thinking it was a prairie chicken. Today, we are celebrating the fact that Jesus Christ is the King of all God’s creation. And yet, it is strange that the gospel passage chosen for this feast is the scene of Jesus’ crucifixion. Notice how weak he is. Consider how he is laughed at and made fun of. “He saved others, let him save himself if he is the chosen one, the Christ of God….If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself.” So, the problem is one of expectations. The bystanders were looking for an eagle, and all they saw before them was a prairie chicken! And yet, at the end of the gospel, this prairie chicken seems to have some power that prairie chickens don’t normally have. When Jesus is asked by the thief being crucified with him, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom,” Jesus replies, “Amen, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.” Hardly a promise that could be made by a prairie chicken! What’s going on here? I’d like to refer us to a passage we find in the writings of St. Paul, a section of his letter to the Philippians that is the second reading on Palm Sunday, when we reflect on the crucifixion of Jesus. Here it is: “Christ Jesus, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God something to be grasped. Rather, he emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, coming in human likeness; and found human in appearance, he humbled himself, becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Because of this, God greatly exalted him and bestowed on him the name which is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend, of those in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.” Jesus taught the way of humility and service. He came to raise others up, especially those who were bowed down by poverty or prejudice. He taught that there was no greater love than to lay down one’s life for the love of others. Greatness is found not in building oneself up at the expense of others, but in building up others, especially those who need it the most. So, Jesus emptied himself, to the point of looking like a prairie chicken, and in doing so he showed us the way to the eternal kingdom by means of humble service, that we might become who we truly are, eagles destined to soar beyond the clouds.