Belief is a wonderful thing. It’s more than knowing, more than sensing, more than feeling. But when life comes crashing down with its full weight on our heads, faith doesn’t seem substantial enough to hold us up. We Christians believe a truly nonsensical story. God, out of love, becomes one of us, lives our life in fidelity to all that is truly right and good, and dies our death in a most humiliating and disgraceful manner. But that’s not the end. In the epilogue, this God-man, Jesus, is raised to life again and initiates a world-altering movement – dependent on faith.

No wonder, taken at face value, this appears totally outrageous. Except to some who have experienced this Jesus as a force and loving inspiration in and for their lives. Believing in Jesus, and in his story, takes courage, because it calls us to a radical change of life. The promise is, that if we can generate a critical mass of belief, and put this faith into action, our world will be transformed for the better. Many times this can feel like sledding uphill on bare dirt and loose, coarse gravel.

Jesus’ invitation doesn’t go down well to those who cautiously sit on the fence waiting for more proof, when all that is given is promise. If we trust wholeheartedly in this promise, we can experience the presence and action of God’s Spirit – aka the Holy Spirit – transforming us. We can recognize this Spirit at work within and through us to the extent that we find ourselves loving in ways we never thought possible.

Belief is a wonderful thing. And it’s not for the faint of heart.

 

From grade school, if not before, I have always understood the image of “the keys to the Kingdom” in a certain way. This year, on the Feast of Saints Peter and Paul (June 29), another possible interpretation presented itself as I read the gospel of the day – often designated as Peter’s Profession of Faith (Matthew 16:13-19). Let me try to explain.

Jesus and his closest followers are in the extreme north of Palestine, near one of the sources of the Jordan River – Gentile territory – in the area around the city, Caesarea Philippi. Jesus stops and asks his disciples what people are saying about who he is. They respond with a short list of the usual suspects: Elijah, Jeremiah, one of the other old-time prophets, John the Baptist… Then Jesus continues, “and what do you think?”

“Who do you say I am?” This is a critical question that Jesus directs also to us. How do we answer it?

Simon, also called Peter by Jesus, true to his impetuous nature, blurts out: “You are the Messiah, Son of the Living God!” Jesus responds, “This insight you have doesn’t come from human speculation or conjecture, it’s divinely inspired.”  You can picture Simon Peter standing straighter, beaming, nodding his head. He’s just gone to the head of the class. Jesus’ praise is confirmation that Peter deserves his sure and certain place in Jesus’ confidence.

But there’s more in Matthew’s version. This is the only Gospel that has the designation of Peter as the foundation stone for the assembled community that will grow from Jesus’ life, death and resurrection. “You are Peter, and upon this rock (great pun, since Peter and rock are synonymous) I will build up my community. I will give you the keys to the Kingdom of Heaven. Whatever you tie up will be tied in heaven; whatever you free up, will be free in heaven.” I always thought that this meant that Peter had the power and authority to control access to heaven. Can’t be. That belongs to God alone.

The keys are to the Kingdom, not to heaven. This Kingdom of God is already here, yet still growing snd developing. It is a kingdom of profound and pervasive peace, a Kingdom of Shalom. The binding and loosing, tying and freeing, is the key. It speaks of forgiveness, freely given or withheld. We can enter this Kingdom, we can live at peace, as long as we know, in our heart of hearts, that we are forgiven and that we forgive any and all, including our selves. Not always easy! The keys to God’s Kingdom are mercy, compassion, forgiveness. What we do here, during our lifetime, has enduring effects.

Just a few verses later (Matthew 16:21-23), Jesus will be scolding Peter for his gross lack of understanding of Jesus’ mission and it’s almost certain outcome (suffering, death). Peter, strong and sure one moment, weak, tottering and off track the next. That’s why Rock can also be called Rocky. Here is a very human foundation for a very human enterprise. When the critical hour arrives, Peter, out of fear, denies Jesus. When he realizes what he has done, he has a choice: to go the way of despair – like Judas, or to embrace the unconditional promise of forgiveness and to forgive himself. He chooses to accept forgiveness. Now he is ready to enter the Kingdom of Shalom, and to open the way for others.