Reverence For the Holy and Powerful Name of Jesus

(Twenty-sixth Sunday of the Year (A): This homily was given on September 25, 2011 at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I., by Fr. Raymond Suriani.  Read Philippians 2: 6-11.)

[For the audio version of this homily, click here: Twenty-sixth Sunday 2011]

Father Gabriele Amorth is the chief exorcist of the Diocese of Rome.  In a recent issue of the Magnificat magazine, he was quoted as saying the following:

Christ’s centrality tells us that we can be saved only in his name.  It is only in his name that we can win and free ourselves from the enemy of our salvation, Satan.  At the end of the most difficult exorcisms, when I am confronted with total demonic possession, I pray the Christological hymn of the Letter of Paul to the Philippians [2: 6-11, which we heard in our second reading at this Mass].  When I speak the words “so that all beings in the heavens, on earth, and in the underworld should bend the knee at the name of Jesus,” I kneel, everyone present kneels, and always the one possessed by the demons is also compelled to kneel.  It is a moving and powerful moment.  I always feel that all the legions of the angels are surrounding us, kneeling at the name of Jesus.

It’s very interesting—even during an exorcism, the demons of hell must acknowledge the truth about Jesus Christ, our Savior.  Although I’m sure they don’t want to, they’re compelled to acknowledge the Lordship of Jesus, and to express reverence for his holy name.

So what are we to conclude about those human beings—those men and women in our world today—who regularly use our Savior’s name as a curse word?

People possessed by demons bend their knees at the name of Jesus, and these others use the Lord’s holy name to express their anger or to curse out their neighbors! 

I’d like to think that no one here does that, but there are many out there who do!  And that includes some who call themselves Christians!

On that note, have you noticed how the television and radio censors have changed their policy in recent years?  I’m sure some of you have.  It used to be the case that all 4-letter words, as well as all curses involving the name of God and the name of Jesus, got censored on network TV and on radio. 

But not anymore!  Oh yes, the 4-letter words still get “bleeped-out” (at least some of the time!) but all the curses that mention God and Jesus are left alone.

If you haven’t noticed that trend before in the media, pay attention to it in the future.

Paragraph 2146 of the Catechism states: “The second commandment forbids the abuse of God’s name, i.e., every improper use of the names of God, Jesus Christ, but also of the Virgin Mary and all the saints.”

I don’t know about you, but I cringe when I hear the name of God or Jesus or Mary or one of the saints used in an improper way—especially when it’s done by someone who claims to love the Lord!

Would a husband who claimed to love his wife ever use her name as a curse word?  Would a wife who claimed to love her husband ever use his name in that way?

Of course not! 

Here I think we Christians can learn a very important lesson from our Jewish brothers and sisters.  The Jews, you know, have an incredible reverence for the name of God.  They always have.  In Old Testament times, for example, God was designated by many titles—El, Elohim, Adonai, etc.—but the proper name of God (that is to say, the name he revealed to Moses on Mt. Sinai: Yahweh) was never said either in religious rituals or in casual conversation.  The only time it was ever spoken was once a year, by the high priest, when he went into the Holy of Holies of the Temple for a special ceremony on the Day of Atonement.

Other than that, nobody said it.  Nobody DARED to say it.  This was a sign of the reverence the Jewish people had for the Lord who had rescued them from slavery and brought them into the Promised Land.  And it was also a sign that they recognized God’s supreme and ultimate authority over their lives.

That’s because when we human beings use someone’s name, we often do it to assert our authority over that particular person.  When I did something wrong as a child, for example, my mother would begin her reprimand in one of 3 ways.  She would sometimes say, “Raymond!”—then I knew I was in trouble; or she’d say, “Raymond Nicholas!”—then I knew I was in big trouble; or she’d say, “Raymond Nicholas Suriani!”—then I knew I’d better get out of town fast!

She asserted her authority over me by using my name (in various forms!).

Jews don’t speak God’s name at all, because they understand that they don’t have authority over him; rather he has authority over them! 

On this same point, many of you know Carol Marzano, John’s wife.  Carol comes to Mass with John almost every Sunday, although she is Jewish.  She’s actually more faithful to Sunday Mass than many Catholics are!  Well every once in awhile Carol will send me an email, and she’ll end it by saying “God bless”; however God will be written G-d.  In fact, anytime she mentions God in a letter that’s how she’ll write the word.

To this day, good Jews like Carol Marzano continue to show special reverence for God by not speaking his proper name, and by leaving out the middle letter “o” whenever they write or type the word “God”.

And to think that so many Christians use the name of Yahweh’s divine Son, Jesus Christ, as a curse word!  Or that they use the name of God as an exclamation—as a way of expressing surprise or fear: “Oh my God!”  Even that, my brothers and sisters, is something I think we should try to avoid—out of reverence for the Lord.  The only time an exclamation like that would be acceptable is if it’s at the beginning of a prayer: “Oh my God, please help me!”  Otherwise it would be better to say something else: “Oh my gosh!”; “Oh my goodness”—something along those lines.

The name of Jesus, when it’s spoken with love and reverence, has great power, as Fr. Gabriele Amorth, the exorcist, attests in that paragraph I read to you at the beginning of my homily.  In the old Catholic Encyclopedia it says this: The name of Jesus, invoked with confidence . . .

1.      Brings help in bodily needs, according to the promise of Christ [given in Mark 16:17-18].  In the name of Jesus the apostles gave strength to the lame (Acts 3:6; 9:34) and life to the dead (Acts 9:40).

2.      [The name of Jesus] gives consolation in spiritual trials. The name of Jesus reminds the sinner of the prodigal son's father and of the Good Samaritan; it recalls to the just the suffering and death of the innocent Lamb of God.

3.      [The name of Jesus] protects us against Satan and his wiles, for the Devil fears the name of Jesus, who has conquered him on the Cross.

4.      In the name of Jesus we obtain every blessing and grace for time and eternity, for Christ has said: "If you ask the Father anything in my name he will give it you." (John 16:23) Therefore the Church concludes all her prayers by the words: "Through our Lord Jesus Christ", etc.

And so, Lord Jesus, please help us—and please help every Christian on this planet—to speak your holy name with the love and with the reverence that it deserves—for your glory, and for our benefit.  Amen.

The Reward Will Be the Same, But People’s Capacity to Enjoy the Reward Will Be Different!

(Twenty-fifth Sunday of the Year (A): This homily was given on September 18, 2011 at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I. by Fr. Raymond Suriani.  Read Isaiah 55: 6-9; Matthew 20: 1-16a.)

[For the audio version of this homily, click here: Twenty-fifth Sunday 2011]

The reward will be the same, but people’s capacity to enjoy the reward will be different.

This is a very important truth for us to keep in mind when we’re trying to understand the parable we just heard from Matthew 20, this well-known story of the workers in the vineyard.

First of all, however, we need to make a crucial distinction: we need to distinguish between the primary meaning of this parable as it was told by Jesus Christ 2,000 years ago, and the legitimate—but secondary—application of the parable that people very often make.

The primary meaning of this story is that Gentiles, through God’s saving grace, have the same opportunity to go to heaven that Jews have.  That’s it, in a nutshell.  Here’s how one Bible commentary explains it:

This parable is addressed to the Jewish people, whom God called at an early hour, centuries ago.  Now the Gentiles are also being called—with an equal right to form part of a new people of God, the Church.  In both cases it is a matter of a gratuitous, unmerited, invitation; therefore, those who were the ‘first’ to receive the call have no grounds for complaining when God calls the ‘last’ and gives them the same reward. . . . Jesus leaves no doubt that although he calls us to follow different ways, all receive the same reward—heaven.”  (Navarre Bible Commentary on the Gospel of Matthew, page 173.)

This brings us to the secondary application of the story, which is where people often get confused.  Let me frame the issue in this way: From the way the story is told, it seems that non-believers who convert and get baptized on their deathbeds—and lapsed Catholics who make a good and sincere confession right before they die—get the best of both worlds (so to speak).  They live their entire lives doing what they want and having a good old time, but in the end they get the same heavenly reward that someone like Mother Teresa gets!

So people read this text and say, “Why should I make the effort to know, love and serve God every day?  Why should I try to be holy and obedient to the Lord in all things?  Why should I fight the good fight and run the race and keep the faith?  What difference does it make?  According to what Jesus says here I can do whatever I want for my entire life, convert at the end, and I’ll get the same reward as the great saints who served God faithfully for their entire lives!”

Ah yes, but these good people are forgetting one thing—one very important thing; as I said a few moments ago, the reward will be the same, but people’s capacity to enjoy the reward will be different.

Everyone, in other words, who dies in the state of grace will eventually get into the eternal kingdom of God—even if their conversion (or re-version to Christ) happened at the “11^th hour” of their life.  So the “reward” of every saved person will be the same: heaven.  But the capacity of a particular person—me, for example, to experience God and his blessings in the kingdom will be greater or lesser, depending on the level of holiness I attained during my earthly life.

Jesus indicated this when he talked about “the least” and “the greatest” in the kingdom of heaven, and when he spoke about the seat at his right hand and the seat at his left hand in his Father’s kingdom.  We also see an indication of it in John 14, where our Lord said, “In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places.”

St. Augustine described this situation by, in effect, comparing our souls to different sized containers.  Pope Benedict alludes to this idea of Augustine in one of his encyclicals when he writes: “Man was created for greatness—for God himself; he was created to be filled by God. But his heart is too small for the greatness to which it is destined. It must be stretched.  [As St. Augustine says,] ‘By delaying [his gift], God strengthens our desire; through desire he enlarges our soul and by expanding it he increases its capacity [for receiving him].’”  (Spe Salvi, n. 33)

By following the advice that Isaiah gives us in today’s first reading and seeking the Lord faithfully through prayer and through the sacraments; by living in faith and performing acts of selfless charity; by growing closer to Jesus Christ and becoming more like him—that is to say, by growing in holiness each day—we increase our capacity for God.  That’s Augustine’s point here.

This means that someone who has a conversion on his deathbed will probably have a much smaller capacity for God in heaven than a great saint like Pius X—or even compared to an ordinary Christian who grew in faith and in holiness for many years on earth.

The person who has a conversion at the end of his life will probably have a capacity for God in heaven that’s the size of a thimble.  Comparatively speaking, the ordinary, holy Christian will have a capacity for God that’s the size of a pint or quart; whereas the great saints of the Church like Pius X and Mother Teresa will be like gallons!

Now the interesting thing is, in heaven everyone will be full: everyone will be full of God and his grace!  But the fullness experienced by the thimble-sized soul will be a lot different than the fullness experienced by the gallon-sized soul of the saint! 

So yes, the reward will be the same, but people’s capacity to enjoy the reward will be different.

I was trying to think of another earthly analogy that I could use to conclude my homily today and drive home this point, and what came to me was the following example:

Imagine two men, John and Bill, who work for the same company.  One day the boss calls them into his office and says, “Gentlemen, you’ve done excellent work lately, and to show my appreciation I’m going to give you my two tickets to this Sunday’s Patriots’ game.  I’m going out of town this weekend, so I can’t use them.  Here they are.  Enjoy!—they’re great seats, on the 50 yard line, ten rows up.”

John and Bill say, “Thank you very much, sir!” and they immediately make plans to go to the game.

Here now is a little essential background information on these two men:

John has been a Patriots’ fan for as long as he can remember—ever since he was a little boy 50 years ago.  He’s been loyal to the team in good times and in bad—which includes the mid-1960s, when the Patriots were one of the worst teams in the old AFL.  He watches every game; he knows the statistics of Tom Brady and all the key players; he has Patriots memorabilia all over his house!

Bill also is a Patriots’ fan—although he’s only been one for a couple of years.  One reason for that is that he’s originally from Australia, where “football” means something very different than it does here in the United States.  In fact, he’s still learning about our game.  For example, the last time he watched a game of American football on television, the punter punted the ball out of the end zone and Bill thought the man had just kicked a field goal!

So I ask you, in all likelihood which of these two men will enjoy Sunday’s Patriots’ game more?  Which one will have the capacity—the ability—to enjoy it more?

The answer, of course, is John.  Because John has been a faithful follower of the Pats for so many years; because he knows the game of football so well and has persevered with his team through thick and thin, HIS CAPACITY TO ENJOY THIS REWARD FROM HIS BOSS WILL BE MUCH, MUCH GREATER THAN BILL’S, since Bill barely knows what an American football is!

But notice—both men will have the same experience—the exact same experience; both will have the same reward from their boss—a free ticket to this game.  

Their reward will be the same, but their capacity to enjoy the reward will be different!

And so it will be for souls in heaven.

Persevering Peter

"Quo vadis, Domine?"

 (Twenty-second Sunday of the Year (A): This homily was given on August 28, 2011 at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I. by Fr. Raymond Suriani.  Read Matthew 16: 21-27.)

[For the audio version of this homily, click here: Twenty-second Sunday 2011]

“Persevering Peter”

That’s the title of today’s homily: Persevering Peter.

Now when we think of Peter—and here I’m talking specifically about Peter before the Resurrection (in other words, the Peter we encounter during the earthly ministry of Jesus)—perseverance is probably not the first word that comes to mind.  Some words that do come to mind when describing the Peter we see during Jesus’ 3-year ministry (at least they come to my mind!) are words like: impulsive, weak, inconsistent, impatient, erratic and hot-headed.

But even back then he was also a man of perseverance—almost incredible perseverance.

Which is probably one of the biggest reasons why Jesus chose him to be the very first pope!

Can you imagine how frustrating and how discouraging it can be at times to be the spiritual leader of a worldwide community of faith that includes not only some of the greatest saints on the planet, but also some of the worst—some of the most reprehensible—sinners on the planet?

Obviously our present Holy Father, Pope Benedict, needs an immense amount of perseverance to lead the Church in the midst of those circumstances.

And so did Peter 2,000 years ago! 

Well, by the grace of God, the man had it—in great abundance—even before Jesus rose from the dead and anointed him with the Holy Spirit at Pentecost.  We see Peter exercising perseverance throughout the gospels, but especially in passages like the one we heard last Sunday and the one we heard this morning (these two texts from Matthew, chapter 16).  Recall, for a moment, what we were told last weekend in our gospel reading: Jesus was with his apostles at Caesarea Philippi and there he asked them a crucial question: “Who do you say that I am?”

Peter spoke up and gave his famous answer: “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God”; to which Jesus immediately responded, “Blessed are you, Simon, son of Jonah, for flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my heavenly Father.  And so I say to you, you are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church, and the gates of the netherworld shall not prevail against it.  I will give you the keys to the kingdom of heaven.  Whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven; and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.”

Peter must have felt like a million bucks when Jesus said those words to him.  I know that’s how I would have felt!  I’m sure he didn’t fully understand what our Lord meant in telling him these things, but he knew it sounded pretty good—especially the part about having “the keys to the kingdom of heaven.”

Well today’s gospel reading picks up where last week’s left off.  Jesus begins to teach his apostles that he will be a suffering Messiah, not a great earthly ruler like King David (which was the kind of Messiah the Jews were expecting at the time: someone who would get rid of the Romans and make Israel a great earthly nation again).

It was also the kind of Messiah Peter was expecting—which explains his reaction to this prophecy of our Lord about his suffering and death.  Peter says to him, in effect, “No way, Jesus!  That can’t possibly happen to you!  You’re the Messiah—you’re God’s anointed one—you’re gonna help us get rid of the Romans and become a great nation again!  You can’t suffer and die like that.”

Jesus immediately turns on Peter and says, “Get behind me, Satan!”

Why, oh why, did he call Peter, “Satan”?

It’s because at that moment Peter was saying to Jesus exactly what Satan would have wanted him to say to Jesus!  Satan, you see, did not want our Lord to go to the cross on Good Friday, because he knew that if Jesus died on that cross his kingdom would be destroyed—since the sacrifice of Jesus would make it possible for every human person to avoid hell and go to heaven!

This, incidentally, was the constant and most serious temptation that Jesus faced during his time on this earth: the temptation to abandon the mission the Father had given him and forget about the cross.  It was the temptation Satan threw at him in the desert just before his earthly ministry began; it was the temptation that Satan presented to him through the mouth of Peter in this event at Caesarea Philippi; and it was the last temptation our Lord faced as he hung on the cross.  (No, the last temptation of Christ had nothing to do with Mary Magdalene.  Please tell that to film director Martin Scorsese!)

Coming back now, to Peter’s dialogue with Jesus: If you had been in Peter’s shoes that day, what would you have done?  How would you have responded?  Try to imagine this: Jesus, the Messiah, the only-begotten Son of the Father, doesn’t just reprimand you (that would have been bad enough!); he doesn’t simply tell you that you’re wrong—he actually goes so far as to call you “Satan”!

He equates you, in some way, with the devil himself!

I think most people, if they’re truly honest with themselves, would tell you that they would have been so undone—so completely devastated by these words of Jesus—that in all likelihood they would have walked away in despair and never come back.

I know I would have been tempted to respond in that way.

But Peter didn’t!  That’s what’s so amazing about him.

He didn’t throw in the towel; he didn’t despair.  In spite of the horrible feeling he must have had on the inside, he didn’t walk away like the rich young man did when Jesus challenged him to give up all his possessions.

Peter took the rebuke, and persevered.  He kept on following the Lord.

Peter’s perseverance was also evident at the end of the Bread of Life Discourse in John 6: Jesus told the people that he intended to give them his Body and Blood for their spiritual nourishment, and most of them freaked out!  Even a lot of our Lord’s disciples walked away.

But not Peter!  He persevered—as usual.  When Jesus said to his apostles, “Are you going to leave me, too?” Peter immediately responded, “Lord, to whom shall we go?  You have the words of eternal life.  We have come to believe; we are convinced that you are God’s holy one.”

Even on Holy Thursday, after he denied the Lord 3 times, he didn’t give up!  Judas did, but Peter didn’t.  And let’s remember, their sins were both grave: both betrayed their Lord and Savior.  Judas despaired and hung himself, but Peter came back and repented.

He always did.

I mention all this today because there are many times in our lives when we can be tempted to give up on God and our Catholic faith: when a loved one dies suddenly and unexpectedly; when we come down with a serious disease (Parkinson’s, cancer, heart disease—whatever it might be), when we’re praying for something for a long time and God doesn’t seem to be answering; when we find ourselves falling into the same sins over and over and over again.

In situations like these it would be good to say a prayer to St. Peter, asking for his special intercession so that we might receive from God the grace we need: the grace of perseverance—a grace that Peter had in such great abundance.

We need to pray because even persevering people can be tempted at times NOT to persevere!  Such was the case, apparently, even for Peter himself—at least on one occasion.

Some of you have probably heard the story.  It’s not found in the Bible, but in a very ancient Christian tradition.  The event happened during the terrible persecution of the Church under the Roman Emperor Nero.  Peter, of course, was Pope by then—the official leader of God’s New Testament people—but, in the midst of all the violence and confusion, he decided that enough was enough.  So he left the city.  He abandoned his post—and his flock—in fear, and fled from Rome on the famous Appian Way.

But as he was going along he ran into somebody—Jesus—walking in the opposite direction toward the city.  Peter said to him, “Quo vadis, Domine?” (“Where are you going, Lord?”)

Jesus answered, “I’m going to the city of Rome, to be crucified again.”

Peter got the message.  He turned around; he went back; and he courageously led the Church until he was martyred—crucified upside down—in that area now known as St. Peter’s Square.

People who persevere can sometimes be tempted—even strongly tempted—not to persevere.  But in the end, by the grace of God, they remain faithful.

Just like Peter.

Standing Alone for Christ

Leah Darrow

(Twenty-first Sunday of the Year (A): This homily was given on August 21, 2011 at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I. by Fr. Raymond Suriani. Read Matthew 16: 13-20.)

[For the audio version of this homily, click here: Twenty-first Sunday 2011]

Thirty-one-year-old Leah Darrow was the Friday night speaker at this year’s Steubenville East Youth Conference, which was held at URI on the weekend of July 24th. Leah has become a well-known and highly-respected chastity speaker in recent years, but before that her big claim to fame was that she was a contestant on “America’s Next Top Model”. She was on during Cycle 3 of the series, which aired back in 2004.

When she gave her personal testimony during the conference, she said that she grew up on a farm in Oklahoma, the oldest of six children. Her family practiced the faith: they all went to Sunday Mass; they even prayed a Rosary together every evening. However during her teenage years Leah began to drift spiritually. She experienced what she now describes as a “slow fade” away from her Catholic faith: she got a new circle of friends who were not the best influence on her (that happens to a lot of teens—even some teens here in our community), and she eventually embraced a very hedonistic, materialistic, self-centered lifestyle.

In the midst of all this she began to do some modeling, and after she graduated college she decided on a whim to try out for the so-called “reality show,” “America’s Next Top Model.” I say “so-called” because—as Leah said during her testimony—“there’s nothing real about reality TV”! So often, as most of us know, they film scenes of conflict between the contestants on these shows. But, as Leah noted in her talk, most of the time the producers and directors of the programs create the circumstances that contribute to the conflict. (That’s the part they don’t tell you.) For example, Leah said that she and the other contestants had no privacy whatsoever when they were competing. In fact, the producers took all the doors off the hinges in the hotel where they were staying—and that includes the door to the bathroom! Consequently, these young women had men (that is to say, male persons) following them around with cameras 24 hours a day. Literally 24 hours a day! They also didn’t give the contestants enough food or enough rest.

So I ask you: Would you or would you not be a little bit edgy if you were hungry and sleep-deprived and living in a hotel with a bunch of strangers—a hotel in which you had absolutely no privacy and no time for yourself?

The answer should be obvious.

Leah was eventually eliminated from “America’s Next Top Model,” but her appearance on the program opened the doors to a number of big modeling jobs. Of course the interesting thing is that during this part of her life she really wasn’t happy. She had a measure of fame and notoriety, she was making a good bit of money, she had physical relationships with a number of different men—but she had no peace.

Finally it all came to a crisis point during a big photo shoot that she did in New York City for an international magazine. She had been asked to wear a very skimpy, immodest outfit—more revealing than anything she had ever modeled before. She said that she felt “uncomfortable—scared—exposed” and she suddenly came to the realization that she had been squandering the gifts God had given her. She said that she had a “St. Paul moment” in which she imagined herself standing before Almighty God at the end of her life, wearing the outfit she had worn in the photo shoot, with her hands—her cupped hands—out in front of her, as if she was offering what was in them to God. The problem was that her hands were EMPTY, symbolic of the fact that she had nothing good to offer to God, based on the way she had been living her life in recent years: no acts of love, no acts of selfless charity—nothing.

It was a graced moment; and in that graced moment she said (and here I quote): “I knew I had to change—not because I had to, but because I wanted to.”

And so she said to the photographer and the crew, “I can’t do this anymore” (referring not just to the photo shoot, but to the whole lifestyle). They responded with several threats, and several choice words. The photographer said, “If you walk out of here, if you don’t finish this, you will be a nobody. You will never work here again.”

They didn’t realize it, but Leah was happy to hear that! And so, when she got to the door, she turned the handle, looked back and said, “Do you promise? Do you promise that I’ll be a nobody? That’s great. I want to be a nobody to this, because I want to be somebody to Christ.”

And she walked out.

She cried all the way back to her apartment, called her dad immediately and said to him, “Daddy if you don’t come and get me I’m going to lose my soul.”

So her dad came. He got into his car, drove all the way from St. Louis to New York, encouraged his daughter to make a good confession, and then actually took her to church so she could meet with a local priest and receive the sacrament.

The rest, as they say, is history. Leah got her life together, renewed her faith, got reconnected to the Church, and has since become a very effective speaker at conferences like the one our teenagers attended at URI a couple of weeks ago.

She’s now doing some great things for the Lord. But it all started at that decisive moment when she was willing to stand apart and stand alone for Jesus Christ! That’s the key point to remember, and it’s why I shared her story today in this homily. Think about it. If Leah Darrow had not been willing to confront that photographer during that photo shoot and walk out the door, she would still have ‘empty hands’ at the present time, she would still be miserable—more miserable than ever—and her life would be going in a completely different direction.

Leah’s story popped into my mind as I read today’s gospel reading and thought about Peter’s confession of faith. As we heard a few moments ago, at Caesarea Philippi that day Jesus asked his disciples a question—a crucial question—a decisive question: “Who do you say that I am?”

I say this question was crucial and decisive because the answer they gave would determine a lot of things: It would determine their level of loyalty to Jesus; it would determine their willingness to listen to Jesus and obey him; it would determine their willingness to follow Jesus when things got tough.

You see, if they thought that Jesus was just a great teacher or just a great philosopher, they could justify disobeying him or disagreeing with his “opinions” or walking away from him when things got difficult.

But if he was something more—if he was the Messiah who had a special and unique relationship with the heavenly Father—then they couldn’t justify any of those things! They would have to be loyal to Jesus and listen to Jesus and obey Jesus and follow Jesus no matter what!

Well, we all know what happened. Peter stepped forward and boldly declared what he believed. Like Leah Darrow, he stood apart and stood alone for the Lord. He said, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.”

Now perhaps the other apostles—or at least some of the other apostles—were thinking the same thing. Perhaps some of them had the very same belief about Jesus.

But we don’t know that for sure. In fact, I think it’s much more likely that the other 11 did NOT believe what Peter believed—at least not fully. I say that because, according to Matthew, Mark and Luke (the 3 gospel writers who record this event for us), none of the other apostles said anything after Peter made his profession of faith. They were totally and completely silent. Which leads to the obvious question: If they did believe the same thing about Jesus that Peter believed, then why didn’t they speak up immediately after Peter did? Why didn’t they all say, “Yes, Jesus, Peter’s right. We agree. You are the Messiah, the Son of God!”?

Their silence, I think, says a lot.

To his great credit, Peter was not influenced by whatever hesitancy or doubts his fellow apostles were experiencing. He believed Jesus was the Messiah and the Son of God—and he said it!

And his willingness to step out in faith and lead his fellow apostles was still rewarded by our Lord, who made him, in effect, the very first pope: “You are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church, and gates of the netherworld shall not prevail against it.”

Standing up for Jesus Christ and his truth ALWAYS has its reward: sometimes in this life, always in eternity—and sometimes both here and in the hereafter (as was the case for Peter).

For Leah Darrow, the reward is coming as she sees the lives of young people—and not-so-young people—change for the better through the talks she gives in settings like the Steubenville East Youth Conference.

We live right now in a society where anti-Catholicism is rampant. I’m sure that’s not news to anyone here. As someone once said, “Anti-Catholicism is the last respectable prejudice left in America.”

When you face those attacks at work or at school—or even in your own family—do you respond like Peter and Leah Darrow? Or do you remain silent?

That’s the key question of the day for all of us.

To those who of you who do respond in defense of Christ and his Church—to those of you who stand up and affirm your faith like Peter and Leah Darrow—let me give this word of encouragement: When your life is over and all is said and done, you’ll be very glad you did.