1 PETER
2: 4-9 - A Royal Priesthood
One of the most revolutionary and important passages of the New Testament can be found in the words within St. Paul’s letter to the Galatians, when he said: “There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free person, there is not male and female; for you all are one in Jesus Christ.” For the first time, perhaps in all of human history, equality amongst human beings was promoted and put forward as a viable and sensible way of living. In Christ, we all share equally in the gift he gave us: eternal life. However, on our journey towards being with God in Heaven, we are asked to take upon ourselves certain responsibilities in this life according to our abilities. Equality in Christ is not equality in ability; this equality is best understood as Socrates’ definition of justice in Plato’s Republic - working at that to which an individual is naturally best suited.
When a new monarch is crowned for the United Kingdom, the ceremony is one that contains elements that are centuries old. The most solemn moment is one unseen by the public: behind a screen, the new kings is anointed with oil in a ceremony that is rooted deeply in both the Catholic traditions and history of England, and in the setting apart of Jewish kings in the Old Testament. When this last occurred at the coronation of King Charles, large groups of people lambasted the pomp of the ceremony, but this anointing spoke volumes about the seriousness of the moment. If something is done merely for public display, there is always a question of its sincerity; however, when something solemn and deeply traditional, like his anointing, is done away from the public eye, who or what is this action being done for? Why was the Holy of Holies inaccessible in the Jewish Temple? Why do the Orthodox and Eastern Rites have the consecration of the Eucharist behind a veil? Why, for hundreds of years, were the words of consecration in the Roman Rite said in silence? Each one of these examples indicate humanity doing things away from the public, because it is being done for God, not us. It is an indication of humility, of sincerity, of true and firm belief in the sanctity and licitness of the actions. It’s only natural for us to be curious about what is done away from the public eye, but these things are not for us; they are for God. In the Temple, the High Priest was supposed to emerge from the Holy of Holies on the Day of Atonement indicating to the people that their sins had been atoned for. In the Eastern Rites, the priest emerges from behind the veil with the Eucharist to give it to the congregation. In the Roman Rite, the people come forward to participate in the Eucharist after it has been consecrated by the Priest. A British monarch, like King Charles, is meant to take his office seriously and serve his people as a humble servant placed in his role only by the power of God.
Maybe we want to be the ones who get to hear the secret words, see the hidden images, perform the concealed actions. Maybe, though, we are simply asked to be the one for whom others are saying, seeing, and doing those things. Some of us are called to be priests, some are called to be kings, some are called to be helpers, and some are called to be participants. Whatever vocation we have answered the call to follow, we must remember that we are undertaking our role and position in the Church. We hear in both Paul’s letter to the Galatians and in this passage from the first letter of Peter that the “Royal Priesthood” has been opened up to everyone who believes in Christ and does the work he calls them to do. Whatever vocation you might have, embrace it solemnly and exercise your role in the world as if God is the only one watching.
5: 1-4 - The Chair
Human beings have assigned symbolism to objects since our earliest civilizations. Symbols are inherently sacramental; they give to us a concrete and tangible reflection of something immaterial, just as the Sacraments are visible signs of invisible graces. The symbolism of some objects have stood the test of time because they speak of something unique to human nature. One of the clearest examples of this is a chair, a seat, or a throne. In business, we continue to call leaders and executives “chairmen”. In kingdoms that still exist throughout the world, a royal will ascend to his or her “throne”, not because the throne actively imparts authority, but because it symbolizes the authority of that person. Even in our own government, senators and congressmen have chairs for themselves in the Capitol, denoting position or rank. The symbolism of a chair has lasted such a long time in human culture not merely because of tradition, but because authority is an intrinsic part of human expression.
The same symbolism of chair denotes authority within the Catholic Church. Peter is a unique saint: like Paul, we don’t have a day uniquely celebrating the life of Peter as we do the other Apostles and other saints. Instead, we celebrate Peter and Paul together in the Summer, while emphasizing unique elements of who they are to the Church separately. We instead celebrate the Feast of the Conversion of Saint Paul, because he is representative of the Church being brought to the peripheries of the world. We instead celebrate the Feast of the Chair of Saint Peter, because he exercises a unique authoritative role in the Church given to him directly from Christ. That authority is not just in his title as the “rock” of the Church that Christ came to establish; he was handed over the keys to the kingdom of Heaven. Any Christian well-versed in Scripture should read this story from the Gospel of Matthew and automatically apply it to the story from the book of Isaiah, specifically Isaiah 22:22 - “I will place the key of the House of David on his shoulder; what he opens, no one will shut, what he shuts, no one will open.” Isaiah was speaking of Eliakim, royal steward or prime minister to the king Hezekiah. The office of Peter (symbolized by his Chair) was not just for him, just as the keys of the Kingdom of David were not just for Eliakim; it denoted a role that existed to serve the king as long as he reigned. Our King, Jesus Christ, continues his reign, and therefore, he has instructed the successors of Peter to continue their reign as Prime Minister of his Kingdom on earth in the office of the Papacy.
The Chair of Peter was instituted by Christ, but occupied by human beings. Some have been wonderful, some have been awful, and all have been imperfect. But the authoritative office mattered to Christ because he was human, and he wanted us to take authority seriously because we are human, as well. In another point of the Gospel, he speaks to his followers about the Pharisees occupying the “chair of Moses” - though they are wicked hypocrites, Christ implores his followers to remain obedient to them because of their office of authority. He uses the symbol of the Chair of the most significant man of the Jewish faith (and it must be noted, Moses was not their king). The most significant man of the Catholic faith, Peter, was not our king nor our focus of worship, but someone willing to exercise the authority given to him by Christ the King to serve God in humility and love in his humanity. He tells his fellow priests in this passage from Peter’s first epistle to be examples to their flocks. His Chair is not just a symbol of authority, but authentic love expressed through service and received through obedience. Pray for the Pope, that he may continue the example of Peter as he occupies his Chair.
5: 5-14 - A Roaring Lion
For those Catholics who were born and raised in the Church, many of us can remember the priests we grew up with. These were the men who baptized us, who heard our first confessions, gave us our first Holy Communion, and who we spent every Sunday witnessing up at the altar. In these situations, the priest takes on a uniquely fatherly role; he is someone who even our own fathers would follow, obey, and receive the sacraments from just as we did. Most importantly, these priests were the men who shared with us the practice of the Catholic faith for the first time, which, if we continue to practice into our adulthood, is the greatest gift we can receive. What gives the Catholic Church ultimate authority within Christendom is the fact that we can trace back this fatherly priesthood to the very beginning of Christianity. It all began with our first priest and community father figure, St. Peter.
As the leader of the first Christian community, Peter was a father to many, and those who followed him faithfully accepted his authority in the same way Peter accepted the authority of Christ. One of these figures who we know as a disciple of Peter was a man named Mark. Peter even called him his own son in his first letter. Mark may or may not have been around to witness the public ministry of Christ, but he certainly came to understand Christ’s teachings through Peter. If Mark was only a disciple of Peter and did not witness the life of Christ, then it was Peter who shared with him the details we find in his Gospel. Scholars generally agree that Mark’s Gospel was the first to be written. It is by far the least detailed of the four, but if his discipleship led him to write these words down, then it is the life of Christ according to St. Peter, who would have probably known Christ’s story better than anyone else apart from the Virgin Mary. In this way, Mark exemplifies the Catholics of history: his obedience to Peter gives him a genuine and accurate understanding of Christ’s story and who Christ truly was. Today, Catholics follow the authority of Peter’s successor, the Pope, to understand the past two-thousand years of authentic tradition and scripture and to understand the Truth of Christ and the Church he established.
Saint Mark the Evangelist allows us to remember how important it is for us to appreciate the fathers of our community. Our priests, bishops, and the Pope have been entrusted by the Holy Spirit to guide us properly in the faith. Our own fathers try to emulate their leadership within our homes, the domestic Church. As obedient followers of Christ, we should take after the example of Mark and listen attentively to the words of those who are guiding us to know Christ. In traditional art, Mark is represented by a winged lion, since his Gospel begins with John the Baptist as a roaring voice in the wilderness. Contrasted with Peter’s warning of the devil in this passage from his first epistle, we can see how to properly act: to boast of our own abilities and accomplishments is to be like a roaring lion looking for something to devour. On the other hand, to declare the glory of God is to be a roaring lion like Mark, sharing the Gospel he received through obedience to those who guided him.