ReflectionsThe theme for this year's reflection will be Moments of Recognition. Within most of us there is a desire, a hunger for meaning, for a deeper spirituality, for more of God. Every so often on our earthly journey, we are gifted with moments of awareness, of recognition where the veil is lifted ever so slightly and we have that ‘aha’ experience that transforms us a little bit more. Sometimes they sneak up on us and catch us unawares. At other times we may be going through a wilderness place, but we emerge at last with the gift. Perhaps the greatest treasures are mined from those dark places where we feel we have made a mess of everything or have suffered acute loss. We would not wish such anguish on anyone, least of all ourselves, but when the worst of the nightmare has passed we can recognize, in retrospect, that we have been drawn more deeply into the heart of God. This year I would like to look with you at some of these moments of recognition, eternity moments, as they occurred in the life of one person in the hope that his experience might gift us with a heightened awareness of what is happening to us as we journey. I have called these reflections ‘Moments of Recognition,’ but I could equally well have called them ‘A Love Story’ because that is really what they are all about.
Whenever we read the four gospels we are able to build up quite a picture in our minds of St. Peter and we have no problem at all identifying with him prior to the resurrection. Most of the time he is Simon the impetuous son of John, at one moment displaying great enthusiasm, at another scepticism and even despair. He has within him great wells of courage and loyalty that prompt him to protestations of undying allegiance and to impromptu actions that his companions can only gape at, but the shadow side of these great gifts leads him into panic, denial and searing regret. He has occasional moments of brilliance and the sort of flashes of divine inspiration that come to us sometimes when we least expect them and carry with them a ring of truth that is deeper and more authentic than any of our private wonderings. For one of these in particular we are especially grateful to this somewhat reluctant disciple. It is his declaration at Caesarea Philippi about who Jesus is. The rejoicing heart of Jesus spills over in a totally generous response. Then, only a short time later, Peter relies solely on his human understanding and desires, gets it wrong and is rebuked. But Jesus knows the Simon in him, he knows his human frailties, his particular Achilles’ heel and he doesn’t give up on him. And beyond everything else what sounds loud and clear throughout the whole gospel story is Simon Peter’s love for Jesus, a love laced through with awe and earthiness that leads him to declare on one of his first encounters, “Oh, Lord, please leave me – I’m too much of a sinner to be around you.” We can be eternally grateful that Jesus didn’t accede to his request but instead replied, “Don’t be afraid! From now on you’ll be fishing for people.”
So far so good! Pre-resurrection Peter we can rest relatively easily with, for the Simon son of John or the Ruth daughter of Tom is everyman, every woman. At some stage, maybe we don’t even remember now when or how, Jesus touched our lives and we began a journey that will last the rest of our days. Sometimes we stay on the road and sometimes we wander off and have to be brought back, but there does come a point when we know that we have crossed the Rubicon, that there is no going back. We have made our declaration about who Jesus is for ourselves and for this world. Jesus, in essence, gives us a new name, a new vision, a new purpose. He calls us, commissions us to fish for people, that they might be liberated into the Kingdom. We, too, alternate between being enthusiastic and sceptical or even despairing. We can show great courage and loyalty, but we, too, have our shadow side, so often characterised by fear and denial, if not in our words, then by our actions or lack of them. We may also have our moments of brilliance and our flashes of divine inspiration. And I would venture to guess that the bottom line for us, as it was for Simon Peter, is that we love Jesus – perhaps with a similar degree of awe and earthiness. “You love him,” says Peter in one of his letters, “even though you have never seen him. Though you do not see him, you trust him, and even now you are happy with a glorious, inexpressible joy.”