The Feast of St. Peter & St. Paul

A lot of people might be wondering what’s so special about the Feast of St Peter and St Paul. It’s an annual celebration of the lives and deaths of Peter and Paul. Commemorating the lives of important Christian saints and martyrs, and particularly one in all the Twelve Apostles, has been an essential aspect of Christian life ever since the first century. The Feast of St Peter and St Paul is of historical importance thanks to the big influence that these two men had on the event of the first Church.

St Peter (Simon Peter) is mainly viewed as the leader of the Twelve Apostles of Jesus Christ. Peter and his brother Andrew were fishermen on the Sea of Galilee, were called by Jesus to be his disciples. As one of the Twelve Apostles, Peter witnessed many of Jesus teachings. He's portrayed within the will as a valiant but weak follower, who despite promising never to betray Jesus, denies him three times before the crucifixion (here are some stories of Peter denying Jesus: Matthew 26:69–74, Mark 14:66–72, Luke 22:55–62). After Jesus' death and resurrection, Peter journeyed to spread the news of the Gospel. He founded the Church in Rome but was later put to death by the order of the Emperor Nero.

St Paul (Saul) was very different compared to Peter. Paul was a faithful Jew and Pharisee from the town of Tarsus who was a good persecutor of Christians within the first years of the Church. However, he received a dramatic change experience on the road to Damascus and was later baptised as a Christian. Paul travelled across the world preaching to Jews and Gentiles about the Gospel of Jesus Christ. His influence on the early church was remarkable and the majority of his writings are in the New Testament. Paul was later on executed in Rome during the rule of Emperor Nero. 

The Feast Day of St Peter and St Paul commemorates these two men of the early Church, who shared much of their ministry together in Rome.

A Collection of Voices: Thy Kingdom Come

Last week, as I read and meditated on 2 Peter Chapter 3, in which it discusses the Day of the Lord, I couldn’t help myself from feeling a deep aching for Christ, a deeper intimacy with Him – “But grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. To him be glory both now and forever! Amen” (verse 18).

This aching for Christ comes from my brokenness, and also from seeing all the suffering in the world, because, in Him, I find rest, peace, and truth. 

Yet in this moment of searching for peace in Christ, I am convicted that I am to encouraged to be that vessel, to reach those (oppressed or oppressor) around me with love and grace. 

These last several weeks have proven that this world is fallen and in need of compassion.

Generations of racial tension continue to unfold in this “progressive” time – only to dismantle feelings and prejudices against one another based on skin color. This is not simply a black/white issue. It is very prevalent in our own culture, where individuals look at others and make judgments based on outer appearances. 

As Christians, our second greatest command is to “Love your neighbor as yourself” (Mark 12: 31, NIV). To truly love your neighbor as you do yourself instructs seeing that person as you would yourself – holding up a mirror to their face. And in that process, when you see yourself, ask the question – do I see Christ in me? This question comes from two thoughts:

1) We are all created in the likeness and image of God, “So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them…” (Genesis 1:27, NIV) 

2) Christ lives in each of us “I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me” (Galations 2:20, NIV). 

When we remember that every individual around us is a child of God, and that we have Christ living in us – we are reminded that we are now vessels of His love and grace. 

With that spirit of Jesus in each of us, there arises a conviction regarding the injustices in this world. 

Jesus, too, felt. 

The passage of Lazarus has the verse - “Jesus wept” (John 11:35, NIV). One might ask, why did Jesus weep? Jesus had a deep compassion for suffering. Even though he looked forward to the joy that would ultimately come, he sympathized with suffering and oppression. 

Although there are numerous scriptures that condemn injustice and oppression, one that speaks to me is Isaiah 58:6 “Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen: to loose the chains of injustice and untie the cords of the yoke, to set the oppressed free and break every yoke?” (NIV).  

We, as members of Christ’s body, have been set apart, to make a difference, by being his messengers, to embody and spread His love. This may require us to come out of our comfort zones. This will call us to be comfortably uncomfortable. I pray that we can break down any barriers between us – be it differences in color, language, race, and/or gender. 

This call to action may look different for each of us. 

Here are some tips I will share by Pastor Michael Todd, Transformation Church – take the RISK. 

[R]elationship:  Create relationships outside your comfort zone – with people who do not look like us, or do not have our background. It’s in relationships that we find out how much we are the same. It shouldn’t be about what we can get out of it, but what we can give to it. 

[I]ntentional: Racial reconciliation is not going to happen by accident. Be Intentional. Have a conversation with your families. Find things that can help you understand what people are going through at every side of the globe. Be intentional and care, deeply care for people that do not look like you. 

[S]tart at home, then [s]peak up: If you see injustice happening - SPEAK UP. There are people who can’t speak for themselves. Let us be a voice for our community.

[K]nowledge: Be educated. Our lives are all different because of different upbringings/generations of experiences. With that knowledge, hopefully we get the wisdom to go forward and make the changes to help our society and nation, at large. 

And as I pray and yearn to one day see Heaven, where “there before me was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and before the Lamb” (Rev 7:9, NIV), I invite you all to bring Heaven to Earth with me. When we pray the Lord’s prayer, we beseech “Thy Kingdom Come.” He is calling us all to live a life that displays Heaven on Earth by the renewing of our minds and transformation of our hearts.

As the injustices of the world continue, be confident in the hope of Jesus, and in the world to come. I am convinced that this is all part of His plan, so that more people will come to know Jesus – “To him be glory both now and forever!” (2 Peter 3:18, NIV). 

A Collection of Voices: Love at the Center

The last 3 weeks have been a whirlwind of emotions; of rage, confusion, hurt, sadness, but also inspiration. A tragedy happened in our country on May 25, 2020 when George Floyd was murdered and there is no way to justify it. I don’t even know if I can use the word tragedy to describe it. Is it still a tragedy after it’s been repeated over and over again, and somehow nothing has changed? People always talk about how amazing it is to see how people come together after a tragedy, but I have never felt such a divide in my country.

For 8 minutes and 46 seconds, the living breath was forced out of a man, by weapon of a knee. I just decided to see how long I could hold my breath, |46 seconds|, and I was left gasping for air. But for 526 seconds, George Floyd’s face was pressed against the pavement, as he cried aloud to his late mother to save him.  

As I watched the video on my screen, I nearly couldn’t finish it because I already knew how it would end. And I was enraged. Confused at how this was allowed to happen, again, especially at the hands of those who are charged with the duty to protect and serve. I was hurt because the value of a life, a Black life, was made out to be nothing. But I do not and will not stand for that, because Black Lives Matter.

But I was also inspired. Because while there may be such a divide in our country, there is also unity happening among people of all races, colors, religions, genders and orientations, not just here, but all over the world. The world has responded to the call that when one of us has been hurt, then we are all hurt and I believe that this is centered in love. Love is fighting for the freedom of a person you do not know. Love is not judging someone because of how they look but accepting that we are all God’s children. Love is not being afraid of what other people may think when what you know in your heart is true. Love is not just an emotion, it is an action.

1 John 4 has a whole 15 verses to explain how God is love and thus, how His love is within us. As Christians and as a cultural Church community, sometimes we forget this. But as I look out onto the world, I am reminded by every sign and every shout for justice that love is at the center. So if God is love and love is at the center out there on the streets, then I’m forced to reflect whether God is at the center of our community? Is love at the center? Not just love for our own people but love for all of our brothers and sisters? It’s a question to ask ourselves, not just now or in the midst of this tragedy, but all the time.

No one has ever seen God; if we love one another, God abides in us and his love is perfected in us.

1 John 4: 12, RSV

During this moment in history, I’ve had to look within myself and figure out what I wanted to do, and I don’t have just one answer. But I do know that when I look back on my life, I want to be able to say that I held myself accountable to fight for the lives of my Black brothers and sisters. I want to be able to say that I was not afraid to stand up for justice. I want to be able to say that I put love at the center.

Good Friday Thoughts During the Pandemic

Good Friday service is usually one of the most bittersweet and memorable liturgies of the year. This year, though, because of stay-at-home orders, we all experienced it through a phone line, rather than over the course of 6 hours inside our church. It reminded me, once again, how deeply sensory our experience of communal worship is.

Today, I missed feeling the church carpet, stained with wax from candles we didn’t take good enough care of, beneath our knees and knuckles as we do prostrations, usually bumping into the legs of the people near us on our way back up.

I missed hearing the chorus of earnest—mostly elder, female—voices during the funeral songs, which, I'm sure, God waits for just as earnestly each year.

I missed smelling the incense from the censor, which then permeates every fabric for days to come because of how many hours we burn it today.

I missed tasting the bittergourd-grapefruit concoction the uncles make each year, passed around at the end of service for us to partake in the bitter drink given to Jesus on the Cross.

I missed seeing the Cross, clothed in black for the last three weeks, draped in white today at the burial, laid near the altar for us to kiss, and leave, until Sunday.