St. Peter’s Basilica

Who doesn’t love Peter, right? In Bible study when Chris and I were first married we had to answer a get to know you question of who’s your favorite biblical character besides Jesus. I said Peter, because he often says the wrong thing, he often screws up, but he never stops following Christ. Sometimes he’s remembered for not having enough faith to walk on water to Jesus, but what always amazed me about that story is that he’s the only disciple who stepped out of the boat! The other guys were afraid for their lives even IN the boat, and Peter hops out to be closer to Jesus walking towards them on water (even though the elements scared Peter into sinking). He took the first step the others weren’t willing to take.

Peter tells Jesus he won’t have to die and Jesus strongly rebukes him (“Get behind me, Satan!”). Peter claims he’ll follow Jesus even to death and then denies him and weeps bitterly. Peter speaks with the risen Jesus and is given the opportunity to reaffirm three times his love for Christ and receive forgiveness even after that denial and receive a new charge to care for Jesus’ followers.

All followers of Jesus are changed, and Peter’s transformation is so earnest and so relatable.

Peter screwed up. Peter was forgiven. Peter was changed because of his love for Jesus, and Jesus’ love for him.

His story encourages me because I often feel like I say stupid things and put my foot in my mouth, or under react (denial) or over react (chopping off the servant’s ear when Judas brought the guards to arrest Jesus), or fall asleep on the job (in the garden of gethsemane) or just miss the point (during the transfiguration). And none of his shortcomings mattered because Jesus transformed Peter into something better than his failures.

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

Saturday, we left the Vatican Museums and got gelato before walking around to St. Peter’s Basilica. Two millennia ago, Peter came to Rome to tell people that same good news about Jesus’ transforming love. He was taken outside the city to a hill the Romans called the Vatican and crucified—upside-down, because he said he was unworthy to die the same way Jesus did.

As we walked up the hill towards the basilica on the site where he died I wondered who else walked here. Is this the route Peter walked in his last hours? What was he thinking as he made this trek?

He knew he was walking to his death, and I wonder if he was at peace—he proved himself faithful to the point of death, regardless of how he’d failed Christ the night of his arrest. This man who knew Christ on earth in regular life, in death, and also in resurrection—what did he think about crossing this boundary at the end of life? Was he worried about the work left undone, or eager to see Jesus again? Or both?

Archeological evidence suggests the remains in the tomb of St. Peter beneath the main alter in the basilica belong to a strong, middle-aged man from the first century. A painting hangs nearby over the place where Peter was martyred outside the ancient city. Early Christians came to the site to remember him, and the church grew up from there.

The basilica is enormous. The climb to the top of the dome was claustrophobic as the walls leaned and curved to the side. The view was amazing. The entire thing astonishes.

But what is most astonishing of all is how Jesus’ love changes the world through imperfect, flawed, scrambling, sometimes ridiculous people who follow him. That no matter how badly we’ve messed up, redemption is ahead when we step out of the boat and toward Christ.

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

•