Today we celebrate the feast of Saints Peter and Paul. For me, this day carries a personal resonance, it marks the 29th anniversary of my ordination to the diaconate. I was just 27, kneeling in Blackburn Cathedral as Bishop Alan Chesters laid his hands on my head. I remember the moment vividly, the solemnity, the ancient words, and above all the nerves. It was the beginning of a journey I could never have mapped out. I didn’t know then that I would serve as a hospital chaplain, a ministry often exercised amid difficult circumstance... It’s taught me that grace and the presence of Christ repeatedly shows up in the unexpected, in silence, amid suffering, and alongside those in need. 

Isn’t that true of the Christian life? If we ask ourselves whether we are where we thought we’d be 20 or 30 years ago, most of us would say no. Life unfolds with twists and turns we never planned. And yet, in hindsight, we often see the Spirit at work, quietly guiding, forming, and calling us in ways we never imagined. Peter and Paul are examples of this truth. Neither had a straightforward path. Peter was impulsive, often stumbling. Paul began as a persecutor. But both were called, forgiven, and transformed. God used their weaknesses, not just their strengths.

In the Gospel today, Jesus asks a question that lies at the heart of the Christian journey: “Who do you say that I am?” It’s not simply a test of theology. It’s a question of relationship. Not what others say, but what we say, from the depths of our being.

Peter replies, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” It’s a moment of revelation. Jesus says, “Flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father in heaven.” This is the beginning of Peter’s transformation, from fisherman to rock. And yet, Peter’s story isn’t neat and tidy. He will deny Christ, be broken, and then be restored. He becomes a leader not through strength, but through mercy received. I think that’s one of the reasons this Gospel has always spoken to Christian men and women. It doesn’t give us heroes on pedestals, it gives us real people, redeemed by grace.

It reminds me of the popular TV programme Who Do You Think You Are? where celebrities trace their family history and discover something of themselves in those who came before. They often complete the programme changed people not just by new facts, but with insight. Their identity is deepened, reframed.

In the same way, faith invites us into a larger story. We’re not Christians in isolation. We stand in continuity with those who came before, apostles, saints, generations of believers. We’re shaped not only by our individual path, but by the story of the Church. Peter, who fell and was forgiven. Paul, who was blinded yet he could see. Their lives echo in the everyday experience of our own. Through baptism, we are grafted into that apostolic life. At confirmation, the same Spirit that came upon the apostles is sealed in us. These sacraments aren’t rituals from the past they are living connections to the grace Christ entrusted to His Church.

Rowan Williams said, “Faith is not about knowing everything, but about being known, and trusting the One who knows us fully.” That trust is the heart of vocation. Whether priest or parent, carer or friend, all of us are called to answer Christ’s question, “Who do you say that I am?” Often, that answer emerges in hardship, in illness, disappointment, grief, or love. The same Spirit that opened Peter’s lips is present in us too, prompting our own leap of faith.

So how do we live this apostolic faith today? Not usually in grand gestures, but in quiet faithfulness. In prayer even when it’s dry. In keeping promises. In loving when it’s hard. In forgiving when it’s costly. These are the building blocks of faith amid everyday life. The Church’s continuity is not merely institutional, it is sacramental. The laying on of hands at ordination, the anointing at confirmation, all trace their lineage to those moments when Christ entrusted the keys of the kingdom to his apostle Peter. As a student in my early 20’s I got to visit the destine Chapel, it was an emotional and moving experience. On one of the walls within this famous Chapel there is a painting of Saint Peter depicted receiving the keys to the kingdom, the artwork is titled, Delivery of the Keys, Peter looks overwhelmed. The keys are oversized, symbolic of the weight of the task. And yet he receives them, not by his own strength.

We too are entrusted with something holy, and like Peter and Paul, we don’t always feel ready. But we discover God makes us ready along the way. Pope Leo the Great once said… in the one Peter, we are all given the name of rock. Today’s feast doesn’t only honour two towering saints. It celebrates the Church, it celebrates our faith, it calls us again, to hear that question: “Who do you say that I am?”

So today, whether we feel strong or fragile, whether we’ve walked a straight path or wandered through unexpected turns, let us just be still before Christ. Let us hear his voice. And let us answer with all the faith we have, however small, however faltering: “You are the Christ. The Son of the living God.” And let that response become the rock upon which our lives are built.