Illustration by Libby Kercher

On the Solemnity of Saints Peter and Paul, we rejoice in God’s freeing love. Today’s reflection reminds us that Christ frees us from even the strongest chains, and can bring forth fruit in the most unlikely places.

June 29, 2025: Solemnity of Saints Peter and Paul
Acts 12:1–11
Psalm 34:2–9
2 Timothy 4:6–8, 17–18
Matthew 16:13–19

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A Miraculous Escape

A reflection by Carter Fahey

It often seems like there’s immense pressure to make our lives “perfect.” We want to curate the perfect balance of posed and candid photos on social media, be the most likeable (literally, in a world measured by likes), always be right, and to fit in as much as possible. This is a fact of life for everyone–we’re all struggling to find the right balance, no matter how much we try to convince ourselves otherwise.

This balancing act can be especially difficult if you find yourself “in between” two communities, toeing the line between seemingly conflicting groups, trying to exist in the middle of a Venn diagram while everyone around you insists that the sets don’t overlap. It’s like there are chains pulling you in all directions, threatening to tear you apart. You might begin to question yourself: Am I too queer to be a part of a Catholic community? Am I too Catholic to fit into queer spaces? Would it be easier to just choose one?

Sometimes, this begins to feel like imprisonment, but when these obligations and expectations are stifling us, we can look to Christ, Scripture, and the lives of the saints to guide us amidst the tensions in our lives and remind us that a perfectly curated life is not a requirement for holiness. Today, on the Solemnity of Saints Peter and Paul, we look especially to the early Church, and see that these inner and outer conflicts are nothing new.

In examining the first reading, an account of Peter’s detention by King Herod and miraculous escape, our instinct is probably to cast ourselves as the imprisoned Peter, but I’d suggest that we can learn something about ourselves by stepping into the uncomfortable role of Herod, who, upon seeing that the persecution of Christians would increase his popularity and political power, is greedy for more. After persecuting a number of Church members, he imprisons Peter with the hope of appealing to the people with bloodshed. Violence begets violence. One death leads to many, and the community risks destruction. Herod represents an extreme case of the skewed judgement that follows an overattachment to others’ opinions and worldly gain.

This scene is all too familiar to us–one need only turn on the TV or check the papers to see how this mindset is playing out in the modern world. The similarities speak for themselves. But I would suggest that excessive concerns for the approval of others can lead to the same end in our personal lives, albeit less dramatically.

While it might not bring about physical violence and persecution, such a mindset can bring us into a sort of spiritual death, where we’re unable (or perhaps unwilling) to perceive the Spirit at work in our lives or to reconcile God’s will with our own. We surround ourselves with petty worries to shield ourselves from the almost painful light of the Divine, only to wither away as we deny ourselves the light we need to grow in our Christian lives. Absorbed up in our self-image, we have less energy to devote to our neighbors and find ourselves lacking the love needed to help our communities flourish. In the end, these chains may even leave us struggling to recognize the humanity of others.

If we put ourselves in Peter’s place, though, we can see the hope that is offered to us by Christ. Just when we think we are trapped, with impossible obstacles blocking our path on all sides, God will tear down the walls and break the chains that bind us. If, like the imprisoned Peter, we trust in God’s saving help and keep our hearts open to the Spirit’s work–even when it seems to be prompting the impossible–we too may walk free from our captivity cloaked in love. We can be rescued from our own expectations and those of others, rejoicing in our authenticity and knowing that a life centered on Christ will overflow any confines. The chains which bound us and threatened to tear us apart can become a symbol of God’s freedom.

And today, as we celebrate Saints Peter and Paul, we are reminded that God often nurtures good in the most unlikely of places. These two saints, whose flaws are certainly not downplayed in the New Testament, show us that when we find ourselves in seemingly impossible situations, or trying to build bridges with improbable people, God can still bring forth good–even if we don’t think it’s possible. Despite Peter’s denial of Christ, Jesus still loved him entirely and placed the Church in his care. Despite Paul’s persecution of Christians, Jesus chose him to spread the Good News. Despite their famously tense relationship, Peter and Paul’s work allowed Christ’s message to spread, and the early Church to grow. God can bring forth fruit from even the most unlikely vine, and new growth from the most unsuspecting seed.

Whatever ways we find ourselves feeling imprisoned, we can trust that God will help us to know Christ’s freedom and bring good from even the most difficult situations, if only we have patience and faith. We can truly say with Paul: “YHWH stood by me and gave me strength…And I was rescued from the lion’s mouth. God will rescue me from every evil threat and will bring me safe to the heavenly Kingdom. To God be glory forever and ever. Amen.”

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Carter Fahey (he/him) is the Associate Editor of Breath of the Spirit and studied at Oxford. He is a convert and has an interest in doing outreach work to Catholic communities to combat misinformation and create opportunities for community among LGBTQIA+ people.

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