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During his general audience on May 24 with 35,000 pilgrims in St. Peter’s Square, Pope Benedict XVI continued his teachings on the apostles. Once again, he focused on St. Peter, emphasizing two other important events in his life: the multiplication of the loaves and fishes, and Peter’s call to be shepherd of the universal Church.

The Holy Father pointed out that the miracle of the loaves and fishes was an occasion to proclaim his gift of the Eucharist to us: “‘The bread that I will give is my flesh for the life of the world.’ Jesus was announcing the cross and, along with the cross, the true multiplication of loaves — the bread of the Eucharist — a way of being king that was absolutely new and that was totally contrary to people’s expectations.”

His teaching was hard to accept. Many of his followers withdrew and went their separate ways. Yet when Jesus asked the 12 apostles if they, too, wanted to leave, Peter spoke on behalf of all the apostles: “He responded with those immortal words that are also our words: ‘Master, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and convinced that you are the Holy One of God’” (John 6:68-69).

Peter’s faith, Pope Benedict XVI emphasized, was authentic and open even though it was incomplete. His faith was not a faith in something, but a faith in someone — in Christ. Nevertheless, Peter was not free of human weaknesses. Later, his enthusiasm gave way to fear and doubt and he, too, betrayed his master. “The school of faith is not some triumphant march, but a journey strewn with sufferings and love and with trials and faithfulness that take place day after day,” the Holy Father pointed out. Having learned his own nothingness, Peter was then ready for his mission.

The Lord entrusted this mission to him after his resurrection. In the dialogue between Peter and Jesus, Pope Benedict XVI pointed out a very significant play on words. The Greek verb fileo expresses the love of a friendship that is tender but not total, while the verb agapao signifies complete, unreserved and unconditional love. Three times Jesus asks Peter if he loves him. The first two times, he uses the verb for unconditional love. “Before the experience of his betrayal, the Apostle Peter would have certainly said: ‘I love you (agapô-se) unconditionally.’ Now that he has experienced the bitter sadness of his unfaithfulness, the tragedy of his own weakness, he says with humility: ‘Lord, I love you (filô-se),’ meaning, ‘I love you with my poor human love,’” the Holy Father noted. Peter knew that the risen Lord was at his side. His long journey in faith, constantly open to the Spirit of Jesus, made him a credible witness who knew the true joy that lies in Christ, the way of salvation.

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

In this series of catecheses, we have been meditating on the Church. We have said that the Church lives in its people and, for this reason, during the last catechesis we began to meditate on the personality of each individual apostle, beginning with St. Peter. We saw two decisive stages in his life: his call on the Sea of Galilee and his profession of faith — “You are the Christ, the Messiah.” His profession, we said, was a beginning and somewhat inadequate yet open. St. Peter was setting out on his journey as a follower. In this way, his initial profession already bore in itself, like a seed, the future faith of the Church. Today we would like to consider two other important events in the life of St. Peter: the multiplication of the loaves — we just heard Our Lord’s question and Peter’s response in the passage that was read — and the Lord’s call to Peter to be shepherd of his universal Church.

Multiplication

Let us begin with the episode of the multiplication of the loaves. You know that the people had been listening to the Lord for hours. “They are tired, they are hungry, and we have to give these people something to eat,” Jesus finally said. “But how?” the apostles asked. Andrew, Peter’s brother, drew Jesus’ attention to a boy who was carrying five loaves and two fish. “But of what use are these for so many people?” the apostles wondered. The Lord had the people sit down and the five loaves and the two fish were distributed. Everyone ate until they were satisfied. Then the Lord asked the apostles, Peter among them, to gather the many fragments that were left over — 12 baskets of bread (see John 6:12-13). Afterwards the people, seeing this miracle that seemed to be the long-awaited renewal of the new “manna,” the gift of bread from heaven, wanted to make Jesus their king. But Jesus refused and withdrew to a mountain to pray alone. The next day, on the other side of the lake in the synagogue of Capernaum, Jesus interpreted the miracle, not along the lines of some kind of kingship over Israel with the power of this world in the way that the crowd expected, but along the lines of the gift of himself: “The bread that I will give is my flesh for the life of the world” (John 6:51). Jesus was announcing the cross and, along with the cross, the true multiplication of loaves —the bread of the Eucharist — a kingship that was absolutely new and that was totally contrary to people’s expectations.

We can understand why these words of the Master — who did not want to carry out a multiplication of loaves every day and who did not want to offer Israel a power of this world — proved to be truly difficult and even unacceptable for the people: “He gives his flesh. What does that mean?” Everything that Jesus said at that time seemed unacceptable even for his disciples. At the time, it was a “hard” saying that put their faith to the test (see John 6:60), and it still is for our hearts and for our mentality. Many of the disciples withdrew from him. They wanted someone who would truly renew the state of Israel and its people, not someone who said, “I give you my flesh.” We can also imagine how difficult Jesus’ words were for Peter, who, at Caesarea Philippi, was opposed to the prophecy of the cross. Yet, when Jesus asked the 12 apostles if they, too, wanted to leave, Peter reacted enthusiastically with a generous heart that was guided by the Holy Spirit. On behalf of all the apostles, he responded with those immortal words that are also our words: “Master, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and convinced that you are the Holy One of God” (see John 6:68-69).

Peter’s Faith

Here, as in Caesarea, Peter initiates the Church’s profession of faith in Christ with these words and becomes a spokesman for the other apostles and those of us who are believers through the ages. This does not mean that he had understood the entire depth of the mystery of Christ at that time. His faith was still a very new faith, a faith in progress. It would come to its true fullness only through the experience of the events of Easter. Nevertheless, it was already faith, a faith that was open to a greater reality, especially because it was not faith in something, but faith in someone — in the one who is the Christ. In this way, our faith is also a faith that is at its beginnings and we still have a long way to go. However, it is essential that it be a faith that is open and that allows Jesus to guide us because he not only knows the way, he is the way.

Nevertheless, Peter’s impetuous generosity does not safeguard him from the risks associated with human weakness that even we can recognize based on our lives. Peter followed Jesus with enthusiasm and withstood the test of faith, abandoning himself to him. Yet the moment came when even he gave in to fear and fell. He betrayed his Master (see Mark 14:66-72). The school of faith is not some triumphant march, but a journey strewn with sufferings and love and with trials and faithfulness that take place day after day. Peter, who had pledged absolute faithfulness, experienced the bitterness and humiliation of denial. An arrogant man learns humility at his own expense. Peter, too, had to learn that he was weak and in need of forgiveness. When the mask finally fell and he understood that he truly had the weak heart of a believer who was still a sinner, he burst out in liberating tears of repentance. After a time of weeping, he was then ready for his mission.

Mission of Love

The risen Jesus entrusted this mission to him on a spring morning. The meeting took place on the shores of the Sea of Tiberias. John the Evangelist relates the dialogue that took place at that time between Jesus and Peter. In it, the play on words is very significant. In Greek the word filéo expresses the love within a friendship that is tender but not total, whereas the word agapáo signifies a love without any reservations that is total and unconditional. The first time, Jesus asks Peter, “Simon do you love me (agapâs-me)?” with this total and unconditional love (see John 21:15). Before the experience of his betrayal, the Apostle Peter would have certainly said: “I love you (agapô-se) unconditionally.” Now that he has experienced the bitter sadness of his unfaithfulness, the tragedy of his own weakness, he says with humility: “Lord, I love you (filô-se),” meaning, “I love you with my poor human love.” Christ insists: “Simon, do you love me with this total love that I want?” Peter repeats the answer of his humble human love: “Kyrie, filô-se, (Lord, I love you as I know how to love).” The third time Jesus only says to Simon: “Fileîs-me (Do you love me)?” Simon understood that for Jesus his poor love — the only love of which he is capable — is sufficient, yet he is saddened that the Lord had to say it to him in this way. It is for this reason that he answers: “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you (filô-se).” It would seem that Jesus adapted himself to Peter, rather than Peter to Jesus! It is precisely this divine adaptation that gives hope to the disciple, who has known the suffering of infidelity. This gives birth to a trust that enables him to follow him to the end: “He said this signifying by what kind of death he would glorify God. And when he had said this, he said to him, ‘Follow me’” (John 21:19).

From that moment on, Peter “followed” the Master with a keen awareness of his own frailty; but this awareness did not discourage him. Indeed, he knew that he could count on the presence of the risen Christ at his side. From his naïve enthusiasm at the outset and through the painful experience of his denial and his tears of conversion, Peter came to entrust himself to the Jesus who adapted himself to his poor capacity to love. By doing so, he also shows us the way, despite all our weaknesses.

We know that Jesus adapts himself to our weaknesses. We follow him with our poor capacity to love and we know that Jesus is good and that he accepts us. It was a long journey for Peter that made him a trustworthy witness, a “rock” of the Church, who was constantly open to the action of the Spirit of Jesus. Peter would present himself as a “witness to the sufferings of Christ and one who has a share in the glory to be revealed” (1 Peter 5:1).

When he wrote these words he was already quite old, having reached the end of his life that he would seal with his martyrdom. At that point, he was able to describe what true joy is and to show where it can be attained. The source is Christ, in whom we believe and whom we love with our weak yet sincere faith, in spite of our frailty. For this reason, he wrote the following words to the Christians of his community, which he also says it to us: “Although you have not seen him you love him; even though you do not now see him now yet you believe in him, you rejoice with indescribable and glorious joy, as you attain the goal of your faith, the salvation of your souls” (1 Peter 1:8-9).

(Register translation)