In February of next year, I will be leading a pilgrimage to the Holy Land. You are invited.
A pilgrimage is a very blessed time and a special opportunity of grace. When I went to the Holy Land in 2020, I was able to visit Caesarea Philippi, the northernmost city of Jesus' public ministry, and I was able to go to where this morning's Gospel takes place. In that spot, Peter would have seen two things.
First, he would have seen the headwaters of the Jordan River. Snowmelt from Mount Hebron and the mountains to the north flow southward thru Caesarea and, at the spot where Jesus asks for Peter's confession, the waters are a flowing stream with little waterfalls. It is a beautiful spot -- and spiritual place, too, given that these are the origins of waters where Jesus would be baptized.
The second thing that Peter would have seen was a large, dark cave. For the pagan peoples, this cave was believed to be the doorway to hell -- to Hades. As Jesus says the words, "And the gates of the netherworld will not prevail," He would have literally been able to point to that cave. It was also the place where hedonistic rituals were held in honor of Pan.
The contrast would have been striking. The waters of mercy on the right; the darkness of evil on the left.
It is here that Jesus asks Peter: "Who do you say that I am?"
When Peter responds, "You are the Christ!" Jesus praises Peter's confession and rewards him with "the keys to the kingdom of heaven." And Jesus tells him: "Whatever you bind [that is, lock] on earth, is bound in heaven. And whatever you loose [unlock] on earth, is unlocked in heaven."
The gift is unusual. (Who gives someone keys as a reward?) But there is a history to this gift. In the Old Testament, the King of Israel would possess a key on a neck-chain. When the King would depart from his kingdom, whether on a military campaign or to advance trade relations, etc, he would give the key to the steward, the second in command. That steward, then, would possess all of the rights and responsibilities in the kingdom that the King had. While the King was away, the steward could open the kingdom's treasuries of gold or of grain; he could set weights and measures; he could lock or unlock cities. The steward was not the King, but he was endowed with the King's powers. Lest that power go to the steward's head, when the King returned, the steward would need to give an account of the stewardship.
So, when Jesus, the King of Kings, gives Peter the keys to the kingdom of heaven, Jesus is raising Peter to the second-in-command. Later on, the King will depart this earth at the ascension; Peter will then be the one in command, with the powers of the King, until Jesus returns on the Last Day.
Part of those powers, to bind and to loose, means that Jesus has given Peter power to forgive sins (for what else can Jesus' words mean when He says, "whatever you bind on earth is bound in heaven; whatever you loose on earth is loosed in heaven"?).
Here, we arrive at a question I often receive from my Protestant brothers and sisters -- and even from some Catholics: "Why must I confess my sins to a priest ... to a man?"
The answer is found by asking another question: "Did God need Noah in order to save Noah's family from the flood?"
Did God need Noah?
Of course not. God is all-powerful. God could have built an ark Himself. He didn't need Noah.
And yet, He employs the help of Noah.
We can also ask: Did God need Moses in order to save Israel, to convince Pharaoh, to part the Red Sea and so on? Of course not. God could have done it on His own.
And yet, He employs the help of Moses.
Did God need David ... or the prophets ... in order to lead Israel, to pre-announce the coming Messiah, to exhort people to repentance and "making straight the ways of the Lord"? Of course not! God could have said all of this from the clouds -- as He does elsewhere -- and He could have ruled from the heavens. He didn't need David or any of the Kings or any of the prophets.
In fact, many of those kings got in the way!
And yet....
And yet God uses these men to rule Israel and to announce the coming Kingdom.
Even the Apostles and Peter -- Jesus doesn't need them. He could have done it all Himself. Held the keys Himself.
And yet ... He gives the keys to Peter -- Peter who is not the holiest man around, Peter who sticks his foot in his mouth, Peter who "thinks like men and not like God."
So, why? Why does Jesus do this? Why does He employ as confessors men in need of confession?
The second reading:
Oh, the depth of riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How inscrutable are his judgments and how unsearchable his ways! For who has known the mind of the Lord...?
For me, I have found it fitting that God employs men to forgive sins. And here is why: when we sin, we sin not only against God, but also against men.
When you are driving down I-55 and someone cuts you off and you then decide to pull along side that son-of-a-gun and give them a one-fingered salute -- you may feel better for a moment. But maybe they cut you off by accident; maybe their child just threw up in the car. And now you have just further ruined their day. And you may feel bad about that. And you keep driving and may never see them again.
How are you going to be reconciled not only to that person, but to all of the effects that your action has on humanity, like that ripple in a lake after a stone has been thrown? Who will be the representative for humanity?
It is the priest.
By definition, the priest stands in the breach as the representative of God to men and as the representative of men to God -- and sometimes of men to men. When the priest absolves you, he "looses" you from what you owe God; but he also looses what you have owed humanity.
At the heart of this is the Incarnational Principle: that God became man and dwelt among us. And that God still uses men to deliver His divine mercy.
Even though those men, like the kings of the Old Testament, are often themselves in need of confession.
In fact, it's because I have needed confession throughout my life that I can say to you, When you come to confession, and you tell me, "Father, it's been a long time" or "Father, shoot, I got some really bad ones today" and you feel ashamed and embarrassed -- I tell you, I've been there. I've been on the other side of the screen, hoping for mercy.
And so when you come to confession, know that you won't get judgment from me. You'll get admiration -- because I know it takes courage to confession to God and to a man.
It's also why the confessional is one of the most miraculous and amazing places for me -- to see someone come in feeling so ashamed, so enslaved by so great a weight ... and to see those chains fall off as they confess, to feel free again, and to have that new start, being right with God and men again ... it's why I was ordained. And it is truly awesome.
Many Protestants, when they become Catholic, say that the Sacrament of Reconciliation (confession) is the best kept secret and the greatest treasure of Catholicism. "More people need to know about this!" they say to me.
There's one more thing.
Jesus asked Peter -- Peter, who would become a priest and hear people's confessions -- Jesus asked Peter, a confessor, for his confession: "Who do you say that I am?"
As for me, I find that when we go to confession, we are giving answer to that question.
Lord, you are the Son of God. Your wisdom is deep. Your mind inscrutable. You have given the keys of mercy to the lowest of sinners. And I find that profound. Truly, your ways are not my ways. But you are God. And I am not. ... What a gift to be able to unlock mercy in your most holy Name!
In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
