True Faith

27th Sunday in Ordinary Time [C]

October 5, 2025

Luke 17:5-10

Faith is a powerful act. Our Lord teaches that with faith even as small as a mustard seed, we could command a mulberry tree to be uprooted and planted in the sea. Yet, He also reminds us that faith alone is not enough. It must be accompanied by another essential virtue. What is that?

In simple terms, faith is an act of trust in God and in His Son, Jesus Christ. Throughout history, believers have experienced its tremendous, miraculous power. Through faith in Jesus, many find healing—both physical and psychological—even from incurable diseases. Through faith, countless people have life-transforming experiences, discovering profound meaning and joy. Through faith, many receive spiritual gifts, including extraordinary ones like healing and prophecy.

Despite this earth-shaking power, our Lord reminds us that we are ultimately God’s “servants.” Faith does not make us masters; it opens our eyes to the truth of our identity. If we believe in an almighty Creator, then we are His creatures. An unbridgeable gap exists between us: God is everything, and we are nothing. And yet, He loves us so immensely that He gave His only Son to save us and bring us into communion with Himself. This realization, driven by faith, leads us directly to humility.

The word “humility” comes from the Latin humus, meaning “soil” or “ground.” It is the realization that we are nothing and undeserving—we are, in a sense, “dirt.” Yet, God loves us unconditionally. Humility places faith in its proper context, reminding us that even our faith is a gift from God.

In fact, faith without humility is dangerous. Satan and the evil spirits have a kind of “faith”—they know with certainty that God exists and that they owe their power to Him. But without humility, they refuse to obey and serve. Ultimately, they fall.

Without humility, we risk self-deception. We might think our “great faith” makes us superior to others. While the gifts of faith are real, they can trap us into pride. Without humility, we may also treat faith as a bargaining chip, believing that if we have enough, we can control God to get what we want.

With humility, however, faith truly saves. We receive baptism from the Church and this act of humility means recognizing salvation as a gratuitous, unmerited God’s gift. We receive Holy Communion from the priest’s hand, and this act of humility means acknowledging that we need God to feed our hungry, weak souls. We Confess to God’s representative, and this act of humility means accepting that however broken we are, God still loves us and wants to heal us. Humility allows our faith to move us to love God deeply, as we fully recognize the abundance of His love for us.

Rome
Valentinus Bayuhadi Ruseno, OP


Guide Questions

  1. How do we understand faith? Is it a belief in the truth about God? An emotional attachment? Or a commitment to live according to His will?
  2. How do we understand humility? Is it simply a lack of self-confidence? Or is it the profound realization of God’s immense love for us, even in our smallness?

The Nameless Rich Man

26th Sunday in Ordinary Time [C]

September 28, 2025

Luke 16:19-31

The story of Lazarus and the Rich man does not only have a lot of lessons we can learn and imitate, but it also reveals the truth about our salvation. What are those?

1. The Plot Twist

The story of Lazarus and the rich man demonstrate Jesus’ wisdom as both a storyteller and a teacher. Most would assume the rich man is the protagonist, as his material wealth was seen as a sign of God’s favour. Conversely, Lazarus, in his poverty and sickness, would be viewed as a loser, suffering from divine disfavour. Yet, Jesus delivers a shocking twist that challenged his original Jewish audience and continues to challenge us today. In the end, the rich man, despite his extreme wealth, cannot save himself, while Lazarus, the poor man, receives God’s mercy and rests in the bosom of Abraham.

2. Not Just About Wealth

However, a deeper look reveals that Jesus is not simply condemning the rich and glorifying the poor. The rich man loses his salvation not merely because of his wealth, which can be a blessing from God when used as a means to an end. The core of his failure is his selfishness. He is depicted wearing expensive purple garments and feasting sumptuously every night, yet he chooses to ignore the desperately poor man at his gate. Despite having more than enough capacity to help, he closes his eyes, focusing only on his own pleasure.

Similarly, poverty alone does not automatically grant Lazarus a place with Abraham. The poor are also susceptible to sin, such as stealing or manipulation. Yet, Lazarus is described as one who “gladly” received the scraps from the rich man’s table. He refused to use his poverty as an excuse for sin, instead choosing gratitude for the little he had.

3. The Nameless Rich Man

Among the story’s three major characters, only one is left nameless: the rich man. Abraham, whose name means “father of many nations,” receives Lazarus, whose name is a Latinized form of the Hebrew “Eliazer,” meaning “My God is my helper.” This small detail is significant, illustrating a profound truth: we become what we love.

The rich man loved his wealth so dearly that he lost his unique identity, becoming known simply by his material status. He defined himself by his luxurious garments and lavish lifestyle. In contrast, Lazarus and Abraham loved God. The more they loved Him, the more they reflected His image, allowing their authentic, God-given identities to shine. Lazarus lived as one dependent on God’s help, and Abraham as a father to many nations. The more we love earthly things, we are absorbed into them, and gradually losing ourselves, yet the more we love God, the more we become like God, and we become more authentic.

Lourdes, France

Valentinus Bayuhadi Ruseno, OP

Guide questions:

Do we love God more than anything? What are things that prevent us from loving God? What are God-given missions in this life? Do we care for our unfortunate brothers and sisters around us?

The Cross that Heals

Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross

September 14, 2025

John 3:13-17

The cross is a universal symbol of Christianity. People wear it as jewelry, like necklaces, rings, and earrings, either as a sign of devotion or simply as fashion. Churches and other Christian buildings are often crowned with its shape. Yet, despite its familiarity, the profound history and meaning of the cross can often be overlooked.

Historically, the cross was not a sacred symbol but a tool of terror. Crucifixion was a Roman method of execution designed for criminals and rebels. The condemned person was stripped naked, nailed to a wooden beam, and left to die a slow, public death exposed to the elements and humiliation. It was the ultimate symbol of human cruelty. This is the torture Jesus endured.

Yet, Jesus did not escape His cross. He embraced it. Through His resurrection, He transformed the cross from an instrument of torture into an instrument of God’s mercy and healing. In the Gospel, Jesus Himself draws a typological connection between His cross and the bronze serpent raised by Moses. Just as those who looked at the bronze serpent were healed, all who look to Jesus’ cross with faith will be saved.

This leads to the essential question: how does the cross heal us?

First, it heals through love. When we look at the cross, we see the ultimate proof of God’s love: He sent His only Son to offer Himself as a sacrifice to reconcile us to Himself. As St. Paul writes, “But God proves his love for us in that while we still were sinners Christ died for us” (Rom 5:8). We receive this healing from sin primarily through Baptism and the Sacrament of Reconciliation. Every sin wounds our soul and separates us from God; the cross stands as a permanent call to repent and return to Him.

Second, it heals through God’s presence. The cross shows us that God is not a distant deity, remote from our pain. He chose to become one of us, to share in our human experience with all its suffering. On the cross, Jesus embraced the worst of human agony, demonstrating that when we unite our sufferings with His, our own crosses can be transformed. They can become a divine means of healing and grace.

When suffering hits us, it is easy to complain and despair. But the cross reminds us we are not alone. Just as Jesus used His suffering to become a blessing for the world, we too can offer our own pains to God and become a source of strength and compassion for others.

St. Francis of Assisi once sought glory as a knight. After being captured in battle and becoming seriously ill, he recovered physically but still felt a spiritual emptiness. Everything changed while he was praying in a broken-down chapel. He had a vision of Jesus on the cross, who said to him, “Francis, go and repair my house, which is falling into ruin.” This moment gave Francis the true healing he needed, helping him discover who he was and what he was meant to do, to be God’s instrument of peace and healings.

Valentinus Bayuhadi Ruseno, OP

Guide questions:

What are our crosses in our lives? How do Jesus’ cross heal us? How? Do we become the means of God’s healing for others also? How?

To Hate and To Love

23rd Sunday in Ordinary Time [C]

September 7, 2025

Luke 14:25-33

We now encounter one of Jesus’ most challenging statements: He demands that we “hate” our parents, siblings, and even our own children. How are we to understand this hard saying?

To find the answer, we must consider three key elements: Jesus’ full statement, the meaning of the word “hate,” and the broader context of Jesus’ life and mission.

  1. The Full Statement
    First, we need to read the entire sentence. Jesus said, “If anyone comes to me without hating his father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple.” This is not a general command for everyone, but a specific condition addressed to those who wish to become His true followers.
  • The Biblical Meaning of “Hate”
    The word “hate” here (from the Greek μισέω – miseo) does not imply a feeling of strong aversion or enmity. In the Bible, this word often carries a comparative meaning: “to love less” or “to disfavor” in order to show preferential treatment to something else (see Genesis 29:31, Deuteronomy 21:15-16, Luke 16:13). In this context, Jesus is demanding that His followers make Him their absolute top priority. He is not asking us to detest our families, but to love Him so much that all other loves—even for our own lives—seem like hatred by comparison. A simpler way to phrase it is: Unless we love Jesus more than everything and everyone else, we cannot be His disciples.
  • The Broader Context
    Finally, we must remember that Jesus was speaking as He walked toward Jerusalem, where He would face His Passion and death on the cross. To follow Him meant to share in His suffering. This is only possible if a disciple prioritizes Jesus above all else. We see this exemplified in figures like Mary, His mother, who refused to hide but stood firmly at the foot of the cross, sharing in His agony. Other disciples, like John and Mary Magdalene, also followed Him to the very end, demonstrating this ultimate priority.


This teaching remains true for us today. To follow Jesus to the end requires loving Him above all. While not everyone is called to physical martyrdom like St. Ignatius of Antioch who was fed to the lions or St. Francis de Capillas was tortured and killed when he preached Jesus in China, every disciple is called to make Jesus the central priority of their life.

This doesn’t mean we must pray every second of the day. Instead, it means making daily decisions that reflect our love for Jesus and our desire to please God. This can be as simple as: Choosing to avoid sin and vice; Refusing to be a stumbling block for others; Prioritizing Sunday Mass, even while on vacation; Gently inviting family members to know Jesus more.

Loving Jesus is a conscious, daily decision to choose what strengthens our holiness and deepens our relationship with Him.

Surabaya

Valentinus Bayuhadi Ruseno, OP

Reflection Questions:

How do I concretely show my love for Jesus in my daily routine? Do my actions and words encourage others to love Jesus? Could my behavior be making it difficult for someone else to approach Jesus?

Honor and Holiness

22nd Sunday in Ordinary Time [C]

August 31, 2025

Luke 14:1,7-14

Honor is a fundamental concept that defines our humanity. It guides our behaviors and conduct, and in extreme cases, can compel people to die or even kill others.

Defining “honor” is challenging because it is deeply embedded in both our individual and communal identities. It refers to the ideals that we as humans, holds dear, such as loyalty, bravery, honesty, hardworking and moral integrity. While these values may vary across cultures, some are universally acknowledged and admired. Honor is earned when others recognize our efforts to achieve these difficult ideals. For example, a student may be honored with a medal for their hard-earned academic achievements.

The pursuit of honor is, therefore, a pursuit of our highest ideals, a striving for greatness that makes us more fully human. Conversely, dishonor signifies a failure to uphold these values. We are dishonored when we betray someone, whom we pledge our loyalty or cowardly avoid difficulty. Some societies value honor so deeply that they see a dishonorable life, like one of dishonesty, unfaithfulness, and cowardice, as worse than an animal’s existence. During World War II, many Japanese soldiers and civilians chose suicide over the shame of capture or coming home in defeat.

As our Lord, Jesus understood that honor is fundamental to humanity. Yet, He also recognized how sin can corrupt and twist it. In the Gospel, Jesus criticized those who sought places of honor without striving for the ideals they represent. Jesus taught that the true value of a seat at the banquet is not its prominence, but the virtuous life of the person sitting in it. More importantly, He called us to pursue true ideals and reject corrupt values, introducing humility as a virtue that earns genuine honor.

Jesus’ criticism of the Pharisees is timeless and profoundly relevant today. In postmodern societies, we often replace “the seat of honor” with superficial markers like clothing, cars, and bank accounts. While possessions are not inherently bad, they become harmful when we treat them as our standard of honor, and in the process, we sacrifice true ideals like honesty and loyalty to gain them. Spousal fidelity was once highly honored, but now some cultures praise promiscuity. We once lauded hard work, but now often celebrate only results, even if achieved through deceit.  To follow Jesus is to continually examine our ideals. It means rejecting those that do not lead to human flourishing and embracing those that foster genuine growth. Jesus, our Lord, wants nothing but our holistic growth as humans that eventually brings us into the fullness of human life and holiness.


Guide Questions:

What ideals do we strive for? Are they conducive to our development as humans? Do we feel shame when we fail to achieve our ideals or when we sin? Do we teach our children what it means to have a true sense of honor?

What is Faith?

19th Sunday in Ordinary Time

August 10, 2025

Hebrew 11:1-2, 8-19

The author of the Letter to the Hebrews gives us a profound definition of faith: “Now faith is the foundation of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen” (Hebrews 11:1-2). But what does this truly mean?

Faith as a Firm Foundation

The Greek word used for “foundation” is ὑπόστασις (hupostasis), which literally means “that which stands underneath.” This tells us that faith is not a fleeting emotion or a momentary burst of belief. It is not something can instantly be produced through loud music or strong screams. Instead, it is a steady, unshakable confidence in God’s promises. Faith anchors us, giving substance to what we hope for even when we cannot yet see it.

Faith as Convincing Evidence

The author also describes faith as ἔλεγχος (elengkos), a term often used in legal contexts to refer to irrefutable proof. In a courtroom, verified evidence determines guilt or innocence. Similarly, faith serves as undeniable confirmation of spiritual realities we cannot perceive with our physical senses, our eyes, our ears, and our mouth. Though unseen, these realities are just as real because faith testifies to their truth.

Where Does Such Faith Come From?

But how can faith be so strong? How can it serve as both foundation and evidence? The answer lies in its source: faith does not originate from within us but from God’s faithfulness. The promises we hope for are not human wishes but divine guarantees. Since God is trustworthy, our faith rests on His unchanging commitment to fulfil His promises

Then, how do we know God is truly faithful? History proves it. The Old Testament is filled with stories of God keeping His word, and Hebrews highlights Abraham as a key example. At seventy-five, Abraham obeyed God’s call to leave his comfortable homeland for an unknown future and uncharted land. Despite his old age and Sarah’s barrenness, he believed God’s promise of descendants as numerous as the stars. Even when tested with the unthinkable, sacrificing his son Isaac, Abraham trusted God’s faithfulness that everything would turn just right. He died without seeing the full fulfilment, yet God’s promises came to pass.

The Ultimate Fulfilment in Christ

Hebrews shows us that God’s faithfulness, demonstrated through generations, culminates in Jesus Christ. He is the final and fullest expression of God’s promises. He was born like us humans, suffered and died for us, and resurrected. Our faith, therefore, is not only built on emotions or human reasoning but on historical acts of God, proven in the lives of believers before us and sealed in Christ. Faith is more than simple belief. It is trust in the One who has never failed. And because God is faithful, we can stand firm, even when the path ahead is unseen.

Valentinus Bayuhadi Ruseno, OP

Reflection Questions

  • How do we understand faith? Is it merely an emotional feeling, a product of logic, or a personal encounter with God?
  • Have we faced moments of doubt or a crisis of faith? How did we overcome them?
  • How does recognizing God’s faithfulness in Scripture strengthen our trust in Him today?

The Crisis of Fatherhood

17th Sunday in the Ordinary Time [C]

July 27, 2025

Luke 11:1-13

Many societies today face a silent yet deeply dangerous crisis: the crisis of fatherhood. But what exactly is this crisis, and how can we confront it?

At its core, the crisis of fatherhood reflects a reality where countless children grow up without an authentic father figure. Some fathers are physically absent; others are emotionally distant or fail to model the virtues their children desperately need. Meanwhile, modern culture—through films, advertisements, video games, and media—often portrays men as either violent villains or bumbling, indecisive figures. Rarely are they depicted as loving, responsible leaders.

This erosion of fatherhood is unravelling the fabric of society. Studies consistently show that children raised without engaged fathers face higher risks of drug and alcohol abuse, mental illness, poor academic performance, teen pregnancy, and criminal behavior. The consequences are profound and far-reaching for our societies.

So how do we address this crisis? There are no easy solutions, but we can begin by turning to Jesus. In the face of this global challenge, the prayer He taught His disciples, which we fondly call the Our Father, becomes more relevant than ever.

The most striking aspect of this prayer is how Jesus instructs us to address God. Though He is the Almighty Creator of heaven and earth, the God of the Old Testament, Jesus tells us not only to call Him “God,” but, He teaches us to say, “Our Father in heaven.” By using this intimate, human term, Jesus reveals a profound truth: God is not only infinitely powerful but also intimately close. He is not a distant, absent, and indifferent deity but a loving Father who provides, protects, and guides His children. As Deuteronomy 4:7 reminds us, He is near “whenever we call upon Him.”

Yet Jesus further clarifies that God is the Father in heaven. He is unlike earthly fathers, who are flawed and limited. God cares for us perfectly, giving sunshine and rain to both the just and the unjust (Mat 5:45). Even in suffering, His ways may seem mysterious, but His fatherly wisdom is at work even in the midst of trials. Ultimately, His deepest desire is for us to dwell with Him in heaven (1 Tim 2:3-4). As Jesus declares in John 3:16, “For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life.” The Father values us, His adopted children, so deeply that He sent His Son to be human like us to bring us home.

Every time we pray “Our Father,” we affirm two truths: First, despite our imperfections, we have a perfect Father who loves us unconditionally. Second, this prayer calls us—especially men—to reflect His goodness. It challenges us to grow from immaturity and irresponsibility into the kind of men who embody His love, dedication, and strength.

Valentinus Bayuhadi Ruseno, OP

Guide Questions: How do we relate to our fathers? What lessons have we learned from them? Are we becoming good fathers (or role models) to the next generation? How does recognizing God as “Father” transform our relationship with Him?

Rejoice in Sufferings


16th Sunday in Ordinary Time [C]

July 20, 2025

Colossians 1:24-28

Suffering is an unavoidable part of human existence. Across religions and philosophies, people have sought to explain its purpose. Yet, what is the Christian view about sufferings? How is it different from other views?

 Some view suffering as divine punishment for wrongdoing, implying that those who suffer must be guilty and sinners. Others dismiss it as an illusion, urging total detachment. Some attribute it to karma, the result of bad actions in the previous lives. While others see it as meaningless, something to avoid at all costs.

But what does Christianity teach about suffering? How does our perspective differ? The Old Testament grapples with this question, particularly in the Book of Job. Job was a righteous and sinless man, yet he endured immense suffering. Why? The Book reveals that sufferings is not a punishment, but part of God’s mysterious plan to refine his faith. This challenges the simplistic idea that suffering is always a consequence of sin.

In the New Testament, St. Paul offers a radical perspective. He writes, “I rejoice in my sufferings” (Col 1:24). At first glance, this seems astonishing—how can anyone rejoice in pain? Job of the Old Testament lamented his suffering, yet Paul expresses gratitude. Was Paul a masochist, someone who takes pleasures in pain?

Far from it. To understand, we must read his full statement: “Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh, I complete what is lacking in Christ’s afflictions for the sake of His body, the church.” Paul bore a lot sufferings for the sake of Christ, and His Church. He experienced beatings, imprisonment, hunger, and betrayal. Yet he saw his suffering not as meaningless, but as a way of sharing in Christ’s own redemptive suffering. Indeed, Jesus endured an extremely painful suffering and horrifying death on the cross, yet through His divine love, Jesus transformed these sufferings into a way of salvation.

Jesus’ crucifixion was the perfect sacrifice, which was completely sufficient for salvation. However, the Church, the body of Christ, continues to suffer because she still journeys in the world and walks in the way of Jesus’ cross. Jesus had warned His followers that they would face persecution for His name (Mt 10:38; Jn 15:20; Acts 9:16). Then, Paul had a choice: blame God for his suffering, or see it as an opportunity to perfect the suffering of the Church. Paul chose the latter, and offered his suffering as a means of blessing for the people in Colossae.

Some suffering results from our own mistakes, but often, we endure trials beyond our control. In those moments, we have a choice: to resent God or to embrace suffering as a share in Christ’s cross. When we unite our pain with His, it becomes more than just hardship: it becomes a path to holiness, a means of grace for ourselves and others.

Valentinus Bayuhadi Ruseno, OP

Guide Questions:

What sufferings are we facing today? How do we perceive them? How do we respond to them – with anger, despair, or trust? Do we see our struggles as part of Christ’s redemptive work?

Seventy

14th Sunday in Ordinary Time [C]

July 6, 2025

Luke 10:1-20

The sending of the seventy disciples is a story unique to the Gospel of Luke. This episode reveals an important truth: Jesus’ followers were far more than just the twelve apostles. But why did He choose the number seventy?

There are several possible reasons:

  1. A Reflection of Jesus’ True Following

The twelve apostles were not Jesus’ only disciples. Many others followed and learned from Him. While the Twelve were chosen as leaders of His growing community, they were not the only ones committed to His mission. The number seventy (or seventy-two, in some manuscripts) suggests a much larger group of believers dedicated to Jesus’ cause.

  • Fulfilment of the Old Testament

In the Old Testament, seventy elders were appointed to assist Moses and Aaron in leading the Israelites through the wilderness (Num 11:16-17). These elders ascended Mount Sinai, where they encountered God and even shared a meal in His presence (Exo 24:9-11). Just as Moses and Aaron relied on these leaders to guide Israel to the Promised Land, so also Jesus called and sent out the seventy to lead God’s people toward the true Promised Land, the Kingdom of God.

  • A Symbol of Fullness and Covenant

In Scripture, the number seven represents completeness and God’s covenant. For example:

  • Creation was completed in seven days (Gen 1), symbolizing divine order and perfection.
  • The Hebrew word for “seven” (sheva) is also linked to covenant-making. Thus, in Hebrew, when we say that we make “seven,” it means we make a covenant.

By multiplying seven by ten, the number seventy amplifies this meaning: God’s perfection and covenant are extended to even more people. The seventy disciples were part of God’s plan to bring redemption, order, and more souls into His family.

More Than Just a Number

These seventy were not mere statistics—each was a unique individual with their own story. Though Luke does not record their names or details, Jesus assures them (and us) that their sacrifices were known. He recognized their willingness to be sent and to go to different places, facing unknown variables. Some might fail to find a shelter, other might go hungry, while some were even rejected and mocked. Many also had to face the deadly encounter with demons which were far more powerful than their human strength. The Gospel is silent about these details, but Jesus knew them too well, and thus, even if the Gospel omits their stories, they are forever written in the Book of Life.

Like the seventy, we may feel unseen—just another face in the crowd, a mere number of statistics, our deeds too small for history books. But this Gospel reminds us: Jesus knows and loves each of us personally. Every act of love, no matter how small, is precious to Him and recorded in eternity.

Valentinus Bayuhadi Ruseno, OP

Guide questions:

What can we do to help build God’s Kingdom—no matter how small our actions may seem? Are we willing to be sent? Do we compare ourselves to others? Do we truly believe we are loved?

Peter and Paul

Solemnity of St. Peter and St. Paul [C]

June 29, 2025

Matthew 16:13-19

Why does the Church celebrate St. Peter and St. Paul together?  Several key factors bind their legacies together, making them uniquely honored in Christian tradition.

1. Prominence in the New Testament

Both Peter and Paul stand out as the most frequently mentioned figures in the New Testament. Peter (including variations like Simon, Cephas, or Simon Peter) appears approximately 190 times, while Paul is referenced even more, around 228 times—far surpassing other major figures like John the Baptist (mentioned roughly 90 times). Interestingly, though Luke’s work is titled The Acts of the Apostles, the narrative is dominated by these two men. Beyond their recorded deeds, both also contributed inspired writings to the New Testament: Peter authored two epistles (1 and 2 Peter), while Paul wrote 13 letters, forming a significant portion of the biblical canon.

2. Intertwined Lives and Ministry

Their paths crossed at critical moments in early Church history. After his dramatic conversion, Paul visited Jerusalem and spent 15 days with Peter (Galatians 1:18), likely learning firsthand about Jesus’ teachings from the chief apostle. Later, at the Council of Jerusalem (Acts 15), Paul and Barnabas argued against the imposition of the Jewish customs like circumcision on the Gentile converts. Peter, as the leader of the apostles, ultimately decided that the Gentile converts shall not be burdened by Jewish customs, thus sided with Paul. Yet their relationship wasn’t without tension. Paul later publicly criticized Peter when he withdrew from eating with Gentile Christians (Gal 2:11-14). Despite these conflicts, their mutual respect endured.

3. Shared Martyrdom in Rome

Though Scripture records only a few direct encounters, tradition holds that their ministries converged powerfully in Rome. The Acts of Apostles concludes with Paul arriving in the city around 60–61 AD as a prisoner, awaiting trial before Caesar. Even under house arrest, he preached boldly and likely wrote letters like Ephesians and Philippians. After a possible release (around 63 AD), he was re-arrested during Nero’s persecution and executed around 65–66 AD. Meanwhile, Peter likely reached Rome by the early 60s AD, where he served as the recognized leader (bishop) of the Church of Rome. The two may have collaborated there before both facing martyrdom. Peter crucified upside-down and Paul beheaded as a Roman citizen.

4. Enduring Legacy in Rome and Beyond

Their tombs remain focal points of Christian pilgrimage especially in this Jubilee year. St. Peter’s Basilica in Vatican City stands over his burial site, while St. Paul Outside the Walls at Via Appia marks where Paul was laid to rest. Intriguingly, the Basilica of St. John Lateran—Rome’s cathedral—features bronze statues of Peter and Paul above its main altar, housing relics said to be fragments of their skulls. This symbolism underscores their inseparable role as twin pillars of the Church of Rome.

Neither man began as a spiritual giant. Peter, impulsive and fearful, denied Christ three times. Paul, once a persecutor of Christians, sought to destroy the Church. Yet through God’s grace, both were transformed—ultimately giving their lives for Christ. Their shared feast not only honors their martyrdoms but also celebrates how God uses flawed people to build His Church.

Rome

Valentinus Bayuhadi Ruseno, OP

Guide Questions:

What are our weaknesses as human persons? How does the grace of God empower and transform us? Do we love the Church as St. Peter and St. Paul did? How do we love the Church?