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?

Vanity of vanities

18th Sunday in Ordinary Time [C]

August 3, 2025

Ecclesiastes 1:2; 2:21-23

“‘Vanity of vanities!’ says Qoheleth. ‘Everything is vanity!’ (Ecclesiastes 1:2; 12:8).” What does this striking declaration mean? Is every human endeavor truly meaningless?

The voice behind this book introduces himself as Qoheleth—a Hebrew term meaning “one who gathers people,” especially for the purpose of teaching. Thus, it is often translated as “the Teacher” or “the Preacher.” He identifies himself as a son of David and king over Jerusalem (1:1), a figure endowed with unparalleled wisdom, power, and wealth. Yet from this privileged vantage point, after a lifetime of reflection, he delivers a sobering verdict: Everything is hevel.

This Hebrew word hevel (הֶבֶל) carries rich imagery—it describes vapor, a passing breeze, or a fleeting breath. Like mist dissolving at dawn, hevel represents what is transient, elusive, and ultimately unsatisfying. Qoheleth’s metaphor of “chasing after the wind” (1:14) paints a vivid picture of humanity’s restless striving for what cannot be grasped.

His exploration begins with wisdom itself. He recounts how he pursued knowledge relentlessly, surpassing all who came before him (1:16). Yet instead of fulfilment, he found that greater wisdom only multiplied sorrow (1:18). This seems paradoxical—don’t we assume learning brings clarity and peace? Qoheleth exposes the limits of earthly wisdom: the more we know, the more we confront life’s unanswerable questions and our own mortality.

Pleasure fares no better. He tests every delight—luxuries, arts, sensual joys (2:1–11)—only to conclude their thrill is momentary. Wealth and achievements prove equally hollow. No one takes riches to the grave; heirs may squander them, and even the greatest legacies fade from memory. Death, the great equalizer, renders all human distinctions meaningless (2:14–16; 9:2–6).

Amid this stark realism, Qoheleth anchors his readers to one unchanging truth: “Fear God and keep His commandments, for this is the whole duty of humanity” (12:13). In a world where everything slips like sand through our fingers, God alone endures. Our purpose is found not in accumulating what is temporary but in aligning our lives with His eternal will.

However, Qoheleth’s perspective remains earthbound. He grapples with life “under the sun” but offers no explicit hope beyond the grave. Death, for him, seems a silent frontier (3:19–20; 9:5–6). It is Jesus who later brings this tension into full resolution. In the parable of the rich fool (Luke 12:13–21), Christ echoes Qoheleth’s warning against clinging to earthly treasures but expands it with the promise of eternity. Thus, what we do and we have now have meaning because in Christ, they prepare us for an everlasting destiny.

Reflection Questions:

How does Qoheleth’s perspective challenge modern assumptions about success and purpose? In what ways have we experienced the “vanity” of pursuits that once seemed essential? How does Jesus’ teaching on eternal life transform the way we engage with temporary things?

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?

Trinity in the Bible and in Our Life

The Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity [C]

June 15, 2025

John 16:12-15

The mystery of the Holy Trinity stands at the center and foundation of our faith because it reveals the very nature of God. Our logical minds can deduce that there is one God, a perfect Being who created and sustains all things. Yet, we depend on divine revelation to grasp this profound truth. The word “Trinity” does not appear in Scripture, but the Bible, both in the Old and New Testaments, unveils this reality. Scripture affirms there is only one God, yet simultaneously reveals a plurality within His oneness.

One intriguing passage that hints at the Trinity is the very verse that declares God’s oneness—the Shema Israel (Deuteronomy 6:4). The Hebrew text reads: “שְׁמַע יִשְׂרָאֵל יְהוָה אֱלֹהֵינוּ יְהוָה אֶחָד” (Shema Yisrael Adonai Eloheinu Adonai Echad). Most English translations render this as, “Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one.” However, a more literal translation would be: “Hear, O Israel: The Lord, our God, the Lord, one.” It is striking how the verse mentions the Lord three times before concluding with “one.”

Other Old Testament passages also suggest plurality within God’s unity. For example: Gen 1:1-2 and 1:26 speak of God creating with His Spirit and using the plural “Let Us make man in Our image.” The Angel of the Lord appears as a divine yet distinct figure (Gen 16:7-13; 22:11-18; Exo 3:2-6; Judg 13:18-22). The Spirit of God is active in the Psalms and prophets (Ps 51:11; Isa 63:10-11; 48:16; Eze 36:26-27). Prophet Zechariah (2:10-11) even speaks of “two Yahwehs.” Yet, the fullness of this mystery is only fully revealed in the New Testament.

One of the most definitive Trinitarian passages is Matthew 28:19: “Baptize them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.” Here, Jesus speaks of one name, yet within that one name are three distinct Persons: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

However, the Trinity is more than a biblical truth, but it is the most precious gift to us. As St. Paul writes, “No one can say, ‘Jesus is Lord,’ except by the Holy Spirit” (1 Cor 12:3). The Spirit infuses faith in our hearts, enabling us to confess Christ, the Son of the Father. The same Spirit pours hope into us amid trials, especially for confessing the true God (Rom 5:3-5). And when we love, even those hardest to love, we participate in the life of the Triune God, whose very essence is love (1 Jn 4:8).

The Trinity is not merely a doctrine to profess but a mystery we live daily. We enter Christian life through Trinitarian baptism. As Catholics and Orthodox, we begin prayers with the Sign of the Cross, invoking the Father, Son, and Spirit. In the Eucharist, the Holy Spirit transforms the bread and wine into Christ’s Body and Blood, offered to the Father as the perfect sacrifice.

As we celebrate this greatest mystery of our faith, let us give thanks that God invites us into His very life—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—now and forever.

Rome

Valentinus Bayuhadi Ruseno, OP

Guide Question:

How do we relate with the Holy Trinity? When the first time, we recognize the truth about the Trinity? How do we relate to the Father? How do we relate to Jesus? How do we relate to the Holy Spirit?

We are Precious

7th Sunday of Easter [C]

June 1, 2025

John 17:20-26

Jesus died for us and rose from the dead to save us from sin and death. He did all this because He loves us deeply. As Jesus Himself said, “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends” (John 15:13). But why does He love us so much? Why does He consider us dear enough to give His life for us?

One of the most profound answers lies in 1 John 4:8, “God is love.” Love is not just something God does; it is who He is. Because His very nature is love, He cannot help but love us. Jesus’ love flows naturally from His identity. At the same time, Scripture reveals that we are made in God’s image (Gen 1:26-27). This means we are fashioned in the likeness of Love itself. Perhaps this is why we only find true fulfilment when we live out our deepest purpose: to love as God loves (John 13:34) and to be loved by Him.

Yet, as I reflect further on Scripture, I find something even more beautiful. In today’s Gospel, Jesus prays to the Father—not only for His disciples but also for those who would come to believe through their message, which includes us. He prays that we may be united with one another and with Him, just as He and the Father are one. Then, He reveals something astonishing: “Father, I desire that those you have given me may be with me where I am” (John 17:24). We are the Father’s gift to Jesus. We are a living expression of the Father’s love for His Son.

This truth is deeply relatable. When we love someone, we often give them a precious gift as a token of our affection, and to the recipient, that gift becomes irreplaceable. A wedding ring, for example, is treasured not merely for its material value but because it symbolizes a spouse’s love. But we are far more than gold or jewels. God marvellously created us to be perfect gifts of love for His Son. Is it any wonder, then, that Jesus cherishes us so dearly? He willingly gave His life for us because every time He sees us He sees the proof of His Father’s love. He just could not bear the thought of losing us or being separated from us.

Today, in some countries like the Philippines and Italy, the Church celebrates Jesus’ Ascension into heaven. The image often shown is of Jesus rising while His disciples remain below. But He is not leaving us behind—He is drawing us closer to the Father. Why? Because we are precious to God. We are, at the very core of our being, the Father’s gift to His beloved Son.

Valentinus Bayuhadi Ruseno, OP

Questions for reflection:
Do we realize that we are precious in God’s eyes? Do we live as the precious one of God? How do we live as the Father’s gifts? How do we share the gifts we receive from God?

Hearing the Voice of the Lord

4th Sunday of Easter [C]

May 11, 2025 

John 10:27-30

Hearing is one of the most fundamental senses that make us human. While it is true that we rely heavily on sight to navigate the world, hearing sets us apart from other animals. How is this possible? 

Certainly, humans do not have the best sense of hearing. Many animals possess far greater hearing abilities. For instance, bats have a sonar-like sense, allowing them to gauge distance through sound. Human ears are far weaker in comparison. Yet, despite our ordinary hearing capacity, we possess something other animals lack: the ability to associate sounds with meaning. In other words, we can create language. More importantly, we can distinguish meaningful words from senseless noise. 

Through hearing, ancient people built their families and communities. They listened to their leaders for guidance on defending themselves against wild animals and surviving harsh environments. By hearing, they learned the wisdom of their elders and the stories passed down through generations. Hearing meaningful words is what truly makes us alive as humans. 

Unfortunately, we now live in a world full of noise—senseless sounds, auditory pollution, and even false words. What we often hear no longer serves our survival or growth but merely what screams the loudest. We no longer listen to reason, the wisdom of the past, or—most importantly—the words of the Lord. If ancient people recognized that hearing their leaders was essential for survival, we too must realize that hearing our Lord, Jesus Christ, is not optional—it is a matter of our soul’s survival. 

So how can we learn to listen attentively to the voice of our true Shepherd? 

First, just as sheep listen to their shepherd’s voice for safety, we must recognize our Shepherd’s voice and follow His instructions—for our eternal salvation depends on it.   Second, to recognize His voice, we must become familiar with it. This comes through continual listening—by regularly reading the Bible, studying His teachings through the Church, and engaging in deep prayer. As we grow accustomed to God’s voice, we also learn to distinguish voices that do not come from Him—those of our own desires, the world, and evil spirits.   Third, listening must lead to action. Hearing without obedience is meaningless—or worse, it means following the enemy’s guidance. 

Rome

Valentinus Bayuhadi Ruseno, OP

Guide Questions:

Do we know the voice of our Lord? What kind of voices do we listen to? Are we able to distinguish the different voices in our lives? Do you believe you are following the words of the Lord? 

Our Weak Love and God Strong Love

Third Sunday of Easter [C]

May 4, 2025

John 21:1-19

In today’s Gospel, Jesus asks Peter three times, “Do you love me?” Some Church Fathers interpret this repetition as Jesus undoing Peter’s threefold denial. However, a closer look at the Greek text reveals that Jesus uses different words for “love” in each instance. These subtle distinctions deepen our understanding of the passage.

First, Jesus does not simply ask a question, but He makes a demand. In His first request, Jesus calls for a specific kind of love. John the Evangelist uses the Greek word “agape”, which signifies a wilful, sacrificial love, that seeks the genuine good of others. This love is not based on emotions but rather on freedom and commitment. True agape requires giving oneself completely, even to the point of sacrificing one’s life. Here, Jesus demands the highest form of agape from Peter, a love that surpasses all other things.

In His second request, Jesus once again uses “agape”, but this time without the phrase “more than these.” He still calls for sacrificial love, but not to the highest degree. In His third request, Jesus shifts from agape to “philia”, the Greek word for friendship-based love. Unlike agape, which is rooted in free will and dedication, philia depends more on emotions, mutual feelings, and shared interests. While true friendship may require acts of agape, its foundation remains philia. Once common interests fade, friendships often weaken.

But why does Jesus seem to lower His expectations—from total agape to simple agape, and finally to friendship? The answer lies in Peter’s responses. Each time Jesus questions him, Peter replies with “philia”. He cannot bring himself to profess agape, especially not in its highest form. His previous denial has left him broken, ashamed, and hesitant to love Jesus again. Fear holds him back.

Yet, despite Peter’s incomplete answers, Jesus does not rebuke him or seek a more faithful disciple. Instead, Jesus meets Peter where he is. He accepts Peter’s flawed, hesitant love and still entrusts him with the mission of shepherding His flock. Jesus does not require perfection, but He desires humility and sincerity. He sees Peter’s efforts and knows that, in time, Peter will give his life for Him.

God asks each of us for the highest form of love, yet we often fall short. Like Peter, we are wounded, weak, and full of failures. But the Good News is that God accepts our imperfect love and gently leads us toward perfection.

Rome

Valentinus Bayuhadi Ruseno, OP

Reflection Questions:

Do we love God?  Do we love Him with agape or philia?  In what ways do we fail to love God? What keeps us from loving God? How does He continue to love us despite our shortcomings? Can we recall a moment in our life when God’s unwavering love was evident despite our failures?