Friday June 2, 2017
At the lakefront, the Risen One and Peter stand face to face. For the apostle, the great endowment of Caesarea Philippi, when Jesus declared him the rock of unity of the faith of the Church through time is repeated. The triple profession of love from Peter cleared his threefold denial, making him pastor of the flock of Christ's followers. The end of the text refers to the personal destiny of the disciple who, in the last stage of following, will suffer martyrdom. The conversion, mission and death of Peter are the result of his love for Christ.
Alternative
Peter was not able to rise to heroic love, agapè, on that occasion (see April 25). But he understood friendship. Friendship is the best rehearsal for agapè. It is a deep mystery in itself. “I have called you friends,” Jesus said (Jn 15:15).
Goethe once said that when our friends are with us we don’t think the same of them as when they are absent. This, he said, is because “absent friends are yourself, and they exist only in your head; whereas the friends who are present have individualities of their own.” This is a sharp insight into the brittleness of friendship: it can be infiltrated and even swallowed up by the ego. I may love my friends only so long as they love me and agree with me and support my self-image. “No medicine is more valuable than a friend,” said St. Aelred of Rievaulx. But what if my friend makes a diagnosis that doesn’t flatter me?
Perhaps it comes to this: I must be aware how subtly and quickly the ego begins to deny the independent existence of the other person, turning him or her into a function of myself. I must realize: it is the other person’s difference from me that will teach me and challenge me and drive me out of my ego-trance. But at that point, friendship is already becoming agapè.