21st Sunday 2023
Isaiah 22:19-23; Romans 11:33-36; Matthew 16:13-20
I have done it again! I have come up with a new, brilliant, original idea, which has never occurred to me before—until I look back to 2020, and discover that I used it then. I wanted to talk about the symbolism of keys, which have a value beyond their practical use, and it came into my mind to use the example of the large silver key which is presented to the reigning monarch when he (as it is now) visits the Castle in his capacity as Duke of Lancaster.
At other times, this key is presented to the Constable of the Castle, the King’s representative, when s/he takes office. Whether it would actually open the castle gates, I do not know: what I do know is that it is never used for that purpose. It is a symbol of the Duke’s (ie the monarch’s) ownership of the Castle, and of the Constable’s equally symbolic stewardship.
My second “new” idea is somewhat vaguer. I think, though I may be totally wrong, that when the Yeoman warders (the Beefeaters) are shutting up shop at the Tower of London for the night, they are challenged by a sentry with the traditional question “Who goes there?” to which, after a certain amount of persiflage, they reply “the King’s keys”. It is far from impossible that I have a) imagined or invented this or b) used it before, but if it is true, it once again highlights the symbolism of keys.
This is something which we find today both in the prophet Isaiah and in St. Matthew’s Gospel. Eliakim, the new master of the palace, is invested with the robe and sash of office, and the key of the House of David is placed upon his shoulder. This is a fairly inconvenient place to have a key for practical purposes, the point being that it is not practical but symbolic, just as a new knight is tapped on the shoulder with a sword. This key represents authority, stewardship, over the House of David, the royal line from which the Messiah is to come.
Fast forward several centuries and this same Messiah, having been acclaimed as such by Simon Peter, gives to that same Peter “the keys of the Kingdom of Heaven”, indicating his stewardship over the Messiah’s Kingdom. Add to this the play on words by which Peter is addressed as the rock on which the Church is to be built, and we can recognise the great authority invested in Peter and, we believe as Catholics, in his successor, the Pope.
What does this authority amount to, and why is it given to Peter? It amounts to stewardship exercised on behalf of the Messiah, the Christ, and not for Peter’s own advantage or his aggrandisement. It is given to Peter because he has expressed his faith in Jesus as the Christ, and has done so infallibly, expressing what was revealed to him by the Father.
It is neither absolute authority nor absolute infallibility. It is authority exercised under Christ and in accordance with His will: it is infallibility in expressing what has been revealed to him by the Father, and not in stating the Pope’s personal opinion or his preferences. There are massive safeguards which hedge in the exercise of infallibility: allegedly, there were occasions when Cardinal Ratzinger, later Pope Benedict XVI, acting as head of the Congregation of the Doctrine of the Faith, fired a shot across the bows of Pope St. John Paul II, informing him that he could not claim infallibility for some of his intended doctrinal declarations.
Now we face the weekly question: what are the implications for us? Firstly, we owe loyalty and respect to the Pope, as the bearer of Christ’s keys. This does not mean that we have to agree with everything which the Pope says. Rather than imitate the 19th Century writer WG Ward, who would have welcomed a papal directive with his “Times” every morning, we would sometimes be wise to follow the advice of the late Tony Benn MP who, in negotiating a loaded question suggested that, if a document is a Papal Bull, it would be wise to move out of the way, as one normally does when confronted by a bull. What is unacceptable is the abuse and defiance which some supposed Catholics, particularly in America, direct at the present occupant of the Chair of Peter.
Another question, however, is more important. How do you respond when Jesus turns to you and asks “But you, who do you say I am?” We know the answer, but that is not enough. What are the implications for your daily life when you reply “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God”? Does your answer affect the way you live, day in and day out, and if so, how? Peter answered, and continues to answer, that question on behalf of the Church, but each and every one of us must answer it for ourselves.
