- Homily of Archbishop Dermot Farrell for the 11.00am celebration of the Eucharist to mark the beginning of the Pontificate of Pope Leo XIV in Saint Mary’s Pro-Cathedral, Archdiocese of Dublin. This Mass was attended by 35 ambassadors, members of Government and local government, Judiciary, An Garda Síochána, Papal Orders, Knights of Malta, Holy Sepulchre and Columbanus.
Homily
The earliest Church is characterised by one thing above all: ZEAL.
The early followers of Jesus had a conviction and an energy which brought them to risk everything and travel along the treacherous roads of the Roman Empire to bring “good news”, as they called this, to their fellow Jews in the significant Jewish communities of the ancient world – in Egypt, Asia Minor, Greece, and eventually to Rome itself. They were driven, and full of hope.
God had acted in Jesus – and their Jewish sisters and brothers scattered across the Empire needed to receive what they had been given.
As well as being zealous, these early Christians had another characteristic: they were versatile. The urban Judaism of the ancient world, was very different to the Judaism of the Holy Land. Furthermore, it witnessed a great variety in itself: living one’s Jewish faith in Alexandria was a very different experience to living one’s Jewish faith in Corinth, or in Rome. The early Christians went out; they found ways to tell their “Good News” in all the corners of the Empire. They were quite successful at being heard, but also quite successful at drawing the wrath of those who felt their true faith, for which they had long suffered, was being undermined.
But the early Christians faced not only external resistance, they also faced internal resistance – tension from within the nascent Church. Those who had not left the Land – those who had grown up in Judaea and Galilee, who were close to the Temple, and were able to travel there easily, were in a very different world to those who may never be able to make a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, and for whom a stricter observance of Jewish religious law and customs had long been adapted to living in a radically gentile and suspicious environment.
One could easily say that Paul’s middle name was “zeal”!! I have fought the good fight to the end; I have run the race to the finish; I have kept the faith,” he says in today’s reading. Or, as he says to the Philippians: “a member of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew born of Hebrews; as to the law, a Pharisee; as to zeal, a persecutor of the church; as to righteousness under the law, blameless.” (Phil 3:5–5). And all of this is in the service of making Christ known.
The early Church was missionary. One could say that it had to be, but that is to miss the point. The early Christians did not go out in order to survive; they went out because they had something to give, and something they needed to give. This is what we see in Paul. Paul was brought somewhere, and he wanted others to receive what he had been given: “for freedom Christ has set us free” (Gal 5:1). He had received new life, and he wanted others to receive that life, its promise, the liberation, its utter newness, as well: “I have been crucified with Christ; and it is no longer I who live, but it is Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by the trust of the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me” (Gal 2:19b–20).
This is why we celebrate Paul, but we do not celebrate him on his own. We celebrate him with Peter, because it is in Peter and Paul together that we see, not only the mission of the Church, but the character of that mission. Let me explain.
Peter, the fisherman from Galilee, is initially not the most reliable of people. Along with his
brother he is the one of the first apostles called (see Matt 4:18), but he is also one of those who ran away after the arrest and trial of Jesus. Yet in the Gospel from Saint Matthew that we have just heard, Jesus gives Simon a new name: “You are Peter—which means Rock—and on this rock I will build my Church” (Matt 16:18). In the resurrection, in Galilee, their common home, at the lake, Jesus brings Peter back (see John 21:15-19), and reveals to him his true character. Our Church is built upon the transformed weakness of Simon. It is upon Peter – the redeemed Simon – that the Church is founded. The living Church is founded upon the painful discovery of our need for the mercy of God, and our embrace of it. “Taste and see that the Lord is good, blessed are they who seek refuge in him,” as it says in today’s Responsorial Psalm (Ps 33:8).
In this respect, the journeys of Peter and the journey of Paul parallel each other profoundly. In our time, the real power of this feast, however, lies at a deeper level; and it can only be seen when we look at both apostles together.
Paul, the Apostle to the Gentiles, approaches his mission not only with a particular dynamism, but with a singular commitment to the Gentiles who want to come to Christ: how might those who were not Jewish be fully incorporated into the communities was of particular concern to him. He became clear about what was essential for the faith and what was secondary (see 1Cor 8 and Acts 15:29). His approach was not unproblematic for the communities in the Holy Land, whose engagement with Gentiles was far less, and who had – what one might call today: “a more traditional approach” – to what was essential for discipleship and what was secondary. After all, Jesus had been a Jew and he had never raised any questions about matters as essential as circumcision, or who one could marry.
What Paul and Peter, and leadership of the Church, realised was that the “God, who was at work in Peter as an apostle to the circumcised, was also at work in Paul as an apostle to the Gentiles” (Gal 3:8). There was “one Lord, one faith, one baptism” (see Eph 4:5), and it was vital that their one faith, the one word of God, would find a home (see Col 3:16) in ways that were appropriate to believers in different cultures.
Peter and Paul together found a way – today we might speak of synodality – they found a way to hand on their faith, and to respect the contours of believers, while maintaining and building up the unity of the Church, the deeper oneness of the communities in their God-given diversity. What could have been ropes tearing the Church apart, became, through the ministry and charisms of Peter and Paul, strands woven together to bind God’s people to the work of God in his Son. They empowered the Church’s mission, and deepened its unity – mission and unity, “two essential aspects of the Church’s life and two priorities of the Petrine ministry” (see Pope Leo XIV, Address to the Moderators of Lay Associations and Ecclesial Movements, June 6, 2025).
On this feast of Peter and Paul we think of the Pope, the successor of Peter who, under Christ, is the visible sign of our unity in Christ. In his homily during the Mass for the election of the Roman Pontiff last May, Cardinal Re brought out how “the election of the new pope is not a simple succession of persons, but it is always the Apostle Peter who returns.” The confidence of Christ is heard anew: “You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my Church” (Matt 16:18).
It is in this spirit that, with deep joy, I welcome Pope Leo XIV – “the returning Apostle Peter.” At the beginning of his ecclesial mission we welcome him with confidence, knowing that he inherits the task of guiding us on the path of hope – that fire which is at the heart of Christian life, and which the whole world so urgently needs in this difficult time.
Last February, I met the then Cardinal Prevost with the other three Archbishops and the Apostolic Nuncio. I was impressed by his calmness, his openness to our concerns, and, above all, by his capacity to listen attentively to us. His engagement embodied his concern that good leaders be appointed at local level; it was a witness to how good leadership might happen in the everyday.
At the beginning of a pontificate, comparisons are inevitable, particularly with that of Pope Francis. It is not surprising to look for signs of continuity and innovation. Of course, there will be change in style, in form and pastoral orientation. This is natural; it is a sign of the Church’s life. Surely, the Holy Spirit, also when it comes to the leadership of the Church, has the ability to be present in a multiplicity of faces, styles and gestures, that bring to life, not only the proclamation the Gospel, but the embodiment of the communion and unity, and the cry for justice and dignity, to which it calls.
Let us welcome Pope Leo XIV with trust, hope, and above all, joy. On behalf of the people and clergy of the Archdiocese of Dublin I offer him our support, our best wishes, and our prayers. Amen.
ENDS
- Archbishop Dermot Farrell is Archbishop of Dublin