There is something easy to forget when we come to Mass on an ordinary Sunday.
We look around and see the people who happen to be here today.
In August, some are away.
Some pews may be fuller than others.
The congregation changes from week to week.
And it is very easy to think of the Church simply as the people we can see.
But the Church is much larger than that.
Today, across the world, Catholics are hearing the same Gospel.
The same Creed is being professed.
The same Sacrifice of the Mass is being offered.
The same Jesus Christ is present upon thousands of altars.
We belong to something which stretches across nations, centuries and cultures.
Catholics do not all have the same temperament, background or customs.
But the faith itself is not ours to customise.
Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the living God.
That is the centre of today’s Gospel.
Jesus first asks what everyone else is saying about Him.
John the Baptist. Elijah. Jeremiah. One of the prophets.
Respectable answers. But not enough.
Then Jesus asks: “But who do you say that I am?”
Peter answers correctly.
And immediately Our Lord says:
“You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my Church.”
Then He gives him the keys of the Kingdom of Heaven.
The first reading has already taught us what the keys mean.
Eliakim is given “the key of the house of David.”
He is not the king.
He is the steward of the king’s household.
The key means authority exercised in the king’s name.
Then Christ, the true Son of David, gives Peter the keys of the Kingdom.
Christ remains the King.
Peter becomes the steward.
He receives a real office.
A real responsibility.
A real authority to bind and loose.
This is why Catholics have always understood the ministry of Peter to continue in his successors.
But the keys also tell us something important about ourselves.
They tell us that Christianity is not something we invent.
We live in an age which tells us that almost everything must be self-created.
Choose your own identity.
Choose your own values.
Choose your own truth.
Even religion can become something we assemble from whatever bits we happen to like.
But Catholicism begins somewhere completely different.
We receive.
We receive a Gospel we did not write.
A Creed we did not invent.
Sacraments we did not design.
A Church we did not establish.
We arrive and discover that Christ was here before us.
That is not a burden.
It is a relief.
Imagine having to invent Christianity every Sunday morning.
Imagine having to decide from scratch who Jesus is, what Baptism means, what the Eucharist is, what is right and wrong, what happens after death.
We do not have to.
Christ has spoken.
The Apostles have handed on.
The Church has received.
And we are invited into that inheritance.
That should give us great confidence.
The truth of the faith does not depend upon majority vote.
That is why numbers are not the measure of the Church’s truth.
A church may be busy one Sunday and quieter the next.
Families may be away.
People come and go.
But Christ does not become more Lord when the pews are full, or less Lord when they are not.
The Mass remains the Holy Sacrifice.
The Eucharist remains the Body and Blood of Christ.
The Gospel remains true.
That is the solidity of Catholic life.
And it is also why a parish matters.
St Mary’s is not simply a gathering place.
It is part of that great household of faith.
Here children are baptised.
Here sins are forgiven.
Here Christ gives Himself in Holy Communion.
Here marriages begin.
Here the sick are prayed for.
Here the dead are commended to God.
Here people who are strong in faith stand beside people who are struggling.
That is what a parish is for.
Not merely to keep people busy.
Not simply to provide activities.
A parish exists to help people know Jesus Christ and get to Heaven.
That is why Peter’s confession must remain at the centre of everything.
“You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.”
If that is true, then Jesus cannot simply be one interest among many.
He cannot be fitted into life where convenient.
He is Lord.
Our beliefs come under Him.
Our morality comes under Him.
Our family life comes under Him.
Our plans come under Him.
And, strangely enough, that is where freedom begins.
Because the Christian is no longer trying to construct everything alone.
We know whose house this is.
We know who the King is.
We know where the door leads.
Saint Paul reaches the only proper conclusion:
“Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God!”
That is the spirit we need.
Not anxiety.
Not endless argument.
Wonder.
We have been given riches.
The Scriptures.
The Sacraments.
The saints.
The teaching of the Church.
The Holy Eucharist.
The promise of eternal life.
And none of it depends upon us having invented it.
My brothers and sisters, today’s Gospel is therefore profoundly reassuring.
Christ has not left us as religious orphans.
He has given us His Church.
He has given Peter the keys.
He has given us the faith of the Apostles.
And He remains at the centre of it all.
So when Jesus asks:
“Who do you say that I am?”
we answer with Peter.
We answer with Our Lady.
We answer with the saints.
We answer with Catholics across the world.
We answer with those who worshipped here before us and, please God, those who will worship here long after us.
“You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.”
St. Mary's, St. John Bosco and St. Edward's 