Sermon for the Feast of St Peter and St Paul

Today we celebrate the feast of two giants of the Christian faith: St Peter and St Paul. In our Gospel reading, we hear Peter’s powerful declaration of Jesus’ identity as the Christ, the Son of the living God. In response, Jesus names Peter the rock on which he will build his Church, entrusting him with the keys of the kingdom of heaven.

Peter is often pictured holding those keys—and of course, we know the jokes about him guarding the pearly gates like some heavenly bouncer. But that’s not the image we want here at St John’s. We’re striving to be a place not of exclusion but of radical welcome and inclusion.

And however imperfectly we do this, we are committed to walking in the way of Jesus. Jesus didn’t surround himself with the powerful or the pure. He shared meals with tax collectors and sinners, extended his hand to those labelled unclean, and embraced those on the margins. He welcomed people others rejected.
In the Church today, exclusion has taken on different forms. For centuries, the Church of England—shaped by the voices and interests of white, privileged men—excluded people because of their sexuality, their marital status, or the colour of their skin. But slowly, and still imperfectly, the Church is learning to open its arms wider. It’s a journey we must continue—here, now, together.

That’s the first point for today: may we continue to open the doors of this church, and the doors of our hearts, to be a community of welcome and inclusion.

This year, our celebration is particularly special. Jenny Davenport will be ordained—first as deacon, and, God willing, as priest next year. Jenny’s ordination is the fruit of years of prayer, discernment, and formation. It’s a moment of joy for her—and for all of us.

So today is a good moment to pause and reflect on what vocation means.

The word vocation comes from the Latin vocare, meaning “to call.” To have a vocation is to respond to the call of Christ—to follow him and to be changed by him. It’s not just about clergy. Every Christian is called to share in the life and work of Jesus.

Jesus described himself as the Good Shepherd—leading, guiding, protecting, searching for the lost. At ordination, bishops receive a pastoral staff as a sign that they share in that shepherding work. And those ordained as deacons and priests promise to assist them in that ministry. And as the late Pope Frances reminded clergy, ‘I wish you to be shepherds with the smell of the sheep’. Let’s not push the metaphor too far, but Jenny, that’s one of your challenges to smell of the flock of Holland Park.
But this isn’t the job of the ordained alone.

The Reformers rightly challenged the idea that only clergy “are” the Church. That’s where the phrase the priesthood of all believers comes in—not a direct quote from Scripture, but a powerful point: that every Christian has a part to play in the mission of God.

So if you’re not being ordained, you are still called. You are called to be Christ’s kind, gentle, loving presence in your workplace, your neighbourhood, your family, your community. You don’t have to preach about your faith… in fact, please don’t! But you will carry the presence of Christ within you. 

And here at St John’s, we are called to rescue the lost, welcome the stranger, and serve the weak. 
Archbishop Michael Ramsey wrote the best book about vocation. He wrote in the 1970s but his book is still recommended reading today. In The Christian Priest Today, he said this:
 
“The glory of Christianity is its claim that small things really matter, and that the small company, the very few, the one man, the one woman, the one child are of infinite worth to God… [Jesus] gives many hours to one woman of Samaria, one Nicodemus, one Martha, one Mary, one Lazarus, one Simon Peter, for the infinite worth of the one is the key to the Christian understanding of the many.”

That’s the heart of Christian vocation: to know that God loves each person infinitely—and to live our lives in a way that reflects that love.

And here’s one more bit of good news: the saints we celebrate today—Peter and Paul—got it wrong. Often. Spectacularly, even. Yet God still called them, worked through them, and built the Church on their witness.
So Jenny—when, like all of us, you mess up—be encouraged. God is not looking for perfection. God is looking for a willing heart.

And that, perhaps, is the best news of all. Whatever your path, however you feel about your faith today—God works with an open and willing heart.

So on this Feast of St Peter and St Paul, may we hear again the call of Christ. May we open wide the doors of our church and our hearts. And may we follow him—imperfectly, humbly, and courageously—into the world he came to save.