Broken to Be Rebuilt
Today, as we celebrate the Feast of Saints Peter and Paul, we’re invited to pause and reflect on what it truly means to live a faithful life. Both very different men. One a fisherman, impulsive and loyal. The other a scholar, once a fierce persecutor of Christians. And yet, both were transformed. Both gave their lives to the same mission. Both poured themselves out for Christ.
Today, we heard Paul’s words from his second letter to Timothy:
“ I have fought the good fight to the end; I have run the race to the finish; I have kept the faith; all there is to come now is the crown of righteousness reserved for me…” (2 Timothy 4:7–8)
It’s the kind of thing we often hear in eulogies. A life that was full, that persevered, that achieved something worthwhile. But what does it really mean to fight the good fight? To finish the race?
At first glance, it sounds like Paul is describing a life of human success, hard work, overcoming obstacles, reaching a goal. But if we look deeper, we realise he’s pointing to something much more powerful.
In verse 6, Paul says: “I am already being poured away as a libation…”
In the ancient world, a libation was a drink, usually wine, poured out completely as an offering to the gods. None of it was kept. It was a sign of honour, surrender, and devotion.
Paul wasn’t just saying he’d worked hard. He was saying his life had been completely given away. Like wine spilled from a cup. Emptied. Offered. Every part of it belonged to God.
That’s a powerful image and a challenging one.
Can we say the same of ourselves?
Most of us are more comfortable with holding back. We like to give to God in bits. A Sunday here. A prayer there. Maybe some charity when we can. But to give everything? That’s frightening. There’s something deep in us that wants to protect ourselves, to stay in control.
Paul would have felt that too. He wasn’t superhuman. He had moments of fear, frustration, loneliness. But he learned to rely not on his own strength, but on God’s grace. In another letter, he confesses: “I was given a thorn in my flesh… But the Lord said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’” (2 Corinthians 12:7–9)
We tend to see Paul as the bold preacher, the tireless traveller, the author of letters. But today’s reading lets us see the inner man. A man who struggled. A man who suffered. A man who was broken and in that breaking, was made new.
This is a truth we often forget: before bread can feed the hungry, it must be broken. In the miracle of the feeding of the 5,000, Jesus took the bread, gave thanks, and broke it before sharing it with the crowd. That breaking came before the blessing. As Fr Surain shared in his homily, breaking is often how God begins to build. In the same way, Paul’s life and ours must be broken open for God to use fully.
Paul’s words remind us that the real journey of faith isn’t just about doing things for God. It’s about becoming someone with God. Allowing Him to shape us, even when it hurts. Especially when it hurts.
There’s a story shared by Fr Ron Rolheiser, a well-known Catholic writer. He tells of an old monk who once said, “When I was young, I fought against the devil. But now that I am old, I no longer fight the devil, we are both tired. Now, I fight with God.” When asked, “Do you hope to win?” the monk replied, “No. I hope to lose.”
Why would anyone hope to lose a fight with God? Because to lose to God is to let go of pride. To let go of our plans. To let Him lead. To let Him pour us out, not wastefully, but purposefully.
Paul’s life wasn’t easy. Neither was Peter’s. But both ended their lives with peace, not because everything went smoothly, but because they trusted the One who held their lives. They let themselves be broken, and in doing so, they became a blessing to others.
What about us?
Are we holding back parts of our lives, our time, our talents, our hearts? Or are we willing to be poured out too?
The good fight isn’t about winning in the world’s eyes. It’s about staying faithful. The race isn’t about finishing first. It’s about finishing with God. And the crown isn’t something we earn. It’s a gift we receive when we give ourselves completely to the Giver of life.
Today, may we be inspired by Peter and Paul, not just to admire them, but to follow their example. May our lives, too, be offered up as a libation. Not out of fear, but out of love. (BV)