There’s a unique kind of beauty in celebrating the feast of two spiritual giants on the same day – especially when those giants are Saint Peter and Saint Paul. Could two men have had more different paths? Peter, a humble fisherman with a firm stance and a soft heart. Paul, a former persecutor whose conversion was as dramatic as they come. One denied Jesus. The other hunted His followers. Yet today, the Church calls them both Apostles. Saints. Martyrs.

And if that doesn’t give you hope, I don’t know what will.

Grace Finds Us in the Ordinary

Our first reading (Acts 3:1–10) gives us a glimpse into Peter’s life post-resurrection. He’s walking into the Temple, just doing what the faithful do, when a man asks for money. But Peter has none – so instead, he offers what he does have: “In the name of Jesus Christ the Nazorean, rise and walk.”

And the man does.

What strikes me here is that Peter’s greatest miracle in this moment wasn’t planned. It didn’t come from a place of abundance or power. It came from knowing the One who is power. That kind of authority doesn’t come from being perfect – it comes from being transformed.

Peter had failed publicly and profoundly. But grace doesn’t look at a failure and write it into your permanent record. Grace looks at a failure and writes resurrection over it.

From Persecutor to Proclaimer

In Galatians 1:11–20, Paul writes something that echoes loudly for our time: “The Gospel I preached is not of human origin.” He reminds us that his conversion wasn’t the result of human persuasion or a gradual enlightenment. It was a divine interruption. God broke in, not because Paul was worthy, but because God had a plan. That same God can break into your life too.

Paul wasn’t searching for Jesus. He was fighting Him. But God doesn’t wait for us to get our act together before calling us. In fact, God often chooses the people everyone else would write off. 

Is there something small, like Peter’s “silver and gold I do not have,” that you can offer to someone in Christ’s name?

If you’re still breathing, you’re still being called.

The Question That Mirrors

In the Gospel (John 21:15–19), we watch one of the most tender and powerful conversations in all of Scripture. Jesus doesn’t scold Peter for denying Him. He doesn’t replay the scene around the charcoal fire from the night Peter said, “I do not know Him.”

Instead, He redoes it – with a new charcoal fire, a new question: “Do you love Me?”

Not once. Not twice. Three times – mirroring Peter’s three denials.

And with every “Yes, Lord, You know that I love You,” Jesus gives Peter a task. “Feed My sheep.”

Love always comes with a mission.

Peter’s past didn’t disqualify him. It prepared him. His humility, his brokenness, and his love became the very foundation of his ministry.

What This Means for Us

The feast of Peter and Paul reminds us that:

• God uses the broken, not the perfect
• Past mistakes are not disqualifies, they’re often prerequisites for deeper grace.
• Conversion is ongoing. It isn’t a one-time lightning bolt – it’s a lifetime of surrender.

Peter denied. Paul persecuted. But both said yes when God called again.

You may not feel qualified. You may feel like you’ve missed too many chances, spoken too harshly, or acted out of fear. But Christ still stands before you today asking, “Do you love Me?”

And if the answer is yes – He has work for you to do.

Not once you’re better. Not when you’re ready. But now.