Unlike most liturgical Sundays that are identified by numbers (Second Sunday of Advent, Fifth Sunday of Easter, Thirteenth Sunday of Ordinary Time…), the five Sundays this June are identified by names: Ascension, Pentecost, Holy Trinity, Corpus Christi, and Peter & Paul.  These feasts help us focus on a concept or event that strengthens our relationship with God and one another.  The final one, the Feast of Saints Peter and Paul, normally not in the Sunday rotation, has a hidden significance in Kansas City this year.

One hundred years ago, a downtown church at 9^th Street and McGee (then, McGee and Cherokee Streets) named Saints Peter and Paul, founded in 1866, was closed because of urban encroachment, proximity to other Catholic churches (Saint Patrick Church was only three blocks away), and the fact that people were moving south.  To honor the history, Kansas City Bishop Thomas Lillis, in 1925, planned to establish a new Saint Peter Parish in the burgeoning Brookside area and Saint Paul in the fledgling Blue Hills neighborhood.  But because a young and extremely popular saint, Therese of the Child Jesus, also known as The Little Flower, was canonized that year—and perhaps coerced by local Catholics—he decided to pay tribute to her role in contemporary faith history instead of the first century evangelist.  Hence, Saint Peter and Saint Therese Little Flower Parishes, now located in the heart of KC, are, this year, celebrating their centennial anniversaries.

This trivia may be of little interest to most people beyond parishioners of these two communities.  But maybe it can inspire us to think about what it means to be a saint and how the saints whose names are inscribed on churches around the city and the world continue to guide us.  Philosopher Felix Adler once said: “Heroes are those who kindle a great light in our world, who set up blazing torches in the dark streets so that others can see.  Saints, however, are those who walk through those same dark streets and become a light so that others can find their way.”  Saint Paul, who was originally blinded by the light, allowed the light to permeate within him and then, when the time was right, the light that had found a dwelling in his heart burst out so that he courageously evangelized, announcing Good News to the world.  His proclamation of Christ, who is forever the true light of creation, helps people discover meaning and purpose in their own lives.  Peter and Therese, likewise, became more than heroes but also saints who spur us on by their luminating guidance.

There is a difference between heroes and saints just as there is a difference between fame and success.  One is symbolized by the Taylor Swifts and Tom Bradys of the world and the other by the Mother Teresas and Martin Luther Kings.  Sometimes people are both.  Muhammad Ali once said, “Champions are not made in gyms.  They are made from something deep inside—a desire, a dream, a vision.”  As we seek to tap into that deep thing inside us, let’s touch the light of Christ that dwells there.  Author Phyllis McGinty in her book, Saint Watching, wrote: “When I was seven, I wanted to be a tight-rope dancer until I broke my collar bone practicing. At twelve I planned to be an international spy. At fifteen my ambition was the stage. But now, in my sensible years—my declining years—I would give anything to be a saint.”   I think she speaks for many of us; the wisdom of aging can help us discover what is important.

As the church returns to Ordinary Time with Sundays that are identified by numbers instead of names, we might do well to reflect upon our ordinary lives and ask the Good Lord to shed divine light and give us some extraordinary moments, even if they’re fleeting.  We all have the potential to be saints.  As Nathan Soderblom once proclaimed: “Saints are just people who make it a little bit easier for others to be good.”  As we honor the saints for whom our churches are named, let’s encourage those who worship within them to let their light shine so that, together, we might dispel the world’s darkness