Today we celebrate Saints Simon and Jude. They are very dear to me, because they are the patrons of the college where I was formed for ordination, on a green hill far away in West Yorkshire, England. Today, students from that college, old and new, will gather in small bunches to celebrate these saints, and what we have been gifted through the college that holds a devotion to them, so what can I share with you, in this country far from home about dear Simon and Jude…
Simon and Jude: Two apostles who can sound as though they are being introduced by elimination.
Simon—but not Simon Peter. Judas—but not Judas Iscariot.
The other Simon. The other Judas.
We know very little about either of them. Scripture calls Simon “the Zealot” but doesn’t give us enough to reconstruct his politics or personality. I rather enjoy imagining him arriving with banners and placards, ready to challenge injustice. But that is my imagination, rather than his biography.
What his name does offer us is a question: what are we zealous for? What matters enough to stir us into action? Following Jesus gives us plenty to care about: people going hungry, neighbours living in fear, those who are excluded or treated as though their lives matter less.
There are times when love needs to get to its feet. Make the phone call. Challenge the cruel remark. Offer practical help. Say, “We cannot simply allow this to happen.”
But zeal needs tending. We can become so determined to win an argument that we forget the person we are arguing with. We can pour ourselves into every need until there is nothing left. Our enthusiasm needs Christ’s direction, and our bodies and souls need rest.
And then there is Jude, whom Christian tradition remembers as the patron saint of desperate situations and lost causes.
That title has drawn people to him for generations. People who have run out of answers. People who have prayed for years and seen little change. People who are frightened that someone they love is beyond help. We don’t know whether Jude was the quiet one, moving chairs and locking up after everyone else had gone home. But his association with desperate situations invites us to consider another part of discipleship: the faithfulness that keeps loving when there is little encouragement. The visit that makes no headlines. The listening ear. The prayer offered again, when we have nothing new to say. Such things can become a lifeline.
Perhaps Simon and Jude, remembered together, can help us hold courage and perseverance together too. We need people who stir us into action, and people who help us keep going. Sometimes we need to be both.
So here are two small challenges for this week.
First, choose one thing you care about and give it one practical act of love. Keep it manageable. A conversation, a donation, an offer of help. Let something that concerns you become something you do.
Second, bring to God one person or situation you are tempted to give up on. You don’t need to find an answer or manufacture optimism. Simply name them before God. Ask for help to love faithfully, and for wisdom about what is yours to do.
Today we honour two apostles whose stories are largely hidden from us, but whose lives belong to the foundations of the Church. We come to the same Christ who called them. Here, at this table, we receive nourishment for our own calling. May we leave with courage to act, grace to persevere, and love enough for the next faithful step.
Amen.
