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The Catholic Church has recognized over ten thousand saints. Most people couldn't name five. Everyday Saints tells the real stories — not the stained-glass versions. Every week, host John O'Connor sits down with the life of one saint, told in plain language for regular people with real jobs, real doubts, and real lives. No theology degree required. Just honest stories about flawed, complicated humans who somehow became extraordinary. Whether you're a lifelong Catholic, a curious skeptic, or somewhere in between — pull up a chair. These stories are worth knowing.
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The Catholic Church has recognized over 10,000 saints. Most people couldn't name five. And most of the ones they could name, they don't actually know the real story. Hi, my name is John O'Connor. This is Everyday Saints. Not the stained glass versions, not the ones who always had the right answer and the calm demeanor. The real ones. The ones who blew it and then got back up. The ones who, if you met them at your neighbor's backyard cookout, you'd think, Yeah, I know that person. I want to tell you why this show exists, because I think it matters. I was raised Catholic, went through the whole thing, Mass, CCD, baptism, First Communion, reconciliation, though I never made it to Confirmation. And somewhere after that, I drifted. And for a long time, I'd have told you I still believed. But I just wasn't sure in what. About five to seven years ago, somewhere in that range, something started pulling me back towards Christ. I can't fully explain it. It was quiet at first, but it was real and has been growing louder ever since. A few years ago, I started dating a woman who is now my wife, actually as of a few weeks ago. She's a Christian, a genuinely faithful one, but she was not raised Catholic. And one day she asked me something that genuinely surprised me. She said, Why do Catholics pray to saints? Who are these people? And I realized I couldn't really answer her. I'd grown up with these names on the church calendar, statues in the sanctuary, feast days I barely paid attention to, and I couldn't tell her who they actually were. And that bothered me. So I started digging, and what I found surprised me. These weren't distant, untouchable, holy figures carved out of marble. that my brain had concocted in my early childhood? They were people, flawed, complicated, struggling people, who somehow, in the middle of their ordinary and sometimes broken lives, became extraordinary. That's what this show is about. Every week, one saint told in plain language, no theology degree required. Now, if you're not Catholic or... Even if you are, but nobody ever really explained it, you might be wondering what it actually means for someone to be called a saint. Here's the short and abridged version. The Catholic Church recognizes certain people as saints after a long process of investigation into their lives, their character, and historical accounts associated with them. It's the Church's way of saying, this person lived their faith in a way worth knowing about. But, I want to be clear about something. This show isn't about pushing Catholic doctrine. You don't have to be a Catholic to find these stories meaningful. You don't have to agree with everything the church teaches to recognize that these were real human beings who faced real struggles and came out the other side of them changed. theology can wait. The story is what matters. And this story is always worth knowing. I'll be honest with you. I'm not a theologian, I'm not a priest, I'm a guy who drifted, got pulled back, married a woman who'd never heard of these people, and got curious. So, I'm doing the research and bringing it to you. And some of what I've found has genuinely surprised me. We'll figure it out together. So, every week we're going to sit down, I'm thinking front porch, sweet tea is optional, and walk through the story of just one of these people. who they really were, what they actually struggled with, and why their story still matters to somebody sitting right where you are today. And we are starting with the best possible person for episode one, a loud, impulsive, working class fisherman who once looked Jesus Christ directly in the face and said, I don't know that man three times in one night. And Jesus still built the whole church on him. This is the story of Peter, and I think by the end of this, you're going to like him a lot. Let's go back about 2,000 years. We're on the northern shore of the Sea of Galilee, which sounds exotic, but really wasn't. Think of it less like a postcard and more like a working waterfront, a small harbor town where everybody knows everybody. The air smells like fish and wood smoke, and the main topic of the conversation is whether the catch last night was worth the trouble. That's where Peter grew up. That's where he worked. His real name was actually Simon. Jesus is the one who later called him Peter, which means rock. And there's a whole story there we'll get to. But before any of that, he was just Simon, a fisherman, a working man. Now, I want you to really picture what life looked like, because it was not romantic. Fishing on the Sea of Galilee in the first century meant going out at night. That's when the fish actually rose closer to the surface. You'd be out there in a wooden boat in the dark, casting heavy, handmade nets over and over, hauling them back in soaking wet and sorting through what you caught, mending the nets that tore. Then you'd drag everything back to the shore before sunrise, deal with the fish, and then try to sleep for just a few hours before you'd did it all over again. Hard, physical, repetitive labor, not glamorous, not well paid by the standards of the day. Peter co-owned a boat with his brother Andrew and often worked alongside two other brothers, James and John. A small fishing partnership, a little family business trying to make ends meet under Roman occupation which came with its own set of headaches such as taxes and military presence. Peter was also married. We know this because later in the gospels, Jesus heals his mother-in-law. So, he had a wife, a household, a family to provide for, real stakes, real responsibilities. And his personality? oh It just jumps right off the page. Peter was the kind of guy who said whatever he was thinking before he thought it through. Passionate. loyal, loud, and quick. Quick to act, quick to speak, and sometimes just a beat too slow to think. He was the friend who always speaks first in a group and means every word of it, even when it gets him in trouble. The kind of guy who, when things get tense, either steps all the way forward or steps all the way back. Nothing in between. He was not polished. He was not a particularly patient man. He was a working man with a big personality and a bigger heart. And through all that, Jesus looked at him and thought, yes, that one, that's the guy I want. So here's how it starts. One ordinary morning, after a long night of fishing that produced absolutely nothing, Peter and Andrew are on the beach washing out their nets, tired. Probably a little grumpy as I know I would be. The whole night of work and nothing to show for it. Jesus is nearby, teaching a crowd that keeps pressing in closer. He spots Peter's boat, walks over and basically asks if he can borrow it. Just push out from shore a little so he can address the crowd without getting crushed. Peter does it. He sits there and listens while Jesus teaches. When the teaching is done, Jesus turns to Peter and says, put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch. Now, put yourself in Peter's sandals for a second. You have been fishing all night. You know these waters. This is literally your job. And here comes this carpenter who just borrowed your boat is now telling you where to fish. Peter's response is honest. You can almost hear the exhaustion in it. He says, we worked hard all night and didn't catch a thing. And then he says something that I think is one of the most quietly powerful lines and likely overlooked. But because you say so, I will let down the nets. Not, I believe this will work. Not, great idea, let's do it. Just, you said so, so okay. That's kind of trust. tired and skeptical as it sounds. Turns out to be exactly enough. The vignettes fill so fast and so full they start to tear. Peter has to wave his partners over. Both boats take on so many fish they start to sink. And here's what Peter does when he realizes what just happened. He doesn't cheer. He doesn't start calculating how much this haul is worth. He falls down at Jesus' knees and says, Go away from me, Lord. I am a sinful man." Now, that's a fascinating reaction, isn't it? When you come face to face with something genuinely holy, the first thing you feel is an excitement. It's your own smallness. Peter knew himself. He knew he was not the cleanest vessel for whatever this was. And Jesus just says gently, don't be afraid. From now on, you'll be catching people. The boats pulled up on shore and Peter, Andrew, James, and John walked away from everything. The boats, the nets, the business, the whole familiar life, and followed Him. Just like that. I think about that a lot lately. God does not wait for you to have your act together. He doesn't wait for you to feel worthy. He calls you right in the middle of your most ordinary, tired, nothing to show for it day. For the next three years, Peter walked with Jesus every single day. Front row for the whole thing, water turned to wine, thousands of people fed with a few loaves and some fish, blind people who could suddenly see, dead people who weren't dead anymore. He was also one of three disciples, along with James and John, who got to be there for things the others didn't. He was there when Jesus was transfigured on the mountain, shining like the sun, talking with Moses and Elijah. Peter saw it with his own eyes. And yet, Peter stayed very much Peter throughout all of it. He's the one who, when Jesus predicts that he's going to suffer and die, actually pulls Jesus aside and starts telling him that nothing's going to happen. His heart was right, his theology was not. Jesus had to turn around and say, get behind me Satan, you're thinking like people think, not like God thinks. Imagine being the guy who got that particular correction in front of everyone. He's the one who, at the last supper, when Jesus says he's going to wash the disciples' feet, says, You are not washing my feet, Lord, absolutely not. Big, emphatic, final. Then, seconds later, when Jesus explains why it matters, then Lord, not just my feet, wash my hands and my head too. He's the one who stepped out of the boat to walk on water, actually walked on water, and then looked down, panicked, and started to sink. Jesus reached out and caught him and said, why did you doubt? Which is a fair question. You were doing so well. He argued with the other disciples about who among them was the greatest. He fell asleep in the garden of Jezomim while Jesus was in agony nearby. Fell asleep not once, not twice, but three times, even after Jesus came and woke him. And when the soldiers finally arrived to arrest Jesus, Peter pulled out a sword and cut off a servant's ear, not a soldier's, the high priest's servant. Peter didn't lack for passion, but he did lack for aim. But all of that, all of it, is a warm up for the night that broke him. Jesus is arrested. The other disciples scatter. Peter follows at a distance, which is actually braver than what most of the others did. He makes it to the courtyard of the high priest's house. and stands by a charcoal fire warming himself in the dark while Jesus is being interrogated inside. We will come back to this one subtle point, but I want you to remember the scene I just described. A servant girl looks at him and says, you were with that man, Jesus. Peter says, I don't know what you're talking about. A little while later, someone else says it. You're one of them. Peter denies it again. Then a third person, and this one says it with confidence, surely you are one of his disciples, your accent gives you away. And Peter starts to curse and swear, I do not know that man. Immediately the rooster crows. And Luke tells us, this detail gets me every time, that at that exact moment, Jesus turned and looked at Peter. Not a word, just a look. And Peter remembered what Jesus had said earlier that night, that before the rooster crowed, Peter would deny him three times. Peter had pushed back on it hard. He said he'd go to prison for Jesus. He said he'd die first. Peter went outside and he wept bitterly. I don't know about you, but that hits close to home. Not necessarily a dramatic public moment, But have you ever been so sure you would do the right thing and then found out under pressure that you didn't? Have you ever failed someone that you love in a moment that really mattered and then had to sit with that? That's Peter, sitting outside in the dark, rooster in the distance, weeping. And if you've drifted from faith, if you feel like you walked away at the wrong moment, said the wrong thing, Let something slip you wish you hadn't? I want you to hold on to what comes next. The crucification happens. Jesus dies. Peter is somewhere in Jerusalem hiding with the others gutted. And then the resurrection. Jesus is alive. He appears to Mary Magdalene first. Then to some of his disciples. But there's something specific that happens later that I want to sit with. because I think it's one of the most tender scenes that I have found in my studies of the scripture. A group of the disciples, including Peter, have gone back to Galilee, back to the boats, back to the lake, back to fishing. It almost feels like they are not sure what to do now. What comes next? Whether the last three years meant what they thought it would mean. They fish all night, again. Catch nothing, again. In the early morning, someone is standing on the shore calling out to them, friends, haven't you any fish? They say no. He tells them to throw the net on the right side of the boat. They do. The nets fill up immediately. So many fish they can't haul it in. John looks at Peter and says, it is the Lord. Peter, and at this point this is so Peter, Doesn't wait for the boat, he throws on his outer garment and jumps into the water and swims to shore. When they get there, Jesus has already built a charcoal fire. There's bread, he's cooking fish, he says, come and have breakfast. This is Jesus, risen from the dead, conqueror of death, and he's making breakfast on the beach. Now, here's the detail I want you to catch. The fire. a charcoal fire. Do you remember the last time Peter stood by a charcoal fire? It was in the courtyard of the high priest, the night of the denials. This is not an accident. Jesus is setting the scene deliberately. After breakfast, Jesus turns to Peter and asks him a question. Simon, son of John, do you love me? Peter says yes. Jesus says, Feed my lambs. Jesus asks again, Simon, son of John, do you love me? Peter says yes again, a little stung that he's asking twice. Jesus says, take care of my sheep. And a third time, Simon, son of John, do you love me? And Peter is grieved now. The text says he was hurt that Jesus asked him a third time. And he says, Lord, you know all things. You know that I love you. Three questions, one for each denial. Jesus doesn't shame him. He doesn't bring up the courtyard. He doesn't make him explain himself. He just gives him three chances to say yes. And then he gives him a mission. Go take care of my people. No lecture, no probation period, no we need to talk about what you just did. Just love and a new assignment. Peter is restored, fully, completely restored and handed the keys. 50 days after the resurrection, something extraordinary happens. The disciples are gathered in Jerusalem when the Holy Spirit comes on them like fire. And Peter, This same Peter who couldn't keep it together in front of a servant girl by a fire, walks outside, stands up in front of a crowd of thousands and preaches. Not hauntingly, not nervously, boldly. He looks at the crowd and says, in effect, you crucified the son of God. God raised him from the dead. We are all witnesses and you can still repent and be baptized in his name and receive the Holy Spirit. Three thousand people were baptized that day. The man who denied knowing Jesus in front of three people is now proclaiming him to thousands. That's not self-improvement. That's transformation. Peter goes on to become the clear leader of the early church. He heals a lame man at the temple gate. He raises a woman named Tabitha from the dead. He has a vision that leads to the gospel spreading to the Gentiles. the non-Jewish world, a massive, controversial step that changed the course of history. He gets arrested more than once, gets thrown in prison. One time, he's chained between two soldiers the night before his scheduled execution, and he's so at peace that the man is sleeping, actually sleeping, when an angel shows up to break him out. He writes two letters. Two of them made it into the New Testament. Testament, I will say there is some historical debate on whether Peter actually wrote these letters, but regardless, they are full of encouragement for people who are suffering, people who feel out of place in the world, people who are trying to hold on to their faith when everything around them is hard. Eventually, Peter makes it to Rome, the heart of the empire that crucified Jesus, and he preaches there too. According to tradition that goes back very early in church history, Peter was arrested during the Emperor Nero's persecution of Christians and then sentenced to crucification. He asked to be crucified upside down because he said he was not worthy to die in the same position as his Lord. The fisherman from Galilee who once wept in the dark outside a high priest's house on an upside down cross in Rome. So, why does any of this matter on a Tuesday morning when you're driving to work or doing the dishes or sitting in the parking lot of your kids school? Here's what I keep coming back to with Peter. Jesus didn't fix him before he called him. He called him as he was, walked with him through all the stumbling, watched him fail in the worst possible way, and then restored him. Not once he had figured it out, right in the middle of the mess. The failures are in the story on purpose. Peter's impulsiveness, his pride, his three denials, they are not footnotes, they are the point. Because the same Peter who failed is the same Peter who preached at Pentecost and died upside down for his faith. The failures didn't disqualify him. They didn't even slow Jesus down. And notice, how Jesus handles the restoration. He doesn't skip over the wound, he goes right to it. He builds a charcoal fire, same setting, same kind of fire, and he asks the question three times. Not to shame Peter, to heal him, to give him a chance to say out loud three times what he couldn't say the night in the courtyard. I think that's how God works with us too. He doesn't pretend the failure didn't happen. He meets us right there at the sight of it and says, do you love me? And when we say yes, even if we are a little broken and weepy when we say it, he says, good, here's what we are doing next. I'll be honest, that's part of why I started this show. I drifted. I'm still finding my way back. And what I keep discovering is that the Saints, The real ones, not the stained glass versions, were mostly people who drifted too. Who failed. Who said the wrong thing at the worst possible moment and then had to figure out what came next. And somehow, that's exactly who God kept using. Maybe you are carrying something like that. A moment where you didn't show up the way you wish you had. A version of yourself you are not proud of. Something You've been a little afraid to bring back to God because you figure he's probably done with you on that particular subject. Peter's story says otherwise. The practical challenge for this week is simple. Find 10 quiet minutes in the car, before bed, wherever, and have an honest conversation with God about one thing you've been avoiding. You don't have to have it all together. You just have to show up. Use Peter's words if it helps. Lord, you know all things. You know that I love you. That's enough. That has always been enough. And now for a quick closing prayer. Lord, thank you for Peter. Thank you that you put his whole messy story in the book instead of cleaning it up. Thank you that you called a fisherman with a temper and a track record of failure and said, you're my guy. You're the rock. For everyone listening right now who is carrying a failure they think might be too big, a doubt they can't shake, a version of themselves that they are not proud of, remind them of the beach. Remind them of the breakfast. Remind them that you asked the question three times, not to rub it in, but to heal it. We love you, even when we don't show it well. Amen. One more thing before we go. and I'm going to do this at the end of every episode because I think it's worth knowing. Peter is the patron saint of fishermen, sailors, netmakers, and the papacy, which makes a certain kind of sense when you sit with it. The man who spent his whole early life on the water, who led the church through its most dangerous years, who died for his faith on an upside down cross in Rome, the church remembers him as the protector of the people who still work on those same waters today. and of every leader who carries the weight of shepherding others. The next time you are near water, the ocean, a lake, a river, think about Peter, a working man, a flawed man, a man who said yes even when he wasn't sure he could follow through. The church called him a saint. Jesus called him a rock. I think both are true. That's episode one of Everyday Saints. If this connected with you, I'd really love it if you shared this with one person. Just one person you think might need to hear that they are not disqualified. Leave a review if you have a minute. It helps more people find the show. Next week we're talking about a young girl who was kidnapped, enslaved, and tortured and came out the other side without a trace of bitterness. Her story will definitely stay with you. I'm John O'Connor. Thanks for sitting on the porch with me for a little while. I will see you next week.