Homily by Fr Simon Ckuj on the First Anniversary of Bishop Peter Stasiuk’s Passing into Eternity

August 13, 2026

Today we commend Bishop Peter once again to the mercy of God. We thank the Lord for the years he served us, for the wisdom he shared, and for the quiet sacrifices known only to God. And we ask that his prayers accompany us, so that we may continue to build the Church he loved with the same courage, patience, and faith.

Homily by Fr Simon Ckuj on the First Anniversary of Bishop Peter Stasiuk’s Passing into Eternity

Brothers and sisters in Christ,

Today, on the first anniversary of the falling‑asleep in the Lord of Bishop Peter Stasiuk, we gather with a mixture of gratitude, longing, and quiet hope. Anniversaries of death have a way of slowing us down. They invite us to remember not only the person, but the grace that God worked through that person. And they remind us that the communion of saints is not an idea—it is a living reality.

Saint Paul, in today’s epistle, speaks of a kind of sorrow that leads to life. He writes that “godly grief produces a repentance that leads to salvation”—a grief that is not destructive, but purifying. Paul is not talking about sadness for its own sake. He is speaking of the sorrow that opens the heart, the sorrow that clears away what is unnecessary, the sorrow that makes room for God.

In many ways, Bishop Peter lived with that kind of clarity. He was a man who understood that the Church grows when her shepherds allow themselves to be shaped by the Gospel. He carried responsibilities that were heavy, yet he never let them harden him. His leadership was firm but pastoral, structured yet compassionate. He had that rare ability to correct without humiliating, to encourage without flattering, and to challenge without wounding. Many of us here were shaped by that.

Paul also urges us today to “cleanse ourselves of every defilement of body and spirit, making holiness perfect in the fear of God.” Bishop Peter spent his life helping our Church in Australia do exactly that—strengthening our parishes, forming our clergy, preserving our traditions, and ensuring that our Ukrainian Catholic identity was not merely inherited but lived. He understood that holiness is not abstract. It is expressed in the way we serve, the way we pray, the way we carry one another’s burdens.

And so, on this anniversary, our grief is not the grief of despair. It is the grief Paul speaks of—the grief that sharpens our vision and deepens our resolve. Bishop Peter would not want us to be paralysed by memory. He would want us to continue the work: to build communities that are welcoming, to form young people who know their faith, to preserve our liturgical beauty, and to stand with Ukraine in truth and dignity.

He would want us to remember that the Church is always more than its structures. It is a living body, and each of us has a part to play. If we honour his memory, we do so not only by recalling his achievements, but by allowing his example to inspire our own conversion—our own “godly grief,” as Paul says, that leads us closer to Christ.

Today we commend Bishop Peter once again to the mercy of God. We thank the Lord for the years he served us, for the wisdom he shared, and for the quiet sacrifices known only to God. And we ask that his prayers accompany us, so that we may continue to build the Church he loved with the same courage, patience, and faith.

May his memory be eternal.

See also