Today’s Gospel gives us one of the most striking and memorable scenes in all of Scripture: Jesus walking on the water.
The disciples are far from land, the wind is against them, and the waves are battering the boat. They are tired, soaked, afraid — and then, to make matters worse, they see a figure walking toward them on the sea and think it’s a ghost. Their fear rises even higher.
But then Jesus speaks: “Take heart; it is I. Do not be afraid.”
It’s a moment of revelation: Jesus is Lord not only of bread and fish, not only of teachings and parables — but Lord over nature itself. And He comes to His disciples in the storm.
The disciples didn’t meet Jesus on a calm day at the beach. They met Him on the sea, in the darkness, when they were exhausted and frightened. That’s where He chose to reveal Himself in power.
This is deeply encouraging. Sometimes we think we can only encounter God in perfect circumstances: when we’re feeling holy, when life is peaceful, when we’ve got everything together. But that’s not how God works.
He walks into the storm. He steps into our chaos.
Whatever storm we face — grief, temptation, illness, fear, doubt — Christ is not far. In fact, He often comes most clearly in those moments, when everything else is stripped away.
Peter, ever bold, says, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” Jesus says, “Come.” And Peter steps out of the boat — and walks on water.
Let’s not skip that! Peter — a fisherman, not a mystic — actually walks toward Jesus on the sea. It’s miraculous.
But then, as the Gospel says:“When he saw the wind, he was afraid, and beginning to sink he cried out, ‘Lord, save me!’”
Here’s the key lesson: Peter began to sink when he looked away from Jesus and looked at the storm instead.
That’s us. When our eyes are fixed on Christ — in prayer, in the sacraments, in trust — we can endure so much. But when we start focusing on the problems, the what-ifs, the waves… we sink.
This isn’t to pretend the storm isn’t real — it is. But it is not greater than Christ.
As Peter sinks, he doesn’t try to swim, he doesn’t make excuses. He just cries out: “Lord, save me!” And what happens? “Jesus immediately reached out his hand and caught him.”
Immediately. No hesitation. That is the mercy of God. Even our failure becomes a doorway to grace if it drives us to cry out to the Lord.
This is a Gospel not just about storms and fear, but about how God responds to weakness with mercy, and how even partial, faltering faith is enough if we turn to Him.
There’s a detail at the start of this Gospel: “After dismissing the crowds, He went up on the mountain by Himself to pray.”
Jesus doesn’t rush from one miracle to another. He withdraws to pray — to be with the Father.
And then He comes down from the mountain, walks across the chaos, and reaches His disciples in the storm.
Sound familiar?
He does the same thing in the Eucharist. From the mountain of His eternal priesthood, He comes to us — crossing the stormy sea of history — and says again: “Take heart. It is I. Do not be afraid.”
Brothers and sisters, what storms are you facing today?
Are you exhausted like the disciples?
Are you sinking like Peter?
Are you crying out, “Lord, save me”?
Then you are in the perfect place because that’s exactly where Jesus meets us. He doesn’t wait for sunshine. He walks on water to reach you now.
So take heart. It is the Lord.
Do not be afraid.