Sunday, August 9, 2026

Year A Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Readings: 1 Kings 19:9a.11-13a; Psalm 85:9-14; Romans 9:1-5; Matthew 14:22-33

Last week’s Gospel found Jesus trying to get away to spend time in prayer. His plan was altered when, upon his arrival on the far shore, he encountered a vast crowd. Being “moved with pity for them,” the Lord cured the sick among them. After this, he performed a miracle by feeding thousands.1

Remember that what prompted the Lord to seek out a deserted place where he could be by himself was the death of John the Baptist. It was grief that led him to desire to be alone with the Father. Our Gospel today picks up where the feeding of the 5,000 left off.

After his interaction with the multitude, the Lord still deeply desired to be alone to pray. This time he was able to go up the mountain by himself. The inspired author of Matthew seems to indicate that Jesus was on the mountain praying for quite a while. He planned to pray for so long, in fact, that he sent his disciples on their way while he stayed behind to pray.

When faced with life’s unexpected twists and turns, especially when faced with inexplicable tragedies, unexpected disappointments, and unforeseen setbacks, which leave you grief-stricken and/or feeling vulnerable and powerless, where do you go? To whom do you turn?

We live in an age when, even among people of faith, prayer easily becomes the last resort- what one does when there is nothing else s/he can possibly do. But the Lord’s first impulse upon learning of the violent death of the Baptist at the hands of Herod was to find a deserted place where he could be alone with the Father. Yet, even in his grief, he took time to serve others, even though that meant delaying hos own plans.

More than healing the sick among the vast crowd, Jesus gave thanks to God, blessed it, and then broke the bread before distributing the food. This reminds us of something we hear each week in the Preface of the Eucharistic Prayer: “It is truly right and just, our duty and our salvation, always and everywhere to give you thanks, Lord, holy Father. . .”2

Out of prudence, we normally tend to avoid absolutes like “always” and “everywhere.” Yet, when it comes to giving thanks to God, we are exhorted to have no such reticence. Sometimes this is more of a provocation than it is a consolation. Yet, this is exactly what the Lord models for us.

Saint Paul sums this beautifully in his Second Letter to the Corinthians:
Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and God of all encouragement, who encourages us in our every affliction, so that we may be able to encourage those who are in any affliction with the encouragement with which we ourselves are encouraged by God. For as Christ’s sufferings overflow to us, so through Christ does our encouragement also overflow3
My dear friends, as hard as this can be at times, this is what living out the Paschal Mystery looks like! As our Collect for today indicates, it is through Christ and “taught by the Holy Spirit” that “we dare to call [God] our Father.”4



After his time in prayer, Jesus set out to join his disciples, who’d already set sail across the Sea of Galilee. As they made their way across the water in the dark of night, they saw Jesus approaching them, walking on the water. Understandably, this frightened them.

The Lord assured them that it was indeed him and exhorted them, “do not be afraid.”5 Looking at this allegorically, the sea becomes the great mystery of life, wide, deep, often unpredictable, and at times quite scary. The boat is what we build to keep ourselves provisionally safe from the vicissitudes of life. But even in the relative safety of the boat, we know the power of storms at sea.

As long as the waters are calm, the boat seems a safe place. Those in the boat accompany one another during this sometimes-perilous crossing. As the wind whips up and waves start to rise and crash, here comes the Lord, improbably walking toward us. It is Jesus who transforms the waters into the vastness of God's love and mercy. He says to you, "Come."

Peter’s stepping out is what Paul wrote about when he insisted that it is by receiving God’s encouragement in our afflictions that we are able to encourage others experiencing affliction. It is by sharing in Christ’s cross that you already share in his resurrection. You need not even fear death. God, who is love, is stronger than death!

Peter knows full well that he cannot walk on the water. He needs the Lord's help to do so. Jesus is all too happy to say to his eager follower, “Come.”6 Lo and behold, Peter steps out of the boat and begins to make his way across the water to Jesus.

Losing his focus on Christ, Peter suddenly becomes all too aware of himself. He begins to sink. But even then, Jesus immediately stretched out his hand and caught Peter. Fear, which is so tied up with focus on self, is often what holds us back.

The Lord repeatedly says to his disciples, “Do not be afraid.” In Saint Matthew’s Gospel alone, he says it three times. Besides today’s passage, he says this to Peter, James, and John after his Transfiguration, when they saw Moses and Elijah and heard the Father’s voice.7 Finally, the Risen Lord tells the women who came to the tomb, “Do not be afraid! Go tell my brothers to leave for Galilee, and they will see me there.”8

True prayer, the kind of prayer Jesus no doubt engaged in while on the mountain, results in self-forgetting. The consolation we offer to those who are afflicted in the midst of our own afflictions also requires self-forgetting, which arises from true prayer.

The sea of life is wide, deep, and unpredictable. We never know what tomorrow may bring, good or bad. And so, like Peter stepping out of the boat, let us squarely face reality by making an act of faith. Let’s do it by borrowing words from a famous prayer of Thomas Merton:
I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death.
I will not fear, for you are ever with me,
and you will never leave me to face my perils alone9
And so, with Peter, we implore: “Lord, save me!”10


1 See Matthew 14:13-21.
2 Roman Missal. Preface VI of the Sundays in Ordinary Time, sec. 57.
3 2 Corthinthians 1:3-5.
4 Roman Missal. Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time.
5 Matthew 14:27.
6 Matthew 14:29.
7 See Matthew 17:1-8.
8 See Matthew 28:1-10.
9 Thomas Merton. “The Merton Prayer,” from Thoughts in Solitude.
10 Matthew 14:30.

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Year A Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Readings: 1 Kings 19:9a.11-13a; Psalm 85:9-14; Romans 9:1-5; Matthew 14:22-33 Last week’s Gospel found Jesus trying to get away to spend ...