Patrick Comerford
We are continuing in Ordinary Time in the Church Calendar and the week began with the Ninth Sunday after Trinity (Trinity IX, 2 August 2026).
Before today begins, I am taking some quiet time this morning to give thanks, for reflection, prayer and reading in these ways:
1, today’s Gospel reading;
2, a reflection on the Gospel reading;
3, a prayer from the USPG prayer diary;
4, the Collects and Post-Communion prayer of the day.
Matthew 14: 22-36 (NRSVA):
22 Immediately he made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds. 23 And after he had dismissed the crowds, he went up the mountain by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone, 24 but by this time the boat, battered by the waves, was far from the land, for the wind was against them. 25 And early in the morning he came walking towards them on the lake. 26 But when the disciples saw him walking on the lake, they were terrified, saying, ‘It is a ghost!’ And they cried out in fear. 27 But immediately Jesus spoke to them and said, ‘Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.’
28 Peter answered him, ‘Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.’ 29 He said, ‘Come.’ So Peter got out of the boat, started walking on the water, and came towards Jesus. 30 But when he noticed the strong wind, he became frightened, and beginning to sink, he cried out, ‘Lord, save me!’ 31 Jesus immediately reached out his hand and caught him, saying to him, ‘You of little faith, why did you doubt?’ 32 When they got into the boat, the wind ceased. 33 And those in the boat worshipped him, saying, ‘Truly you are the Son of God.’
34 When they had crossed over, they came to land at Gennesaret. 35 After the people of that place recognized him, they sent word throughout the region and brought all who were sick to him, 36 and begged him that they might touch even the fringe of his cloak; and all who touched it were healed.
Today’s Reflections
In last year or two, I have enjoyed being on boats in Sarawak and Singapore, barge trips on the Grand Union Canal, and watching rowers and boats in York, on the Backs in Cambridge, on the river in Oxford and in York. I even had the pleasure many years ago of one college boat club in Cambridge asking to use one of my photographs in a fundraising drive.
It is almost 60 years since I first went rowing as a teenager on Lough Ramor in Virginia. But I had long thought that I would be left regretting that I had taken up courses in Cambridge when I was too late in life to learn, or to re-learn, how to row.
I had come to enjoy rowing as a sport and an activity, but in a very passive way.
Then, shortly after I arrived in Askeaton in 2017, one evening, as I was standing at a slipway by the banks of the Rover Deel, I was invited suddenly and unexpectedly to get into a boat and to row.
I was fearless. It was a pleasure I had often hoped for and wished for. And for almost an hour, we rowed upstream, under the bridge at Askeaton, and as far as the castle, and then downstream past the factory, although not as far as the estuary. When I suggested that I might be too old to learn, or re-learn, how to row, I was told brusquely and with humour that once I stopped learning I had stopped living.
Later that same week, I watched children and teenagers hop in and out of boats, freely and fearlessly, confident of their own ability and the ability of those who were training them.
Fearlessly. But as I was messing about on boats in Crete some weeks earlier, hopping on and off them in the sun as I visited smaller islands and lagoons, I thought of how this was a pleasure that I was paying for and wondered but how many refugees were full of fear as they boarded boats in the dark trying to arrive on Greek islands, having paid exorbitantly for the risk and the dangers.
Fearlessly. What are your worst fears?
I know, at present, many of us have fears arising out of the wars between Russia and Ukraine, the wars involving the US in Iran and the Gulf, Israel in Gaza and Lebanon, and the global insecurity created by the mercurial decision-making by the Trump regime.
As we grow up and mature, we tend to have fewer fears of the outside world, and as adults we begin to cope with the fears we once had as children, by turning threats into opportunities.
The fears I had as a child – of snakes, of the wind, of storms at sea, of lightning – are no longer the stuff of recurring nightmares they were as a child. I have learned to be cautious, to be sensible and to keep my distance, and to be in awe of God’s creation.
But most of us have recurring dreams that are vivid and that have themes that keep repeating themselves. They fall into a number of genres, and most psychotherapists identify a number of these types of dreams that most of us deal with in our sleep at various stages in adult life.
They include dreams about:
• Drowning.
• Finding myself unprepared for a major function or event, whether it is social or work-related.
• Flying or floating in the air, but then falling suddenly.
• Being caught naked in public.
• Missing a train, a bus or a plane.
• Caught in loos or lifts that do not work, or that overwork themselves.
• Calling out in a crowd but failing to vocalise my scream or not being heard in the crowd or recognised.
• Falling, falling into an abyss.
There are others. But in sleep the brain can act as a filter or filing cabinet, helping us to process, deal with and put aside what we have found difficult to understand in our waking hours, or to try to find ways of dealing with our lack of confidence, feelings of inadequacy, with the ways we confuse gaining attention with receiving love, or with our needs to be accepted, affirmed and loved.
There are two choices in the lectionary for Gospel readings at the Eucharist today: Matthew 14: 13-21, or Matthew 14: 22-36. The first choice was also the Gospel reading yesterday.
In this second, alternative Gospel reading (Matthew 14: 22-36), Saint Peter’s plight seems to be a working out of a constant, recurring, vivid dream of the type that many of us experience at some stage: the feelings of drowning, floating and falling suddenly, being in a crowd and yet alone, calling out and not being heard, or not being recognised for who we are.
Peter sees Christ walking on the lake or floating effortlessly above the water. At first, he thinks he is seeing a ghost. But then Christ calls to him, and Saint Peter responds.
Once he recognises Christ, Saint Peter gets out of the boat, starts walking on the water, and comes towards Christ. But he loses his confidence when he notices the strong wind, he is frightened, and he begins to sink.
He cries out: ‘Lord, save me.’ Christ immediately reaches out his hand and catches him, saying to him, ‘You of little faith, why did you doubt?’
They get back into the boat, the wind ceases. And those in the boat worship him, saying, ‘Truly you are the Son of God.’
Was the sight of Christ walking on the water an illusion?
Was Peter’s idea that he could walk on the water the product of an over-worked mind while he was sleeping?
Did he realise he was unprepared for the great encounter?
Did the wind cease when he woke from the dream?
All of these questions are over-analytical and fail to deal with the real encounter that takes place.
Even before the Resurrection, in his frailty, in his weakness, in his humble humanity, Saint Peter calls out to Christ: ‘Lord, save me’ (verse 30).
Do the others in the boat fall down at Christ’s feet and worship him because he can walk on water? Because he can lift a drowning man out of the depths? Or because they recognise that in Christ they can find the end to all their worst dreams and nightmares?
Despite the heatwaves we have been experiencing this summer, we know too, as they say, to expect the unexpected when we are on water, whether it is a river or a canal, a lake or at sea. Everyone needs to know that the weather can turn, the waters can become choppy, and this can be a frightening experience, even on rivers, close to the river bank and close to firm land.
As seasoned boat-handlers, the Disciples know not to try walking on water. They know the risk of sudden storms and swells, and they know the safety of a good boat, as long as it has a good crew.
But since the early history of the Church, the boat has symbolised the Church.
The bark (barque or barchetta) symbolises the Church tossed on the sea of disbelief, worldliness, and persecution but finally reaching safe harbour. Part of the imagery comes from the ark saving Noah’s family during the Flood (I Peter 3: 20-21). Christ protects Peter’s boat and the Disciples on the stormy Sea of Galilee (see also Mark 6: 45-52; John 6 16-21). The mast forms the shape of the Cross.
It is an image that appears in Apostolic Constitutions and the writings of Tertullian and Clement of Alexandria. We still retain the word nave for the main part of the church, which, architecturally often looks like an up-turned boat.
So, I do would not want any of us to risk walking on water, or to play stupidly in boats on the river or on a lake, and certainly not off the coast or out to see.
But if we are to dream dreams for our parishes, for the Church, for the Kingdom of God, we need to be aware that it comes at the risk of feeling our dreams may be the nightmares of others.
If we are going to dream dreams for our parishes, for the Church, for the Kingdom of God, we may need to step out of our safety zones, our comfort zones, and know that this comes with a risk warning.
And if we are going to dream dreams for our parishes, for the Church, for the Kingdom of God, we need to keep our eyes focussed on Christ, and to know that the Church is there to bring us on that journey.
Let us dream dreams, take risks for the Kingdom of God, step outside the box. But let us keep our eyes on Christ and remember that the boat, the Church, is essential for our journey, and let us continue to worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness.
An icon of the Church as a boat, including Christ, the Apostles and the Church Fathers (Icon: Deacon Matthew Garrett, www.holy-icons.com) Today’s Prayers (Monday 3 August 2026):
In Pray with the World Church, the prayer diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), the theme this week (2-8 August 2026, pp 24-25), is ‘Faith Under Pressure in Nicaragua’. This theme was introduced yesterday with a Reflection by the Most Revd Juan David Alvarado, Bishop of El Salvador and Primate of the Province of the Anglican Church in Central America.
The USPG prayer diary today (Monday 3 August 2026) invites us to pray:
Lord, strengthen your Church in Nicaragua as it faces fear and persecution. Grant courage and protection to all who continue to witness to your truth.
The Collect of the Day:
Almighty God,
who sent your Holy Spirit
to be the life and light of your Church:
open our hearts to the riches of your grace,
that we may bring forth the fruit of the Spirit
in love and joy and peace;
through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord,
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.
The Post Communion Prayer:
Holy Father,
who gathered us here around the table of your Son
to share this meal with the whole household of God:
in that new world where you reveal the fullness of your peace,
gather people of every race and language
to share in the eternal banquet of Jesus Christ our Lord.
Additional Collect:
Gracious Father,
revive your Church in our day,
and make her holy, strong and faithful,
for your glory’s sake
in Jesus Christ our Lord.
Yesterday’s reflections
Continued tomorrow
Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible: Anglicised Edition copyright © 1989, 1995, National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide. http://nrsvbibles.org
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