Homily Ordinary 19A: Turning to Christ in the storms of life

 Homily for 18^th Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A 2026

Introduction

My favorite apostle has always been St. Peter. Not because he became the first pope, but because he is wonderfully human.

Peter loves the Lord with all his heart. Yet he often speaks before thinking. One moment he is full of courage; the next he is overcome by fear. At the Last Supper he promises to remain faithful to Jesus even unto death, yet a few hours later he denies him three times. In today's Gospel he boldly asks to walk on water, only to become frightened by the wind and begin to sink.

If there is a patron saint for imperfect disciples, Peter surely deserves that title. He reminds us that holiness is not about never failing. It is about learning where to turn when we fail.

Today's Gospel is not really about walking on water. It is about learning to trust Christ when the storms of life come. Peter simply shows us how difficult that can be.

For those of us who live here in south Louisiana, storms are not just images from the Bible. We know what they are like. We remember Hurricane Ida. Many families here lost homes, businesses, treasured possessions, and the sense of security they once had. Even today, some families are still rebuilding their homes and their lives. Storms leave scars long after the winds have stopped.

And not all storms come with rain and wind. Some come with a frightening medical diagnosis or with the death of a loved one or with the loss of a job. Others come with a child or grandchild who has drifted away from the faith. Others still come through disappointments in the Church itself.

The question is not whether storms will come. Jesus never promised that they wouldn't.  The real question is: How do we face them?

Scripture and Theology

The Gospel today begins with the disciples already in trouble. Their boat is battered by a storm, by waves, and yet, Jesus seems absent.

That image has always been understood as a symbol of the Church. We are all in the same boat, journeying toward our true home. Sometimes the waters are calm. Sometimes they are rough. Sometimes it feels as though the Lord is far away.  Perhaps we have all had moments when we have asked, "Lord, where are you? Why don't you seem to be doing anything?"

The disciples felt exactly the same way.  Then, in the darkest part of the night, Jesus comes to them.

Notice something important. Jesus does not first calm the sea. He first says, "Take courage; it is I; do not be afraid."  His first gift is not a change in circumstances.  His first gift is his presence.

That is often how God works in our lives. Sometimes he changes the situation. Sometimes he does not. But he always promises to remain with us.

But what does trusting Jesus really mean?  We often tell one another, "Just trust Jesus."  That is good advice—but what does it actually mean?

It surely cannot mean pretending that all is fine.  Some people try to deny the storm. They tell themselves that nothing is wrong. When my own mother died a few years ago, well-meaning people sometimes tried to take away the pain by saying, "She's in a better place." I knew they were trying to comfort me. But grief cannot simply be explained away. Faith does not deny the pain of loss. Faith allows us to bring that pain to Christ.

But neither is giving in to despair, such as when people become convinced that everything is falling apart and that there is no hope.

Fortunately for us, Christian hope lies somewhere else, in between these two extremes.  Hope looks honestly at the storm without pretending it isn't there. But it also refuses to believe that the storm has the final word.

That is what Peter teaches.  He teaches us what that hope looks like.  As long as Peter keeps his eyes fixed on Jesus, he walks on the water. When he becomes consumed by the wind and the waves, he begins to sink.  The problem was not the storm. The storm had been there all along. The problem was where Peter fixed his attention or rather when he turned his attention from Jesus.

Christian Life

The same temptation confronts us today. It is easy to become consumed by the endless stream of bad news, political arguments, social media, and everything that feeds our anxiety. Before long, we can spend more time listening to voices that stir fear than to the voice of Christ who says, "Do not be afraid."

So, where can we find Christ today? The beautiful truth is that Jesus has not left us to face life's storms alone.  After his Ascension he returned to the Father, but he did not abandon his Church.

The Second Vatican Council reminds us that Christ continues to be truly present among us in four main ways:

·        in the Eucharist,

·        in the other sacraments,

·        in the Scriptures proclaimed in the Church,

·        and whenever God's people gather together in his name.

That means relying on Jesus is not simply having pious thoughts or wishing that everything will work out.  It means deliberately turning our gaze away from whatever threatens to overwhelm us and toward the places where Christ has promised to meet us.

·        When we come to Mass carrying heavy burdens, Christ receives them.

·        When we come to Confession seeking mercy, Christ forgives us.

·        When we open the Scriptures with faith, Christ speaks to us.

·        When we pray with and support one another, Christ strengthens us through the members of his Body.

This is how Catholics rely on Jesus—not by escaping reality or by being engrossed in it, but by bringing reality to him.

Perhaps the most comforting part of today's Gospel is when Peter actually does begin to sink.  Jesus does not say, "Peter, you failed. You should have trusted me more."  Instead, when Peter cries out with one of the shortest and most beautiful prayers in all of Scripture: "Lord, save me,” immediately Jesus stretches out his hand.  Peter is not saved because his faith is perfect. He is saved because, even in his weakness, he knows whom to call.

That is the lesson for every disciple. The saints are not people who never fail or sink, or doubt, or stumble. Rather they are those who never stop turning back to Christ when they do.

Conclusion

Sooner or later, every one of us will face another storm. Some of us might be in one right now.  Some have just come through one.  Others do not yet know the storm that lies ahead.

The good news of today's Gospel is not that faithful Christians are spared every trial. The good news is that Christ never abandons his people. When fear threatens to overwhelm us, we do what Peter did. We cry out, "Lord, save me."

And where do we find the Lord who reaches out his hand?

·        Here at this altar.

·        Here in the sacraments.

·        Here in his Word.

·        Here among the people who make up his Body, the Church.

The winds may still blow and the waves still rise. But we do not face them alone.

In a few moments we will come forward to receive the Eucharist. We will receive not merely a reminder of Jesus, but Jesus himself—the One who walked upon the sea, who reached out his hand to Peter, and who still says to each one of us today: "Take courage. It is I. Do not be afraid."