About Today
Saturday 18 April 2026
Saturday of the 2nd week of Eastertide
The Lord has truly risen, alleluia.
Year: A(II). Psalm week: 2. Liturgical Colour: White.
Other saints: Saint Laserian or Molaise (- 639)
Ireland
He was born in Ireland, became a monk on Iona, and was ordained priest in Rome by St Gregory the Great. Returning to Ireland, he entered the monastery at Leighlin, of which he became abbot a few years before his death. He was active in promoting harmony between the Celtic and Roman churches, notably in the matter of the date on which Easter should be celebrated.
Other saints: Blessed Marie-Anne Blondin (1809-1890)
Canada
Other saints: Bl Mary of the Incarnation
18 Apr (where celebrated)
Today's gospel reading: John 6:16-21 They saw Jesus walking on the lake
When evening came, the disciples of Jesus went down to the lake, got into a boat, and started across the lake to Capernaum. It was now dark, and Jesus had not yet come to them. The lake became rough because a strong wind was blowing. When they had rowed about three or four miles, they saw Jesus walking on the lake and coming near the boat, and they were frightened. But he said to them, ‘It is I; do not be afraid.’ Then they were glad to take him into the boat, and immediately the boat was at the land to which they were going.
Reflection on the engraving
There is something in all of us that longs for “the other side.” We think the grass is greener on the other side. We want to explore new shores... and it can make us restless. Like the disciples crossing the Sea of Galilee, we sense we are not meant to stay where we are; we are drawn forward, called onward, invited to a new shore. And yet, the moment we set out, the waters are rarely calm. Winds rise. The sea grows restless. Darkness gathers. Every new step, every new calling, every new job, every new house we move into, every change seems to bring with it resistance, uncertainty, even fear. we are excited on one hand, but on the other hand we are afraid.
It is precisely there, in the middle of the struggle, in the middle of the changes that Christ comes. Not when all is calm, but when the waves are high. Not in the brightness of certainty, but in the obscurity of night. He comes towards us and speaks those same quiet words: “It is I. Do not be afraid.” And somehow, when we recognise His presence and when we realise He is already in the storm with us, the whole journey changes. The distance shortens. The far shore no longer feels unreachable. Maybe the goal of the storms was never simply to arrive… but to discover that He is with us every step of the way.
Gustave Doré’s hand-coloured engraving, circa 1870, imagines the scene from Christ’s own vantage point: from close to the shore. He sees the small boat of the disciples tossed in the distance, and he sets off walking on the waters. And yet, having stood myself by the Sea of Galilee, only about 21 km long and 13 km wide, you realise how slightly odd today's reading is. The Sea of Galilee is not an ocean. At no point are you ever truly far from land. And still… the disciples truly panicked. This tells us maybe something interesting: even on a small lake, fear can feel immense. Even when the shore is near, it can seem out of reach. Even the smallest events in our lives can unsettle us, making us feel as though we are caught in a storm at sea, when in reality, the shore is closer than we think. The disciples were close to safety, and yet overwhelmed. And it is precisely there, in that gap between reality and fear, that Christ sees them… and comes towards them... and towards us.Gustave Doré’s hand-coloured engraving, circa 1870, imagines the scene from Christ’s own vantage point: from close to the shore. He sees the small boat of the disciples tossed in the distance, and he sets off walking on the waters. And yet, having stood myself by the Sea of Galilee, only about 21 km long and 13 km wide, you realise how slightly odd today's reading is. The Sea of Galilee is not an ocean. At no point are you ever truly far from land. And still… the disciples truly panicked. This tells us maybe something interesting: even on a small lake, fear can feel immense. Even when the shore is near, it can seem out of reach. Even the smallest events in our lives can unsettle us, making us feel as though we are caught in a storm at sea, when in reality, the shore is closer than we think. The disciples were close to safety, and yet overwhelmed. And it is precisely there, in that gap between reality and fear, that Christ sees them… and comes towards them... and towards us.
Jesus Walks on Water,
Engraving by Gustave Doré (1832–1883),
Engraved between 1866-1870,
Hand-coloured print
© Alamy
Saturday of the 2nd week of Eastertide
The Lord has truly risen, alleluia.
Year: A(II). Psalm week: 2. Liturgical Colour: White.
Other saints: Saint Laserian or Molaise (- 639)
Ireland
He was born in Ireland, became a monk on Iona, and was ordained priest in Rome by St Gregory the Great. Returning to Ireland, he entered the monastery at Leighlin, of which he became abbot a few years before his death. He was active in promoting harmony between the Celtic and Roman churches, notably in the matter of the date on which Easter should be celebrated.
Other saints: Blessed Marie-Anne Blondin (1809-1890)
Canada
Other saints: Bl Mary of the Incarnation
18 Apr (where celebrated)
Today's gospel reading: John 6:16-21 They saw Jesus walking on the lake
When evening came, the disciples of Jesus went down to the lake, got into a boat, and started across the lake to Capernaum. It was now dark, and Jesus had not yet come to them. The lake became rough because a strong wind was blowing. When they had rowed about three or four miles, they saw Jesus walking on the lake and coming near the boat, and they were frightened. But he said to them, ‘It is I; do not be afraid.’ Then they were glad to take him into the boat, and immediately the boat was at the land to which they were going.
Reflection on the engraving
There is something in all of us that longs for “the other side.” We think the grass is greener on the other side. We want to explore new shores... and it can make us restless. Like the disciples crossing the Sea of Galilee, we sense we are not meant to stay where we are; we are drawn forward, called onward, invited to a new shore. And yet, the moment we set out, the waters are rarely calm. Winds rise. The sea grows restless. Darkness gathers. Every new step, every new calling, every new job, every new house we move into, every change seems to bring with it resistance, uncertainty, even fear. we are excited on one hand, but on the other hand we are afraid.
It is precisely there, in the middle of the struggle, in the middle of the changes that Christ comes. Not when all is calm, but when the waves are high. Not in the brightness of certainty, but in the obscurity of night. He comes towards us and speaks those same quiet words: “It is I. Do not be afraid.” And somehow, when we recognise His presence and when we realise He is already in the storm with us, the whole journey changes. The distance shortens. The far shore no longer feels unreachable. Maybe the goal of the storms was never simply to arrive… but to discover that He is with us every step of the way.
Gustave Doré’s hand-coloured engraving, circa 1870, imagines the scene from Christ’s own vantage point: from close to the shore. He sees the small boat of the disciples tossed in the distance, and he sets off walking on the waters. And yet, having stood myself by the Sea of Galilee, only about 21 km long and 13 km wide, you realise how slightly odd today's reading is. The Sea of Galilee is not an ocean. At no point are you ever truly far from land. And still… the disciples truly panicked. This tells us maybe something interesting: even on a small lake, fear can feel immense. Even when the shore is near, it can seem out of reach. Even the smallest events in our lives can unsettle us, making us feel as though we are caught in a storm at sea, when in reality, the shore is closer than we think. The disciples were close to safety, and yet overwhelmed. And it is precisely there, in that gap between reality and fear, that Christ sees them… and comes towards them... and towards us.Gustave Doré’s hand-coloured engraving, circa 1870, imagines the scene from Christ’s own vantage point: from close to the shore. He sees the small boat of the disciples tossed in the distance, and he sets off walking on the waters. And yet, having stood myself by the Sea of Galilee, only about 21 km long and 13 km wide, you realise how slightly odd today's reading is. The Sea of Galilee is not an ocean. At no point are you ever truly far from land. And still… the disciples truly panicked. This tells us maybe something interesting: even on a small lake, fear can feel immense. Even when the shore is near, it can seem out of reach. Even the smallest events in our lives can unsettle us, making us feel as though we are caught in a storm at sea, when in reality, the shore is closer than we think. The disciples were close to safety, and yet overwhelmed. And it is precisely there, in that gap between reality and fear, that Christ sees them… and comes towards them... and towards us.
Jesus Walks on Water,
Engraving by Gustave Doré (1832–1883),
Engraved between 1866-1870,
Hand-coloured print
© Alamy