About Today
Friday 9 January 2026
9 January
Christ has appeared to us: come, let us adore him.
Year: A(II). Psalm week: 2. Liturgical Colour: White.
Other saints: St Adrian of Canterbury (d. 710)
Kenya, Southern Africa
Feeling called to the monastic life, Adrian left his native North Africa and joined the Benedictines in Italy. Renowned for his scholarship and holiness, he was elected abbot of his monastery and later nominated archbishop of Canterbury. Out of humility he declined the appointment to archbishop, but volunteered to go to England as a missionary. He endured various trials and even imprisonment on his journey to Canterbury, since he was taken for a spy. Once in England, he was appointed abbot of the monastery of Sts Peter and Paul where he lived for 39 years, actively involved in preaching and education. He died in 710.
Other saints: St Andrew Corsini (c.1315-1374)
9 Jan (where celebrated)
Other saints: The Translation of the Black Nazarene
Philippines
He came to them, walking on the sea
Gospel; Mark 6:45-52
After the five thousand had eaten and were satisfied: Immediately Jesus made his disciples get into the boat and go before him to the other side, to Bethsaida, while he dismissed the crowd. And after he had taken leave of them, he went up on the mountain to pray. And when evening came, the boat was out on the sea, and he was alone on the land. And he saw that they were making headway painfully, for the wind was against them. And about the fourth watch of the night he came to them, walking on the sea. He meant to pass by them, but when they saw him walking on the sea they thought it was a ghost, and cried out, for they all saw him and were terrified. But immediately he spoke to them and said, ‘Take heart; it is I. Do not be afraid.’ And he got into the boat with them, and the wind ceased. And they were utterly astounded, for they did not understand about the loaves, but their hearts were hardened.
The Gospels frequently show Jesus withdrawing to pray, and in today’s reading from Mark we glimpse one of those moments. After the intensity of feeding the great crowd, which we read yesterday, Jesus retreats to the hills, seeking stillness and communion with his Father. Yet this withdrawal is not an escape from the world. From his place of prayer, Jesus remains deeply attentive to what is happening below: he sees his disciples struggling at sea, exhausted, pushing against a fierce headwind. Prayer, for Jesus, sharpens awareness rather than dulling it. Prayer is not escaping; prayer is engaging with goes on around us. Prayer opens hearts even more fully to the reality of others, especially to those who are struggling.
And so Jesus leaves the mountain and goes to them, crossing the water with words that steady their fear: “Take heart; it is I. Do not be afraid.” Mark quietly suggests that true prayer never isolates us. To pray is to be drawn into God’s loving attentiveness to others. That is why so much of our prayer becomes prayer for others. Authentic prayer deepens communion in two directions at once: with God, and with all those who, like the disciples in the boat, are battling the winds and waves of life. Thus prayer always moves us 'outward' of ourselves.
You would be hard-pressed to find many medieval, Renaissance, or even Baroque paintings of Jesus walking on the sea, and that scarcity is very surprising given how vivid the Gospel episode is. Earlier Christian art tended to favour moments that were either doctrinally clarifying (the Nativity, the Crucifixion, the Resurrection). A nocturnal scene on open water was maybe theologically challenging: is the focus on Christ, on the terrified disciples, or on the threatening forces of nature? Who knows? As a result, Mark 6:45–52 rarely entered the canon of “safe” Old Master subjects. This changes dramatically in the nineteenth century, when Romanticism and later modern movements become fascinated by the sublime, by mystery, emotion, fear, and the individual’s confrontation with overwhelming forces. The stormy sea becomes a perfect stage for exploring faith under pressure and Christ’s mysterious, almost uncanny presence. Contemporary artists continue this trajectory, including our artist Yongsung Kim, wou would be hard-pressed to find many medieval, Renaissance, or even Baroque paintings of Jesus walking on the sea, and that scarcity is very surprising given how vivid the Gospel episode is. Earlier Christian art tended to favour moments that were either doctrinally clarifying (the Nativity, the Crucifixion, the Resurrection). A nocturnal scene on open water was maybe theologically challenging: is the focus on Christ, on the terrified disciples, or on the threatening forces of nature? Who knows? As a result, Mark 6:45–52 rarely entered the canon of “safe” Old Master subjects. This changes dramatically in the nineteenth century, when Romanticism and later modern movements become fascinated by the sublime, by mystery, emotion, fear, and the individual’s confrontation with overwhelming forces. The stormy sea becomes a perfect stage for exploring faith under pressure and Christ’s mysterious, almost uncanny presence. Contemporary artists continue this trajectory, including our artist Yongsung Kim, who offers a modern, deeply contemplative reading of the scene.ho offers a modern, deeply contemplative reading of the scene.ou would be hard-pressed to find many medieval, Renaissance, or even Baroque paintings of Jesus walking on the sea, and that scarcity is very surprising given how vivid the Gospel episode is. Earlier Christian art tended to favour moments that were either doctrinally clarifying (the Nativity, the Crucifixion, the Resurrection). A nocturnal scene on open water was maybe theologically challenging: is the focus on Christ, on the terrified disciples, or on the threatening forces of nature? Who knows? As a result, Mark 6:45–52 rarely entered the canon of “safe” Old Master subjects. This changes dramatically in the nineteenth century, when Romanticism and later modern movements become fascinated by the sublime, by mystery, emotion, fear, and the individual’s confrontation with overwhelming forces. The stormy sea becomes a perfect stage for exploring faith under pressure and Christ’s mysterious, almost uncanny presence. Contemporary artists continue this trajectory, including our artist Yongsung Kim, who offers a modern, deeply contemplative reading of the scene.
King of Glory,
Painting by Yongsung Kim,
Painted in 2021,
Oil on canvas
© Yongsung Kim, all right reserved / Havenlight
9 January
Christ has appeared to us: come, let us adore him.
Year: A(II). Psalm week: 2. Liturgical Colour: White.
Other saints: St Adrian of Canterbury (d. 710)
Kenya, Southern Africa
Feeling called to the monastic life, Adrian left his native North Africa and joined the Benedictines in Italy. Renowned for his scholarship and holiness, he was elected abbot of his monastery and later nominated archbishop of Canterbury. Out of humility he declined the appointment to archbishop, but volunteered to go to England as a missionary. He endured various trials and even imprisonment on his journey to Canterbury, since he was taken for a spy. Once in England, he was appointed abbot of the monastery of Sts Peter and Paul where he lived for 39 years, actively involved in preaching and education. He died in 710.
Other saints: St Andrew Corsini (c.1315-1374)
9 Jan (where celebrated)
Other saints: The Translation of the Black Nazarene
Philippines
He came to them, walking on the sea
Gospel; Mark 6:45-52
After the five thousand had eaten and were satisfied: Immediately Jesus made his disciples get into the boat and go before him to the other side, to Bethsaida, while he dismissed the crowd. And after he had taken leave of them, he went up on the mountain to pray. And when evening came, the boat was out on the sea, and he was alone on the land. And he saw that they were making headway painfully, for the wind was against them. And about the fourth watch of the night he came to them, walking on the sea. He meant to pass by them, but when they saw him walking on the sea they thought it was a ghost, and cried out, for they all saw him and were terrified. But immediately he spoke to them and said, ‘Take heart; it is I. Do not be afraid.’ And he got into the boat with them, and the wind ceased. And they were utterly astounded, for they did not understand about the loaves, but their hearts were hardened.
Reflection on the paintingReflection on the painting
The Gospels frequently show Jesus withdrawing to pray, and in today’s reading from Mark we glimpse one of those moments. After the intensity of feeding the great crowd, which we read yesterday, Jesus retreats to the hills, seeking stillness and communion with his Father. Yet this withdrawal is not an escape from the world. From his place of prayer, Jesus remains deeply attentive to what is happening below: he sees his disciples struggling at sea, exhausted, pushing against a fierce headwind. Prayer, for Jesus, sharpens awareness rather than dulling it. Prayer is not escaping; prayer is engaging with goes on around us. Prayer opens hearts even more fully to the reality of others, especially to those who are struggling.
And so Jesus leaves the mountain and goes to them, crossing the water with words that steady their fear: “Take heart; it is I. Do not be afraid.” Mark quietly suggests that true prayer never isolates us. To pray is to be drawn into God’s loving attentiveness to others. That is why so much of our prayer becomes prayer for others. Authentic prayer deepens communion in two directions at once: with God, and with all those who, like the disciples in the boat, are battling the winds and waves of life. Thus prayer always moves us 'outward' of ourselves.
You would be hard-pressed to find many medieval, Renaissance, or even Baroque paintings of Jesus walking on the sea, and that scarcity is very surprising given how vivid the Gospel episode is. Earlier Christian art tended to favour moments that were either doctrinally clarifying (the Nativity, the Crucifixion, the Resurrection). A nocturnal scene on open water was maybe theologically challenging: is the focus on Christ, on the terrified disciples, or on the threatening forces of nature? Who knows? As a result, Mark 6:45–52 rarely entered the canon of “safe” Old Master subjects. This changes dramatically in the nineteenth century, when Romanticism and later modern movements become fascinated by the sublime, by mystery, emotion, fear, and the individual’s confrontation with overwhelming forces. The stormy sea becomes a perfect stage for exploring faith under pressure and Christ’s mysterious, almost uncanny presence. Contemporary artists continue this trajectory, including our artist Yongsung Kim, wou would be hard-pressed to find many medieval, Renaissance, or even Baroque paintings of Jesus walking on the sea, and that scarcity is very surprising given how vivid the Gospel episode is. Earlier Christian art tended to favour moments that were either doctrinally clarifying (the Nativity, the Crucifixion, the Resurrection). A nocturnal scene on open water was maybe theologically challenging: is the focus on Christ, on the terrified disciples, or on the threatening forces of nature? Who knows? As a result, Mark 6:45–52 rarely entered the canon of “safe” Old Master subjects. This changes dramatically in the nineteenth century, when Romanticism and later modern movements become fascinated by the sublime, by mystery, emotion, fear, and the individual’s confrontation with overwhelming forces. The stormy sea becomes a perfect stage for exploring faith under pressure and Christ’s mysterious, almost uncanny presence. Contemporary artists continue this trajectory, including our artist Yongsung Kim, who offers a modern, deeply contemplative reading of the scene.ho offers a modern, deeply contemplative reading of the scene.ou would be hard-pressed to find many medieval, Renaissance, or even Baroque paintings of Jesus walking on the sea, and that scarcity is very surprising given how vivid the Gospel episode is. Earlier Christian art tended to favour moments that were either doctrinally clarifying (the Nativity, the Crucifixion, the Resurrection). A nocturnal scene on open water was maybe theologically challenging: is the focus on Christ, on the terrified disciples, or on the threatening forces of nature? Who knows? As a result, Mark 6:45–52 rarely entered the canon of “safe” Old Master subjects. This changes dramatically in the nineteenth century, when Romanticism and later modern movements become fascinated by the sublime, by mystery, emotion, fear, and the individual’s confrontation with overwhelming forces. The stormy sea becomes a perfect stage for exploring faith under pressure and Christ’s mysterious, almost uncanny presence. Contemporary artists continue this trajectory, including our artist Yongsung Kim, who offers a modern, deeply contemplative reading of the scene.
King of Glory,
Painting by Yongsung Kim,
Painted in 2021,
Oil on canvas
© Yongsung Kim, all right reserved / Havenlight