Worship - 9 August 2026

Summary Of This Week's Theme

There’s a lady who occasionally worships with us in Menorca who once astonished her grandchildren by learning to windsurf at what we might politely describe as a fairly advanced age.  It may not compare with Jesus walking on the water in the middle of a storm, but it was certainly an act of faith overcoming fear.

Fear is a useful gift.  It keeps us from foolish risks.  But fear can also become our prison, preventing us from growing into the people God calls us to be.

And there is no shortage of reasons to be afraid.  Wars continue in Ukraine and the Middle East. Wildfires consume vast areas of Europe and North America.  Climate change, economic uncertainty, migration, and the lingering memory of the pandemic all leave many people feeling vulnerable.  Even in the Church we can become anxious as congregations grow smaller.

C. S. Lewis, in The Screwtape Letters, has the senior devil Screwtape observe: ‘Hatred is often the compensation by which a frightened man reimburses himself for the miseries of fear. The more he fears, the more he will hate.’  Fear, left unchecked, so easily turns into resentment, prejudice, and division.

The theologian Karl Barth described fear as ‘the anticipation of a supposedly certain defeat.’  We spend so much of life trying to secure ourselves against what might happen that we forget where our true security lies.

The disciples knew that feeling.  They had experienced the exhilaration of feeding the five thousand, only to find themselves later struggling against wind and waves while Jesus was absent.  Matthew's story is about more than one storm on the Sea of Galilee.  It is also a picture of the Church, battered by opposition and uncertainty, discovering that its strength comes not from itself but from Christ.

Leonard Cohen captures something similar in Suzanne: only drowning people recognise Jesus walking upon the water.  Those who know their weakness are often the first to recognise their need of grace.  Christ meets us not when we are self-sufficient but when our own resources have run out.

Fear is like spiritual gravity: it pulls us down.  Faith lifts our eyes higher, towards Christ.  We may not always reach as high as we hope, but we will go much further than fear alone would ever allow.

So enjoy the sunshine when life is calm, but don't fear the storms when they come.  Keep watch for the figure approaching across the troubled waters.  He still comes to frightened disciples, saying, ‘Take heart; it is I. Do not be afraid.’  And if, in response, we find ourselves learning to windsurf as a grandparent - well, perhaps that too is a sign of faith.