This Sunday, August 9, we celebrate the feast of our foundress, Saint Candida Maria of Jesus. Since it is Sunday, the readings from the Liturgy of the Word for the day take precedence over the readings specific to the feast; therefore, this year in particular, we are invited to pray with the Sunday Gospel, which tells the story of Peter walking on the water.
At the same time, having grown so accustomed to reflecting on the passage from Matthew for the feast of Saint Candida—which extols humility and smallness—we can do nothing today but bring these two passages together into a single invitation: that of trusting in God from our own smallness.
A gospel that teaches us to walk on the impossible
Matthew’s account (14:22–33) takes place at night, with the disciples rowing against the wind in a boat tossed about by the waves. It is Jesus who approaches, walking on the water, and it is Peter who dares to ask, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you, walking on the water.” Jesus answers him with a single word: “Come.”
Peter walks while keeping his eyes fixed on Jesus. But as soon as he feels the force of the wind, he hesitates, and then he begins to sink and cries out, “Save me, Lord!” And Jesus’ response is not a rebuke that pushes him away, but a hand that holds him up: “Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and held him.”
It is not Peter’s strength that keeps him afloat on the water. It is his trust—fragile, wavering, but real—in the One who calls him, and the real and close presence of Christ, whether we see Him or not, whether we feel Him or not.
The Gospel reading for the feast of Saint Candida: the revelation to the little ones
The Gospel reading assigned by the Church for the feast of Saint Candida (Matthew 11:25–30) offers us the key to interpreting that same scene from a different perspective. Jesus gives thanks to the Father because He has hidden these things from the wise and learned and revealed them to the little ones. It is not wisdom or one’s own strength that opens the way to God’s revelation, but the simplicity of those who know they are little.
This is precisely the spirituality that Saint Candida lived and left us as a legacy: simple, childlike trust in God; the certainty that it is He who acts and sustains us; and that our smallness—far from being an obstacle—is the place where His strength is revealed.
Walking on Water from a Place of Humility
When we place both Gospels side by side, the same path emerges. What enables Peter to walk on the water is not his courage or his ability, but his trust in the voice that calls him. And what Jesus exclaims with gratitude—that it is revealed to the little ones—is not a reward for their merits, but a free gift received with open hands by those who have nothing to offer but their willingness.
Saint Candida knew how to walk this way: on choppy waters, against headwinds, sustained not by her own strength but by her trust in God. Her smallness became the space where God could act powerfully, just as He did with Peter when He reached out His hand to him.
Today, as we celebrate his feast day, the Church invites us to do the same: not to be paralyzed by fear in the face of headwinds, but to hear the same word that Peter heard—“Come”—and to take the first step, trusting that, even if we doubt and begin to sink, there is a hand that always holds us up.
It may help to ask ourselves, Am I facing a stormy sea at this point in my life? What am I experiencing specifically? Which of Jesus’ words “saves me”? What simple aspect of my life is a source of joy and thanksgiving for Jesus on my behalf?
Prayers for Today
As an aid to personal or communal prayer, we suggest listening to *La barca y el mar* by our friends at Ruah, which musically recreates this very scene from the Gospel.
The songbook that accompanies the song introduces the theme by reminding us that living with depth is, in a way, navigating uncertainty: we are like small boats tossed about on an unpredictable sea, and precisely there, in the midst of that fragility, there is a love that sustains us and keeps us moving forward. The text itself captures an insight that sheds light on our celebration: God does not always spare us from the storm, but He always saves us in the storm.
The song asks where God is in the midst of the storm; perhaps it is the same question that, in her humility, Mother Candida asked herself so many times: not the certainty that dispels doubt, but the trust that sustains us in the midst of it, the assurance that God dwells both in the boat and in the sea, both in our fragility and in the strength that enables us to walk on the impossible.
Happy Saint Candida’s Day!
May we, like her, recognize on this day how small we are before God and discover in that smallness not a weakness, but the place from which He makes us strong. May her example encourage us to step out of the boat, to walk with simplicity and confidence upon the waters that lie before us today, knowing that, even when the wind is against us, there is a hand always ready to hold us up. Happy Feast Day of Saint Candida Maria of Jesus!
