Wednesday after Epiphany

“Take Courage. It Is I”

We’re still in the days of Epiphany — days when the Church keeps reminding us that Jesus is being revealed, not just tous, but for us. And today, that revelation takes a very human shape: fear… and love.

St. John tells us in the first reading, “Perfect love drives out fear.” That’s one of those lines we hear so often that it can almost sound gentle or comforting — but John is saying something much stronger. He’s telling us that fear and love cannot occupy the same space for very long. One will eventually push the other out.

And then we turn to the Gospel.

The disciples are in the boat. Jesus is not with them. It’s night. The wind is against them. They’re doing exactly what He told them to do — and still they’re struggling. That detail matters. Their fear isn’t coming from disobedience or lack of effort. It comes from exhaustion, from uncertainty, from feeling alone in the dark.

And then Jesus comes to them — walking on the water.

Mark tells us they are terrified. Not relieved. Not comforted. Terrified. They think He’s a ghost. Fear has so taken hold of them that they can’t even recognize the presence of the One they love.

That’s when Jesus speaks — and His words are simple and powerful: “Take courage. It is I. Do not be afraid.”

In Greek, those words “It is I” are the same words God uses throughout Scripture when He reveals Himself. In other words, Jesus isn’t just saying, “It’s me, calm down.” He’s saying, “I am here. God is with you — even now, even here.”

And the moment He gets into the boat, the wind stops.

Notice something important: Jesus doesn’t calm the storm before He speaks. He speaks into their fear. He meets them in the middle of it.

That’s where the first reading comes back to us. St. John reminds us that fear has to do with punishment, with uncertainty, with not knowing where we stand. Love, on the other hand, gives us confidence — not because life is easy, but because we know we are not abandoned.

Epiphany reminds us that God does not reveal Himself from a distance. He steps into the night, onto the water, into the struggle. He draws close — even when we don’t recognize Him right away.

And that’s honest faith. Sometimes we trust. Sometimes we’re afraid. Sometimes we row and row and wonder why it’s so hard. And sometimes Jesus is closer than we think, speaking quietly into the wind we can’t control.

St. Augustine once said, “Where there is love, there is no room for fear.” Not because fear never shows up — but because love refuses to let fear have the final word.

So today, maybe the invitation is simple:
Where is the boat you’re in right now?
What wind is against you?
And can you hear Jesus saying — not loudly, not dramatically — but steadily: “Take courage. It is I. Do not be afraid.”

Because the God revealed at Epiphany is not just the God of light and glory —
He is the God who comes to us in the dark,
who steps into our fear,
and whose love, slowly but surely, still calms the storm.