3rd Sunday in Ordinary Time

To The Disciples of Jesus of the Epiphany 

Discipleship Begins When the Familiar Nets are Surrendered to the Unfamiliar Freedom of Christ 

The Gospel from today’s liturgy (Mathew 4:12-23) narrates the call of the first disciples who, along the lake of Galilee leave everything to follow Jesus. He had already met some of them, thanks to John the Baptist, and God had placed the seed of faith within them (John 1:35-39). So now, Jesus goes back to look for them where they live and work. The Lord always looks for us. The Lord always draws near to us, always. This time, he extends a direct call to them: Follow me! (Mathew 4:19). And immediately they left their nets and followed him (Mathew 4:20). Let’s take a moment to reflect on this scene. This is the moment of a decisive encounter with Jesus; one they would remember their entire lives and would be included in the Gospel. From then on, they follow Jesus. And in order to follow him, they leave. (Pope Francis, Angelus, 2023) 

Beloved Brothers and Sisters-In today’s Gospel (Matthew 4:12-23), we are invited to return to the shoreline of Galilee, to that ordinary place where life is usually measured by nets, boats, and daily labor. Yet it is precisely there—in the familiar rhythm of work and routine—that the extraordinary breaks in: Christ draws near. He does not wait for perfect readiness, nor does He call from a distance. He comes to the place where people live, where they struggle, where they earn their bread, and where their hearts quietly long for more. 

As Pope Francis reminds us, Jesus had already planted the seed of faith in some of these disciples through their earlier encounter with John the Baptist (John 1:35-39). But now the Lord returns—not as a passing visitor, but as the One who seeks, finds, and calls. And the heart of His call is simple, direct, and personal: Follow me. 

“The Net That Felt Like Safety”-A man once shared the story of a turning point in his life. He had been in the same job for nearly twenty years—steady income, familiar routines, predictable days. He knew the names, the systems, the people, the expectations. Even when he felt drained and unfulfilled, he told himself: At least it’s stable. At least I’m secure. It was not a dream, but it was safe. 

One afternoon, his young daughter came home from school with a drawing. In it, she sketched her father standing behind a fence. She colored the fence thick and dark, and on the other side she drew a wide-open field, bright with light. At the top she wrote, in clumsy handwriting: Daddy, why don’t you come out? 

He laughed at first—but later that night he could not stop thinking about it. He realized that the fence in her picture was not only a fence. It was his net: the thing he held onto because it felt like security, but quietly became a kind of prison. 

A few weeks later, he applied for a new position—something more challenging, less predictable, and closer to the calling he had ignored for years. He admitted: I was terrified. But for the first time in a long time, I felt alive. Then he said something unforgettable: didn’t leave because I was certain. I left because I finally realized that staying was costing me more than leaving. 

The Lord Who Returns to Where We Live-Beloved brothers and sisters, the Gospel today does not begin with a theory about God, but with a movement: Jesus walks. He enters the ordinary geography of human life—shorelines, workspaces, routines, and weariness. He does not wait for the disciples to become worthy, polished, or prepared. He returns to the place where they are most themselves: their nets, their labor, their daily bread. This is the first theological shock of the passage: God is not distant. God is nearby. As Pope Francis reminds us: The Lord always looks for us. The Lord always draws near to us, always. The call of Christ is not an interruption of life, but the revelation that life itself has been waiting for Him. 

The Nets: What We Hold to Avoid Being Held-Along the lake of Galilee, the disciples are not doing anything sinful. They are fishing. They are being responsible. They are maintaining stability. And yet, Christ calls them precisely there—not because the nets are evil, but because the nets have become sufficient. 

Here we find a philosophical truth: Often the greatest obstacle to transformation is not sin, but familiarity. Not rebellion, but comfort. Not hatred of God, but self-management without God. The nets symbolize everything we cling to because it gives us control: our routines that protect us from silence; our identities that keep us from vulnerability; our certainties that keep us from conversion; our coping mechanisms that imitate peace but cannot give it. The nets are not merely objects in the disciples’ hands. They are a way of life that whispers: Stay who you are. Be safe. Do not risk becoming new. And Christ, in mercy, disturbs that illusion. 

“Follow Me”: The Call That Is Not an idea but a Person-Jesus does not say: Improve yourselves. He does not say: Understand the doctrine first. He does not say: Fix your life and then come. He says two words that reconfigure everything: Follow me. This is not first of all moral. It is ontological. Discipleship is not primarily a project we undertake, but a Person who claims us. 

Philosophically speaking, we are not fully human until we are addressed—until our life becomes a response. The deepest freedom is not the freedom to invent ourselves endlessly, but the freedom to finally answer the One who knows us truly. Christ does not give the disciples a map. He gives them His presence. To follow Jesus is to accept that the meaning of life is no longer self-generated, but received. 

The Immediate Response: The Courage to Leave Without Seeing-Matthew tells us something astonishing: Immediately they left their nets and followed him. This immediately is not impulsiveness—it is clarity. It is what happens when the human heart recognizes the voice it was made to hear. Notice: they do not leave because they have all the answers. They leave because they have encountered the Answer. This is the paradox of faith: Christ does not remove the risk; He redeems it. He does not eliminate uncertainty; He fills it with His fidelity. Discipleship is not the replacement of fear with information. It is the replacement of fear with trust. They surrender what is familiar—not because it is worthless, but because it is too small to contain what God desires to give them. 

The Unfamiliar Freedom of Christ-Here is the heart of today’s Gospel and of our theme: Discipleship begins when the familiar nets are surrendered to the unfamiliar freedom of Christ. The freedom Christ offers is unfamiliar because it does not feel like the world’s freedom. The world says: You are free when no one can claim you. Christ says: You are free when Love claims you. The world says: You are free when you keep your options open. Christ says: You are free when you give yourself away. The world says: You are free when nothing costs you. Christ says: You are free when you finally become capable of sacrifice. This unfamiliar freedom is not permission to do whatever we want. It is the grace to become who we are. Because in Christ, freedom is not aimlessness. Freedom is communion. 

A Decisive Encounter: The Moment That Becomes Gospel-Pope Francis describes this call as a decisive encounter—one the disciples would remember forever, and one that would be written into the Gospel itself. That is deeply important. Not every day becomes Scripture. Not every moment becomes Gospel. But there are moments in life when eternity presses into time—when the Lord’s gaze meets ours, and everything in us knows: This is the hour. This is the call. This is the turning point. And that is why discipleship is never abstract. It is always concrete: a decision, a surrender, a step forward, an obedience, and a leaving behind. The Gospel is not merely something we read. It is something God writes into us. 

Our Nets Today: What Must Be Left So We Can Follow-Brothers and sisters, the Lord still walks along the shoreline of our lives. And He still calls. But the question remains: what are our nets? Perhaps our nets are: the need to be in control, the fear of failure, the addiction to approval, the comfort of how things have always been, a hidden discouragement that says: I cannot change, a sin we tolerate because it feels familiar, and a vocation we resist because it feels too great. 

And Jesus does not shame us for having nets. He simply says: Do not mistake your net for your destiny. Because what you hold in your hands is not as important as the One who holds your life. 

Cumulative Summary –In today’s Gospel, Jesus returns to the shores of ordinary life and calls the first disciples where they live and work, revealing that God always draws near. Their nets symbolize the familiar securities we cling to—routines, control, identity, and comfort—that can quietly limit our capacity for conversion. 

Christ’s command: Follow me, is not merely an ethical invitation but a personal summons into a new way of being and belonging. The disciples respond immediately, not because they have all the answers, but because they have encountered the One who is the Answer. True discipleship begins when we surrender what feels safe and predictable, trusting the unfamiliar freedom of Christ. 

The Gospel thus becomes a decisive encounter that rewrites our lives into a living response to Jesus. In leaving their nets, the disciples do not lose themselves—they finally find their true vocation in Him. 

Concluding Words: Leaving to Learn How to Live- today, Christ passes by again—not only in the Gospel story, but in the living present of your life. He comes close. He looks. He calls. And the call is not first to do more, but to follow. Not first to accomplish, but to surrender. Not first to prove ourselves, but to trust. So let us ask for the grace of those first disciples: not a dramatic heroism, but a simple, holy immediacy. Lord Jesus, give us the courage to let go of what is familiar, so that we may receive the unfamiliar freedom of Your love. And may our whole life become Gospel—a response to Your voice, a path behind Your footsteps, and a net no longer for fish, but for souls drawn into the Kingdom of God. 

Fraternally, 
Fr. John Peter Lazaar SAC, Pastor