Matthew 4:12-23 When Jesus Passes By

Year A, 3rd Sunday in Ordinary Time

My dear brothers and sisters in Christ, today’s Gospel begins in a moment of darkness. John the Baptist has been arrested. Hope seems to be shrinking. Fear is in the air. And it is there—not in a moment of celebration—that Jesus begins his ministry.

Jesus does not wait for the world to become peaceful or perfect. He steps into Galilee, a place known more for struggle than success, and Scripture tells us that “a great light has dawned.” This is how God works. Light does not come because darkness disappears; light comes into the darkness.

Then Jesus begins to walk. Not through palaces or holy places, but along the shore of a lake. And as he walks, he sees people living ordinary lives—men with tired hands, rough nets, and unfinished work. They are not searching for him. He is searching for them.

He stops. He looks. And he speaks just two words: “Follow me.”

They leave their nets behind—not because they are brave, but because they sense that staying would cost them more than leaving. Something in them knows that if they remain where they are, their hearts will slowly grow smaller. Following Jesus may be uncertain, but not following him would mean missing the life they were created for.

My dear brothers and sisters, Jesus still walks along the shores of our lives. He passes by us in our routines, in our struggles, in moments when we feel stuck, tired, or uncertain. And he calls—not loudly, not forcefully—but gently.

The “nets” we hold onto today may not be made of rope. They may be fear of change, regret from the past, habits we cannot seem to break, or the belief that we are not good enough. And yet Jesus does not wait for us to be ready. He simply calls us as we are.

The fishermen did not know where Jesus would lead them. They only knew who was calling them. And that was enough.

The Gospel ends by showing us what following Jesus looks like. He teaches. He proclaims hope. He heals. This is the road they chose—and this is the road we are invited to walk. Not a perfect road, but a meaningful one.

As we reflect on this Gospel during the week, let us listen quietly. Somewhere in our hearts, Jesus is passing by. Somewhere, he is calling our name. And maybe today, all he is asking of us is not a big leap—but one small step.

To let go a little. To trust a little more.

To follow him—one day at a time. Amen.

Your Co-Travelor

Fr. Leo