“Come, follow me . . .”
Isaiah 8:23–9:3; 1 Corinthians 1:10–13, 17; Matthew 4:12–23
One thing is absolutely certain: God’s call to discipleship has no age limit, no social restriction, and no expiration date.
In the first reading, the prophet Isaiah speaks of a people who walked in darkness but have now seen a great light. God does not wait for perfection before calling; He enters history precisely where darkness, fear, and uncertainty reign.
Samuel was called as a young child, still learning how to recognize the voice of God. In today’s Gospel, grown men—workers, fishermen, providers, parents—are called in the midst of their daily responsibilities. God calls children and adults, the young and the old, the educated and the simple, the secure and the struggling. No one is excluded from God’s invitation. And the message entrusted to all who are called is strikingly simple and urgent: “Repent, for the Kingdom of God is at hand.”
The Kingdom is not a distant reality, not something postponed until the end of time. It is near. It is among us. It demands a response—now. Yet the Gospel does not soften the cost of responding. Jesus calls Simon and Andrew, James and John, and the text tells us plainly: they left their nets… they left their father… and followed him. This language of “leaving” or “abandoning” is unsettling. It makes us uncomfortable because it touches our deepest fears and attachments.
And so we ask: What kind of God asks people to abandon their work, their security, and even their families in order to follow Him? Is God against hard work? Is He against providing for one’s family? Is He indifferent to emotional bonds, responsibilities, and human love? How can anyone live without a salary, without stability, without the presence of loved ones?
Let us be clear: this is not the God of the Scriptures. The God who says, “Be fruitful and multiply” (Genesis 1:28), the God who says, “By the sweat of your brow you shall eat” (Genesis 3:17), the God who commands, “Honour your father and your mother” (Exodus 20:12), is not suddenly contradicting Himself in the Gospel. God neither despises work nor does He reject family life. God does not glorify irresponsibility. So what, then, does Jesus mean?
The “abandonment” Jesus calls for is not a rejection of relationships or responsibilities, but a reordering of priorities. It is the decision to place God first—above career, above comfort, above social approval, above even the most precious human ties—when these begin to compete with fidelity to the Gospel. In other words, nothing and no one must take the place of God. This is where the Gospel becomes demanding—not because it asks the impossible, but because it asks for conversion of the heart.
This leads us to the most important and uncomfortable question of all, one that today’s readings place squarely before us: What have we done with our promises? Our baptismal promises—when we renounced Satan, sin, and empty promises. Our wedding vows—when we pledged fidelity, sacrifice, and self-giving love. Our ordination or religious promises—when we offered our lives for service and mission. Promises are easy to make in moments of grace. They are harder to live when they demand sacrifice.
St. Paul, in the second reading, warns the Corinthians about divisions, rivalries, and self-interest within the Church. These divisions arise when Christ is no longer at the center—when personal preference, status, ideology, or comfort replaces the Cross. A divided Church is always the result of divided loyalties to something other than Christ. Evangelization, therefore, does not begin with eloquent preaching or impressive programs. It begins with the witness of a transformed life. Before we speak about Christ, we must reflect Him. Before we proclaim the Gospel, we must live it.
And so we must ask ourselves honestly: Can I stand up for my faith when it is unpopular? Can I remain faithful when it costs me friendships, promotions, or comfort? Can I choose truth over convenience, integrity over advantage, the Gospel over social approval? Can people look at my life—my choices, my words, my priorities—and say, “This person truly belongs to Christ”?
Let us not deceive ourselves: true disciples of Christ always encounter resistance. Sometimes, it comes from society; sometimes, from colleagues, or even painfully—from family members and friends. Not because Christians are better than others, but because a life shaped by the Gospel exposes the emptiness of purely worldly values.
This is the real meaning of “abandonment” in today’s Gospel. It is not running away from the world, but refusing to be shaped by it. It is not rejecting relationships, but refusing to compromise faith for acceptance. It is not losing everything, but gaining a new way of seeing and living.
So the final question remains, and it is one only you and I can answer: What image does my life project to others? Does it point toward the Kingdom of God—or away from it? Even today, Christ once again walks along the shore of our lives. He looks at us—not as we wish we were, but as we are—and He says: “Come, follow me.”
Assignment for the Week :
Let us pray for the courage not only to hear God’s call, but to respond with our whole lives.