“Come after me, and I will make you fishers of men.”

The call of Jesus in today’s Gospel is brief, direct, and demanding. There is no long explanation, no promise of comfort or security, only an invitation and a future shaped by trust: “Come after me.” Yet this simple call carries the power to reorder lives, reorient desires, and transform ordinary people into instruments of God’s saving work. The First Reading introduces us to Hannah, a woman whose heart is heavy with silent suffering. Childless and ridiculed, she carries a pain that words cannot fully express. Yet, year after year, she goes up to the house of the Lord. She does not abandon worship, even when her prayers seem unanswered. Hannah’s faith is quiet but persevering. Her life teaches us that following God often begins long before clarity or fulfillment arrives. Like the disciples by the sea, Hannah remains faithful in the place where God has planted her, trusting that God sees beyond her present barrenness. The psalm echoes the response of a grateful heart: “To you, Lord, I will offer a sacrifice of praise.” True discipleship always grows out of gratitude. When we recognize what the Lord has done, loosening our bonds, lifting our burdens, sustaining us in trial, we are moved not merely to words, but to offering our very lives in return. Praise becomes the language of a heart that knows it belongs to God. In the Gospel, Jesus steps into ordinary human history, along the shore, into the rhythm of daily work, and issues a radical invitation. Simon, Andrew, James, and John are not in the synagogue or at prayer; they are casting and mending nets. Yet it is precisely there that Jesus calls them. He does not ask them to escape the world, but to follow him more deeply within it. By leaving their nets, they leave behind not only a livelihood, but a way of defining themselves. In following Jesus, they entrust their future to him. To be a “fisher of men” is not about technique or persuasion; it is about presence and witness. It is about drawing others toward life, hope, and truth by the way we live and love. Like Hannah, disciples may carry pain; like the fishermen, they may be called suddenly and without full understanding. But the promise remains: if we follow, Jesus himself will shape us, form us, and use us for the building of God’s Kingdom. Today, Jesus still walks along the shores of our lives. He calls us in our waiting, our work, our wounds, and our routines. The question is not whether we are worthy, but whether we are willing—to leave our nets, to trust his word, and to follow where he leads.