The Second Sunday in Ordinary Time, January 18, 2026

John 1, 29–34

John the Baptist saw Jesus coming toward him and said, “Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world. He is the one of whom I said, ‘A man is coming after me who ranks ahead of me because he existed before me.’ I did not know him, but the reason why I came baptizing with water was that he might be made known to Israel.” John testified further, saying, “I saw the Spirit come down like a dove from heaven and remain upon him. I did not know him, but the one who sent me to baptize with water told me, ‘On whomever you see the Spirit come down and remain, he is the one who will baptize with the Holy Spirit.’ Now I have seen and testified that he is the Son of God.”

At the time the Lord Jesus walked the earth, John the Baptist alone fully understood that the Messiah promised by God through the Prophets would take away the sins of the world, dying a sacrificial death.  The Pharisees and the rabbis of the time did not understand this.  For them, the Messiah would free Jerusalem from the Romans and rule as the new King of Israel.  The Holy Spirit revealed this to John because John was fully open to the will of God.  The others had locked themselves in their fantasies.  When John declared, “Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world”, he was using a term not found in the Scriptures.  The term might have been understood as a lamb destined for sacrifice in the Temple, but to call it “the Lamb of God” would have sounded ridiculous.  It singles out a particular lamb for special notice while large numbers of sheep were sacrificed every day.  It made far less sense to speak of a man in this way.  The use of the phrase would certainly have caused people to stop what they were doing and listen to John to see what he meant by this novel combination of words.

First, John was designating a particular individual within his sight.  Second, he explained that it was of this man that he had spoken earlier: “A man is coming after me who ranks ahead of me because he existed before me.”  Now, we should keep in mind that Jesus was at that moment standing in the crowd or just on its fringe.  John proclaims, “I saw the Spirit come down like a dove from heaven and remain upon him.”  John here gives us his own description of the Baptism of the Lord.  It is from his words that we learn for certain that he, and not Jesus alone, saw the Holy Spirit descend upon him.  John would have proclaimed this to the crowd after watching in wonder as Jesus climbed out of the river onto the shore and disappeared into the crowd of people also seeking baptism.  Marveling at what had happened — the appearance of the Lord, his words, and the descent of the Holy Spirit — left John struggling for words.  “I did not know him.”  The Greek gives the sense of, I did not know that this was him.  Thus is fulfilled Isaiah 53, 2: “He had no form or comeliness that we should look at him, 

and no beauty that we should desire him.”  The Son of God makes himself so much like us that he has no distinguishing features.  He looks just like us.  This “lamb” looks like every other lamb.  Only the revelation by  “the one who sent me to baptize with water” identified him both as the One who was to come after him, and that he was the Lamb of God.  Further inspired by the Holy Spirit, John confesses, “Now I have seen and testified that he is the Son of God.”

We believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God through the gift of Faith given us by the Holy Spirit.  For so many people, he is no one, of no account.  In today’s society, he is hardly known at all.  He is just a meaningless face in the crowd, one lamb among thousands in a pasture.  Through the Holy Spirit, you and I are John the Baptist, pointing to him with our words and deeds.

Saturday in the First Week of Ordinary Time, January 17, 2026

Mark 2:13-17

Jesus went out along the sea. All the crowd came to him and he taught them. As he passed by, he saw Levi, son of Alphaeus, sitting at the customs post. Jesus said to him, “Follow me.” And he got up and followed Jesus. While he was at table in his house, many tax collectors and sinners sat with Jesus and his disciples; for there were many who followed him. Some scribes who were Pharisees saw that Jesus was eating with sinners and tax collectors and said to his disciples, “Why does he eat with tax collectors and sinners?” Jesus heard this and said to them, “Those who are well do not need a physician, but the sick do. I did not come to call the righteous but sinners.”

“Why does he eat with tax collectors and sinners?” When we read this question posed by the Pharisees, we are likely to put emphasis on “tax collectors and sinners”, as though it read: Why would he eat with them. But we can read the question another way, putting emphasis on “he”: Why does he, who performs miracles, eat with them? 

Throughout the first and second chapters of his Gospel, Mark reports that Jesus had performed many miracles in and around the city of Capernaum, including an exorcism within the synagogue. He had spent hours healing people who came from far and near, and had even proven that he possessed the power to forgive sins. Along with the sick, the blind, and the lame came the local Pharisees. They witnessed the healings, they heard the Lord preach, they asked questions about him and his origins. In the end they could not say who he was. He could not be the Messiah: “But we know this man, where he is from: but when the Christ comes, no man knows where he  comes from” (John 7, 27). Nor did he claim to be the Messiah — or anyone else. So they watched him carefully, this man of mystery and contradiction, this man of power.

Furthermore, he chose his disciples. But no teachers did that. A student who wanted to learn from a particular teacher would seek the man out and ask to learn from him. But here is Jesus picking his own students, and the least likely students: fishermen. And now he picks a tax collector. Just as astonishing, the tax collector agrees to be his student, giving up his lucrative tax collecting position.

And now this Jesus goes to eat at the tax collector’s house. The Pharisees note to their confusion and horror: “Why does he eat with tax collectors and sinners?” Why does this man of wisdom and divine power, choose to eat with these people? What could he want with them? What did his preference for fellowship say about him?

The Lord tells them: “Those who are well do not need a physician, but the sick do. I did not come to call the righteous but sinners.” This would have come to the Pharisees as incomprehensible babble. This man of power calls himself a physician and says that “he has come” to “call” the sick, the sinners. This was not the way justice worked, in their minds. A person who sinned must seek out help for himself, but here was Jesus who went to sinners in order to call them to repentance and who would forgive their sins. The Pharisees and the priests would walk by a sinner without a word, just as the Levite and the priest had walked by the robbed and wounded man whom the Good Samaritan healed.

We should be filled with awe that the Son of God has chosen us to follow him, to be joined to him through baptism, to receive him in Holy Communion. Who is he, indeed, who would do this for us?

Friday in the First Week of Ordinary Time, January 16, 2026

Mark 2, 1-12

When Jesus returned to Capernaum after some days, it became known that he was at home. Many gathered together so that there was no longer room for them, not even around the door, and he preached the word to them. They came bringing to him a paralytic carried by four men. Unable to get near Jesus because of the crowd, they opened up the roof above him. After they had broken through, they let down the mat on which the paralytic was lying. When Jesus saw their faith, he said to him, “Child, your sins are forgiven.” Now some of the scribes were sitting there asking themselves, “Why does this man speak that way? He is blaspheming. Who but God alone can forgive sins?” Jesus immediately knew in his mind what they were thinking to themselves, so he said, “Why are you thinking such things in your hearts? Which is easier, to say to the paralytic, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Rise, pick up your mat and walk’? But that you may know that the Son of Man has authority to forgive sins on earth” – he said to the paralytic, “I say to you, rise, pick up your mat, and go home.” He rose, picked up his mat at once, and went away in the sight of everyone. They were all astounded and glorified God, saying, “We have never seen anything like this.”

“Unable to get near Jesus because of the crowd, they opened up the roof above him.”  The initiative of the men carrying the paralytic on his mat is striking.  They persisted in their plan to bring him before the Lord even when they received no help or encouragement from those around them.  Not bothering to complain or make demands, they concentrated on what they wanted to do and accomplished it.  In this way, they acted as the man’s servants, whatever their actual relationship to him may have been.  The lazy servant stands around and makes excuses and complains at the slightest sign of difficulty.  He does not want to do his job and so looks for opportunities to give up and blame others for his failure.  But the industrious servant sees options and makes many attempts until his object is obtained.  This is the difference between the lost soul and the saint.  Jesus makes this clear in Matthew 25 when he gives the words of the damned at the time of their judgment: “Lord, when did we see you hungry and not feed you?”  The outlook of the saint is always, “Look at all the ways I can serve the Lord today!”

“When Jesus saw their faith.”  Now, you and I can see faith indirectly through the outward actions of a person, but even so we are making an assumption.  In this case, how would we know the men were not being paid a lot of money to help the paralytic in this case?  But the Lord Jesus “saw” or “recognized” their faith — that is, their belief that he could heal this man.  He looked into their hearts and saw what was truly there.  It seems very likely that they had come some distance because some days earlier, the Lord had healed all the sick in the town and its environs and then gone away to preach.  Word of his power traveled through the country meanwhile and over the course of days many who lived several miles away came across the country.  Thus, when Jesus “saw” the faith of the men who carried the paralytic, he saw them laboriously hauling him from a great distance for several days.  He saw their single-hearted devotion to this man.  He saw the suffering they had willingly endured for him.  It is as much for them as for the paralytic that the Lord did what he did next.

“Child, your sins are forgiven.” The paralytic was brought for the healing of his body, but the Lord grants the healing of his soul.  The paralytic asks for a crust of bread and the Lord provides him with a feast.  This reminds us of how the Lord fed the large crowds.  The people would have been more than satisfied with a little food, enough to strengthen them for their journey home.  And yet he offered them more than they could eat.  He shows his willingness to answer our prayers and even to go beyond them to answer those desires which we dare not voice even to ourselves.  In forgiving the man’s sins, the Lord also shows the higher nature of the soul than the body and how our care for our souls ought to greatly exceed that which we spend on our bodies.  The Lord’s restoration of the man’s ability to walk comes across in this account as almost incidental, and is accomplished mainly to provide the sign of the greater, inward, healing he has received. This marks the beginning of the Lord’s campaign to teach the meaning of sin, its affects on the soul, and our need of forgiveness — which can only come from him.  The scribes understood right away the point he was advancing and so they challenged him: “Who but God alone can forgive sins?”  While a good question, they should have thought a little deeper: Only God can heal a paralytic.  Is this God?  If this is God, then of course he can forgive sins.  But they looked at Jesus — not at his works — and decided he could not be God.

The people did not fully understand what had taken place, but they saw the work Jesus performed and wondered at it.  What did it mean?  What did this powerful deed say about the one who performed it? “They were all astounded and glorified God, saying, ‘We have never seen anything like this.’ ”  The crowd wondered, showing that they were ready for faith.

The man walked the long way home, carrying his mat.  He must have kept it with him the rest of his life so that he could remember his once helpless state and the One who had raised him from it.

Thursday in the First Week of Ordinary Time, January 15, 2026

Mark 1, 40–45

A leper came to Jesus and kneeling down begged him and said, “If you wish, you can make me clean.” Moved with pity, he stretched out his hand, touched him, and said to him, “I do will it. Be made clean.” The leprosy left him immediately, and he was made clean. Then, warning him sternly, he dismissed him at once.  He said to him, “See that you tell no one anything, but go, show yourself to the priest and offer for your cleansing what Moses prescribed; that will be proof for them.”  The man went away and began to publicize the whole matter. He spread the report abroad so that it was impossible for Jesus to enter a town openly. He remained outside in deserted places, and people kept coming to him from everywhere.

We find in this Reading the essential elements of the prayer of intercession, that form of prayer in which we ask God for something for ourselves or for others.  First, “A leper came to Jesus.”  The one in need comes to the Lord Jesus for the cure of his terrible affliction.  So often we find ourselves in need and we respond by going into denial about it, or we assume that somehow it will take care of itself.  “And kneeling down begged him.”  We do not go before the Lord as an equal or as in any way deserving of his help.  We recognize him in our hearts as the omnipotent God.  “If you wish, you can make me clean.”  We make our plea to him with all the need and emotion we have.  We do not attempt to bargain with him, make a claim on our perceived merit, or flatter him.  We do not engage in flights of rhetoric.  Our prayer must be direct, simple, and from the heart.  St. Mark quotes the leper without any description or comment, but we should not imagine him as speaking to the Lord in the calm way it appears on the page.  This was a desperate man, sick, friendless, ashamed, hungry, homeless.  His prayer is made with tears and groans.  He hides nothing of his suffering, but comes to the Lord ad he is.  He most likely is calling out to him from a certain distance.  “The leprosy left him immediately, and he was made clean.”  The Lord shows his power in his reply.  The answer to our prayer may not be apparent at first, but in our prayer we accept the answer he will give us, in the manner and at the time he chooses to give it to us.

The exchange between this leper and the Lord teaches us something else.  The leper says, “If you wish, you can make me clean.”  “If you wish” is not quite right.  The Greek has, “If you desire” or, “If you will”.  The leper poses his need to Jesus not as a matter of his power, but as a matter of his will, as if to say, “Your will be done.”  It is an acknowledgment of the supremacy of the divine will over all things and people.  It is also a confession of faith that the Lord can do whatever he wills.  And, finally, it is a sign that the leper will accept what the Lord’s will is for him.  The Lord replies, “I do will it. Be made clean.”  The Lord’s words indicate that he has only waited for the leper to approach him and to make his request before curing him.  That is, the Lord had an even greater desire to cure the man than the man had of being cured.

“Then, warning him sternly, he dismissed him at once.”  Jesus several times warns others against publicizing what he has done.  He will not accept testimony from just anyone.  Those whom he particularly warns he seems to regard as poor witnesses who would impede his work.  The Lord warns the demons he expels from telling people who he is — he will not be announced by them.  He also warns crowds who are only interested in a show of miracles not to tell about him because their stories will only attract others like themselves: people who will not listen to his teaching but who only want to see something novel.  In regards to this leper, we see how unreliable he is.  The Lord commands him to follow the law in regards to his cure, but he does not, and instead “he spread the report abroad”.  

We show ourselves as the Lord’s reliable witnesses by obeying his laws throughout our lives, and after praying for what we need, accepting his answer.

Wednesday in the first Week of Ordinary Time, January 14, 2026

Mark 1:29–39

On leaving the synagogue Jesus entered the house of Simon and Andrew with James and John. Simon’s mother-in-law lay sick with a fever. They immediately told him about her. He approached, grasped her hand, and helped her up. Then the fever left her and she waited on them. When it was evening, after sunset, they brought to him all who were ill or possessed by demons. The whole town was gathered at the door. He cured many who were sick with various diseases, and he drove out many demons, not permitting them to speak because they knew him. Rising very early before dawn, he left and went off to a deserted place, where he prayed. Simon and those who were with him pursued him and on finding him said, “Everyone is looking for you.” He told them, “Let us go on to the nearby villages that I may preach there also. For this purpose have I come.” So he went into their synagogues, preaching and driving out demons throughout the whole of Galilee.

Both St. Mark and St. Luke relate that the Lord healed St. Peter’s mother-in-law upon entering Peter’s house.  She lay “sick with fever”, probably in a back room of the house.  We can see this because the unmarried women of the family stayed in the back of their dwellings in order to afford the, privacy.  We can  also see this because according to Mark, Peter and his brother Andrew told Jesus about her immediately after he entered the house.  To this point in Mark’s Gospel, Jesus has not cured anyone from a disease, although he has just driven a demon out of a man.  Therefore, they may not have told the Lord about her with an eye to his curing her.  They simply may have been explaining the groans she uttered in her suffering.  They do not seem to have asked him to do anything for her.  Luke, on the other hand, tells us that “they besought him for her” (Luke 4, 38).

“He approached, grasped her hand, and helped her up.”  Only Mark tells us that Jesus “grasped her hand and helped her up”.  Luke says only that she “rose immediately” (Luke 4, 39).  She was an older woman, though probably not elderly.  She was certainly widowed, as she was living in the house of her son-in-law, which also tells us that she had no sons of her own and allows for the possibility that Peter’s wife may have been her only child.  Peter’s father was also dead by then, for the unmarried Andrew was living with him.  Neither Mark nor Luke says anything more specific about her disease than that “she was ill with a high fever” (Luke 4, 38).  Any number of infections could have caused her fever, and in the days before antibiotics, any of these infections could well have been fatal.  Peter and Andrew led Jesus to her in the back.  Her condition would have rendered her pitiable to look at.  But the Lord not only looked upon her, but he put out his hand, rough, calloused, and strong from years in the carpentry shop, and took her smaller, frail hand.  With his strong, masterful grip, he helped her up.  “Then the fever left her”.  The way Luke tells the story, the Lord seems to heal her while she is still lying down, and she gets up afterwards.  Mark indicates that she was healed as the Lord grasped her hand, or while he was helping her up, or as she was standing.  At any rate, she is healed while he has her hand in his.

“And she waited on them.”  No one spoke.  The woman went outside to help with the meal.  It was as though she intuited that the visitor had healed her to serve him.  Mark makes it a point that the woman did not need to convalesce after her nearly fatal illness.  She got up at once, and not to move herself to a more comfortable position, but to go to work.  And although she needed the help of the Lord to rise from where she had lain, she did not need it to make her way to where the dinner was being prepared.  The Apostles, stunned, let her pass.

The neighbors would have noticed her when she came outside, and by the end of dinner everyone in the town knew about the exorcism and the cure of the fever.  A new kind of fever came over the people of the place, and they   “brought to him all who were ill or possessed by demons.”  The whole town seemed to camp itself outside the house, and the Lord, like a good servant, attended to each man, woman, and child brought before him.  And then, by morning, they were all looking for him again, to hear him speak more.  When told the news, the Lord answered, “Let us go on to the nearby villages that I may preach there also. For this purpose have I come.”  He could have waited for the people of those villages to come to him, but he had come to serve, and so he goes out to them.

The Lord shows us how to serve those to whom we are sent, and Peter’s mother-in-law shows us how to serve him.

Tuesday in the First Week of Ordinary Time, January 13, 2026

Mark 1, 21-28

Jesus came to Capernaum with his followers, and on the sabbath he entered the synagogue and taught. The people were astonished at his teaching, for he taught them as one having authority and not as the scribes. In their synagogue was a man with an unclean spirit; he cried out, “What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are–the Holy One of God!” Jesus rebuked him and said, “Quiet! Come out of him!” The unclean spirit convulsed him and with a loud cry came out of him. All were amazed and asked one another, “What is this? A new teaching with authority. He commands even the unclean spirits and they obey him.” His fame spread everywhere throughout the whole region of Galilee.

Jesus normally taught in the synagogues of the towns he visited.  He varied from this practice when no synagogue existed in the place, or when the crowds made this impossible.  On occasion, in Jerusalem, the Jewish leaders questioned him and he answered them wherever he was.  This contrasts with how the Greeks usually spoke publicly about religion or on any other subject.  They did so in the city’s marketplace.  We see St. Paul doing this in places like Athens.  Jesus preferred to preach in the synagogues because in the Jewish culture, that was the proper place for it.  “The people were astonished at his teaching, for he taught them as one having authority and not as the scribes.”  An example of this “teaching with authority” is found in Matthew 5, 21-22: “You have heard that it was said to the men of old, ‘You shall not kill; and whoever kills shall be liable to judgment.’  But I say to you that every one who is angry with his brother shall be liable to judgment.”  The Lord does not cite Scripture to support his interpretation — his fulfillment — of the commandment, but relies on his authority.  This “astonished” the people because only the One who made the Law would dare to transform it in the way he had.  The people had two conclusions to draw from this: either he was mad, or he was God.

“In their synagogue was a man with an unclean spirit.”  The Greek text actually says, “Immediately in their synagogue there was a man, etc.”  St. Mark uses the word “immediately” very often in his Gospel.  Here, it indicates that the possessed man appeared suddenly in the synagogue, that he rushed into it.  “In their synagogue, etc.”. Those with unclean spirits are found in all places.  The spirit is called “unclean” or “impure” because it is foul with hatred and anger.  It is also terrified, as on this occasion.  We see a graphic display of the uncleanness of demons when the mob of demons, “Legion”, requests to be sent into the herd of swine feeding on the hillside.  ““What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth?”  The Greek phrasing here is nearly the same as in John 2, 4, in which the Lord answers his Mother at the Wedding at Cana, and which is usually translated along the lines of, “What is this to you and to me?”  The demon is saying to the Lord, What does this man matter to you?  The demon seems to pause for an answer before he speaks again: “Have you come to destroy us?”  That is, Have you come to destroy our power over the world?  The demon senses the power of the Lord, knows that he does not fear him, and is uneasy that the Lord does not deign to answer him.  Another pause, and then: “I know who you are–the Holy One of God!”  The demon does not in fact know that the Son of God stands over him, but he throws out a line, desperate for some response, something to fight back with.

“Jesus rebuked him and said, ‘Quiet! Come out of him!’ ”  The Lord does not dignify the demon by answering its questions, nor does he allow such as it to proclaim his identity to anyone.  The Lord reveals his divinity not through the screeching of a vile demon, but through his expulsion of this demon.  He silences the demon and commands him to go forth from the man.  “The unclean spirit convulsed him and with a loud cry came out of him.”  The unclean spirit did not want to return to hell, there to be jeered at  by the other demons for its failure.  The convulsions and the cry show the extent to which the demon controlled the man.  The Lord was not exorcising some weak breath of wind, but a powerful spirit, stronger than any man but this one.

“All were amazed and asked one another, ‘What is this? A new teaching with authority.’ ”  The word translated here as “authority” also means “power”, which establishes and maintains authority.  We can only imagine the scene within the synagogue during and immediately after the exorcism.  The formerly possessed man, sitting on the floor, looking around, unable to understand what he is doing there; the Lord Jesus looking upon him with love and helping him to his feet; and the assembly, in turmoil, some briskly shaking their heads, as though to clear them, and others talking at once.  The episode seemed to happen so quickly, so abruptly, without warning.  “He commands even the unclean spirits and they obey him.”  First, the teaching in which the Lord transformed — fulfilled — the Law, but then he shows himself capable of commanding the demons with the result that they obey him.  If the demons obey him, how much more should we? they must have wondered.  And that is the logical question.  

“His fame spread everywhere throughout the whole region of Galilee.”  This exorcism, coupled with the miracles he performed in Capernaum, and his preaching, caused the Lord Jesus to be spoken of throughout the region.  Sadly, as we know, despite all that the Lord did in that city, we later find him lamenting: “And you, Capernaum, will you be exalted to heaven? You shall be brought down to Hades. For if the mighty works done in you had been done in Sodom, it would have remained until this day” (Matthew 11, 23).  The city, unlike the demons throughout the land, grew accustomed to the Lord, and its inhabitants went about their business as if he were not there.

Monday in the First Week of Ordinary Time, January 12, 2026

Mark 1, 14-20

After John had been arrested, Jesus came to Galilee proclaiming the Gospel of God: “This is the time of fulfillment. The Kingdom of God is at hand. Repent, and believe in the Gospel.”  As he passed by the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting their nets into the sea; they were fishermen. Jesus said to them, “Come after me, and I will make you fishers of men.” Then they left their nets and followed him. He walked along a little farther and saw James, the son of Zebedee, and his brother John. They too were in a boat mending their nets. Then he called them. So they left their father Zebedee in the boat along with the hired men and followed him.

“The time of fulfillment”.  When Jesus begins his public ministry in Mark’s Gospel, his first words are not instructions, warnings, or explanations. They are a declaration about time: “This is the time of fulfillment. The Kingdom of God is at hand.” In Greek the verb is πεπλήρωται — “has been fulfilled” — but the imagination behind it is unmistakably Hebrew. Time here is not a neutral sequence of moments ticking forward. It is something that has been growing, ripening, quietly preparing itself for what God is about to do.

In the biblical world, time “matures” the way fruit matures. It has weight, texture, readiness. Some moments are green and unready; others are heavy with meaning. When Jesus says “the time has been fulfilled,” he is not saying, “The schedule has been met.” He is saying: history itself has reached ripeness. This is why nothing in this passage feels hurried — even though everything changes.

John has been arrested. A door has closed. Yet Jesus does not react anxiously. He does not rush to Jerusalem or gather an army. He goes to Galilee and proclaims that the time is ready. What God has been shaping through centuries of promise, law, failure, waiting, and hope has now reached its fullness. And then, almost immediately, Jesus walks along the sea. This too belongs to the logic of fulfilled time. When the moment is ripe, ordinary places become charged with meaning. A shoreline becomes a threshold. Nets become symbols of an old life that has reached its limit. The call comes not in thunder, but in a sentence: “Come after me.”

Notice what happens next. Simon and Andrew do not ask for explanations. James and John do not request guarantees. They leave their nets, their boat, even their father. This is not impulsiveness. It is recognition. Something in them knows that this moment will not come again. When time is fulfilled, hesitation is the real danger.

This helps us understand repentance in a deeper way. Repentance is not merely sorrow for past sins. It is the willingness to step into the moment God has prepared. To cling to what is familiar when the time has matured is not caution; it is refusal.

The modern world teaches us to think of time as empty and interchangeable: another day, another week, another chance. The Gospel teaches the opposite. Some moments are decisive. Some hours carry eternity within them. Grace arrives not randomly, but when the time is fulfilled.

That is why Jesus’ proclamation is both gentle and urgent. He does not threaten; he announces. He does not coerce; he invites. But the invitation carries weight, because ripe fruit does not wait forever on the branch.

For us, this passage is quietly unsettling. It asks us whether we still believe that time has meaning — that God prepares moments, not just outcomes. It asks whether we can recognize when a season has reached its fullness, and whether we have the courage to leave our nets behind when it has.

The Kingdom of God is not only “at hand” in the sense of being near. It is at hand because the time is ready. Indeed, according to the Greek tense, it has approached. And when the time is fulfilled, the only faithful response is the one we see on that Galilean shore: to rise, to follow, and to trust that what we are leaving behind has already given us all it can.