At the start of the 2020 pandemic, I was finishing a master’s degree in Systematic Theology at Sacred Heart Seminary and School of Theology, an apostolate of the Priests of the Sacred Heart. My chosen final project highlighted the process of storytelling, precipitated by my studies in Narrative Theology. Early Christians used stories of the bible to “win over” non-believers to Jesus’ message. I surmised that our own life stories could offer a way to reflectively enhance our own and other’s spiritual journey. My final written project was structured as a half-day retreat that, thankfully, I’ve been able to employ on a handful of occasions since graduating.

The retreat uses the practices of Lectio Divina and Ignatian contemplation, which encourage practitioners to uncover a connection to what they are hearing or reading with what the Lord is prompting in them. Ignatian contemplation of the senses goes further by instructing that we utilize our hearing, sight, smell, touch, and at times even taste when we engage with a passage from scripture. Today's gospel is one that I've used in leading groups, both laypeople and men in propaedeutic discernment. What I appreciate about these two prayerful practices is that one engages deeply with the reading to be better able to absorb the story by hearing it read twice. In a group setting, impressions made on the hearer are verbalized, allowing others to also glean something new and perhaps unexpected.

Lisa Kelly, who is cited in Jim Manney’s An Ignatian Book of Days, reminds us that this practice asks us “to contemplate what wasn't said, that is, what isn't written in the Gospels. What would I have said? What side conversations might be going on? What would Jesus have said to me had I been there?” (An Ignatian Book of Days, page 298) This is a way of expanding our imaginations and engaging Jesus, the living Christ, and actively giving ourselves a way to engage our Kingdom values in this our given time and in our present moment.

In all three of today’s readings, God’s chosen messengers - Isaiah, Paul, and Simon - are surprised and humbled to be called … after all, they are sinners! Yet, with God’s grace and Jesus’ assurance, they persevere because they acknowledged that aspect of themselves in the presence of “true holiness”. As we ought to do as well.

“Do not be afraid,” Jesus says to comfort Simon who is overwhelmed by the miraculous catch of fish after a disappointing day of having caught “nothing”. Jesus continues, “from now on you will be ‘netting people’” …  which will now become the “new version of [Simon’s] old vocation”. For this calling offered by Jesus, he will leave “everything”.

You may by now have wondered, “Did she say, ‘netting people’? I thought it was supposed to be ‘catching men’.” As a church lector I was given a workbook with annotations to better prepare me to read before the congregation at Mass. Sure enough, in the footnotes I learned that the Greek translation of Jesus’ words is: “netting people”. What a welcome and surprising new insight for me, and perhaps for you as well! (2025 Liturgy Training Publications Workbook, page 64)

As loved sinners, God is continually calling us to do our part in Kingdom building. What does this gospel reading about “being called” or even the Greek translation of “netting people” enliven in you? Perhaps you can spend some time alone or with a partner, journaling or reflecting together. Tell a story about a time when you had a change of heart or had an experience of being “won over”, or about your ongoing commitment to serving others in order to heal the fractures in our broken world.