The Light of the World

Covenant Sunday 2026 - A Sermon on Matthew 5:14

Picture This Scene

Close your eyes for a moment and imagine.

The year is AD 30. A teacher has suddenly burst onto the scene in Galilee, and everyone is talking about Him. He's speaking in synagogues throughout the region. He's gathered a group of followers—ordinary men who are learning from Him. And the healings—people are being healed of every kind of sickness. Those suffering with chronic pain, those tormented by demons, people having seizures, the paralyzed—all are being restored.

This is all happening in Galilee, the northern region of Israel. It's not the place you'd expect a movement to begin. These aren't sophisticated city people. They're farmers, fishermen, laborers—everyday folks who've accepted that their lives will be ordinary and unremarkable.

But this teacher is telling them something different. His message is straightforward: "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand." Something big is coming.

In Galilee sits a body of water they call the Sea of Galilee—though really, it's more like a large lake. Jesus spends considerable time there. This quiet, overlooked region is now drawing massive crowds—thousands of people coming to hear Him, to see Him, to be healed by Him.

As the crowds press in, Jesus climbs a hillside overlooking the water. The people quiet down. He's about to speak, and they don't want to miss a single word.

The Unexpected Blessing

Jesus begins with words that must have shocked them:

"Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth." (Matthew 5:3–5)

Can you imagine the murmurs rippling through the crowd? "He's talking about us. He's describing ordinary people like us."

Jesus keeps going:

"Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled. Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God. Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God. Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven." (Matthew 5:6–10)

The crowd erupts. They know persecution all too well. They know what it's like to be dismissed, disrespected, looked down upon as backward country folks by the religious elite in Jerusalem.

As the noise dies down, Jesus continues:

"Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you." (Matthew 5:11–12)

Wait—is He comparing them to the prophets? These ordinary Galileans to Isaiah, Jeremiah, Elijah?

The Stunning Declaration

After letting that sink in, Jesus makes an even more stunning declaration:

"You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled underfoot. You are the light of the world." (Matthew 5:13–14)

Notice what He doesn't say. He doesn't say, "Iam the light of the world"—though He will claim that title later. Right now, He's looking at this crowd of fishermen and farmers, tax collectors and homemakers, and He's saying, "You are the light of the world."

Think about that.

You think you're insignificant? You're not.

You think you're nothing special? You're wrong.

You think you don't make a difference? You do.

You are the light of the world.

Our Story Isn't So Different

Here's the thing—we're not so different from those Galileans.

We're gathered here in Texoma. We don't make the national news. This isn't a region known for world-changing events. We're regular people living regular lives. Our church is good, but we're not featured in any articles about the fastest-growing congregations or innovative ministries. There are thousands of churches across America just like ours.

If we're honest, sometimes we wonder if we really make a difference. We see the big churches with the big names doing big things, and we think, "Well, that's not us."

But what if Jesus would look at us the same way He looked at that Galilean crowd?

What if He would say to us what He said to them?

You are the light of the world.

Let That Sink In

That's not a small thing Jesus is saying. It's an incredible compliment and a profound calling.

I want you to do something right now. Turn to someone near you—whether you know them well or not—and say these words to them: "You are the light of the world."

Don't mumble it. Don't rush through it. Say it like you believe it, because it's true.

You are the light of the world.

Think about what that means. You carry truth into places of confusion. You bring hope into situations of despair. You speak life where there is death. You matter.

Jesus is telling you that you're partnering with Him in bringing the kingdom of heaven into the here and now. Wherever you go, you carry His light with you.

Everywhere You Go

Where does this happen? Everywhere.

When you're at home with your family—you are the light.

When you're at work, dealing with difficult coworkers or challenging tasks—you are the light.

When you're at school, surrounded by peers who may not share your values—you are the light.

When you're running errands, shopping for groceries, interacting with the cashier—you are the light.

When you're driving—yes, even in traffic—you are the light.

When you're out walking your dog in the neighborhood—you are the light.

When you're spending time with friends—you are the light.

When you're on the field playing sports—you are the light.

When you're gathered here in this church—you are the light.

When you're in your neighborhood, being a good neighbor—you are the light.

When you're in this town, being a faithful presence—you are the light.

Jesus is saying, "I need you to be the light. The world needs what you carry."

Fast Forward to Today

Now, envision this.

It's January 2026.

Several hundred people have gathered in a church building in Texoma. They're somewhat excited about the new year, but also a bit weary, wondering if this year will really be any different from the last. They're ordinary people living in an ordinary place on the border of Texas and Oklahoma.

And Jesus is speaking to them—to you—the same words He spoke on that hillside two thousand years ago:

You are the light of the world.

Don't discount yourself.

Don't diminish your calling.

Don't think for a moment that your life doesn't matter.

You carry the light of Christ wherever you go. And this world desperately needs that light.

So go be the light.

Closing Prayer

Let us pray.

Father in Heaven,

We come before You this morning humbled and amazed by the words of Your Son. When we look at ourselves, we see ordinary people living ordinary lives. But when Jesus looks at us, He sees something entirely different—He sees light.

Lord, forgive us for the times we have believed the lie that we don't matter, that our lives are insignificant, that we can't make a difference. Help us to see ourselves the way You see us—as carriers of Your light, as partners in bringing Your kingdom to earth.

As we leave this place today and step back into our homes, our workplaces, our schools, and our neighborhoods, go with us. Remind us moment by moment that we are the light of the world. When we're tempted to hide that light, to dim it, or to forget we carry it at all, stir our hearts and renew our vision.

Give us courage to shine brightly in dark places. Give us wisdom to know when to speak and when to listen. Give us compassion to see the needs around us. Give us strength to love when it's difficult, to forgive when we've been wronged, and to hope when circumstances look bleak.

Lord Jesus, You are the true Light of the World, and apart from You we can do nothing. So fill us afresh with Your Spirit. Let Your light shine through us so brightly that others will see our good works and glorify our Father in heaven.

We are just ordinary people in Texoma, but You have called us to an extraordinary purpose. Help us to live worthy of that calling. May we never forget that our light is not for our own glory, but to point others to You. Let everything we say and do bring honor and praise to Your name alone.

May we leave here today believing—truly believing—that we are the light of the world, shining for Your glory.

In the name of Jesus Christ, the Light that shines in the darkness, we pray.

Amen.