Become the Light of Christ

As some of you may know, once upon a time I was a sailor — a Coastie, actually — in the early years of my working life. I spent over 20 years in the Coast Guard, with more than half of that time on ships at sea. This was quite a few years back, and while we had a few electronic black boxes to help figure out where we were, my iPhone has more navigation capability than most of the ships I served in, especially the smaller ones. So making landfall at night, especially when you weren’t quite sure where you were, was a pretty exciting time. As you approached the coast — especially in bad weather or fog — everyone would be up on deck staring into the darkness trying to catch the slightest glimmer of a lighthouse or beacon. First you might catch the faintest glow over the horizon, and slowly it would come into view. And finally, when you got close enough to clearly see the light in the distance and figure out which one it was, you could feel the relief run through the crew. You finally knew where you were and — more importantly — you knew how to find your way home safe.

That theme of the guiding light plays pretty heavily in our readings today. Christ tells us in our Gospel that it’s our DUTY to become “the salt of the earth” and “the light of the world.” He’s calling each one of us to Become the Light of Christ, to be the beacon that brings his people out of the darkness of sin. We’ll spend some time on that, but first let’s explore the readings we just heard.

In ancient times, salt was a very valuable commodity. It was seen as a symbol of purity, widely used in Jewish sacrifices as well as offerings in other cultures. It was used to preserve meat, fish, fruits, and vegetables, since they had neither refrigeration or ice. And salt added flavor and taste to what would’ve been otherwise bland and inedible foods. But it’s PURITY was critical. lf the salt became adulterated or contaminated too much by other substances, it lost all value and was good for nothing but patching holes in the road. So when Christ calls us to be “the salt of the earth” he is calling us to remain free of the corrupting influences of the world, and to work to preserve the purity of our faith. As Pope St. John Paul II put it during a Youth Day speech, “As the salt of the earth, you are called to preserve the Faith which you have received and to pass it on intact to others.”

And then Christ tells his disciples (and us), “You are the light of the world.” He goes on to underscore that light is meant to be SEEN rather than hidden, to be out there for all the world to see. Sounds great, but in our modern world we often feel pretty tiny and insignificant, so the idea of shining forth for the whole world might seem a little daunting. So let me give you this thought.

Here in south Alabama we’re pretty familiar with thunderstorms and power outages. I suspect all of us have had the experience of sitting at home at night when suddenly in the midst of a big storm all the lights go out. We know where we are and we know we’re safe. But how comforting is it when you get that first candle lit? It doesn’t give off much light, but it sure seems like a GREAT light shining in the midst of all that darkness. That’s who we are called to be — a small light of Christ shining forth for all the world to see.

But our light doesn’t HAVE to be small. Our reading from the prophet Isaiah reminds us that when we share God’s light with others it becomes all the brighter in our own lives — “Then light shall rise for you in the darkness, and the gloom shall become for you like midday.” And Isaiah tells us how to make God’s light grow in us and in the world — “Share your bread with the hungry, shelter the oppressed and the homeless; clothe the naked when you see them, and do not turn your back on your own”

I get it — it still seems like Christ is putting an impossible burden on us this evening. Maybe if we had the resources of the Carnegie Endowment or the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation, we MIGHT make at least a noticeable dent in the poverty, hunger, or homelessness we see around us, but we’re just regular people. But let me share one more story.

An older man was taking a walk along a beach after a big storm. Everywhere he looked there was debris, driftwood, and fish washed up on the shore. Off in the distance he saw a small figure leaning down, picking something up and throwing it into the ocean. As he got a little closer, he realized that the figure was a little boy. When he got even closer, he saw what the boy was doing. The kid was picking up starfish off the beach and throwing them back into the ocean. The man walked up to the boy and asked, "What are you doing?" The boy said, "I am saving starfish." "But," the man said, "this beach goes on for miles and miles, and there are thousands and thousands of starfish washed up from the storm. What difference do you think you can make?" The little kid reached down, picked up one more starfish, tossed it into the ocean and simply said, "Well, it makes a difference to that one."

No one in this Church can do everything, but every one of us can do something in our homes and our communities to make the light of Christ shine just a little brighter in the world.

Maybe we can’t change the world by ourselves. But we CAN change SOMEONE’S world. John Wesley, one of the founders of the Methodist Church in America, left us some great advice: “Do all the good you can, by all the means you can, in all the ways you can, in all the places you can, to all the people you can, as long as ever you can.” Christ is calling us to be His light in the world, the guiding light that helps his people find their way home. May we shine before mankind every day of our lives.