Salt, Light, and Credibility: What Real Christian Witness Looks Like Today

 5 Sunday OT, Year A

In a world filled with loud public claims of Christianity that are not always compelling, Jesus reminds his followers that true witness is measured not by volume or power, but by credibility. Through the images of salt and light, the Gospel shows that Christians are called to draw out the goodness in others and to reveal what is life-giving, without overpowering or dominating. Authentic Christian witness makes God visible not through force or status, but through a quiet presence that enhances goodness and illuminates the path toward Christ.

Listen to homily here:

Read homily here:

Sometimes people suggest that one of the problems Christians face in the world today is that they need to be quiet about their faith, or that they should not really show it to others. Certainly, in some parts of the world, Christians do face persecution, and it is also true that at times people may feel embarrassed or hesitant about practising their faith openly. But despite these challenges, it is difficult to say that Christianity is always quiet in the public sphere. In fact, there are many very loud expressions of Christianity in the world today.

For example, one could argue that the Super Bowl is one of the days of the year when the most prayers are offered. In many sporting events, athletes quite openly make the sign of the cross, whether at the Olympics or the World Cup. In politics as well, we often hear public figures quoting the Bible or referencing the fact that they are Christians and followers of Jesus. Christianity, it seems, is not always subtle or hidden. And yet, these loud expressions are not always compelling. At times, they even push people away.

What seems to be missing is not volume, but credibility. In fact, simply saying that one is Christian can sometimes act less like an announcement of good news and more like a warning sign. Christianity can acquire a bad reputation, not because of the Gospel itself, but because of the way it is sometimes embodied. This is not new. Throughout history, people with power or wealth have often claimed the Christian name while living lives very far from the Gospel. In the early centuries after Christianity was legalized, many Roman emperors called themselves Christians, yet their lives bore little resemblance to Christ. Later, during the Renaissance, some popes, despite being regarded as the vicars of Christ, lived in ways that were deeply scandalous. The same pattern continues today when those in positions of power claim Christianity while offering an example that contradicts the message of Jesus.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus seems to anticipate this problem. He offers two simple but profound images that show us what credible Christian witness looks like: salt and light. Both images point to a way of being present in the world that is not forceful or domineering, but transformative in a quieter and more authentic way.

Consider first the image of salt. In the time of Jesus, salt was extremely valuable. The word salary itself comes from the fact that Roman soldiers were sometimes paid with salt. Salt was used to preserve food, to disinfect wounds, and, as today, to enhance flavour. It is this last use that is especially helpful. When used properly, salt draws out the goodness of what is already there. But too much salt can ruin a dish.

I remember when I was in elementary school becoming interested in cooking and baking, long before you could look everything up online. I once attempted to make meringue, those baked desserts made from whipped egg whites and sugar. The recipe called for just a small amount of salt, but I misunderstood what that meant and added far too much. The result was inedible and had to be thrown away. Salt, when it overpowers, destroys rather than enhances.

The same can be true of Christian witness. When Christianity becomes overbearing or dominating, it ceases to be attractive. There are forms of Christianity that imply that believers are better than others or that seek to control rather than serve. This is not credible witness. To be salt in the world means helping to draw out the goodness already present in others, helping people recognize the dignity and goodness with which God has created them.

The image of light carries a similar meaning. Today we take light for granted. We simply flip a switch. In the ancient world, light was precious and difficult to come by. Yet light, too, can be misused. I was driving recently on a rainy evening when a car approached from the opposite direction with extremely bright headlights. They were so intense that they actually made it harder to see. Good light, however, does the opposite. It illuminates the path, reveals direction, and allows us to move safely.

Light should never blind. It should reveal. Think of a sunrise. Gradually, what was hidden in darkness becomes visible, and the beauty of creation emerges. When Jesus calls us light, he is inviting us to live in a way that reveals goodness, that helps others see both the path forward and the beauty already present in their lives. Christian witness should illuminate, not overwhelm. It should guide, not dominate.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus invites us to reflect seriously on what kind of witnesses we are. When people think of a Christian, what comes to mind? Someone who claims faith but contradicts it in practice, or someone whose presence brings out goodness, sheds light, and quietly points toward God?

As we continue with this Mass and enter the coming week, perhaps one final question is worth considering. Imagine that someone encounters you this week and knows that you are a Christian. Imagine, in fact, that you are the only Christian they ever meet. What kind of picture of Christ would your life give them?

The Paradox of Blessedness: Finding Fulfilment Through the Beatitudes

 4 Sunday of Ordinary Time, year A

Jesus’ Beatitudes challenge our usual ideas of success by revealing that true blessedness is not found in comfort or status, but in right relationship with God and with one another. Even in poverty, grief, or struggle, a person can experience deep fulfilment through trust in God and a life shaped by self-giving love. Lived out in the Christian community, this paradoxical way of life becomes a powerful witness to the Gospel and a sign of God’s work among us.

Listen to homily here:

Read homily here:

We hear the words of Jesus so often, especially the words we heard in the Gospel today, the Beatitudes, such a familiar and beloved teaching. We can become so accustomed to hearing them that they lose their power to surprise us. And yet, when we listen carefully, the teaching of Jesus, particularly in the Beatitudes, really should shock us. It is strange. It is paradoxical. At first glance, it does not make much sense. Today we are invited to allow ourselves to be surprised once again by the teaching of Christ.

For those who first heard Jesus preach, the Beatitudes would have been deeply unsettling. If we were asked to identify someone who was most blessed in life, we would probably not point to the people Jesus describes. In Jesus’ time, just as in our own, to be blessed meant to be fortunate, fulfilled, and successful. It meant good health, a strong family, financial security, comfort, and perhaps social standing. This is what it meant to live a good life. And yet Jesus turns all of this upside down. He declares blessed the poor, the meek, those who mourn, and those who are persecuted. This is unexpected and unsettling, and it should give us pause.

Jesus is not glorifying suffering for its own sake, nor are Christians meant to seek out hardship. What Jesus teaches in the Beatitudes is that while the good things of life are indeed gifts from God, they are not the final measure of blessedness. Even in the midst of struggle, poverty, grief, or persecution, a person can still be blessed. True beatitude, true fulfilment, comes from living in right relationship with God and in right relationship with one another. When we live in communion with Christ, we can experience blessedness even amid difficulty and struggle.

Jesus often points to children as a model for how we are to relate to God. This truth struck me in a particular way this past Wednesday during our parish PREP program, when we celebrated First Confession for about fifty children, mostly in Grade Two, with some a little older. That evening, I was feeling a bit on edge and distracted, carrying the weight of many concerns. Yet as I listened to these young children make their confessions, something remarkable happened. No matter how heavy my heart may have been, the simple and sincere faith of these children was deeply moving.

In them we see a profound trust in God, a simplicity and directness, and a genuine sense that God is a loving parent who cares for them. This is precisely the relationship Christ invites us into. Each time we pray the Our Father, at Mass and throughout the day, we approach God as children who trust in their Father’s care. When we live with this kind of trust and abandonment to God, we can experience peace, fulfilment, and blessedness even in the midst of life’s struggles.

We also experience this blessedness through right relationship with one another. In the Beatitudes, Jesus gives us a picture of life in the Kingdom of God, a way of living marked by mercy, humility, forgiveness, and generosity. This way of life is sometimes described as the law of the gift, a phrase articulated by figures such as Saint John Paul II. It captures the paradox at the heart of the Beatitudes and of the Christian life itself. At first, this way of living does not seem logical. Yet we discover its truth when we live it. We find our life and our fulfilment precisely when we give our lives as a gift to others, when we serve, forgive, and place the needs of others before our own.

In today’s readings, Saint Paul reminds us that not only the teaching of Jesus but the very life of the Christian community can appear strange to the world. Writing to the Corinthians, Paul explains that God did not choose the powerful or the wise by worldly standards, but those who seemed insignificant. The wisdom of the cross stands in contrast to the wisdom of the world. Historically, many early Christians came from the margins of society, including the poor and the enslaved, people who recognized in the Gospel a message of liberation and hope.

A Roman governor named Pliny, writing around the year 115, described this new movement of Christians to the emperor. He noted that Christians lived within society and contributed to its well being, yet they also lived differently. They shared what they had, refused to deceive or defraud others, and sought to live honest and faithful family lives. Even from the perspective of a pagan observer, their way of life stood out as something unusual and paradoxical.

Today, Jesus once again invites us to be surprised by the strangeness of the Beatitudes. This teaching may appear illogical, but its truth becomes clear when it is lived. As a parish community, we are called to be a place where the Beatitudes are made visible, where this paradoxical blessedness is lived out. May we commit ourselves anew to being people of the Beatitudes, trusting that true joy and fulfilment are found not in the absence of difficulty, but in living in right relationship with God and with one another.

Taking the Bible Off the Shelf: Why God’s Word Belongs in Daily Life

 3 Sunday of OT, Year A

Sacred Scripture is not meant to be admired from a distance but read and lived as a daily part of Christian life. Through the Word of God, Jesus continues to speak, call, and guide believers in the midst of ordinary, busy lives, just as he did the first disciples. Even a small daily practice of reading the Bible, especially the Gospels, can deepen faith, shape discipleship, and transform how we follow Christ.

Listen to homily here:

Read homily here:

I remember when I was a kid and I would go visit my grandma’s house. She had the cups and plates that we normally used, but there was also a cabinet that you were not really allowed to open. Inside that cabinet were other plates and cups, the good china. I was always amazed as a kid that all of those dishes just sat there. They were never used. They were waiting for a special occasion. Maybe you have something like that in your house as well. I think a lot of people do.

Sometimes people say that this is the way Catholics approach the Bible, sacred scripture. The Bible can be like fine china. We respect it. We give it a place of honour. But we do not take it out very often. There are exceptions, of course, but for many Catholics, the Bible is not something that becomes part of daily life.

Today is a special Sunday in the Church year, a Sunday dedicated to the Word of God. It is meant to remind us that sacred scripture, reading the Bible, is an indispensable part of our relationship with Jesus. In the Gospel today we hear the story of the first followers of Christ, those whom Jesus comes to and calls. We remember today that when we read and ponder sacred scripture, this is how Jesus still speaks to us. This is how he still calls us and says, “Come, follow me.”

In recent generations, the Catholic Church has been rediscovering the importance of sacred scripture. This week we have been celebrating the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity with our other Christian brothers and sisters. This week is an important moment in the Church’s mission toward greater unity among Christians. Along this ecumenical journey, Catholics have learned that we have much to learn from other followers of Jesus. One of the most important things we have learned is the central place of scripture in the Christian life. Many other Christians read the Bible faithfully and allow it to shape how they live day by day. They listen for how Christ calls them through that daily encounter with scripture.

At the Second Vatican Council in the 1960s, the Church emphasized this strongly in a document called Dei Verbum, which means “The Word of God.” This document was influenced by the ecumenical movement and also by a rediscovery within our own Catholic tradition. It taught that sacred scripture is not simply a book that gives us information. For a long time, Catholics often approached the Bible mainly as a source of teachings or propositions, truths that we could not discover through reason alone. Scripture was seen primarily as a book that told us things about God.

Dei Verbum broadened that understanding. It taught that revelation exists to lead us into a relationship with God. Sacred scripture certainly teaches us about who God is, but more importantly, it draws us into a living relationship with God now and forever. Scripture is relational first and foremost. It is meant to help us encounter Jesus so that we can follow him more closely. This is something the Church has been rediscovering and teaching with renewed emphasis in recent generations.

It is through sacred scripture that Jesus continues to call people today. He speaks a personal word that can change our lives. Some years ago, I had the opportunity to live in Jerusalem for a time and to visit the Sea of Galilee. I saw the remains of the places we hear about in the Gospels. There are several churches there, many cared for by the Franciscans, and one beautiful church by the Sea of Galilee recalls the moment in today’s Gospel when Peter, Andrew, and the others are called while fishing.

When we visited that place, we spent time in prayer, reading the Gospel and imagining what it might have been like for those first disciples. They were not gathered in quiet prayer. They were busy with their daily work. Their minds were probably elsewhere. And it was precisely there, in the midst of ordinary life, that Christ called them and changed their lives forever.

Sacred scripture can do the same for us. Our lives are busy. Our minds are often elsewhere. But when we take even a few minutes to read the Bible, especially the Gospels, Christ can speak to us. A word or a phrase can give us direction, inspiration, or clarity. It can help us to live our lives more faithfully. Through sacred scripture, Christ continues to call us.

For this reason, the Church encourages us to develop some daily practice of reading scripture. That does not have to be complicated. Sometimes we set goals that are too ambitious and then give up before we begin. We might think we need to read an entire Gospel at once. In reality, very small habits can be powerful. Reading a short passage or a few paragraphs each day can take only a minute or two, but it can make a real difference.

We can simply ask, “Jesus, what are you saying to me today? How are you calling me? How are you showing me your love? How are you inviting me to live?” In doing this, we can be changed. Like the first disciples in the Gospel, we can hear the voice of Jesus.

If we do not already have a habit of reading scripture, or if we once did and let it slip, today is an invitation to begin again. One simple step might be to place the Bible somewhere visible, somewhere we will actually use it. In a sense, it means taking that fine china off the shelf and bringing it into daily life. Even a few minutes each day, perhaps before going to bed, reading a short passage and listening for what Jesus is saying, can make a profound difference.

Jesus continues to speak to us. He continues to call us, just as he called those first disciples. We simply need to make time to approach sacred scripture, this great gift given to us. Even a few minutes each day can change us and help us grow more and more into the disciples Jesus calls us to be.