It is striking that Jesus speaks these words at the very beginning of his public teaching. He does not wait until the disciples are trained, confident, or experienced. He speaks them to ordinary people who have only just begun to follow him. Fishermen, labourers, listeners on the hillside – people who know their limits, their fears, and their uncertainties. And yet Jesus says to them, “You are the light of the world.” (Matthew 5:14).

​

Many of us struggle to hear those words and believe them. When we look at the world around us, we often feel inadequate and powerless. We are confronted daily with stories of war, displacement, rising costs, environmental damage, and deep social divisions. The problems seem vast, complex, and beyond our reach. We may want to help, to make things better, but we feel that whatever we offer will be too small to matter.

That same feeling of powerlessness appears much closer to home. We hear of illness, grief, and broken relationships. We become aware of anxieties carried quietly by those around us – in families, friendships, and workplaces. We want to help, but we do not know how. Sometimes we are afraid of saying the wrong thing. Sometimes we tell ourselves that others are better placed to act. And sometimes, if we are honest, we turn away because it is easier than facing our own sense of helplessness.

​

Jesus’ images of salt and light speak directly into this experience. Salt does not transform food by force. It works quietly, invisibly, drawing out what is already there. Light does not need to overwhelm darkness. Even a small flame changes the space around it, making it possible to see, to move, to hope. Jesus is not asking for dramatic gestures or heroic feats. He is pointing us towards goodness lived faithfully, patiently, and consistently.

​

This matters because it reshapes how we understand our own lives. We often measure worth by visibility and impact. Jesus measures it by faithfulness. A small act of goodness, offered with love, carries real weight. A word of encouragement. A listening ear. A moment of patience when irritation would be easier. These are not insignificant. They are precisely how light enters the world.

​

Scripture reinforces this again and again. God chooses what is small, overlooked, and unimpressive by worldly standards. Mary proclaims, “He has brought down the mighty from their thrones and exalted those of humble estate” (Luke 1:52). God’s work does not depend on power or status, but on hearts willing to trust and respond.

​

We see this truth lived out in the saints. Saint Teresa of Calcutta did not set out to change the world through grand plans. She committed herself to small acts of goodness, repeated day after day, offered to those who were forgotten and ignored. Over time, those small acts became a light that reached far beyond what she could ever have imagined.

​

We recognise the same pattern in ordinary life. A brief visit can lift someone who feels forgotten. A word spoken at the right moment can steady a person who is close to despair. An apology can begin to heal a relationship that seemed beyond repair. These acts do not erase suffering, but they make it bearable. They open a way forward.

​

Jesus does not ask us to solve every problem or carry every burden. He asks us to remain open to goodness. To allow the light we have received to pass through us to others. “Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house.” (Matthew 5:15). Light is not meant to draw attention to itself. It is meant to help others see.

​

The world does not need more noise or display. It needs quiet goodness lived with integrity. It needs people willing to shine gently, steadily, without needing recognition. This is how God continues to work – not through force, but through love.

A grain of salt. A candle flame. A single act of goodness offered in faith. In God’s hands, these are never small things. They are how the light continues to shine. When our hearts are shaped by mercy, justice, and peace, we begin to experience a joy that no circumstance can finally take away