The Fifth Sunday after the Epiphany Migration with Dignity Sunday - February 8,2026

St. Paul’s - Epiphany 5 - February 8, 2026

You are the salt of the earth….You are the light of the world. Let your light shine before others. Jesus’ words here insist to us that public witness is central to our baptismal identity. We have been made into light, and light exists to reveal! 

Public witness is not just a nice addition to the work of the gospel. Living authentically as light-bearers is at the core of who God created us to be. Revealing evil by confronting it and revealing love by living it out for one another is our created goodness. To try to hide our light under a bushel basket, because we are afraid to take too strong a stance for justice, causes our individual souls to shrivel and weakens our communal life as the church. When we are baptized, we are called to give light to all the house; this is what it means to proclaim by word and example the good news of God in Christ (Book of Common Prayer, p. 305). 

The light also serves to illuminate the darkness, a callback to the psalm for the day (Psalm 112:4), where the righteous are a light for those in darkness. When we look at the issue of immigration in this country today, we see many who authorities are trying to hold down in darkness, whether in the literal darkness of holding cells at federal buildings or detention camps, or through the oppression of deportation back into danger and privation. The light of all who act in community and solidarity with migrant neighbors is a light that springs up in the midst of that darkness. We are led by immigrants and immigrant communities among us, and we create light for one another as we meet each others’ needs. Light begins in darkness.

Our light is surely a divine gift and calling. It is also a fundamental reality that every human shines brightly in the distinctiveness and beauty of their identity. We must insist not only on physical safety and basic needs being met but on the right to identity and culture because our identities are part of the divine beauty given to us, by which we enlighten one another.

 Isaiah shows us a commitment to Migration With Dignity as an act of repentance, a fast of justice before the Lord in response to the crisis of injustice we see before us, to which God will respond faithfully. Jesus’ words about salt remind us of the need for that act of repentance: we must do justice, or risk losing our saltiness, that which makes us able to show an alternative to the evil in the world.

Jesus’ words about light then go from repentance to creation, to promise us that a commitment to justice is grounded in our very created identity in God. We are light-bearers for one another as people created in the image of God, and we are light-bearers for one another as followers of Jesus, reborn by baptism. Just as a tiny light can fill all the corners of a house, our own actions of witness and solidarity, wherever we are, illuminate our networks of care for one another and celebration of one another’s identities as children of God. As we uphold a commitment to movement and the beauty of diversity, as the Migration With Dignity suggest, we reflect light to one another, all for the glory of God.

In his Sermon on the Mount, Jesus makes concrete the work of love, compassion, healing, and justice.  It’s not enough to simply believe.  It’s not enough to bask in our blessedness while all around us God’s creation burns.  To be blessed, to be salt, to be light  to be followers of Jesus, is to take seriously what our identity signifies.   

We are that which will enhance or embitter, soothe or irritate, melt or sting, preserve or ruin.  For better or for worse, we are the salt of the earth, and what we do with our saltiness matters.  It matters a lot.  Whether we want to or not, whether we notice or not, whether we’re intentional about it or not, we spiritually impact the world we live in.  

Roman soldiers were often paid with salt. It held value. Maybe Jesus is saying that you and I are of value. Do we recognize that about ourselves and one another? Are we living in ways that are worth our salt? What does that look like in each of our lives today? Are we being true to ourselves, authentic? Or are we betraying ourselves? Yes, we are of value but sometimes we need to take ourselves with a grain of salt. 

The right mixture of salt and water can clean wounds, prevent infection, and promote healing. What needs healing in your life today and what might that look like? In what ways are we tending to and healing the wounds of others? Remember, however, no one likes having salt rubbed in his or her wound. Compassion is key. What would it be like to hold the pain of another and taste the salt in our tears?

We are the salt of the earth.  We are the lights of the world. That is what we are, for better or for worse.  May it be for better.  May your pouring out — and mine — be for the life of St. Pauls, our communities, our country and this fragile earth we call home..