5th Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A - Salt & Light

On February 8, 2026, the Church celebrates the Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time (Year A, Lectionary 73). The readings invite us to reflect deeply on our identity as disciples of Christ and how we are called to live out that identity in a world often marked by darkness, division, and need.

The First Reading from Isaiah 58:7-10 presents God's vision of authentic fasting and true worship—not merely ritual abstinence, but active justice and mercy: sharing bread with the hungry, sheltering the oppressed and homeless, clothing the naked, and not turning away from our own kin. When we do this, God promises, "Then your light shall break forth like the dawn... Your light shall rise in the darkness, and your gloom be like the noonday." Here, righteousness is not abstract; it is concrete compassion that dispels darkness and brings healing. Isaiah reminds us that God desires hearts attuned to the suffering of others, transforming our actions into channels of divine light.

The Responsorial Psalm (Psalm 112:4-5, 6-7, 8-9) echoes this theme: "The just man is a light in darkness to the upright." The righteous person who is gracious, merciful, and just lends generously and conducts affairs with justice. Such a life is steadfast, unafraid of evil tidings, with a heart firm in trust in the Lord. The psalmist paints a portrait of integrity that endures and shines, inspiring us to live with generosity rather than fear.

In the Second Reading, 1 Corinthians 2:1-5, St. Paul humbly recounts his approach to the Corinthians: not with eloquent wisdom or persuasive words, but with "fear and trembling," proclaiming only "Jesus Christ, and him crucified." His message rested not on human wisdom but on the power of God. This reading grounds us in humility—our effectiveness as witnesses comes not from personal charisma or intellectual prowess, but from reliance on the Spirit's demonstration of power. In a world that prizes self-promotion and clever arguments, Paul calls us to simplicity and dependence on Christ alone.

The Gospel (Matthew 5:13-16), from the Sermon on the Mount, directly builds on these themes. Jesus declares to his disciples: "You are the salt of the earth... You are the light of the world." Salt preserves, flavors, and purifies; it is essential yet often unnoticed until absent. Light guides, reveals truth, and banishes shadows. A city on a hill cannot be hidden, nor does one light a lamp to place it under a basket. Jesus urges: "Let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your heavenly Father."

These readings converge on a powerful message: as baptized Christians, we are called to be visible agents of God's love and justice in the world. The Isaiah passage shows what that looks like in practice—acts of mercy that address real human suffering. Paul reminds us that this witness flows from humble faith in the Crucified One, not our own strength. And Jesus commissions us explicitly: we are salt and light by virtue of our union with Him. We do not become these things through effort alone; we already are them through grace. The question is whether we live accordingly or allow our salt to lose its taste or hide our light.

The theme of World Youth Day 2002 in Toronto, Canada—the last one presided over by Saint John Paul II—was drawn directly from the same Gospel passage that resonates so powerfully in the Sunday readings: "You are the salt of the earth... You are the light of the world" (Matthew 5:13-14). This event, held from July 23–28, 2002, brought together hundreds of thousands of young people from around the globe in a profound celebration of faith, hope, and missionary zeal. The official theme song, "Light of the World" by Robert Lebel, captured the spirit beautifully with its refrain: "The light of the world, the salt of the earth, we scatter the darkness when love becomes our way." Many who attended, including myself with my sister and the youth group from St. Dominic Church in the Bronx, still carry vivid memories of singing that anthem amid the crowds, the Vigil under the stars, and the electric atmosphere of unity in Christ, and yes, the rain that poured on us while we were asleep. It was a pivotal moment of grace, especially poignant as it marked Pope St. John Paul II's final World Youth Day, where his frail yet fiery presence inspired a generation.

In his Message for World Youth Day 2002 (promulgated in 2001), Pope John Paul II reflected deeply on these images: "You are the salt of the earth... You are the light of the world" (Mt 5:13-14): this is the theme I have chosen for the next World Youth Day. The images of salt and light used by Jesus are rich in meaning and complement each other. In ancient times, salt and light were seen as essential elements of life. 'You are the salt of the earth...' One of the main functions of salt is to season food, to give it taste and flavour. This image reminds us that, through Baptism, our whole being has been profoundly changed, because it has been 'seasoned' with the new life which comes from Christ... The salt which keeps our Christian identity intact even in a very secularized world is the grace of Baptism." He continued on light: "You are the light of the world... For those who first heard Jesus, as for us, the symbol of light evokes the desire for truth and the thirst for the fullness of knowledge which are imprinted deep within every human being."

Then, in his homily at the concluding Mass on July 28, 2002, at Downsview Park, he proclaimed directly to the young pilgrims: "You are the salt of the earth! You are the light of the world! (Matthew 5:13-14)... It needs you—to be the salt of the earth and the light of the world. Salt is used to preserve and keep... As apostles for the Third Millennium, your task is to preserve and keep alive the awareness of the presence of our Saviour Jesus Christ... You are the light of the world. The light which Jesus speaks of in the Gospel is the light of faith... This new way of looking at the world and at people, which comes to us from him, leads us more deeply into the mystery of faith."

These words from St. John Paul II echo the call in today's readings to live out our baptismal identity boldly. Attending that World Youth Day must have been a transformative experience—being part of that massive gathering, sharing in the joy of faith with your sister and your parish group, and hearing the successor of Peter urge young people to be salt that preserves God's truth and light that pierces the darkness. It remains a powerful reminder that we are not called to hide but to shine, seasoning the world with Christ's love wherever we go. May that memory continue to inspire your discipleship today.

In today's world, with its polarization, isolation, and visible needs—from homelessness and hunger to spiritual emptiness—we are challenged to examine ourselves: Am I sharing my "bread" (time, resources, attention) with those in need? Am I relying on God's power rather than my own cleverness in sharing the faith? Am I letting Christ's light shine through good deeds that point others to the Father?

As we approach the Eucharist this Sunday, let us pray for the grace to embody this calling. May our lives become a living reflection of Isaiah's promise, Paul's humility, and Jesus' commission. In doing so, we not only glorify God but also help dispel the gloom around us, becoming true lights in the darkness for our families, communities, and world.

Lord Jesus, crucified and risen, make us salt that preserves Your truth and light that reveals Your love. Help us to live Your Gospel boldly yet humbly, so that others may see our good works and give glory to our Father in heaven. Amen.

A Review of Light of the World Animated Film

 

A Radiant Beacon of Faith: A Review of Light of the World

On a crisp September evening in 2025, I had the privilege of attending a screening of Light of the World, a 2D animated Christian drama that retells the life of Jesus Christ through the eyes of a young Apostle John. Accompanied by my nephew and niece, I entered the theater with high expectations, having heard whispers of its stunning animation and heartfelt storytelling. What I experienced was nothing short of transformative—a film that not only captivated our hearts but also left us in awe of its spiritual depth and artistic brilliance. Though the theater was sparsely populated, with only a handful of moviegoers present, the resounding applause that erupted at the film’s conclusion spoke volumes about its impact. Light of the World is a tear-jerker, a powerful testament to the gospel, and a cinematic gem that deserves to shine far brighter than it currently does in a world overshadowed by darker, less meaningful fare.

From the moment the film opens with a title card displaying John 3:16—“For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life”—it sets an unapologetically evangelistic tone. Directed by Tom Bancroft and John J. Schafer, Light of the World is a production of The Salvation Poem Project, a nonprofit dedicated to sharing the story of Jesus through creative mediums. The film’s narrative follows John, voiced with youthful exuberance by Benjamin Jacobson, as he navigates life in AD 30 under Roman oppression. John is depicted as a mischievous yet curious youngster, reminiscent of Disney’s Aladdin in his spirited demeanor, working alongside his older brother James and their father Zebedee in their fishing business. This relatable portrayal of John as a naive but eager boy allows audiences, especially younger viewers like my nephew and niece, to connect with the story on a personal level.

The animation is nothing short of breathtaking. Drawing inspiration from classics like The Prince of Egypt, the film employs a vibrant, hand-drawn 2D style that feels both nostalgic and fresh. The landscapes of ancient Judea are rendered with sweeping, sunlit vistas, from the shimmering waters of the Sea of Galilee to the dusty streets of Jerusalem. The character designs are expressive and endearing, with Jesus depicted as a warm, approachable figure whose presence radiates compassion and authority. The doves that accompany him, a nod to John 1:32 (“I saw the Spirit come down from heaven as a dove and remain on him”), are animated with such grace that they seem to embody the Holy Spirit itself. My niece, who is eight, was particularly enchanted by the doves, whispering to me during the film that they “looked like they were glowing.” The score, composed with a grandeur that rivals Disney’s finest, elevates every scene, from quiet moments of reflection to the harrowing intensity of the crucifixion. It’s a testament to the filmmakers’ commitment to excellence that even with a modest budget, the animation and music hold their own against Hollywood’s biggest productions.

What makes Light of the World truly special is its ability to weave the gospel narrative into a story that feels both timeless and accessible. The film doesn’t shy away from the weight of Jesus’ life and sacrifice, yet it presents these events through John’s youthful perspective, making them relatable to audiences of all ages. My nephew, who is twelve, was particularly moved by John’s journey from a carefree boy to a devoted disciple. The film captures John’s initial skepticism and curiosity about Jesus, who is introduced as a humble carpenter with a radical message. Scenes of Jesus performing miracles—turning water into wine, healing the sick, and feeding the multitude—are depicted with a sense of wonder that mirrors John’s awe. These moments are not only visually spectacular but also deeply emotional, grounding the divine in the human experience.

One of the film’s most powerful sequences is the crucifixion, which is handled with a delicate balance of reverence and realism. The animators avoid graphic violence, making it suitable for younger viewers, but they don’t shy away from the emotional weight of the event. As Jesus hangs on the cross, the sky darkens, and John’s tearful expression reflects the anguish of witnessing his beloved teacher’s suffering. My niece clung to my hand during this scene, her eyes welling up, and I found myself choking back tears as well. The film doesn’t sugarcoat the cost of Jesus’ sacrifice, yet it frames it as the ultimate act of love, a light piercing the darkness of human sin. The resurrection scene that follows is equally moving, with a radiant Jesus emerging from the tomb, his face glowing with triumph and grace. The theater, though nearly empty, erupted in applause at this moment, a collective acknowledgment of the story’s power to uplift and inspire.

The film’s evangelistic heart is evident throughout, culminating in a poignant altar call at the end, where John and his father invite viewers to accept Jesus. A QR code appears on screen, linking to a “New Believer Course” and supplementary resources. While some might find this direct approach a bit heavy-handed, I appreciated its sincerity. It’s a bold reminder that Light of the World is not just a movie but a ministry, designed to spark conversations about faith. My nephew and niece, who attend church regularly but sometimes find sermons hard to follow, were captivated by this accessible presentation of the gospel. After the film, we spent the car ride home discussing what it means to follow Jesus, a conversation that felt organic and meaningful.

The performances in Light of the World are another highlight. Benjamin Jacobson’s portrayal of John is both charming and authentic, capturing the character’s growth from a playful youth to a devoted follower. David Pettitt as Zebedee brings a grounded, relatable quality to the role of a father trying to protect his family in a turbulent world. The voice of Jesus, provided by Ian Hanlin, strikes a perfect balance of warmth and authority, making every line feel like a gentle invitation to faith. Supporting characters like Mary, the mother of Jesus, and John the Baptist add depth to the story, with moments of compassion and courage that resonate deeply. Mary’s strength during the crucifixion, in particular, left a lasting impression on me, her quiet resolve a powerful testament to a mother’s love and faith.

The film’s pacing is well-executed, clocking in at just under two hours but never feeling rushed or bloated. Each scene serves a purpose, whether it’s advancing the narrative, developing characters, or reinforcing the film’s spiritual themes. The directors, Bancroft and Schafer, both veterans of the animation industry, bring a level of craftsmanship that elevates Light of the World above many faith-based films. Unlike some Christian media that prioritizes preaching over storytelling, this film strikes a balance, weaving biblical truths into a narrative that feels organic and engaging. The humor, often provided by John’s mischievous antics, adds levity without detracting from the story’s weight. My nephew laughed out loud when John accidentally spills a basket of fish at the market, a moment that humanizes the character and makes his journey all the more relatable.

One of the film’s greatest strengths is its ability to appeal to both children and adults. My niece and nephew, despite their age difference, were equally engrossed, each finding something to connect with. For younger viewers, the vibrant animation and relatable protagonist make the story accessible, while adults will appreciate the theological depth and emotional resonance. The film doesn’t shy away from addressing the harsh realities of Roman oppression or the spiritual darkness that Jesus came to overcome, yet it does so in a way that feels hopeful rather than heavy. The theme of light triumphing over darkness, drawn from John 1:4 (“In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind”), is woven throughout, giving the film a cohesive and uplifting message.

The sparse attendance at our screening was both surprising and disheartening. With only a dozen or so people in the theater, it was clear that Light of the World wasn’t receiving the attention it deserves. Yet, the enthusiasm of those present was palpable. When the credits rolled, every person in the theater clapped, a rare and heartfelt response that underscored the film’s impact. My nephew turned to me and said, “That was the best movie I’ve ever seen,” a sentiment echoed by my niece, who declared she wanted to watch it again. Their reactions reminded me of the power of storytelling to inspire faith and wonder, especially in young hearts.

Light of the World is not without its minor flaws. Some viewers might quibble with the creative liberties taken, such as portraying John as a teenager when the Bible doesn’t specify his age. The voice acting, while strong overall, could have benefited from a few bigger names to add star power, as some Christian films have done in the past. However, these are minor critiques in the face of the film’s overwhelming strengths. The animation, storytelling, and spiritual depth far outweigh any small imperfections, making it a standout in the realm of faith-based cinema.

What makes this film particularly significant is its potential to serve as a tool for churches and Christian communities. The Salvation Poem Project has provided free children’s ministry curriculum and family resources through their Church Connect website, making it easy for congregations to integrate the film into their outreach efforts. I can envision youth groups, Sunday school classes, and entire congregations attending screenings together, using the film as a springboard for discussions about faith, sacrifice, and the transformative power of Jesus’ love. The film’s accessibility and universal appeal make it an ideal resource for evangelism, particularly for reaching younger audiences who may be encountering the gospel for the first time.

It’s unfortunate, however, that Light of the World is being overshadowed by darker, more sensational films like Weapons and The Conjuring: Last Rites. These movies, with their focus on violence, horror, and demonic themes, dominate box office charts and media coverage, while a film like Light of the World, with its message of hope and redemption, struggles to find its audience. This disparity reflects a broader cultural trend that prioritizes spectacle over substance, fear over faith. As a Christian, I find it disheartening that stories celebrating the light of Christ are often drowned out by those glorifying darkness. Light of the World deserves better—not just for its artistic merit but for its ability to inspire and uplift in a world that desperately needs it.

In conclusion, Light of the World is a triumph of faith-based filmmaking, a tear-jerker that moved me and my young relatives to tears while filling us with hope and awe. Its stunning animation, heartfelt storytelling, and unapologetic gospel message make it a must-see for families, churches, and anyone seeking a meaningful cinematic experience. The fact that so few moviegoers were present at our screening only underscores the need for greater awareness of this remarkable film. I urge all churches and Christian denominations to organize group outings to watch Light of the World, to share its message with their communities, and to celebrate a story that reminds us of the light that shines in the darkness. In a world where demonic movies like Weapons and The Conjuring garner more publicity, it’s time for films like Light of the World to take center stage, illuminating hearts and minds with the truth of the gospel.

A Reflection on Daylight Savings Time and the Light of Christ

A Reflection on Daylight Savings Time and the Light of Christ

As the clocks sprang forward on March 9, 2025, ushering in Daylight Saving Time (DST), I found myself marveling at the gift of extra evening light. The sun lingered a bit longer, casting its golden glow over the world, and it struck me how this simple shift could feel so rejuvenating. There’s something inherently uplifting about more daylight—it wakes us up, energizes us, and aligns our bodies with the natural rhythms of the earth. Science backs this up: more light regulates our circadian rhythm, that internal clock governing sleep, mood, and vitality. But as I reflected on this physical blessing, a deeper parallel emerged—how the light of God, embodied in Jesus, does the same for our spiritual lives, illuminating our souls and guiding us toward wholeness.

Daylight Savings Time, for all its quirks and controversies, offers a practical lesson in the power of light. Researchers have long noted how exposure to natural light boosts serotonin levels, sharpens focus, and helps synchronize our circadian rhythm—the 24-hour cycle that tells our bodies when to rest and when to rise. Studies, like those from the National Institute of General Medical Sciences, show that longer daylight hours reduce sleep disruptions and even lower rates of seasonal affective disorder. It’s no wonder that, as the days stretch into March, I feel a renewed pep in my step, a clarity that comes from basking in the sun’s rays a little longer. More light, it seems, is undeniably better for us humans, grounding us in the physical world we were designed to inhabit.

Yet, this earthly light pales in comparison to the spiritual light we’re offered through Jesus Christ. In John 8:12, He declares, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.” Just as sunlight regulates our bodies, the divine light of Christ regulates our souls, pulling us out of the shadows of sin, confusion, and despair. I’ve felt this in my own life—those moments when prayer or scripture pierces through a fog of doubt, much like the sun breaking through a cloudy day. The more I turn toward that light, the more aligned my spirit becomes, attuned to a rhythm not of clocks but of eternity.

The parallel isn’t lost on me: DST extends our days, giving us more time to live, work, and connect under the sun, while God’s light extends our spiritual horizons, illuminating paths we might otherwise miss. Both require us to adjust—whether it’s resetting a clock or reorienting our hearts—but the reward is a fuller, more vibrant existence. The Psalmist writes, “Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path” (Psalm 119:105), and I see this mirrored in how daylight guides my daily steps, keeping me from stumbling in the literal dark. Jesus, as the ultimate source of light, does this on a cosmic scale, banishing not just physical darkness but the deeper gloom that can settle in our souls.

Of course, DST isn’t perfect. Some grumble about lost sleep or question its modern relevance—fair points, given its origins in energy conservation rather than human biology. But spiritually, there’s no debate: more light from God is always better. Unlike the sun, which sets each night, Christ’s light never fades. It’s constant, available even in our darkest hours, offering hope where daylight alone can’t reach. And just as I relish these longer evenings, I find myself craving more of that divine radiance—through worship, reflection, or simply sitting in His presence.

As March unfolds and the days grow brighter, I’m reminded that light, in all its forms, is a gift. The extra hour of sunshine lifts my mood and regulates my body, while the eternal light of Jesus restores my spirit and sets my life to a sacred rhythm. Both reveal a truth woven into creation: we were made for light. So, I’ll embrace this season—clocks adjusted, heart open—grateful for the sun above and the Son who reigns, each shining in their own way to make life not just bearable, but beautiful.