In the Gospel for today (Matthew 5:13–16), Jesus refers to us being salt and light. Salt? It’s important to contextualize this for the time period. In ancient times, like today, salt was used as a seasoning – adding its own essence while also enhancing other flavors. It was also used to preserve – maintain quality and prevent spoilage for a prolonged period of time. In addition, salt was used for healing wounds and even as a unit of exchange or payment because of its value.
So when Jesus calls us the “salt of the earth”, I hear a calling that my life is meant to enhance and bring out hidden goodness in situations and to be a source of preservation and healing. When I think about my own daily routines - conversations at work, interactions with family, the way I respond to stress - I realize these are the places where I’m invited to live into my purpose and “be salt.” Not through grand gestures, but through consistency, integrity, and compassion that subtly shape the environment around me.
The image of light reaches even deeper for me. Light doesn’t argue with darkness; it just shines. It reveals what’s true, guides those who are lost, and brings warmth to cold places. Growing up, I sang “This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine” with childlike enthusiasm, not realizing how profound that simple promise really is. Now, as an adult, I understand how easy it is to hide my light - out of fear, insecurity, or feeling defeated. There are days when my light feels small, barely flickering even. But Jesus doesn’t ask me to be the brightest light in the room; He simply instructs me not to hide the light He’s placed within me. “Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine!”
What moves me most is that Jesus speaks in terms of identity, not aspiration. He doesn’t say, “Try to become salt” or “Work on being light.” He says, “You are”. That means my role isn’t to manufacture goodness but to allow God’s goodness to flow through me. When I choose kindness over irritation, honesty over placating, courage over silence, my light shines - not to draw attention to myself, but to reflect the One who lit it in the first place.
In the end, this passage reminds me that even small acts matter. A gentle word, a patient response, a moment of generosity - these are ways my little light shines in ordinary spaces. And just like the song I learned as a child, I feel Jesus inviting me again and again to let that light shine, trusting that He can use even the smallest flame to push back the darkness.
Becky Nickerson
As a Creighton employee of over 20 years, a course instructor, an alumna, and a mom of a Bluejay alum, I am grateful that so much of my journey has been centered in a place that has encouraged me to explore and grow in my faith and live out a mission that is core to my own value system. I love my work, I am rooted in my faith, and I’m really not sure how I could ever separate them at this point. I am excited to be a new contributor to Creighton’s online ministry – learning and serving in a new way.
