Daily Catholic Lectio
Sun, 8 February ‘26
Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Isa 58:7-10. 1 Cor 2:1-5. Mt 5:13-16
Shine in front of others
A blind man was once seen walking at night, carrying a lighted lamp. Someone asked him mockingly, “You are blind. Why do you carry a lamp?” He replied calmly, “This lamp is not to show the way for me, but so that others may see me and not dash against me.” He could not benefit from the light himself, yet the light protected both him and others. This is the kind of light Jesus speaks about today: a light not for self-display, but for the good of others.
We live in an age overflowing with light. Our mobile phones shine constantly. Screens glow in our hands, on our desks, and on our walls. Notifications flash, images flicker, and our eyes are instinctively drawn to these lights. Today, phones shine brightly—but the Gospel gently asks us a deeper question: do our lives shine? Are we luminous with compassion, integrity, and hope, or are we merely surrounded by artificial brightness while our lives remain dim?
In the gospel reading, Jesus tells his disciples, “You are the salt of the earth… You are the light of the world.” He does not say, “Try to become light,” but “You are light.” Discipleship is an identity before it is an effort. Yet light must shine; otherwise, it contradicts its own nature. A phone screen may glow powerfully, but it gives no warmth, no guidance, no meaning. Gospel light, on the other hand, flows from a life shaped by the Beatitudes that precede today’s passage: humility, mercy, purity of heart, and a thirst for justice.
The metaphor of salt reminds us that disciples are meant to preserve and enhance life. Salt does its work quietly. It dissolves into food, losing itself so that others may experience flavour. If it loses its taste, it becomes useless. Likewise, when Christians lose their distinctiveness—when they adopt the same selfishness, indifference, or dishonesty as the world—they lose their capacity to transform. A shining phone cannot replace a life that gives moral taste and direction.
Jesus then speaks of light and a city built on a hill. Light is meant to be visible; a city on a hill cannot be hidden. Faith cannot be locked inside churches or reduced to private feelings. It must take shape in visible goodness. Yet Jesus is careful to add the purpose: “that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.” The goal is not admiration, but revelation—revealing God through our actions.
The First Reading from Isaiah 58:7–10 shows what such shining looks like in practice: sharing bread with the hungry, welcoming the homeless, clothing the naked, removing oppression, harsh words, and pointing fingers. When life becomes generous and just, the prophet promises, “Your light shall rise in the darkness.” This light does not come from screens or stages; it rises from love translated into action.
Saint Paul, in 1 Corinthians 1:26–31, reminds us that this light does not depend on social status, intelligence, or power. God chooses what is weak and insignificant so that no one may boast except in the Lord. Christian light is not self-generated; it is reflected light, flowing from communion with Christ.
The blind man with the lamp teaches us something vital for our digital age. He carried light not to see, but to be seen—so that others might walk safely. In the same way, our lives are called to shine not for self-promotion, but for service. Phones shine, but they often distract. Lives shine when they direct, heal, and protect.
Today, Jesus asks us: amid all the glowing screens, will your life be a lamp? Will your words, choices, and relationships make God visible? When that happens, the world may still be dark—but it will no longer be without light.
Fr. Yesu Karunanidhi
Archdiocese of Madurai
Missionary of Mercy
Yesu Karunanidhi 
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