Sermon by Kit Allgood-Mellema
Scriptures: Psalm 112:1-9, (10); Isaiah 58:1-9a, [9b-12]; 1 Corinthians 2:1-12, [13-16]; Matthew 5:13-20
8 February 2026_The Fifth Sunday After the Epiphany, Year A
Before moving to Sitka, we lived in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, in an area known as the Copper Country. The copper industry had ceased years before, but one of the local mines offered tours, so we decided to check it out. The tour finale took place at the end of 2,000-foot horizontal tunnel; after warning us, the guide reached over to a switch. The light went off and we were plunged into total darkness for about 30 seconds while the tour guide continued to speak. The experience of darkness was a bit scary and completely disorienting. It felt as if the darkness had absorbed the air out of the space. I knew Jim was next to me, but my senses said, ‘maybe not!’ The system of body sensors in my muscles and joints that helps maintain balance were struggling to work properly without my brain having a focal point on which to fix.
On the way home that day we talked about times we’d experienced real darkness in places without artificial or man-made light – while camping in the mountains, sitting outside in the desert, out on the open ocean, or during a night dive in a remote area. Nothing compared to the absence of light we had just experienced.
I thought about that kind of darkness this last week when the power went out through most of the town just before 9:00 at night. The sudden darkness was startling, but not scary or disorienting. Before we turned on the battery lights, I went out onto the deck simply to feel the darkness for a few moments. The outage was over quickly and forgotten by the morning.
All the scripture readings we heard today, with no exception, took place in times when sundown meant real darkness. The sources of artificial light - untended lamps, lanterns and fires - could be dangerous; kindling had to be sought and carried, and lamp oil was expensive and used sparingly. Small fires might be lit to guide travelers to safety or to keep wildlife at bay, but generally nighttime meant darkness.
Life itself was dark for the people of the time. They had lived under foreign occupation and despotic rule for centuries, struggling for freedom, praying for hope, justice and peace. The darkness of life was a heavy burden to carry. When Jesus appeared, the people were aching for his words and for the promise of new life, and they were eager for a guiding light, a light on which to focus, to fix their gaze and give them balance as they moved forward. And then they heard the words we heard in today’s gospel reading, words that began where last week’s reading left off – after the Beatitudes and at the beginning of what we call ‘The Sermon on the Mount.’
Jesus told the people around him, ‘You are the light of the world.’ They were stunned. Light was valuable, and the materials to create light were hard to come by, yet here was this man telling them they were the light of the world – let your light shine! You have light to share! He was telling them their lives had value and meaning, their lives were precious to God, to Jesus, to everyone who came into their presence! This was unheard of, but the people were amazed and moved.
These days light is difficult to escape, isn’t it. How do we hear Jesus’s words today, in our time and place where light is available at the flick of switch, yet in a time and place where life feels dark and heavy? Do we hear them in the spirit of hope? Do we hear them as an affirmation of our own worth and value – ‘You are the light of the world – let your light shine for others’? When we hear them, do we hear that we are God’s beloved people, full of the light that has been in existence since the beginning? In a world that is begging for light – the light of hope and justice and peace - Jesus says, Let your light shine – let my light shine through you. Be the light others can fix on to find focus and balance as they move forward and do my work in the world.
In a short time, we will gather in the See House to share a meal and have our annual meeting. We will look forward, asking your help in the year to come. We will take some time to look at last year – the work done, the relationships nourished, the outreach we have worked on, the ways we have been the light of the world. And we will have a time of discussion and listening, exploring our shared life and thinking about the next steps we take as a family, a community, as God’s people.
Imagine Jesus walking into our gathering, our conversation, and telling us, ‘You are the light of the world – let your light shine before others!’ Now imagine where could that take us, our gathering of God’s beloved, precious, valuable people? Imagine that light – and shine!
Thanks be to God!