Salt and light

After Matthew 5:13-16 

You are both

salt and light,

salt to season

and enhance, 

and light

to shine so

others may

see. You are

salt to flavor

the message,

you are light

to illuminate

the truth.

You are salt

to preserve;

you are light

to dispel

the darkness.

 

Photograph by Tim Hufner via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Some Sunday Readings

 

How Do I Live in God’s Presence Every Day? – Daniel Hyde at Reformation 21.

 

The Defining Mark of the Christian – Robb Brunansky at The Cripplegate.

 

Driving Through Cornfields: Past the End of the World – Timothy Willard at Rapt.

Light

After Matthew 5:13-16 

Light shines,

light illumines,

dispelling darkness

allowing truth to be

seen. No one uses

light to hide it,

or bring it. Light

is used to shine

upon the truth.

 

Put your light

upon a stand,

elevated to shine

in the household,

in the village,

in the land,

in the world.

 

Let your light shine

for others to see,

to allow others

in darkness come

into the light.

 

Photograph by Dyu-Ha via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Some Friday Readings

 

“The Beginning of Contemplation,” poem by Gail Fox – D.S. Martin at Kingdom Poets.

 

“The Kingdom of God,” poem by Francis Thompason – Megan Willome at Poetry for life.

 

Eclipsing the Sun – Seth Lewis.

 

The Ministry of Saying Less – Peter Mead at Biblical Preaching.

Salt

After Matthew 5:13-16 

Use salt to enhance

the taste, just enough;

too little and it doesn’t

work; too much, and it

ruins the food. Leave

it on the shelf too long,

not using it, and it’s

good only to be thrown out.

 

You are salt,

salt of the earth,

used when the time

is right, when

the seasoning is

needed, to bring

the full flavor

of the food.

 

Photograph by Pavel Neznanov via Unsplash. Used with permission. 

Some Sunday Readings

 

An Overlooked Argument for Christianity – Gavin Ortlund at The Gospel Coalition.

 

When Your Child Moves Out as an Unbeliever – Stephen Jones at Increase Our Faith.

 

The Church Is Not a Museum – poem by Theresa Burley at What Christians Want to Know.

Salt and light

I spilled the salt

but forgot to throw

some over my shoulder

so the grains lay quietly

on the tablecloth, the white

blending into starched

and ironed cotton white.

The salt began to sparkle,

vibrating against the cloth

as if the cloth was pulling

away from the table,

which it was. I heard

a woman at the next table

laugh.

I spilled the light

upon the floor, and the rays

flooded across the unmapped

surface, the crumbs and dustballs

casting shadows for the first time.

I didn’t realize how invasive,

or revealing,  light could be.

Photograph by Peter Griffin via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission.