5 Sunday Ordinary Time, 6 February 2011, Matthew 5:13-16

In the summer of 2003, a friend of mine and I travelled to Kenya. It was the second summer holidays that we had from the seminary. My friend was a Christian Brother, and so we organised to stay with the brothers in Nairobi, and from there to go out to explore the city, it's people and eventually to go on safari to other parts of the country.

While we were there, we met a Mercy sister from Dublin called Sr Mary Killeen. Sr Mary was something of a maverick sister, but she had great respect within her own community, among the poor people and the addicts that she worked with, and certainly my friend and I were quite awestruck by her.

Sr Mary was very kind to us, and she organised for us to visit various AIDS outreach services: AIDS Clinics in some of the slum areas, and AIDS orphanages, where orphans of those who had died from AIDS were housed. She gave us an introduction to the ministry she had working with drug addicts; helping them to become artists and craftworkers. Reading from Isaiah today:

"Share your bread with the hungry,

and shelter the homeless poor,

clothe the man you see to be naked

and turn not from your own kin.

Then will your light shine like the dawn ..."

Sr Mary also made a small Suzuki jeep available to us for the last days of our time in Kenya. We were warned not to travel after dark because of the many dangers in Kenya at that time. Of course, as you can imagine, we ended up travelling during the hours of darkness, trying to squeeze the most out of the brief time we had left.

One night travelling back to Nairobi, with a good hour's drive ahead of us, we got a puncture. Stopping the car to change the wheel, I was struck by how dark it was when the lights of the car were turned off.

Dark and quiet.

Almost silent.

It was eerie and quite frightening, especially when we remembered that during that day we had seen Lions, Cheetah, Hippos and Zebra. What if one of these frightening, wild animals were to have stumbled on us, and us standing there, trying to change a wheel in the dark?

Light and dark are curious things. The presence of light can make us feel calm, and the dark can make us distressed. Isn't it strange, that we need the dark to fall asleep?

 

"You are the light of the world."

Research has shown that lighting in urban areas during the hours of darkness corresponds with big drop in crime. On the other hand, light can be used as a form of torture to keep a person from falling asleep in the process known as 'sleep deprivation'.

For us Christians, Jesus is the light of the world. He lights up the dark corners of our lives, and of our society and culture. And, this Sunday, we hear the words on his lips:

"You are the light of the world."

As followers, as disciples of Jesus Christ, we are called to be light-bearers in our world.

"If you do away with the yoke,

the clenched fist, the wicked word,

if you give your bread to the hungry,

and relief to the oppressed,

your light will rise in the darkness,

and your shadows become like noon."