Ordinary Light in a Weary World – February 3, 2026

Full St. Nick’s News for February 3, 2026

Dear Friends,

I keep hearing the same thing from so many: “I’m just so tired.”

Tired of the news.

Tired of the noise.

Tired of trying to stay hopeful when the world feels heavy.

Which makes this week’s Gospel both timely and very good news. In Matthew’s Gospel, during the Sermon on the Mount, we will hear Jesus look out at the gathered crowd and say: “You are the salt of the earth. You are the light of the world.”

Not try harder.

Not someday you will be salt or light.

But you are.

A few years ago, my family and I were in Australia and visited Uluru, also known as Ayers Rock. One night we went to see the Field of Light—a massive art installation by artist Bruce Munro with more than 50,000 glowing glass spheres spread across the desert floor. Powered by solar energy and connected by fiber-optic cables, the whole desert begins to glow as the sun goes down. The colors echo the reds and blues of the surrounding land, and the lights move gently with the wind like a field of luminous flowers.

At first, you can’t see them. Just blackness and stars. Then suddenly, the lights come on.

Our son Patrick whispered, “Whoa.” Then, “This is beautiful.”

It really was—waves of color glowing in the darkness. But nearby, a loud group was joking and shouting, breaking the spell of the moment. Finally, Patrick said in frustration, “I just want to focus on the light.”

His words felt like holy wisdom to me. Me too, Patrick. Me too…

And really, isn’t that the struggle? We catch a glimpse of something good—beauty, kindness, grace—and then the noise barges in. Fear gets louder than hope. Negativity crowds out wonder. Before we know it, we forget what we were looking at.

Jesus knew this about people. He understood the ways of the world and the weight of human life. That is why he did not say, “Try to be light.” He said, “You are light.”

He was speaking to people worn out by bad systems and hard lives. And still, he saw something shining in them. He named it out loud. As Barbara Brown Taylor says, sometimes God does not fix the darkness right away—God lights a lamp inside it.

Even the disciples shined in different ways: Thomas shined with questions. James and John with bold energy. Peter with stubborn loyalty. Different lights. Same source.

So here is the good news for tired people like us:

You do not have to blaze like a spotlight.

You do not have to solve the world.

You just have to glow where you are.

This week, notice the light around you and within you. Notice the kind word. A loved one taking a deep breath instead of using a sharp one. The prayer whispered in a car. The small act of mercy no one else sees. The smile toward a stranger. The conversation where understanding matters more than winning.

These are not accidents. They are the places where God keeps showing up in ordinary life.

You are salt.

You are light.

Not because you are dazzling, but because God has chosen to dwell in you. And when your light feels thin or flickering, remember: even a small flame changes the shape of the dark.

Together, as St. Nick’s, we are learning how to live like a lamp set on a table— not to impress the world, but to make it possible to see one another again. So go gently into this week. Pay attention to the quiet mercies. Trust the small brightness God has placed within you and in your care.

God’s Peace, Love, and Blessings,

Rev. Beth+