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Jan 31, 2026 Written by 
Preghiera critica

Salt and Light in Vocation

Fullness of minimal and beautiful works, not small and insignificant

(Mt 5:13-16)

 

    "Beautiful works" [which express fullness] are good works, enriched by the splendour of selflessness, listening, hospitality, humble prayer and dialogue, and cordial fraternity.

The plural term (v. 16) indicates - beyond abilities and circumstances - our vocation to reinterpret in a personal way the Self-Portrait of Christ imprinted in the Beatitudes just proclaimed (vv. 1-12).

The theme of the passage is that of fidelity, which integrates and overcomes inconstancy - and the need to seal love with risk, which makes us authentic [last Beatitude: vv.10-12].

The Lord has a surprising trust, because his Plan is to become the flavour and fundamental orientation of human history - not only 'in favour of all', but for each individual (even those considered insignificant).

Of course, only Jesus is the liturgical Amen: the icon of fulfilled humanity, consistency of dedication, the Yes and the finality of the Promises.

But his story has always been contrary to the current mentality.

Therefore, even we - perhaps 'seen' as inadequate - can embody a path where the Gospel arises not only as something common, and therefore 'halfway'.

We each have an irreplaceable role in moments of disruption and Exodus.

We are legitimised without conditions.

God has respect for shortcomings and missing functions: who knows what blessed novelties they hide and are preparing.

In his commentary on the Tao (ii), Master Ho-shang Kung states:

'The original ch'i gives life to all creatures and does not appropriate them', that is, it does not go back, it does not confer the old, backward and fixed order. It does not run for cover; rather, it gives a charge - not partial, but vital and illuminating.

Of course, it is precisely in consumer goods that constant change lies: this confuses the conventional religious idea.

But the fact that our Vocation is: to be and become more and more the Source of Life like the Father, and signs of the Covenant between Heaven and earth (with equal dignity to the Son) values every small divine element in us, or that we promote in our brothers and sisters.

We cannot escape our essence, and we do so with passion - not out of an iron will to 'be' 'salt' and 'light' according to opinion.

So, instead of yearning to return to functioning like everyone else or as before, we will begin to respect our own and others' retreats of the soul.

In its pauses and questions of meaning, it is nurturing the future of the Kingdom.

 

In Jesus' time, flames were obtained from fats: extinguishing a lamp with a breath meant filling the House with nauseating miasmas. 

This is what happens in a voluntarist and inattentive Church, when there is an excess of dirigisme that does not respect the unrepeatable vocational dignity - replaced by manners.

Every blade of grass makes its own distinct contribution to making the field green; this does not mean that it feels constrained - nor can it be extinguished or reduced by a pretentious and ostentatious context that would risk altering it.

 

The Beatitudes have their own fragrance, but it is entirely personal: it would be futile to attenuate their aroma by adding ordinary cream, which sweetens various dishes (but unifies their peaks). Or candyfloss, more suited to festivals of castagnole, castanets and firecrackers, and variety shows.

Their 'salt' combats the insignificance of vain hopes or those of others (béchamel sauce of appearances). It introduces an internal and savoury wisdom into the world of side dishes, salads, carousels and insipidities.

Children look far away, but they stay with the 'pasta'... remaining a living reminder: between God and man [who is himself even in brotherhood] there is an inviolable bond.

In fact, 'Light' is what does not mix with things, but distinguishes them.

This means that, without too many compliments, spiritual discernment must be wrested from the clutches of those who, out of quietism and in order not to cause annoyance to those complacent with power, mitigate and adapt, indeed hide the Gospel - turning it into a lullaby.

The parallel passage in Luke 11:33 concerns the reception of pagans: to bring 'light' to those who enter the House.

Matthew is primarily concerned with those who already dwell there: whose specific weight and life of relationships based on the conviviality of differences must become Light in itself - to allow everyone to understand the difference between the seeds of death and the paths of complete Life.

 

The Israelites considered themselves the 'Light of the world' because of their devotion and impeccable religious practice.

A great Roman parish priest told me that one of the things that had struck him on his travels in the USA was seeing too many Catholic citadels on top of hills, clearly visible to the eye but equally clearly equipped with everything - therefore detached, able to provide for themselves, closed to comparison with today's real urban life.

This approach is diametrically opposed to that of many evangelical communities, which are less conspicuous and do not seek to attract people with their external beauty. They are integrated into the fabric of the city and are therefore able to shed light on the daily lives of people seeking a personal and real relationship with God the Father.

 

For Jesus, the faithful and the community are 'Light' because they walk in the friendly glory of the Master.

He remains the slaughtered Lamb who becomes available food, and does not give the impression of magnificence or clamour; he does not shut himself up in fortresses, nor does he terrorise.

The disciple and the Assembly are 'Salt' because they appear in the world in all circumstances as those who give it meaning, Wisdom [from the Latin sapĕre, to have flavour].

We are called to be a sign of a new Covenant, because the unexpected Relationship of the Mountain that the Son proposes could no longer be contained in the First Covenant.

Christ replaces the ancient demands of purification with those of full brotherhood, which, in valuing each person, gives taste and (precisely) flavour, and becomes a lamp for our steps.

This 'second Covenant' does not crush the believing people. 

The inclination to unravel one's own evolution by becoming protagonists in the Name of the New Agreement will transmit illumination and fragrance to the journey.

In this way, we will allow ourselves to be moulded, yielding to our Core that wants to grow, express itself, and give space to the sides that are still in shadow.

Signs of a Father who recovers and instils guidance on the individual path and that of the Churches - not from the outside, but starting from our roots and like a leaven.

 

We become living Beauty thanks to an activity that is imperfect but has its influence on flowering, from within.

Thus preserving people from the decay of dehumanisation and corruption - like 'salt' with food.

In fact, if not properly understood thanks to the qualitative leap of Faith-love, even religious sense can channel women and men into a thousand streams of cunning...

Towards a decomposition of wisdom, and schematic, disembodied, insipid hastiness - as well as, unfortunately, indistinct fog.

'Salt and Light' are every small divine element already within us. Thus, any effort for beauty, solidity and variety will not be lost - although reduced and diminished: it has its own Mystery and Appeal.

Of course, even in traditional religion, the value of small things is not denied, but they remain small and fixed - without leaps.

In a climate where 'Ne quid nimis' [nothing excessive] prevails, the summary conditions all seem aimed at confirming the system of things and roles.

The cloak of customs weakens the peaks, relegates the personalities of simple people to restricted, insignificant areas, which urge them to invest their energies in vacuous, childish aspects.

The idiocy of certain details is always there, stifling evolution.

 

In Fede's experience, we do not despise even the smallest contribution to the construction of a Kingdom alternative to the current one - sometimes unifying, but based on nonsense and catwalks in obvious disrepair and stench.

Our candles can continue to dispel the darkness, but only until we place them under a 'bushel' (v.15), that is, until we give up, to put them under a slavish 'measure' - which is not the different, propulsive and always new measure of the Beatitudes.

In Christ, we are guided to an evolutionary leap: we are the minute Savouriness of things, and limited Lights, yes - but not inhibited, nor small and 'baby'.

The life of Faith guides and stimulates the building of a kingdom of personal Flavour and Love, without hysteria or intimate dissociations.

This adventure takes the form of a New Covenant between soul, reality, the global and local world, signs of the times and Mystery.

 

Light of Freedom that coincides with our Vocation by Name. Intelligent energy that knows how to draw alternative life even from the wounds inflicted.

 

 

The salt gone mad of religion without Faith: treating ourselves as sick people

(Mt 5:13)

 

One of the possible translations from the Greek of the expression in v. 13 [perhaps the most plausible] is: 'if the salt goes mad'.

Why does it go mad? It refers to personal harmony with the divine Covenant that dwells within us and to which we do not want to give space, even though it would be truly fulfilling.

All this because we are accustomed to living and feeding on external attitudes.

The Covenant would like to guide our little boat even in this time of recovery from the tragedies that are blocking the world, but it is made difficult by the recitation of scripts - by what 'must be done' according to previous ideas and routine.

This expression in Matthew 5:13 is the same as that of the 'foolish' man (Mt 7:26) who builds his house not on the Rock [of Freedom, which coincides with his Calling].

He also 'builds' ostentatious realities, but on unstable elements that we sometimes see as fragile, lacking in substance - therefore without a solid foundation. Rather, they are a reflection of handed-down thoughts, or of calculation and fantasy; excessively sophisticated.

It is also the age-old detachment between ritual devotion and concrete life, which the Christian community unfortunately sometimes demonstrates in the face of a world that awaits answers to needs that touch us and urgent hopes (not those of a 'flock' that we secretly dislike).

Instead, here and there, we would like to rebuild everything as it 'should be' and as it was before... In this way, we would continue carefree to pursue things that are now useless, neglecting the new reality and the essence of character.

Embryonic and genuine inclinations that would give weight to hidden resources, embedded in our cosmic being as creatures and in our most fragrant personal tendencies.

Internal powers that unblock situations.

 

The behaviour of those who have become accustomed to listening - and are eager not to celebrate the Presence of the Lord and live their faith intensely, but to return to 'mass' and the old containers - must not be so blatantly empty, duplicitous, formal and disinterested; so openly contradictory to the authentic Appeal, which the believer himself emphatically proclaims to believe in.

There is a Mystery to follow, which is leading to a different uniqueness. And it wants to draw alternative life - truly ours - precisely from the wounds inflicted.

Nothing to be done: the underlying lacerations remain permanently lurking - those caused by those who would like to engage in critical witness, but are not reborn in unique opportunities... and constantly find themselves prey to constructed ideas, rather than inspired (and in their intelligent energy).

 

In the expression 'salt that goes mad', the author evokes a sort of radical inner split, typical of the personal soul and the unknown Elsewhere that we would finally be called to welcome, instead of opposing.

The Secret that lurks in the present, in fact, can end up being trampled on by external factors, such as institutional expectations, which leave no room for the revolution of habits and goals.

One of these is the precious one of building a praying church in every home.

Even in our spiritual life, we often want to be like the devout models we have in mind, or even stronger (perhaps to resemble our guides).

These are thoughts that neither convince nor stir the heart. In reality, they become vocational blocks, inhibiting the primordial virtue that belongs to us - convincing, it would move us further.

Christ calls us to acknowledge our unfettered uniqueness and unpredictable eccentricity - the only factor for recovery.

Exceptionality that for Him is not a disturbance, but an authentic resource.

We do not know how He will guide us and where He will lead us; what new eras (which will open up Other, and we do not know) He will allow us to enjoy, proceeding in the adventure of the Beatitudes just proclaimed (vv. 1-12).

 

This is the profound experiential difference between religiosity and Faith.

The latter corresponds to us because it is lovable in its intimacy. It does not take a pessimistic view of the tide of life.

It focuses on the innate perfection of our ways of being, however unique and unexpected.

In short:

We are not people to be cured. In terms of vocation, each of us is already mysteriously gifted and perfect.

By truly entrusting ourselves to the Call by Name instead of to identifications that plagiarise and leave us brooding in vain, we will reach the fullness of being.

The golden age will coincide with the time of experiences that make us feel completely alive.

Even moments of emptiness will serve to regenerate us and shift our perspective. We will realise that nothing is missing.

Instead, by entrusting our story to the narrow-minded idea of perfection and old situations to be regained, multiplying resolutions with expectations that do not concern us, we will only succeed in shattering ourselves.

In this way, we will never feel satisfied with the growth of the sense of immensity in our particular being and development.

The great Models (which then betray us) force us into criticism and the anxiety of chasing after things - to treat ourselves as if we were sick: full of discord within our souls and torment in our minds.

It is the madness of the obvious, which through conformist quietude or a crazy expenditure of energy promises to take possession of who knows what, but does not make the germinal leap of the life of Faith.

Spousal trust and creative gesture that wants to welcome everything: states of discomfort, aspects in shadow, nascent tides - and expand Happiness.

 

 

Lumen Fidei

 

1. The light of faith: with this expression, the tradition of the Church has indicated the great gift brought by Jesus, who, in the Gospel of John, presents himself thus: 'I have come into the world as light, so that whoever believes in me may not remain in darkness' (Jn 12:46). St Paul also expresses it in these terms: "And God, who said, 'Let light shine out of darkness,' has shone in our hearts" (2 Cor 4:6). In the pagan world, hungry for light, the cult of the Sun God, Sol invictus, invoked at sunrise, had developed. Even though the sun rose every day, it was well understood that it was incapable of shining its light on the whole of human existence. The sun, in fact, does not illuminate all of reality; its rays are incapable of reaching the shadow of death, where the human eye is closed to its light. "Because of their faith in the sun," says St Justin Martyr, "no one has ever been seen ready to die." Aware of the great horizon that faith opened up for them, Christians called Christ the true sun, "whose rays give life." To Martha, who weeps for the death of her brother Lazarus, Jesus says: "Did I not tell you that if you believe, you will see the glory of God?" (Jn 11:40). Those who believe see; they see with a light that illuminates the entire path, because it comes to us from the risen Christ, the morning star that never sets.

An illusory light?

2. Yet, when we speak of this light of faith, we can hear the objection of many of our contemporaries. In the modern age, it was thought that such a light might have been sufficient for ancient societies, but that it was not needed in the new era, for man who had become an adult, proud of his reason, eager to explore the future in new ways. In this sense, faith appeared to be an illusory light, preventing man from cultivating the audacity of knowledge. The young Nietzsche invited his sister Elisabeth to take risks, travelling "new paths... in the uncertainty of independent progress". He added: 'At this point, the paths of humanity diverge: if you want to achieve peace of mind and happiness, have faith, but if you want to be a disciple of truth, then investigate'. Believing would be opposed to seeking. From this point onwards, Nietzsche developed his criticism of Christianity for diminishing the significance of human existence, robbing life of novelty and adventure. Faith would then be like an illusion of light that prevents our journey as free men towards tomorrow.

3. In this process, faith ended up being associated with darkness. It was thought that it could be preserved, that a space could be found for it to coexist with the light of reason. The space for faith opened up where reason could not illuminate, where man could no longer have certainties. Faith was then understood as a leap into the void that we take for lack of light, driven by a blind feeling; or as a subjective light, perhaps capable of warming the heart, of bringing private consolation, but which cannot be offered to others as an objective and common light to illuminate the path. Little by little, however, it became clear that the light of autonomous reason cannot sufficiently illuminate the future; in the end, it remains in darkness and leaves man in fear of the unknown. And so man has given up the search for a great light, for a great truth, to be content with the small lights that illuminate the brief moment, but are incapable of opening the way. When light is lacking, everything becomes confused; it is impossible to distinguish good from evil, the road that leads to the goal from the one that makes us walk in repetitive circles, without direction.

A light to be rediscovered

4. It is therefore urgent to recover the character of light proper to faith, because when its flame is extinguished, all other lights also lose their vigour. The light of faith has a unique character, being capable of illuminating the whole of human existence. For a light to be so powerful, it cannot come from ourselves; it must come from a more original source, it must come, ultimately, from God. Faith is born in the encounter with the living God, who calls us and reveals his love to us, a love that precedes us and on which we can rely to be steadfast and build our lives. Transformed by this love, we receive new eyes, we experience that in it there is a great promise of fulfilment, and the future opens up before us. Faith, which we receive from God as a supernatural gift, appears as a light on the road, a light that guides our journey through time. On the one hand, it comes from the past; it is the light of a founding memory, that of the life of Jesus, where his fully trustworthy love, capable of overcoming death, was manifested. At the same time, however, since Christ is risen and draws us beyond death, faith is a light that comes from the future, opening up great horizons before us and leading us beyond our isolated 'I' towards the breadth of communion. We understand then that faith does not dwell in darkness; that it is a light for our darkness. Dante, in the Divine Comedy, after confessing his faith before St Peter, describes it as a "spark, / which expands into a lively flame / and sparkles in me like a star in the sky". It is precisely this light of faith that I would like to speak about, so that it may grow to illuminate the present and become a star that shows us the horizons of our journey, at a time when humanity is particularly in need of light.

(Lumen Fidei)

4 Last modified on Saturday, 31 January 2026 05:46
don Giuseppe Nespeca

Giuseppe Nespeca è architetto e sacerdote. Cultore della Sacra scrittura è autore della raccolta "Due Fuochi due Vie - Religione e Fede, Vangeli e Tao"; coautore del libro "Dialogo e Solstizio".