Homily for the Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time

February 8, 2026

Bob Greene, who was a columnist for the Chicago Tribune, related that one cold night after a game, Chicago Bulls super-star Michael Jordan headed through a large crowd toward his car. As he opened the car door, Jordan saw a youngster in a wheelchair some twenty feet away. The boy’s neck was bent at an unnatural angle; his eyes could not look directly forward. Jordan walked over to the boy and knelt beside him. The youngster was so excited that he began to rise out of the wheelchair. Michael comforted him, talked softly, and put his arm around the boy’s frail shoulder.

The boy’s father tried to snap a picture, but the camera didn’t work. Jordan noticed. Without being asked, he continued to kneel at the boy’s side until the father was able to take the picture. Only then did Michael return to his car.

The boy’s eyes were glistening with tears of joy. His dad was already replaying the moment with his son. If nothing good ever happens again for that little boy, he will always know that on one night Michael Jordan cared enough to include him in his world.

This story reminded me of a particularly effective commercial some years ago. It’s a McDonald’s commercial, and it’s about the relationship of a teen-aged boy and his young sister. It’s obvious that the girl idolizes her older brother, enjoys his presence, and loves him deeply. Well, on one occasion both are in a McDonald’s, but not together. The girl is with her parents, while her brother is together with some of his high school friends. It could be a basketball team celebrating their victory. At one point, the brother gets up from his place, walks over to his sister, and hands her a French fry. The heart-warming moment reveals that the young man cared enough to include his sister in his world.

In today’s gospel reading, Jesus uses two images to describe his followers: salt and light. Salt at that time was used as a preservative, a healing agent, and a substance that added flavor and zest to a meal. Light, of course, enabled people to see in the dark, to get from one place to another safely, and to serve as a protector against scary things, both real and imagined.

As images, salt and light represented gifts that Jesus’ followers had received: they were able to make life better for others, to make life worth living when others were discouraged, to show the way when others were feeling lost or overwhelmed.

It’s like Michael Jackson taking a few moments to notice a boy in a wheelchair, or like an older brother showing his love with a French fry. It’s showing others that we care enough to make them a part of our world. It’s taking time to notice that someone needs an arm around the shoulder, or a word of encouragement, or a simple smile.

Our world, as we know, is terribly divided. People on both sides of the divide feel as if their life is disrupted, out of balance, uncertain, and frightening. How are we to be salt and light for the people of our day?

It seems to me that there’s a growing feeling that people everywhere need to know that their cries of pain and uncertainty are being heard, that we are with them, and that we acknowledge that they are part of our world. There’s a growing feeling that there are values that need to be preserved, always and everywhere, values enshrined in the Beatitudes, which we studied last week: love, compassion, mercy, the thirst for justice and peace. There’s a growing feeling that we can’t hide our love and concern, that people of faith can’t stay on the sidelines. There is a growing awareness that dares to say, we are part of one world. Let us embrace and walk together on the path of forgiveness and healing. This is the path of salt and light