MikePaschall.com

In Book of Isaiah 58, the prophet speaks plainly:

Share your bread with the hungry.
Shelter the homeless poor.
Clothe the naked.
Remove oppression, finger-pointing, and malicious talk.

And then comes the promise:
Your light will rise in the darkness. You will be like a watered garden. You will be called Repairer of Broken Walls.

In Gospel of Matthew 5, Jesus echoes that same call:

“You are the salt of the earth.”
“You are the light of the world.”

But notice what He does not say.

He does not say, “You are the whole meal.”
He does not say, “Take control.”
He does not say, “Win at all costs.”

The great temptation of Christianity has always been to believe:
“If only we were in charge… then we could fix everything.”

It sounds reasonable. It feels powerful. But history tells a very different story.

Again and again, whenever Christians have aligned themselves with total control, faith has often been at its most distorted and self-serving. Power is seductive. Power wants more power. And very few people handle it well.

Jesus knew this.That’s why He chose a different metaphor. Not steak. Not the main dish. Not even the vegetables.

Salt.

Salt is small. Invisible. Easily overlooked. But without it? Everything is bland. Salt gives flavor. Meaning. Zing. Desire. Jesus is saying: Be that. Not dominant. Not controlling. Not overpowering.Just faithful. Real. Distinct.

And if salt loses its flavor? It’s no longer offering anything different. That’s the warning. Not that we lose God’s love—God’s love is not negotiable. But if we mirror the same fear, anger, hostility, and hunger for control as everyone else, then what are we offering the world?

Light works the same way. You don’t force people into light. You simply set it on a stand. If it’s real—people are drawn to it.

Faith is strongest not when it is assumed, but when it is chosen. When believers live consciously—intentionally—as salt and light. When they know external systems won’t do their work for them.

We are not called to power-over. We are called to power-under. And that is not weakness. It is invitation. An invitation to anchor our authority not in control, but in love of God and neighbor. In mercy. In justice. In compassion. In lives that actually look different.

Isaiah makes it unmistakably clear:
Free the oppressed. Feed the hungry. Shelter the poor. Clothe the naked. Then your light rises.

If we are not offering the world something it cannot find in politics, status, wealth, or influence—something deeper, truer, more compassionate—then we have lost our purpose.

So perhaps these difficult days are not a setback.Perhaps they are an invitation. An invitation to stop grasping for control. To stop longing to be the whole meal.

And instead—To be salt. To be light. And to trust that humble faithfulness is more powerful than control.

God help us.

MDP