St Columba left everything behind for Christ.
He left his homeland.
He left familiarity.
He left comfort.
And he sailed into the unknown.
Eventually he arrived on Iona,
that small island from which the Gospel would spread throughout much of Scotland.
Why?
Because he believed something that many modern Christians have forgotten.
He believed that souls matter.
He believed that Jesus Christ is worth giving your life for.
He believed that the Gospel changes people.
And today’s Gospel captures St Columba perfectly.
“You are the salt of the earth.”
“You are the light of the world.”
Notice that Jesus does not say: “You might become the salt of the earth.”
Or: “Perhaps one day you will become the light of the world.”
He says: You are.
If you belong to Christ, you are meant to make a difference.
Salt in the ancient world preserved things from corruption.
Light drove away darkness.
And that is precisely what Christians are meant to do.
Not dominate.
Not shout.
But bring Christ wherever they are.
Into families.
Into workplaces.
Into communities.
Into ordinary life.
The danger is that salt can lose its taste.
Light can be hidden.
And Christians can become so similar to the world around them that nobody notices any difference.
The saints never allowed that to happen.
Certainly not Columba.
People met him and knew they had encountered a man who belonged to God.
Not because he was perfect.
But because God was at the centre of his life.
Then we hear in the first reading about the widow of Zarephath.
She has almost nothing left.
A handful of flour.
A little oil.
Enough for one final meal.
And then Elijah arrives asking for hospitality.
From a human point of view,
the request seems impossible.
Yet she trusts.
And God provides.
Again and again.
The jar does not run empty.
The oil does not fail.
There is a lesson there for every Christian.
God often asks us to trust Him before we can see how things will work out.
The widow trusted.
Columba trusted.
Neither could see the whole future.
Neither knew how God would provide.
But they stepped forward in faith.
And perhaps that is where many people struggle.
We prefer certainty.
We prefer guarantees.
We prefer to know exactly how everything will unfold.
But faith means entrusting ourselves to God before we can see the end of the story.
That is what Columba did.
Imagine looking at that tiny island of Iona.
Wind.
Rain.
Rock.
Nothing impressive.
Yet from that small place God changed nations.
Because God delights in working through what appears small.
A few apostles.
A widow’s jar of flour.
A monk on a remote island.
And through them He changes the world.
The same remains true today.
People often look at the Church and see small numbers,
ageing congregations, many challenges.
But God has never depended on large numbers.
He asks for faithful people.
People willing to be salt.
People willing to be light.
People willing to trust Him.
And perhaps that is the challenge of today’s feast.
Not to admire St Columba from a distance.
But to ask: Where is God calling me to be salt?
Where is He calling me to be light?
Perhaps in my family.
Perhaps among friends.
Perhaps simply through faithfulness in prayer,
kindness, patience, and courage.
The saints changed the world because they allowed Christ to shine through them.
And so today we thank God for St Columba.
A missionary.
A monk.
A saint.
A man who trusted God enough to leave everything behind.
And we ask for the grace to do the same in our own way.
Because the Gospel is still needed.
Souls still matter.
And Christ still calls His disciples to be the salt of the earth and the light of the world.