Readings: 2 Timothy 4:1-8 & Matthew 5:13-19
Feast of St. John of the Cross, Confessor and Doctor of the Church (III classis)
Commemoration at Lauds only: St. Chrysogonus, Martyr
“I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith.”
— 2 Timothy 4:7
“You are the salt of the earth… You are the light of the world.”
— Matthew 5:13,14
On this feast of Sanctus Ioannes a Cruce, that seraphic reformer of Carmel, mystic of the night of the soul, and Doctor of Divine Love, the readings given by Holy Mother Church illuminate not merely his sanctity, but the arduous path of all those who burn with love for God amidst a darkened world.
A Life Poured Out: “In the sight of God and of Christ Jesus…”
In the Epistle, St. Paul stands like a spiritual father, giving his final testament to his beloved son, Timothy. The Apostle writes with gravity: “I charge thee… Preach the word: be instant in season, out of season; reprove, entreat, rebuke in all patience and doctrine.” (2 Tim. 4:1-2)
These words could have been spoken by St. John of the Cross himself, that tireless preacher of the interior life, who reproved lukewarmness not with indignation but with the fire of Divine Love. He lived in patientia multa, through imprisonments, cold cells, slanders, and silence—yet always with caritas Dei diffusa est in corde eius.
St. Augustine, commenting on such perseverance, says:
“Love slays what we have been, that we may be what we were not.” (In Joannis Evangelium Tractatus, 123)
Indeed, John of the Cross died daily to himself so as to become wholly consumed in the flame of God’s charity. Like Paul, he poured himself out as a libation—libatio, a drink offering—to the God he loved without reserve.
Salt and Light: The Spiritual Witness of Saints
In the Gospel, Our Lord declares to His disciples: “Vos estis sal terræ… Vos estis lux mundi” (Matt. 5:13-14). To be salt is to preserve, to purify, to prevent decay; to be light is to illuminate, to warm, to guide.
The mystics of Carmel do not shine with noisy brilliance, but with the interior flame of contemplation, that lumen de lumine, as described by Dionysius the Areopagite:
“The divine light is not known by the senses, but by a union of the soul with the Godhead through love.” (The Mystical Theology, ch. 1)
St. John of the Cross was precisely this kind of light—hidden, silent, burning. His Ascent of Mount Carmel and Dark Night of the Soul do not dazzle like the lightnings of Sinai, but purify like the fire of Purgatory. He understood, like few others, that the soul must be emptied of all that is not God to be filled with all that is God.
St. Chrysogonus, whom we commemorate today, testifies to this light by his martyrdom. Though little is known of him, the Roman tradition remembers him as a priest of Aquileia martyred under Diocletian. He offered the supreme witness of salt and light—his very life—sealed in blood, that ancient currency of sanctity.
St. John Chrysostom explains the Gospel metaphor thus:
“If others lose their savor, the salt preserves them; but if the salt itself becomes tasteless, what hope remains? So too the teacher—if he falls, he drags many with him.” (Homiliae in Matthaeum, XV)
This is why Our Lord’s warning is severe: if salt loses its savor, it is good for nothing. A chilling thought for those entrusted with the Gospel. Saints John and Chrysogonus did not lose their savor—they gave their lives to preserve others from corruption.
Application: A Mirror for the Interior Life
St. John of the Cross teaches that the soul must pass through the dark night—detachment, suffering, loss—before union with God. This path is not optional. It is the way of the Cross, the only way. He writes:
“The soul that desires God to surrender Himself entirely to it, must surrender itself entirely to Him without keeping anything for itself.” (The Ascent, Bk. II, ch. 5)
St. Paul’s “fight,” St. John’s “dark night,” and the martyrdom of Chrysogonus all point to the same reality: the total offering of self to Christ. This offering is not poetic; it is cruciform.
Let us then examine ourselves today. Are we salt with savor, or have we conformed to the world? Are we light on a candlestick, or a lamp under a bushel, dimmed by vanity, laziness, or fear?
St. Leo the Great reminds us:
“He that is made the light of the world by the illumination of Christ bears witness to the Gospel by his life.” (Sermon 69, On the Beatitudes)
Closing Prayer
O St. John of the Cross, you who burned with the love of Christ in the night of trial and silence, teach us to walk the narrow way of detachment, to seek not consolation but the God of all consolation. Obtain for us that we may fight the good fight, keep the faith, and be poured out in love—salt of the earth, light of the world.
St. Chrysogonus, steadfast priest and martyr, pray for us.
Per Christum Dominum nostrum. Amen.