Verse 22: "Salt & Light"

The three of us sat around the fire as Niels retrieved some of the meat from his pack and prepared it for our meal.
          “So, Shinko, does Alexander's story resonate with you?” Vivian asked politely. “Or do you think it was something you ate? You did seem pretty famished this morning; maybe you swallowed something harmful by mistake.”
          “N-no, nothing like that. I suddenly had a headache, that’s all. I should probably drink more water; I’ve been eating a lot of salty food lately.”
          “Salty food? What does that have to do with anything?” Niels asked curiously. “How could salt make you more prone to headaches?”
          I returned the curious look, before realizing that people probably hadn’t discovered that particular effect of salt.
          “Well, in my studies at the monastery, we used salt for a lot of things. But consuming too much salt leads to being dehydrated, and being dehydrated leads to headaches.”
          Vivian walked over to Niels and picked up one of the pieces of meat that he had finished roasting over the fire.
          “That doesn’t seem like something you’d learn at a monastery.” She mumbled, then took a bite of her meat. “Then again, what do I know? I’ve never studied at one.”
          She was right; I tried to think of a way to make my knowledge of salt sound more religious.
          “See Vivian, at the monastery, we talked a lot about salt. Those of us who are in the church are supposed to be salt and light to the rest of the world.” John had told me that many times.
          Vivian nodded, then smirked.
          “So, what, does that mean you’re supposed to make people thirsty and give them headaches?” She laughed, and I laughed along with her. Hearing me laugh made her stop and look at me.
          “Wait, you think that’s funny?” She asked.
          I wanted to say yes, but I would need to qualify my agreement with something to not look like I was laughing at my religion.
          “O-oh, Vivian; I, er, just hadn’t thought about it that way.” I sighed. “Anyway, yes, we’re supposed to bring light to the world; salt is the only thing that is, well, salty! If salt loses its flavor, salt becomes worthless and is thrown out.”
          Vivian tilted her head at that. After a few moments, she spoke up again.
          “Wait, Shinko, doesn’t that kind of imply that… I don’t know, unless you’re useful to the church, then you’re not worth anything?”
          I stood still. Niels looked up from his spot tending to the meat. I opened my mouth to reply, but I couldn’t think of anything.
          “She’s got you there Shinko.”
          I knew that I had said something like that to John before; I tried to remember his reply.
          “That seems like a pretty bad way to view people, don’t you think?” Vivian pressed.
          “Hold on a moment, I remember now.” I held up my hand.
          Vivian and Niels both looked eager to hear my response.
          “It’s not that people outside the church are worthless; but rather, as a member of the church, I am called to be salt and light to those outside the church… so, um, ergo…”
          I had nearly lost track of it; I did a silent prayer asking that I'd remember what it was John had told me in defense against this question. Once I finished praying, Niels tapped me on the shoulder.
          “Here you go.” He handed me a piece of the meat. I bit into it slowly, savoring the taste.
          Once Niels grabbed a piece of meat for himself, the three of us looked up at the night sky, and I realized something that had completely passed me by until that moment. 
          I could see the stars.
          The entire sky was full of stars as far as the eye could see. There were swirling patterns in the night of galaxies, distant suns that had already gone out, and little planets brightly reflecting the light of their own stars.
          “You see that?” Vivian pointed up at a seemingly random patch of stars. “That’s the constellation of the grand key. Next to it is the minor key. Over there, I think, is the strongman.”
          Until Vivian pointed them out to me, I couldn’t see the stars as anything other than beautiful diamonds arranged over black velvet in random patterns. 
          However, with each constellation she pointed out, I began to see the craftsmanship in the sky. Each star was like a carefully arranged jewel on a grand black dress, and though to the casual observer’s eye it might have appeared like a random pattern, it was actually arranged in just the right way for faint images to emerge.
          Niels put out the fire, then looked up at the sky with a brief smile.
          “Humans. Always obsessed with looking up for beauty.” He shook his head. “Tomorrow night, I’ll show the two of you some really beautiful things that, right now, you’re completely oblivious–”
          “Niels, shut up.” Vivian said calmly. “We’re stargazing.”
          Niels snorted in disbelief, then laughed.
          “Guess I deserved that.”
          As I laid on the grass of the clearing next to Vivian, I finally remembered John's rebuttal.
          “Right; Vivian, about the ‘salt’ thing.”
          “Oh? You finally finished that idea?” She turned over on her side to look me in the eyes.
          As she laid down on her side facing me, her long wavy brown hair curled over her shoulders and neck, making her blue eyes stand out even more in the dim light of the evening.
          “Y-yes.” I cleared my throat. “You see, as a member of the church, I am called to be salt and light to those outside the church. People like, oh, you and Niels, who are outside the church, are not called to be salt and light.” I breathed in slowly. “So you see, if I fail to be what I am called to be, I am like flavorless salt; I am failing to do what I was called to do. It’s not a commentary on people who aren’t righteous outside the church; it’s about those inside the church who are failing to be righteous.”
          “That… that makes a lot of sense.” She ran her hand over a few blades of grass. “I guess it implies that people outside the church need help though.”
          There it was; I waited for her to say what I had always told John after our talks.
          “Vivian, I don’t think you need to be fix–” I started.
          “Thanks for shining some light onto me, Shinko.” Vivian said quietly.
          My jaw dropped.
          She looked at my shaken expression and seemed surprised.
          “I’m thanking you; is it that surprising?” She asked genuinely.
          Why had she thanked me? I had told her that the goal of the church was to tell people that they were broken and needed fixing; why would she like me saying that?! 
          “E-er, well, um… you’re welcome, I suppose.” I muttered. “Doesn’t what I said… bother you?”
          “Not really. I think everyone’s broken. It’s a good thing that there are some strange priests out there in the church who are really trying to help people get fixed.”
          Niels didn’t interrupt us, and went off to his own tent to sleep.
          “B-but, don’t you think it’s arrogant of me to… to say that I can fix you?” I said. Technically, that wasn’t what John had actually believed; he’d always made it clear that “God did the fixing,” but it didn’t seem like an important distinction to me.
          “Is that what you meant?” She sounded surprised. “I thought it was about God fixing people. I mean, when we first met, you said that ‘God had mercy on me.’ I kind of figured that it was God who would do the fixing too.”
          Unfortunately, she'd seen the distinction.
          My eyes narrowed. What I had just attempted to do was incredibly deceptive. It wasn't like I was actually a priest, but actively lying about John’s faith to someone who was interested in it was a step too far for me. My stomach churned uncomfortably. That was an awful thing to do.
          “N-no, Vivian. Sorry; you’re right. God does the fixing too. Not the church.”
          Vivian pursed her lips.
          “Yeah, I thought so; it’d be weird to have your God do the forgiving, but then the church has to do the fixing.” She yawned. “I’m going to go to sleep. Good night, strange priest.”
          I watched her stand up and walk over to her tent. A few minutes later, I went to my own, contemplating my attempted dishonesty.

Edited on 09/18/25