As I pushed my shopping cart up to the yogurt case, I was scanning the shelves to see what was on sale.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a little girl—maybe 5 or 6 years old—who was wearing a Pokemon hat. She was bouncing up and down next to her mother, who also had a toddler in her shopping cart.
The mother was reading yogurt flavors out loud, and the girl was picking the ones she liked.
“Mommy,” I heard her say, “what does peach yogurt taste like?”
Her mother was clearly stumped for an answer.
“I don’t know,” she said. “It tastes like peaches. It tastes like peach yogurt.”
We exchanged a smile, and I was still thinking about it later.
“What does peach yogurt taste like?” It’s a hard question to answer.
It tastes like the sweetness of summer, the fullness of fruit. It tastes like a cool treat on a warm afternoon. It tastes like comfort and home. It tastes like color in your mouth. The yogurt tastes a little like ice cream but with a little bit of a gentle tartness, but with the sugary flavor of the fruit.
If you don’t like peach yogurt, your answer is very different from mine.
But you really can’t describe it to someone who’s never tasted it—especially if they’ve never tried peaches or yogurt. You need to try it yourself to know.
Some questions are difficult to answer. I think that about faith questions too. What is it like to receive the Eucharist? What is it like to participate in Mass and believe in the miracle that is unfolding on the altar? What is it like to believe that this life we are enjoying is just a part of a whole extraordinary journey that leads us to God? What is it like to believe?
Finding the right words can be difficult—especially when some of the questions are so big. But that doesn’t mean we don’t try to find the words—and share them with others who are curious. I was thinking that at Mass this Sunday as I stood between my children and hoped that seeds of faith are taking root in their hearts.
The Gospel reminded us that we are the salt of the earth and the light of the world. Our homilist assured us that we are meant to offer hope to those around us. And I found myself thinking of how we can try to do that, whether with words or actions or a combination of the two.
What does it mean to be salt and light to others in this troubled, complicated world? It’s a weighty question and a powerful one.
Isn’t it incredible that God has such faith in us, that he recognizes all we can offer to the world, that he asks us not to hide our light under a bushel? Even when we are still fumbling through the darkness ourselves, we have so much to offer.
Maybe we struggle to find the words. But we can invite others to accompany us on this journey, offering them a taste of what we are experiencing. We are salt and light, and we have the opportunity to share hope and joy with those around us. Maybe in the hecticness of our busy lives, we can still find a way to offer someone a taste of that.
After all, it’s even better than peach yogurt.
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