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Salt and Light |
Matthew 5: 13-20
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© John Ewing Roberts |
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INTRODUCTION A pinch of salt, a glimmer of light...little things like a coin, a sheep or a handful of disciples. Jesus had a way of taking what seemed small and insignificant and calling on them to transform the world.[1] One reason we love these verses is that there is no "must," or "should," or "ought," here. Jesus does not say, "You must be the salt of the earth," or "you ought to be the light of the world," He simply pays us a great compliment by saying, "You are the salt of the earth." He speaks the hopeful, encouraging word, "You are the light of the world." Because light comes up so often as a metaphor and symbol in the Bible, and because we have so much to do in our service today, I will concentrate only on the salt image this morning. Salt, sodium chloride, NaCl, cannot lose its saltiness. As often is the case in the parables, there is a subtle, hidden meaning in what looks at first glance like an obvious truth. "If the salt hath lost its taste..." But it can't. It's a staple compound (as Clark Riley verifies) and can't lose its taste. Jesus, who surely knew far more than Clark Riley and John Roberts, knew that. So what was Jesus up to in his apparently simple but puzzling remark? He was saying in effect, "You have heard me say, Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand. You have heard me say, Follow me. You are the salt of the earth. You are who you are. And if you lose your identity - something which by definition should not happen, there are terrible consequences. But be who you are. Be salt. Be light." Notice that Jesus does not tell his disciples how to be salt and light. He simply says, "Be salt, be light, be yourselves. Salt salts, light shines. Act upon on your nature, your identity. Just do what you are meant to do. Many of us creatures who stand behind pulpits should take note that Jesus does not always tell people how to act. Sometimes he does, and sometimes we should too (I'll try at the end of this sermon). But there is a time to remain silent.[2] Long before theologians got around to articulating the doctrine of the priesthood of all believers, Jesus knew that we are made in the image of God, that we have heads, hands and hearts, and that with the help of the Holy Spirit we are capable of using them to figure out how to act. This is one of those "figure it out for yourself" moments. Jesus seems to me to be saying, "You are salt, you are light, it's your identity, you cannot stop being who you are, so get on with it. Be salt! Be light! Be who I say you are!" I like the story of a man who went to visit a famous religious center in a very holy place. He was shown all the treasured relics, and then he was shown a hen. The guide said, "This hen is a direct descendant of the cock that crowed when Peter denied the Lord. It is a very important hen." "That's good," said the visitor, "but does it ever lay any eggs?"[3] I hope no one will think that the point of that story is to go out and "lay an egg for Jesus!" No, I think the story is an effective tale about identity and function. If we are salt, if we are light, if we are who we are, we will be what we are to be, we will do what we are to do. Salt salts, light shines. SALT Salt - what do you think of when you hear the word "salt?" High blood pressure? Low sodium or sodium-free foods? Or maybe you remember making your mother crazy by salting your food before you've even tasted it. "How do you know it needs salting? You haven't had one bite!" Or perhaps when you were a little older and had a date with someone who was a superb cook, she caught you looking for the salt shaker at the outset of the meal. "If you're looking for the salt," she said, "you won't find it. It obscures the subtle flavors of the food." As someone who never met a vegetable or cut of meat that did not cry out for salt, you had a sinking feeling. For Jesus' listeners, salt was what it is for us, a seasoning, but lots more. In Jesus' first century world, salt was best known as a preservative. No refrigerators then. Because salt was a preservative, giving long life to all it permeated, it was used as a symbol of God's eternal covenant with the Hebrew people.[4] Salt was also used as a disinfectant, as in "salt in the wounds." Salt finds the sore spots and stings, but for the good. It may surprise you to know that during the time of Jesus' earthly ministry salt was used as a fertilizer. "Salt was often scattered and worked into the soil in order to enhance the productivity of the land. Indeed as recently as World War II, British farmers compensated for the lack of nitrate fertilizers by once again returning to the ancient tradition of adding salt to croplands for increased fertility."[5] For the salt of the earth to be of value as a fertilizer of the earth, it has to be at work in the earth, moving within and among the soil, making the land more productive and fruitful by subtly changing its very character. And, of course, salt was a seasoning. But the trick about salt as a seasoning is to use just a little, just enough to enhance, not so much that it masks flavor. Mashed potatoes need salt and butter or they're as tasteless as zucchini.[6] If you travel with Jesus, you are salt; you enhance the flavors of life. Salt is a seasoning and as such brings out the flavors that are there. But let's face it - lots of Christians have just the opposite effect; they do not enhance life; instead they are dull, flat, insipid. The great jurist Oliver Wendell Holmes once said, "I might have entered the ministry if certain clergymen I knew had not looked and acted so much like undertakers." The author Robert Louis Stevenson once entered in his diary what he consider an extraordinary phenomenon, "I have been to church today and am not depressed."[7] CONCLUSION The earth needs salt; the world needs light, but mark well this insight, the salt in the soil and the lamp in the dark both need their surroundings in order to change them. Salt and light do not exist for their own sake, but to make a difference and to give glory to God. To make a difference they need the earth to enhance and the world to brighten. A little thing like salt, a fragile thing like light - that's what Jesus wanted his followers to be in the world. He did not say, "You are a great army marching into the world." He did not say, "You are a loud sound system, blasting my message."[8] No, he said "you are the salt of the earth...you are the light of the world," and he knows when we are making a difference in a tasteless and dull world. I don't want to tell you how to be salt and light, but I know it when I see it. Here are some examples. When we stood up for the first hymn this morning, two women in the congregation made eye contact from across the sanctuary and smiled. When you do something like that, you are salt and light. When everyone else is ready to give up on a teenager who is a royal pain, and you speak up for giving him another chance and suggest a fresh approach, you are salt. When someone starts up on her same dreary old pattern of gossip and backstabbing, and you quietly say, "Yes, I know very well how you feel, but I'd like either to help you solve your problem or at least move on to something else," you are light. When your co-worker is having a tough time in his marriage, and you say you'll be there for him, you are salt. When you put a coat in the box in the narthex for the Baltimore City PALS center, you are light. When you put a baseball or bat in the box in the narthex for the Las Margaritas Baptist Church outside Havana, you are salt. When you clear your schedule to be here next Saturday for a Bible study led by a fresh teacher and come to get to know some other Woodbrook people, you are light. When the service is over today and you make eye contact with someone you don't know and smile and say, "Hi, my name is Jane Doe, please tell me your name," you are salt. When you tell a friend, "We're doing something special at our church February 21, a whole service just on gospel songs. It could be fun. Want to come with me?", you are light and salt. But the trick is to be salt and light in just the right way, enhancing and enlightening without calling attention to oneself. When we walk into a room, we don't notice the light if it's just right. We only notice light if it's absent - "It's too dark in here," or if it's too bright, "Cut the lights, I'm going blind in the glare!" And whoever sat down for a perfectly cooked steak, inhaled the wonderful aroma, cut into it and watched the juices flow onto the plate, put a bite on your fork, took it in to your mouth, savored its taste and said, "What good salt this is on the steak!"? A pinch of salt on a steak, a candle in a cave, a quiet word, a generous gesture, salt, light. Salt and light work best when they and we are subtle, unobtrusive, but present in an enriching, enhancing, transforming way. I close where we began, with Jesus' words, this time in a fresh translation: "Let me tell you why you are here. You're here to be salt-seasoning that brings out the God-flavors of this earth. If you lose your saltiness, how will people taste godliness? You've lost your usefulness and will end up in the garbage. "Here's another way to put it: You're here to be light, bringing out the God-colors in the world. God is not a secret to be kept. We're going public with this, as public as a city on a hill. If I make you light-bearers, you don't think I'm going to hide you under a bucket, do you? I'm putting you on a lamp stand. Now that I've put you there on a hilltop, on a lamp stand - shine! Keep open house; be generous with your lives. By opening up to others, you'll prompt people to open up with God, this generous Father in heaven."[9] Notes: [1] William H. Willimon, "A Little Goes a Long Way," Pulpit Resources, Vol 27, No. 1, February 1999, p. 23 [2] Ecclesiastes 3: 7b [3] Brian L. Harbour, "The Results of the Christian Life," Brian's Lines, December 1992, p. 2 [4] Leviticus 2: 13, Number 18: 19, 2 Chronicles 13: 5. "Are You Fit for the Dungheap?", Leonard I. Sweet and K. Elizabeth Rennie, Homiletics, Vol. 5, No. 1, January-March 1993, p. 23 [5] Alan Kreider, "Salty Discipleship," The Other Side, March/April 1989, pp. 34-37, cited by Sweet and Rennie, op. cit., p. 23 [6] Wives in the congregation should note that after this sermon, at least six men came to me at the door to thank me for pointing out that this vegetable has no taste value except for all the wonderful things their spouses mix with it in a valiant effort to give zucchini some gustatory significance. [7] William Barclay, The Gospel of Matthew, Vol. 1 [Philadelphia: Westminster Press] 1958, pp. 116-117 [8] Willimon, op. cit., p. 24 [9] Eugene H. Peterson, The Message - The New Testament in Contemporary English [Colorado Springs, Colorado: NAVPRESS] 1993, p. 16 |