“Salt and Light”

Rev. Matthew Miller

FROM THE GOSPELS Matthew 5:13-16 click here to watch the sermon "Salt and Light"

This particular passage from Jesus’ teaching to his disciples on a mountain in Galilee calls to mind all the ways in which salt gets used on a regular basis. There is the obvious salt shaker that graces tables of every kind, from the kitchen table at home to the fancy dining tables of Michelin starred restaurants; always there to provide a little extra flavor. Further north, salt gets used in the wintertime to melt the ice on steps, sidewalks and roads to make them less treacherous. Every month or two I’m instructed to pick up a bag of salt to soften the water we use at our house for bathing, laundry or drinking. Several years back I brought packets of bath salts back from the Dead Sea for our family to use. Now we have everything from simple Epsom salts to fancier fare for soaking in the tub. The skin benefits have led to a whole line of cosmetics that feature the cleansing properties of salt. Do a little more research, and you’ll find there are far more uses for salt than you might have ever expected. As far back as 8,000 years ago, the Chinese recognized the value of the salt that formed on the surface of Yuncheng Lake. Long before refrigeration, or even reliable methods for canning, salt was a valuable preservative for keeping meat and brining vegetables for future consumption. In fact, at one point salt was such a valuable commodity that it served as its own form of currency and is the root of the word we continue to use to talk about how we are paid for our work- salary. The more you dig, the more evident it becomes how essential salt is- not just for flavoring, cleansing, healing and preserving, but for life itself. Salt is one of the primary electrolytes in the human body, regulating hydration, blood pH, as well as nerve and muscle function. No wonder countries have gone to war over it. Before Dr. King led the march from Selma to Montgomery, Alabama to protest the racist Jim Crow laws of the American South that were used, among other things, to keep people of color from voting, Gandhi led the salt march protest in India in 1930, walking some 240 miles to the Arabian Sea to illegally make salt. The ruling British colonial authority had passed the Salt Act in 1882 prohibiting Indians from collecting or selling salt, forcing them to buy if from the British monopoly who had placed a heavy tax on the essential dietary staple.  

As we explored last week, Jesus opens his teaching by talking to his disciples about how the blessing to be had in the Kingdom of Heaven, the Reign or Kinship of God that is right in front of us, is something we encounter or receive not as a result of what we do to earn or deserve it, but out of God’s desire to bless us in even the most spiritually bereft and unlikely of places. Places that the powers of this world rarely consider to be blessed. From there he pivots from these blessings to declare, “You are the salt of the earth,” which sounds like a bit of a non-sequitur if you ask me. The point that he appears to me making is that the blessings found in this real-reality of God made near- God’s priority, God’s activity- is not something that can be grasped or banked for later.  It isn’t ours to put behind glass and admire like some kind of trophy for having gained God’s approval. The profound happiness that comes from knowing God’s nearness and taking part in what God is up to in the world has a use that goes far beyond any personal benefit we might derive from it. What that means is that God has a use for each of us too, as those who know that blessing. It is who we are called to be. Jesus is in effect saying, “because you are blessed in this way, you’ve got a role to play- a job to do- in the here and now of God’s heaven come to earth. You are salt. Notice the verb choice, though. He doesn’t say, “you should try to be salt.” It isn’t an aspiration, “someday you’ll be salt.” No, it is a declaration of who we are right now, at this moment, as those who live in the blessed light of what God is doing. You are salt. 

You- who know how good a life lived with and for God can be- you are the flavor in an often all too bland world. You are the cleansing agent for hearts filmed over by cynicism and distrust. You bring healing to pain that runs deep. And you preserve what is worth saving in this world: wonder, mercy, and love. That is what Jesus means when he calls us salt. He means that what we do in the world no matter how small counts for something, means something.  

A few years back, I made a batch of chocolate chip cookies. I was making them from a favorite recipe, when I completely skipped adding the suggested amount of salt. Not much, really, compared to everything else in the recipe. They. Were. Terrible. I mean really just inedible. Such a small ingredient comparatively speaking, but essential. It’s easy to see our lives as small and inconsequential compared to the people who make policy and who make the news. But Jesus wants us to know that our being in the world, no matter how small, counts for something, represents something that is irreplaceable. Who we are fulfills in its own way the coming of God’s heavenly order of things. But as I’ve been known to say, sometimes we can act so heavenly-minded, we’re of no earthly good. That is, we can get so preoccupied with our status as believers, as the church, as belonging to this group or that within the church, we can become so preoccupied with this issue or that issue that we completely miss the point that this good news isn’t just for our little circle alone. It is good news for the whole world that God so loves. God’s reality is much nearer and far more accessible than people imagine, sometimes they just need to be able to taste it, to see it. And Jesus wants us to know that we’re the ones to show them. Salt is something that you taste, light is something that you can see. They aren’t doctrines and dogmas to sign onto and shove down people’s throats. They’re tangible, visible signs of a larger invisible reality at work in the world. Which means that how we drive points so much more dramatically to what God is up to than any bumper sticker or fish symbol that we affix to our cars. How we extend the hand of friendship and hospitality to our neighbors, like we did a couple of weeks ago, or like we do when we host a trunk or treat or easter egg hunt; how we welcome the stranger in our midst as we did before the pandemic for asylum seekers passing through Albuquerque, is a far more powerful advertisement for what God is up to through the people of First Presbyterian Church than anything we might run in the newspaper or put online. And if we can’t do that, or won’t do that, then quite frankly we’re as bland as the rest of the world. And to borrow a phrase, we’re not worth our salt. 

You are the salt of the earth, says Jesus, the light of the world. Eating a spoonful of salt isn’t very appetizing. Staring into a light isn’t really the point. Salt brings out the flavor of everything it’s added to. Light helps us to see everything that would otherwise be lost to the darkness. They are essential to experiencing all the blessing that God has to offer this world. But we’ve got our work cut out and plenty of damage to undo. In a street survey, when people were asked to give random word associations, the word “Christian” elicited replies like: fake, hypocrites, church, boring. One respondent replied, “used to be one.” Not one of them answered with “love,” or “grace.” Shane Claiborne, a vocal advocate for recovering simple Christian practice reflects on these responses and notes, “We live in an age that when people hear “Christian” they are much more likely to think of people who hate gays than people who love outcasts, and that is a dangerous thing. Bumper stickers and buttons read, ‘Jesus, save me from your followers.’” 

We aren’t called to be the judge and we aren’t called to hide out and congratulate ourselves on having received our blessing in God’s ordering of reality. We are salt. We are light. The only way a hurting world is going to know the healing touch of Jesus is if we follow his lead. The only way a hungry world is going to be filled is if we extend the blessing we have received from the hand of God to make things right for those who suffer injustice. The only way a world that suffers from soul-deadening sameness is going to taste the salty goodness of God is if they receive from us the same grace, mercy, and love that we have come to know in the kinship of God that calls us to belong to each other. Because when we season and shine it isn’t us that the world ultimately tastes and sees, it is the glory of God at hand. The reign of God here and now.