You are Salt and Light

Do you take Scripture seriously? In its earliest books, the Bible goes back at least eight centuries B.C. Its last book, Revelation, was written no later than the early second century A.D. So does this library, or the words of the God its books proclaim, offer us any meaningful teaching? Yes, Scripture is one of the three legs of the Anglican stool on which our faith rests – along with tradition, which we explored last week, and reason. But do we really live by it? More to the point, does what we hear on Sunday have any bearing on what we do on Monday and the rest of the week? Do we do anything on Sunday that changes how we live or how we treat others? Do we even think about our relationship with God during the rest of the week? Or have we completely separated our “spiritual life” from the rest of our life? Are these important and real questions for you? If so, today’s Scripture has startling answers to them, answers which might disturb us – or just might move us out of our comfort zone.

Our reading from the Gospel according to Matthew provides what might be the most startling passage of today’s four Scripture portions. We are in the first part of Jesus’ first great discourse in Matthew – altogether there are five. In this first discourse, the writer lays out what Jesus has to say about the new identity and way of life that characterize the community of Jesus’ disciples. The discourse begins after the calling of Peter, Andrew, James, and John, which we heard two weeks ago. As they follow after Jesus, watching him cure the sick and proclaim the good news of God’s reign, the crowds of Jesus’ followers begin to swell. Jesus stops on a hillside and begins what we have come to call the “Sermon on the Mount.” If we had not observed the feast of the Presentation last week, we would have heard the opening lines of the sermon. But you know them: this is the sermon that begins, “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” In these opening lines, which we have come to call the Beatitudes, Jesus begins to describe the community of his disciples, and shows us how it contrasts with communities in the world around it.

Jesus then makes two very startling statements. “You are the salt of the earth,” Jesus says. “You are the light of the world.” “You are salt and light?” “Salt” and “light,” are two very potent metaphors for discipleship. Why would Jesus use these metaphors? More important, if we really want to take Scripture seriously, what are we hearing? I studied linguistics in another life. So let’s takes these statements apart.

“You.” Who is the “you” in these statements? At least three circles of hearers are included in this “you.” First, there are the inner circle, those first four whom we heard Jesus call, and, presumably some others, plus possibly some women followers whom this gospel does not name. Second, there are the crowds who looked to Jesus for healing and avidly attended to his words. And then there are all those who heard the gospel, its original audience, and all those who heard it down the centuries, including us. As we recognize ourselves included in this “you,” as we learn who we truly are and what our mission as Jesus’ followers is, we also learn that no one is excluded from this community of disciples. All of you are part of it.

“Are.” Jesus did not say “should be,” “might be,” or “will be.” Jesus did not command us to be something or hope that we might become something. He said that we are something, we are salt and light. We may not be sure where Jesus is leading us, any more than his first followers were. Even so, at the outset of his ministry, Jesus takes pains to tell his followers that, just by virtue of being his disciples, they are already members of a beloved community. That was certainly a startling statement to the first hearers of this gospel, to a community of believers that was small, weak, and persecuted by the surrounding religious and political leadership. Is it startling to us? Mainline Protestant churches have been steadily declining in membership for the last generation. Now it’s the turn of white Evangelical churches to suffer decline, as more and more people under the age of twenty-five declare that they are “nones,” i.e., they have no religious affiliation. We here at St. Peter’s are certainly part of that trend. As a congregation we are much smaller, weaker, and probably less influential than we were thirty years ago. Even so, Jesus doesn’t allow any of us to say, “Oh, poor us.” Instead, he reminds us that “you are.” He says to all of us, “If you profess to follow me, then you are.”

So what are you? “You are salt.” Sodium gets a bad rap these days, as the healthcare media tell us that we eat too much of it. However, in the ancient world, salt was a precious and necessary commodity. It was needed to preserve food. It was part of the commonly-used dung fuel, for which it was also necessary as a fire-starter. It was – and still is – essential to enhancing the taste of food, chiefly by intensifying other flavors. Salt has also been historically important. Roman soldiers were paid in salt, from which comes our word “salary.” Salt production was so important that it was often a government monopoly. Mahatma Gandhi began the Indian independence movement by marching his followers to the sea, in order to make salt from salt water, thus undoing the government monopoly. Perhaps this winter we’ve gained a little more respect for salt, as we’ve watched our road crews open the roads drawing on a now dwindling supply of road salt. “You are salt.” You, Jesus’ first disciples, Matthew’s first hearers, and you, you are precious and needed, especially to enhance the lives of others.

“You are light.” Does this need much explanation? We know that light is an essential element for all human life. Along with plants and other animals, we need sunlight for health. We need daylight for ordinary human activity. Before artificial life, people virtually hibernated during the winter months, sleeping during the long dark hours. With artificial light, we have extended our time for work, though when the power goes out, we gain an enhanced understanding of the necessity of light. Light also guides us safely to our various destinations. Viewing the “city on the hill” from afar, or the lighthouse on the beach, travelers and mariners know how to avoid danger.

So Jesus offers us two potent images for ourselves as his disciples. We are salt and light. We are, by God’s grace, precious and essential to God’s plan. And our role? To be life-giving for others.

Now the real question. How do you “let your light shine before others,” so that they might give glory to God? Actually, no one has to re-invent the wheel to answer this question. As they did for Jesus and the hearers of Matthew’s gospel, the prophetic books of Scripture, together with many of the psalms, offer us the guidance we need in how to live a salty and light-filled life.

Today’s reading from the last third of the prophecy attributed to Isaiah offers us especially good guidance. What do we hear? Worship is important, the prophet acknowledges. We are nourished by worship and hear God speaking to us through the words of Scripture. The spiritual practices that we undertake are also helpful in forming us to be God’s people. But neither worship nor pious practices are ends in themselves. We must not just hear God’s words and perform our rites. We must reach out to the poor and needy. We must share our bread. We must find clothing and shelter for those who lack these essentials of life, and we must recognize that we are kin to the entire human family. We must work to “loose the bonds of injustice.” Whatever that meant in Isaiah’s day, or Jesus’ day, in our day that means we are called to rescue women and children from trafficking. We are called to bring home our soldiers and care for those with PTSD. We are called to reduce our incarceration rates and do away with capital punishment. We are called to see that all have access to adequate food, healthcare and education. We are called to ensure that this country has just immigration policies, especially for those brought here as children. Clearly, we have no shortage of guidance as to how we can be a “light to the world.”

We’re a small parish, you’re thinking, what can we’re do? We feed the hungry. Have we ever asked why people are hungry? Have we asked our elected representatives to support the SNAP (food stamps) program? Thanks be to God, we are clothing the naked, through our offering of diapers, and winter hats, scarves, and gloves. We have a wonderful building. Can it be used for disaster relief, or for respite from extreme cold or heat? Do God’s commands inform your personal dealings? Try this. As you begin your day, pray that God may enable you to be salt and light for all those whom you encounter in your day.

In a church bulletin I saw recently, at the beginning of the service, it said, “Enter to worship.” At the end of the service, it said, “Depart to serve.” If you take Scripture seriously, as you depart from this place, “Go in peace, to love and serve God and God’s people.”