Salt and Light (Sermon)

“Salt and Light”

Matthew 5:13-20

Allen Huff

Jonesborough Presbyterian Church

2/5/17

         Salt is a chemical compound – sodium chloride. We season food with salt. For thousands of years humankind has used salt to preserve and purify food. And for the same reason that it’s useful for churning ice cream, salt clears icy roads. And for all its various uses for good, the more salt we use at the dining table, the more likely we are to need the operating table.

         ‘What good is salt that isn’t salty?’ asks Jesus.

It’s a rhetorical question, of course. Non-salty salt is useless. Saltiness is to salt as compassion and justice are to discipleship. The mission of disciples is to make a difference in the world, to season and enhance the creation, to make it a livelier and tastier place for everyone. Like leaven in bread, just a little salt can make a big difference.

         Disciples are not told to become salt. They are salt. “You are the salt of the earth,” says Jesus. ‘Even when you’re not acting like it, your purpose is to serve, help, care, love, challenge, reconcile, and work for peace. To lose your saltiness is to lose your relevance and your voice in the world. Indeed, to lose your saltiness is to lose your lives.

         Remember, too, salt exists not for its own sake but for the sake of that which it seasons. The right amount of salt brings out the flavor of the food. Too much salt covers and even destroys that flavor. As spiritual salt, then, we follow Christ not simply for our own good, but to benefit our neighbors, to evoke the holiness God imbues into all things. If Jesus’ disciples truly want to season the ever-growing casserole called Creation, then we will salt as he salts, by loving as he loves.

“You are [also] the light of the world,” says Jesus.

The metaphors of salt and light both connect intimately with us. Light often represents God’s presence in the world. Lighthouses, flashlights, candles in dark hallways, fireplaces in the cold and gray of winter – all of these things can stir our imaginations and our memories.

         Like salt, light exists for the sake of those who depend on it. And we depend on it for much more than sight. Light draws us into its luminous warmth when we feel lost and alone. Without the light of the sun, the earth would be an asteroid, dark and lifeless. No animals or plants would exist, no human beings, no poetry or music, no hopes or dreams.

         “You are the light of the world.” That should both intimidate and invigorate us. While we do not possess the power of sunlight itself, God still chooses to reveal something of God’s own light through us. When we nurture the flickers given to us by God’s bright and brightening grace, they combine with other flickers and become a flame, a beacon, a sign of God’s presence and promise.

         That’s the point of lighting candles on Christmas Eve. As Jesus is born anew into heart and mind, consciousness and action, we take our one little flame and share it. In a few moments, it illuminates the entire sanctuary. Each candle helps to push the darkness back and to show the way to the aisles, and from there to the narthex, and from there out into the world where we take our light, where we are light. And salt.

         Only after affirming his disciples as salt and light in and for the creation does Jesus challenge them with his teaching about the importance of the law. “Whoever breaks one of the least of these commandments, and teaches others to do the same, will be called least in the kingdom of heaven.” These words foreshadow Matthew 25 when Jesus turns things around to affirm the faithfulness of true disciples. When you cared for “the least of these who are members of my family,” says Jesus, “you did it to me.” (Mt. 25:40)

Jesus says that to keep the law and to care for all who are vulnerable – the hungry, the sick, the prisoner, the refugee, all who feel unsalted and left for dead in the dark – these two things, justice and compassion, are inseparable. The very purpose of God’s law is to create and nurture communities of justice and compassion.

Everyone is included in the kingdom of God – or as I am now trying to call it, the eternal Outpouring of God. And while I do trust that all of us are welcome in the Outpouring of God, I also believe that such a vision requires from all of us a firm commitment to compassion and justice.

I think God expects all of us to commit to active care for one another, and to commit to active care for the environment and wilderness.

I think God expects us to commit to creating just and equitable societies where everyone has the opportunity to find meaningful work, to feel safe, to breathe clean air, to drink clean water, to have good healthcare, and to receive an empowering, well-rounded education. Praying for our leaders to provide such things is never enough. Holding them accountable while doing our share of the legwork in our own communities, for the Love of God and the sake of our neighbors, this is our calling. Discipleship involves a lot more than going to church.

God’s trustworthy Word declares that it is not Herod, it is not the wealthy and powerful who most faithfully represent God’s justice in and Love for the creation. That blessing is the gift of those who are salt and light. And Jesus defines them as the poor in spirit, the meek, the merciful, the peacemakers, and those who are persecuted for righteousness sake.

Salt and light is who we are. Maybe we’re saltier and brighter on some days than we are on others, but having been created by God for relationship and responsibility, we are salt and we are light, nonetheless.

         As you come to the Lord’s Table, may your saltiness be enhanced.

May your light become more radiant.

And may your hunger for compassion and your thirst for justice not be quenched but renewed.