Matthew 5: 13-20 (Epiphany 5A)

¹³“You are the salt of the earth; but if salt has lost its taste, how can its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything, but is thrown out and trampled under foot. ¹⁴“You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid. ¹⁵No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house. ¹⁶In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.

¹⁷“Do not think that I have come to abolish the law or the prophets; I have come not to abolish but to fulfill. ¹⁸For truly I tell you, until heaven and earth pass away, not one letter, not one stroke of a letter, will pass from the law until all is accomplished. ¹⁹Therefore, 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; but whoever does them and teaches them will be called great in the kingdom of heaven. ²⁰For I tell you, unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.

So, you apply for a new job.  You get the job and you are then handed a job description, a very detailed list of what your role is and what responsibilities you have.  At the top, it has your title.  Basically, it tells you who you are, right?  And then you have a list of responsibilities.  So, the job description answers two very basic questions that are probably pretty fundamental questions of life: “Who are we?” and “What are we to do?”  It sounds so easy, so straightforward.  All you have to do is follow the list of responsibilities and you will be what it says at the top of the page (or at least some semblance of it).

But what if you didn’t really apply for that job?  What if you didn’t mean at all to be given that job?  What if, without any real warning, you are handed a shiny new nametag and a job description that describes what you should do when you weren’t even sure that that’s what you wanted to be.  That’s a little bit like what it may feel like when you first read today’s Gospel passage.

I mean, straight out of the blue.  “You are the salt of the earth.”  “You are the light of the world.”  I’m sorry, you said I’m what?  But, Jesus, really, we just wanted to be followers.  We just wanted to follow you to eternity, to stand here and bask in your goodness and your mercy and begin to feel like it was all going to turn out alright.  We wanted to you to lead us, show us where to go.  You know, sort of like that shepherd and sheep metaphor that you kept using.  THAT’S what we signed up to do.  So, what does it mean to be the salt of the earth and the light of the world, exactly?  I think we may be getting this wrong.

So, what does it mean to be called to be salt, to be called the salt of the earth, as the Scripture says?   I mean, salt has many uses.  It purifies; it seasons; it preserves.  It is a nutrient that we need.  It is an antiseptic.  It adds support and buoyance (remember that ships float higher on salt water than fresh water).  So maybe we are called to be multi-faceted, to not just walk one road toward that Presence of God that we think we have identified and nailed down in our lives, but to rather open ourselves to the notion that God appears when we least expect it.  And we are called to be ready, to be open, to do whatever it is that God calls us to do in that moment. 

But, interestingly, salt is of no use to salt.  We cannot serve ourselves.  We are part of a community.  “Being salt” means that we are called to become that embodied Presence of God in the world and for the world and, rather than making everyone and everything into what reflects our own personal image of God, we are rather called to season what we touch so that the flavor that is God comes through.

Then there’s light.  We’re called to be light too?  Good grief!  That’s a lot!  You know, light is something that cannot be hidden or it is no longer light.  So, if we are light, it means that we, too, are seen.  We are meant to be seen, meant to be the ones that illumine the way of Christ, that clarify it for others, that reveal it in the darkness.  We are the ones that light the way for others.

That’s a pretty tall order.  It’s also rather overwhelming, when you think of the magnitude of it.  I mean, it’s not like light puts itself out for a while and then comes back when it’s ready.  Being light is pretty much a full time job.  It’s also an uncomfortable job sometime.  Light doesn’t just illumine the goodness and those things that are worthy of such revelation; light has a habit of shining into the darkest corners of the world and revealing those things that are in need of change, those things that God calls us to change.  And light, true all-encompassing light, does not pick and choose where its rays will shine.  It illumines all in its path taking it unto itself. 

So, “you are the salt of the earth”.  “You are the light of the world.”  Notice that Jesus is not saying that you “should be” salt or light or that you should “try to be” salt and light or that you will become salt and light someday.  No, Jesus says you ARE salt and light.  You just are.  You don’t debate it.  You don’t second-guess it.  You don’t wonder about it.  You just go and be it.  You are salt and light.  Period.

The problem is that you are salt. The problem is that you are light.  It doesn’t mean that you ignore or shun the ways of the world; it means you change them.  The very reason that the Gospel is so powerful is that it actually thrusts us into reality and allows us to move forward in a way that restores everything around us, not only spiritually, but also materially and emotionally.  So why do we often fail at that?  It’s probably because more times than we’d like to admit we allow the culture to shape our faith, rather than being the salt that our world so desperately needs.  We have allowed our light to be hidden because sometimes it’s uncomfortable to be the one that speaks the Truth.

We can no longer stand by and let the Truth be usurped.  We can no longer hide afraid of what others may think.  We cannot excuse ourselves from speaking out because it might shake up our comfortable existence or change how others look at us.  We have to stand up for the Gospel—because we are salt and we are light.  We are the shapers and the illuminators.  We must speak for those who cannot.  We must stand up for those that the world says are not worthy or are not one of us.  We must tear down walls that others try to build and invite the Gospel in. The Gospel is not a viewpoint.  It is not an opinion.  It is not an alternative fact, to coin a new word in our society.  The Gospel is a truth-teller.  See, the problem is that the Gospel is our own call to action.  We can no longer stand on the sidelines.  We have to preach the message that Jesus preached even in the face of a world who would it seems rather not hear it.  Will you accept the position? The choice is yours.  We’re called to be salt.  We’re called to be light.  Most of all, we’re called to be who God calls us to be. 

I want to pay the highest compliment anyone could ever pay: You are the light of the world. You are the salt of the earth. You are the leven in the loaf. So, go and be light.  Go and be salt.  Go and be leven. (Marcus Borg…who admitted he stole it from William Sloan Coffin)

Grace and Peace,

Shelli