Salt & Light

It should come as no surprise that today’s lessons reflect many of the same ideas as last week’s.

Today’s gospel is also part of the Sermon on the Mount.

More talk about the Kin-dom.

More talk about justice.

The Psalm spoke about generosity, honesty, and justice.

The second lesson talked about wisdom.

Like last week, there is a thread that winds its way through all three lessons.

All of them talk about how we are supposed to live together.

How we are to sustain this community—this Body of Christ.

How we are to model the Kin-dom.

In today’s gospel lesson, Jesus tells his followers, “you are salt and light”.

Not you will be salt and light.

Not you could be salt and light.

You ARE salt and light.

And we are salt and light because we possess the image of God.

I think it’s important for us to remember that.

We already have everything we need.

Salt and light were valuable commodities in first-century Israel.

Salt was made by evaporating sea water.

It was a time-consuming, labor-intensive process.

Salt was so valuable that it shares a root with the English word salary.

Light was also precious.

Darkness was prevalent in Jesus’ world.

When the sun went down, it got dark—really dark.

There were no electric lights.

Starlight and oil lamps were the only sources of light.

So, in saying “you are salt and light”, Jesus was telling his disciples that they were valued.

Salt is also transformational.

Samin Nosrat wrote a wonderful cookbook that was a NY Times bestseller and won a James Beard award.

In it, she claims there are four things that can transform a dish.

They are salt, fat, acid, and heat, which also happens to be the title of her book.

If you’re a cook, I highly recommend the book.

But I mention it because I think there is a message in there for us.

Salt enhances—salt improves.

If you’re skeptical, I offer you this simple test you can do for yourself.

If you’re a baker, you already know that cakes and cookies all contain salt.

Usually just a little bit, like a quarter teaspoon or two pinches.

That little bit of salt enhances sweetness and makes chocolate chocolatier.

If you don’t believe me, make a batch of chocolate chip cookies with and without that little bit of salt.

You’ll be surprised at the difference that it makes.

Jesus tells us that salt can lose its flavor.

We can lose our saltiness if we isolate ourselves—literally or figuratively—from the community.

We can lose our saltiness when we are distracted by things like materialism, sexism, racism, xenophobia, homophobia, and transphobia.

We can lose our saltiness if anger, greed, fear, or hatred creep into our hearts.

Jesus says salt without flavor is fit for nothing except to be thrown out and trampled underfoot.

Fortunately for us, we can regain our saltiness if we lose it temporarily.

We simply have to let the love of God refill us—restore us.

Remind us that we are children of God.

Called by name.

And claimed as God’s own.

As is every one of our fellow human beings.

Salt also preserves.

It was used to treat meat and fish so that it did not spoil.

We are salt when we preserve peace—when we model nonviolence.

We are salt when we preserve justice—when we demand equity.

We are salt when we preserve love—when we include the oppressed and the marginalized

There are a whole lot of people out in Minnesota that are being that kind of salt.

Preserving is about stewardship—maintaining the value of something.

So, we are salt when we preserve this community of siblings that God has created for us.

Like salt, light is also transformational.

Light dispels darkness.

It makes shadowy, foreboding places less scary.

It allows us to see the wonders that surround us.

Marcus Borg, New Testament scholar, theologian, and author, shared an experience he had.

While driving his car, he came around a bend and he saw, “The light suddenly changed.

It became yellowy and golden, and it suffused everything I saw.

Everything glowed. Everything looked wondrous. I was amazed.”

He said it was the richest minute of his life because it was filled with wonder and a strong sense of knowing that he was seeing more clearly than he ever had before.

He was transformed.

He was enlightened.

In that moment, he gained both knowledge and comprehension.

In a few minutes, during our Black History minute, I’m going to tell you about Fannie Lou Hamer.

She was an important figure in the civil rights movement.

She loved this passage in Matthew that is today’s gospel.

She loved the song “This Little Light of Mine” because it reminded her of it.

In one of her speeches, she said, “I don't mind my light shining; I don't hide that I'm fighting for freedom because Christ died to set us free.

And he stayed here until he got thirty-three years old, letting us know how we would have to walk.”

Fannie Lou knew she had a role to play in the Kin-dom.

Despite beatings and threats to her life, she let her light shine.

This little light of mine. I’m gonna let it shine.

Won’t let Satan blow it out. I’m gonna let it shine.

Hide it under a bushel? NO!. I’m gonna let it shine.

She walked the Way of Jesus—fighting for justice and mercy and peace—by letting her light shine.

So, what does it mean for us to be salt and light?

For that, we need only look to Jesus’ prayer:

“your Kin-dom come,

your will be done,

on earth as in heaven.”

What are we doing to make God’s Kin-dom come?

Are we loving our neighbor—sharing the love that God first gave to us?

Are we promoting justice—sharing the grace that we receive unconditionally?

We are called to be a loving, grace-filled community.

A community that is governed not by self-interest, but by mutual care for one another.

A community that fulfills God’s intent for us.

As we go forth from this place, I pray that you will remember that we already have everything that we need to be salt and light.

We possess the divine image of God.

We only need to open ourselves up and let the light of that image shine.

That light—that love—has the capacity to transform the world.

To dispel the darkness of ignorance that makes us fear one another.

To drive out the hatred of difference that divides us.

To take the Kin-dom that is near, but not yet, and make it closer still.

That is our call.

That is the Way of Jesus.

To BE salt and light.

Let us pray. “God, go with us. Help us to be an honor to the church. Give us the grace to follow Christ’s word, to be clear in our task and careful in our speech. Give us open hands and joyful hearts. Let Christ be on our lips. May our lives reflect a love of truth and compassion. Let no one come to us and go away sad. May we offer hope to the poor, and solace to the disheartened. Let us so walk before God’s people, that those who follow us might come into his kingdom. Let us sow living seeds, words that are quick with life, that faith may be the harvest in people’s hearts. In word and in example let your light shine in the dark like the morning star. Do not allow the wealth of the world or its enchantment flatter us into silence as to your truth. Do not permit the powerful, or judges, or our dearest friends to keep us from professing what is right. Amen.”