Matthew 5:13-16 (The Message)
“Let me tell you why you are here. You’re here to be the salt-seasoning that brings out the God-flavors of this earth. If you lose your saltiness, how will people taste godliness? You’ll have lost your usefulness and will end up in the garbage.
“Here’s another way to put it: You’re here to be light, bringing out the God-colors in the world. God is not a secret to be kept. We’re going public with this, as public as a city on a hill. If I make you light-bearers, you don’t think I’m going to hide you under a bucket, do you? I’m putting you on a light stand. Now that I’ve put you there on a hilltop, on a light stand—shine! Keep open house; be generous with your lives. By opening up to others, you’ll prompt people to open up with God, this generous God in heaven.
Last week we read and discussed the Beatitudes, comparing Matthew’s version with Luke’s. This reading today comes directly after the Beatitudes in Matthew’s gospel. Here, Jesus tells his listeners (among whom we should be including ourselves) that they are salt and light. If we are indeed listening, then we are salt; we are light. He doesn’t tell them, or us, that we are similar to, or kinda like – he says we ARE – full-stop – no qualifying adverbs. We are salt. We are light. That’s an odd thing to say to someone, but then Jesus says a lot of things that are pretty odd sounding until we take the time to dig into them.
The world needs salt. In Jesus’ time, and for hundreds of years both before and after, salt was a major preservative in a world with no refrigeration. Meat was routinely brined or salted as a way to extend its shelf-life. Fruits and vegetables were pickled for the same reason.
Then and now, salt is necessary for the human body. In our culture today most of us eat too much salt, not too little. It’s a balancing act to get it right.
Since I am a lucky possessor of a wonky thyroid I go in regularly for blood tests to make sure everything is where it’s supposed to be – and the times when my blood sodium tests out too low, my doctor gets excited and I have to shift all my meds until it’s back up where it should be. This is also why athletes chug Gatorade when they are sweating a lot. For a people living in a largely hot and dry country, salt was and is a necessity for life itself.
We are salt.
In an earlier world work began at sunrise and ended at sundown – there wasn’t a lot of choice – especially for the poor who couldn’t well afford the oil for lamps in order to continue working into the dark. Lamps allow us to see immediately around us – at least well enough to do some things, to eat, to mend nets and clothing – small things. Even a burning branch would do for emergencies but generally speaking, life settled into quiet mode after the sun went down.
But Jesus tells us that we are lamps. And not just lamps to light the dark corners of our own houses, but lamps to be placed up high on a lampstand in order to shine brighter. And placed on a hill so our light can go farther – so that others can see by our light.
We are light.
We are salt. We are light. These are compelling statements. Being the salt that is a necessity for life is pretty darn important stuff. Being the light that lets others find their way is a big deal. Maybe too big a deal. Maybe we’d just like to say, “no thanks, Jesus,” because we are pretty sure that we are really not either of these things. We aren't that strong; we’re not that important. Just ask us. I suspect that most often we don’t feel particularly salty or light-ish.
But still, there’s Jesus saying: You are salt. You are light. And he seems pretty firm about it.
And it turns out there are strings attached. Apparently it matters to other people how well we do the salty thing: If you lose your saltiness, how will people taste godliness? What good is salt that has lost its saltiness? It gets tossed out, into the garbage.
And light? Light that hides quietly in a corner might be OK but it’s not doing the world a lot of good. In our reading Jesus says, You’re here to be light, bringing out the God-colors in the world… you don’t think I’m going to hide you under a bucket, do you? Again, Jesus seems to be pretty clear about this – there’s rarely anything remotely wishy-washy about the things that Jesus says. And then he continues, Now that I’ve put you there on a hilltop, where you can be seen—shine!
We are not here lifting ourselves up. We’re not claiming something for ourselves that seems out of our reach. This is Jesus talking. This is apparently how God sees us. God always seems to see so much more in us than we see in ourselves.
We are salt to flavor the world, not just to make our own lives tastier. We are light for others to see by, and not just to light up our own darkness. If we are going to call ourselves God’s people, this is what we do – and we do it not only for ourselves but for the whole world – for all God’s people.
So stand up, you salty people and shine!
The world needs salt. In Jesus’ time, and for hundreds of years both before and after, salt was a major preservative in a world with no refrigeration. Meat was routinely brined or salted as a way to extend its shelf-life. Fruits and vegetables were pickled for the same reason.
Then and now, salt is necessary for the human body. In our culture today most of us eat too much salt, not too little. It’s a balancing act to get it right.
Since I am a lucky possessor of a wonky thyroid I go in regularly for blood tests to make sure everything is where it’s supposed to be – and the times when my blood sodium tests out too low, my doctor gets excited and I have to shift all my meds until it’s back up where it should be. This is also why athletes chug Gatorade when they are sweating a lot. For a people living in a largely hot and dry country, salt was and is a necessity for life itself.
We are salt.
In an earlier world work began at sunrise and ended at sundown – there wasn’t a lot of choice – especially for the poor who couldn’t well afford the oil for lamps in order to continue working into the dark. Lamps allow us to see immediately around us – at least well enough to do some things, to eat, to mend nets and clothing – small things. Even a burning branch would do for emergencies but generally speaking, life settled into quiet mode after the sun went down.
But Jesus tells us that we are lamps. And not just lamps to light the dark corners of our own houses, but lamps to be placed up high on a lampstand in order to shine brighter. And placed on a hill so our light can go farther – so that others can see by our light.
We are light.
We are salt. We are light. These are compelling statements. Being the salt that is a necessity for life is pretty darn important stuff. Being the light that lets others find their way is a big deal. Maybe too big a deal. Maybe we’d just like to say, “no thanks, Jesus,” because we are pretty sure that we are really not either of these things. We aren't that strong; we’re not that important. Just ask us. I suspect that most often we don’t feel particularly salty or light-ish.
But still, there’s Jesus saying: You are salt. You are light. And he seems pretty firm about it.
And it turns out there are strings attached. Apparently it matters to other people how well we do the salty thing: If you lose your saltiness, how will people taste godliness? What good is salt that has lost its saltiness? It gets tossed out, into the garbage.
And light? Light that hides quietly in a corner might be OK but it’s not doing the world a lot of good. In our reading Jesus says, You’re here to be light, bringing out the God-colors in the world… you don’t think I’m going to hide you under a bucket, do you? Again, Jesus seems to be pretty clear about this – there’s rarely anything remotely wishy-washy about the things that Jesus says. And then he continues, Now that I’ve put you there on a hilltop, where you can be seen—shine!
We are not here lifting ourselves up. We’re not claiming something for ourselves that seems out of our reach. This is Jesus talking. This is apparently how God sees us. God always seems to see so much more in us than we see in ourselves.
We are salt to flavor the world, not just to make our own lives tastier. We are light for others to see by, and not just to light up our own darkness. If we are going to call ourselves God’s people, this is what we do – and we do it not only for ourselves but for the whole world – for all God’s people.
So stand up, you salty people and shine!
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