2023 02 05 Sermon
You are Salt and Light
Epiphany 5 A
Matthew 5:13-20; Isaiah 58:1-12
Rev. Karl-John N. Stone
They were ordinary people, those disciples, sitting on the hillside overlooking the Sea of Galilee, and listening to Jesus teach them. The first four were fishermen, so they knew how to work hard, and how to depend on each other—both to catch fish, and to make it back to shore safely. A little while late, Jesus would call another eight disciples, from different walks of life, to join them. All were ordinary people living ordinary lives, in an ordinary village, working ordinary jobs. There was nothing about any of them that screamed “destined for fame or fortune”, and there was definitely nothing to indicated that we would be talking about them 2,000 years later.
Jesus teaches them about God’s activity in their lives using ordinary examples, that ordinary people would relate to. Salt. You use it on your food every day. You use it to season your food so it tastes better, or to preserve you food so it lasts longer. But Jesus then says something that catches their attention. “You (you all) are salt—of the earth!” Your impact will be felt across the earth, far beyond this ordinary place where you live.
Light. You depend on light every day—the light shining from the sun; the light your lamp shines so you can stretch the usable time into the evening hours; the light your cooking fire gives off as you make meals; the light that flickers from your campfire as friends gather around to tell stories and jokes and sing songs. Light illuminates things so you can see them better. Light attracts people to gather around and build community. But your light, Jesus tells them, is the light of the world. The light that shines from all of you is like a city built on a hill that people can see from miles away.
As they follow Jesus, the disciples are discovering that what is ordinary is also kind of radical, and unexpected. Jesus shows up in the ordinary things of life, and combined with faith, these things have a greater impact than we imagine.
Salt. Light. These are ordinary things we’ve done nothing to earn; they’re just kind of always there. They’re such a part of everyday life that we don’t think much about them, unless they’re missing. And you are the salt of the earth. The earth needs you. The people of earth may not realize it, but you would be missed if you didn’t use your God-given “salt” for its intended purpose. You are also the light of the world. The world needs you. The people of the world may not realize it, but if you didn’t shine the light God put within you to help others, they would miss you.
Therefore, “let your light so shine before others,” Jesus says, “so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.” The sense of this phrase “let your light shine before others” in the original Greek that it was written in means “the light that is already in you, you must keep shining before others”. The light is already within you, because God put it there! That’s why we always say this verse during baptisms when we present a lighted candle to the newly baptized person—and we’re all reminded of the power and promise of God, activated within us by faith. This power and presence of God that is working for the well-being of the world.
At this point, maybe the disciples were thinking (and perhaps you are thinking, as well), how can I possibly make an impact on this earth? Isn’t that kind of grandiose? I’m just trying to make it through the day in my little corner of the world. If you’re thinking that, you’re right! Very few people have the ability or the calling to operate on such a world-wide level. But remember that Jesus spoke them, not just as individuals, but as a community of faith. And it’s everybody in that community, whether that’s here at House of Prayer, or whether that’s people around the world who are part of the community of Jesus. Jesus works through all of us together, to make his presence known.
You may not realize the difference you make as an individual, but somebody else does. And what you do—really what any one of us does (and this is actually very significant), is you add your pinch of salt; you shine your beam of light. A small beam of light is enough to help someone else find their way. Too much light can actually blind you from seeing clearly. A little pinch of salt is all you need to make a recipe taste good. Too little salt makes it bland, and too much is overwhelming. Just a pinch is enough. And everyone puts in their pinch right where it’s needed.
Jesus carries all these little offerings and calls these offerings (as if they were disciples) to accomplish his bigger purpose. Just like he carried one solitary cross on the path to securing the forgiveness of sins for us all. Just like he calls us to new life and salvation in his rising from the tomb. And as he carries us, and calls to us, Jesus also connects us with the promises he speaks in Holy Communion: “This is my body; this is my blood”—I am here with you in these ordinary, yet holy, elements of bread and wine.
As Jesus walks with us through faith, he helps us carry on an ancient tradition. It was called the Law and Prophets in the Old Testament. In the gospels, Jesus calls it the Kingdom of Heaven, which is his way of fulfilling the Law and the Prophets. We heard a bit about how the Law and Prophets bring renewed life to the world in our first reading today from Isaiah 58. And we will hear more about Jesus’ life-giving teaching on the Kingdom of Heaven as we hear other parts of it on other days of the church year (the Sermon on the Mount does go on for 3 whole chapters,so you can’t cover it all in one day).
The thing to remember for now is that Jesus’ teaching about the Kingdom of Heaven—like the Law and Prophets that he interprets—these teachings are meant to be life-giving. They’re meant to help the people of the world live into our full humanity, since we’ve been created in the image of God. If you have trouble remembering specific teachings that Jesus spoke, we’re lucky to have the benefit of being able to look back at how he lived. Look to the way he did things; the places he went; the way he related to people; the times he went out of his way to associate with the vulnerable, the poor, the outcast, the sick, the grieving, the sinful.
Look at the compassion he chose, again and again; and the stumbling blocks he removed in order to make it easier for ordinary people to get closer to God. Look at his life of prayer, and his service to others, and the way he trusted imperfect and ordinary people (kind of like us) to carry on his ministry, as (in an imperfect and mysterious way) the salt and light we offer becomes Christ’s hands and feet and voice in the world. Amen.