Epiphany 5A; Isaiah 58:1-12; Matthew 5:13-20;
St. Paul’s, 2/9/2020
Jim Melnyk: “Being Salt – Living Beyond the
Abstract”
Many years
ago I was given a small bookmark with a quote from Luke’s gospel written upon
it in beautiful script. The verse had a great impact on me at the time, and
I’ve tried to bear its message in my heart and mind over the years. The message
reads, “The Kingdom of God is within you!” This is the proclamation of Jesus
time and time again – that the Kingdom of God, or the Kingdom of heaven, has
come near us, come upon us, or is close at hand. Most powerful of all these
images for me is the promise that the Kingdom of God, or the reign of God,
lives and breathes within us.
It is with this the reality of God’s
coming in mind that Jesus uses the metaphors of salt and light in today’s
gospel lesson from Matthew. Jesus proclaims that his followers are “the salt of
the earth” and “the light of the world.” They are salt and light because the
reign of God has broken upon them, and around them, and in them, much as a
wild, crashing wave breaking upon a rocky shore. Because of the disciples’
openness to God’s promise and presence in the person of Jesus they are gifted
to become salt and light themselves – as are we. Salt and light are gifted realities
for us as human beings. Theology, doctrine, liturgy, our buildings – none of
these things in and of themselves can serve to be the “true salt” or the “true
light.” It is only in and through God’s people in relationship with one another
and with God, Jesus teaches us, that the Reign of God becomes real for the
world. In naming his disciples “salt” and “light” Jesus is proclaiming their
power, and their ability, and their responsibility, for helping bring about the
promise of God.
This power, this ability, this
responsibility, is ours as well. Even today, in a world which may not clearly
understand the potency of these metaphors, we are called to be salt and light. We
are called to be the active ingredients, the active agents of God’s promise,
making known to a broken world the life-changing power of God’s love.
We are not meals waiting to be
salted or seasoned to our liking. We are not a dark room waiting for someone to
turn on the light. We are salt. We are light. We are meant to be that seasoning
that makes a bland meal dance with delight on someone’s tongue. We are meant to
be the dazzling light of a city set on a hill – so that people for miles and
miles around us can experience the knowledge and love of God in our lives, and
then claim it for themselves.
If the only cost we incur for being
a Christian – for being a follower of Christ – is a little lost sleep on a
Sunday morning, and a couple of dollars in the collection plate, then something
is missing in our lives. If we figure that just showing up on Sunday, or on an
occasional Sunday, is all it takes to be a disciple of Jesus the Christ, then
we are a meal waiting for someone else to bring the spice of life to our call,
or for someone else to flip the light switch and bedazzle us with brightness. And
Jesus is left scratching his head and wondering where we lost the message.
One theologian I was reading the
other day mentioned that salt has “no human value in theory, or in the abstract.”[1]
“What good is a full salt shaker that rests on another table across the
restaurant from you? What can it do for your hamburger under your nose? Not a
lot. ‘Saltiness’ has effect in its immediacy,
where it can be tasted and touched and sprinkled – in proximity to where it can
add zing.” I would add, what good is a light hidden under a cardboard box? Light
only becomes useful when it shines in the darkness, unveiling that which would
otherwise remain hidden.
Salt and light are a part of the
giftedness of baptism. Having been baptized into Christ we become the salt of
the earth and the light of the world. We are called to live into our baptisms
by actively and openly living the Good News of God in Jesus Christ. Speaking
through the prophet Isaiah the God of Jesus called such living the true fast
that God chooses for us: “to loose the bonds of injustice, to undo the thongs
of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke.[2]” In
doing so our light will “break forth like the dawn,” our “healing [will] spring
up quickly; [and our] vindication [will] go before us….” We will indeed be
called “repairers of the breach” – the people who restore the brokenness of
this world [3] In this, the kingdom of
God, the reign of God will live within us and through us.
Jesus, born into the midst of Second
Temple Judaism and raised as a Torah Observant Jew, comes among his people
proclaiming the sanctity of the Torah and the Prophets – proclaiming their
vital role in the life of God’s people. He proclaims a commitment to those
teachings, promising they will not fail – indeed, they will find their
fulfillment in the promised coming of the kingdom of God. He, and all those who
follow him, like every faithful Jew before, are to be beacons of light drawing
all to the love of God. For indeed, Israel was called to be a light to the
nations centuries before Jesus.[4]
In Luke’s gospel Jesus proclaims, “Blessed are you who are hungry now,
for you will be filled.[5]”
In Matthew’s gospel we hear Jesus proclaim, “Blessed are those who hunger and
thirst after righteousness, for they will be filled.”[6] Last
week when we filled the food baskets at the back of the church with cans of
soup for the local food pantry we were indeed showing ourselves to be the light
Jesus named us to be – and we offer hope against those in our world who choose apathy
over caring, or scarcity over abundance. We can fill those food baskets every
week if we dare to take the time and effort. But while food pantries meet the
immediate needs of those who go without, they don’t address the actual reasons
for poverty and hunger.
The gospel calls us to find ways of connecting those two sayings of
Jesus – putting the work those who hunger and thirst for righteousness in touch
with, and able to serve, those who hunger now for something as basic and
uncomplicated as their daily bread – and addressing systems designed to keep
even the working poor, poor.
The work done by this parish through community
ministries such as Harbor House, Meals on Wheels, or My Kids Club, adds life
and light to the world around us. When we find ways to join hands with our
sister congregation, San José, to offer aid to people suffering in Venezuela,
or when one of our youth attends HUGS Camp as a companion for someone with
special needs, we change people’s lives. When we volunteer at Hospice House, or
visit a parishioner who is recovering from illness, or sit with a friend who is
transitioning from this life to the next, it shows how much the people of God
at St. Paul’s are more than just meals waiting for someone else to flavor, and
more than darkened rooms longing for a lamp to bring them light.
My sisters and
brothers in Christ, we are salt. We are light. We become the very sacrament
of Christ’s love for this world – we become outward and visible signs of God’s
love and grace for this world. We become Isaiah’s repairers of the breach, and
thus, according to Jesus, the Law is fulfilled! We have done much in the grace
and love of Christ. We can do much more. Our saltiness will bring zest to the
world, and the dazzling light that shines in our hearts – the light of Christ
shining from within – will show us, and show our world, the way!
[1] H.K. Oehmig, Synthesis
Commentary
[2] Isaiah 58:6
[3] Isaiah 58:8,12
[4] Isaiah 42:6; 49:6
[5] Luke 6:21
[6] Matthew 5:6
[1] H.K. Oehmig, Synthesis
Commentary
[2] Isaiah 58:6
[3] Isaiah 58:8,12
[4] Isaiah 42:6; 49:6
[5] Luke 6:21
[6] Matthew 5:6
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