Ordinary 5, Year A: Isaiah 58:1-9a,  Matthew 5:13-20

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts be always acceptable in your sight, O God our Strength and our Redeemer.

+ + +

“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. You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid. No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house.”  – Matthew 5:13-15

*

Salt, and light. Hear these words, and know that this is what you are in the eyes of God.

Jesus isn’t saying, ‘You should be the salt of the earth and light of the world.’ Or, ‘you have to be…’ let alone, ‘You better be…’ Rather, he’s saying, you are – you already are. Even if you don’t know it. Even if maybe you once knew it, but have forgotten it. Even if you’re not sure you believe it. 

These words are part of the larger Sermon on the Mount, in which Jesus has already called ‘blessed’ whole swathes of society who would not usually have understood themselves as included in God’s blessing. Jesus is now making his disciples and other listeners a promise about their very being, their identity – he’s not issuing commands or threats about what they should be doing. ‘You are the salt of the earth; you are the light of the world.’ This is about promise and gift, not judgment. 

Like the earlier part of the sermon of the Mount, this is sheer blessing. Words that speak to our being and identity, and if we hear and receive them as gift – then response will follow. 

What is salt? Today it’s a common substance, it’s on every kitchen shelf and on many of our dining tables. It’s not even  particularly expensive, except when I’m tempted by those lovely Maldon sea salt flakes which are so nice with our late-summer sliced tomatoes on buttered Vogels toast…. 

But in the ancient world, salt was a prized preservative, something we’ve mostly forgotten today in our industrialised world, where refrigeration is the rule. Salt was also important in the rituals of ancient sacrifice, as specified in Leviticus (2:13). Most obviously though, salt enhances food, it enhances flavour, and it is this that Jesus takes meaning from. But for all of these reasons – preservative, ritual practice and culinary, salt was a precious commodity in Jesus’ day and for centuries since. 

It is a substance that has a kind of prestige, culturally and historically. Salt has shaped human history though the flows of trade routes, government monopolies, and even protests such as Gandhi’s ‘Salt March’. Even our every day vocabulary includes traces of salt’s longstanding influence on human affairs: the word ‘salary’, for example, derives from a Latin term for a soldier’s allowance for the purchase of salt.

All of this is evocative of the kingdom of God – salt is a small thing of great value. Just a pinch of salt brings it’s own flavour, but it also brightens and sharpens other flavours – it makes them themselves, only more so.

And light – again something incredibly simple, but so powerful. A guide to travelers on the road, a warning to sailors, a source of gathering and warmth on evenings at home after the sun sets. But who would put a bushel, a basket, over a burning lamp? Such an action is not only ridiculous, it would also be dangerous – a fundamental and even reckless understanding of what a lamp is, how it works, and what it is for. Jesus is insisting to us – ‘You are not made to be hidden – you are made for shining, for illuminating, for giving light to all in the house.’

When Jesus goes on to encourage ‘good works,’ he’s set out this framework of his listeners being salt and light – so they understand it’s not that they do good works out of obligation or ambition, but rather, because that is what they have been made for doing. Isaiah named those good works with sharp clarity: loosening the bonds of injustice, sharing bread with the hungry, and refusing to turn away from their own flesh and blood. Doing good works, then, is not about earning anything from God – it is about being who we really are.

What would this look like for you? For me? In our contemporary world? Take a moment to ponder your life over the last couple of weeks, and think of all the ways you have been salt and light to others around you. Your words of encouragement to others. Your faithful work in your employment. The volunteering you’ve done. The prayers you’ve offered or protests you’ve been a part of or promises you’ve made and kept. The support you’ve offered a friend, or a stranger. The kind smile and greeting you offered to someone in the supermarket when they were struggling with a child. The slow, faithful work of listening and truth-telling and relationship-building in this land, as we continue to wrestle with what justice, partnership and honouring Te Tiriti actually require of us.

Any of these things may seem, in and of themselves, so small. That matters especially now, when the scale of the climate crisis in particular can make us feel that individual faithfulness counts for nothing. And yet Scripture insists that care for the earth, like care for our neighbour, is always practiced locally, patiently, and in community.

In all these things, we should always remember: small is what God most often uses to change the world, one person, one day at a time. 

‘You are the salt of the earth; you are the light of the world.’ God knows our world needs us to be salt and light – because we are loved, we are blessed, and we have more than enough to share.

I want to share some powerful words for us, the church, from the preacher Frederich Buechner, to conclude. 

“Jesus calls us to show this truth forth, live this truth forth. Be the light of the world, he says. Where there are dark places, be the light especially there. Be the salt of the earth. Bring out the true flavor of what it is to be alive truly. Be truly alive. Be life-givers to others. That is what Jesus tells the disciples to be. That is what Jesus tells his church, tells us, to be and do. Love each other. Heal the sick, he says. Raise the dead. Cleanse lepers. Cast out demons. That is what loving each other means. If the church is doing things like that, then it is being what Jesus told it to be. If it is not doing things like that—no matter how many other good and useful things it may be doing instead—then it is not being what Jesus told it to be. It is as simple as that.”

Amen

with thanks to David Lose for thematic material; & Feasting on the Gospels also. 

.