5 Epiphany 2014

5 Epiphany 2014

Our Gospel reading today is perhaps one of my favorites; mostly because I love it when Jesus uses these rich images in the context of a short, simple lesson.

Prior to talking about salt and light (just to give some frame of reference), Jesus has just taught the Beatitudes—that wonderful list of things that are the shape of a faithful life committed to God. Things like blessed are the pure in hear, for they shall God; blessed are the peacemakers for they shall be shot by both sides…that sort of thing.

Anyway, to punctuate the lesson, Jesus says to those gathered: you are the salt of the earth… Now, this is of course a saying that we often use to describe really ‘good people;’ people who can be counted on; people who are genuine and honest—again, good people.

But for the people gathered who are hearing this, there is a whole extra layer of meaning. After all, salt in the first century was a pretty important commodity—and, unlike today, it was an expensive commodity. In fact, as many of you know, salt might have been used as currency at this time. A Roman Soldier who did his duties well, for example, would have been said to be “worth his salt.”

And whether salt was currency or not, we do know that the word salary comes from the Latin word salarium—possibly referring to money given to buy salt. 

Anyway, salt was important because it allowed food to be preserved for longer travel and for storage. This allowed people to have food beyond seasonal availability.

In a number of desert dwelling societies, salted bread is eaten to allow one’s body to retain water longer. Salt is also one of the essential elements used for replenishing electrolytes. 

Salt is used in a number of religious rites from several different religions. Salt is said to ward off evil spirits, and is used as an offering to beneficent spirits—just two of a multitude of examples. It was used with sacrifices offered in the Old Testament; and in some Roman and Anglican Rites, salt is a component in holy water.

Of course, all of these are important uses without ever even talking about its uses as a seasoning in food…

However, in the ancient world, salt was difficult to come by because the production of salt was difficult. Yet, because of all of its importance, places of salt production became cultural centers, and very important.

So, when Jesus says to the people that they are the salt of the earth; he’s referring to some of  these things. And even though he refers to the use of salt for seasoning—the extravagance, and expense of salt would not have been lost on these people.

Effectively, what could be taken from this statement is that those who are the salt of the earth are important. As salt then, these disciples are expected to preserve the world. They’re being asked to season the world, to help it have flavor. These disciples are being charged to be worth something to the world—and, of course, they’re to be an offering to God.

Now, I know none of this is new stuff to us. If we aren’t hearing about this in Epiphany, we’ve certainly heard this passage preached on a number of times. Perhaps we could even say that there isn’t enough salt to preserve the dead horse we seem to continue beating… (Ungh, that was bad, I know. Don’t get salty).

The point is well taken, though—as people called to be of use in the world, and however we choose to wax philosophical about salt and its nature—if the salt, or the people called to be salt don’t do what salt is supposed to do; it’s no longer really useful, and technically is no longer salt…

Light is the other thing that the disciples are compared to—they’re the light of the world. Light, Jesus says, doesn’t make any sense unless it’s illuminating things. I think all of us would agree this is true—and we might likewise agree that too much light can be difficult, as well. I mean, think of how street lights (while illuminating streets and neighborhoods) also make it almost impossible to see the stars.

A few months ago, when I went on retreat to a monastery in Three Rivers, Michigan; my colleague and I were both amazed at how bright the stars were when we got up for Matins at 4 am. In the distance, we could see the city lights of Three Rivers, but where we were, there was just an unobstructed view of the night sky and stars…

While, I’m sure that thoughts of light pollution were not an issue in the First Century—we might also agree that numerous Christian congregations were not on their minds either. So, following Jesus’ analogy, we might consider the idea of using light as a resource where it is needed, and as something that ought not to be forcibly used where is is not necessary…this might be the equivalent of sharing the light of faith where it can be life-giving rather than using it in an obtrusive way.

 Well, obviously I could go on and on about the subtleties of the applications of light and salt as allegories for spiritual life. Like I said, these are really rich images, and can actually be a very interesting subject to meditate on if ever you get a chance.

However, very simply; what can we take away from what Jesus says? Obviously this teaching was recorded in the Gospel of Matthew as a tool for learning even beyond that early group of followers. So, apart from the cultural and societal differences, we can fairly say that the lesson is still for us to ponder.

How do we live as salt of the earth, and a light to the world? Another fair question is how do we live this way in a culture that has issues with high sodium diets, and consider light to be a potential kind of pollution?

Obviously there are any number of people who claim to be Christians. We know that in the political realm that a candidate won’t even be considered unless they can speak God-talk; and we know that there is a thriving sub-cultural market which sells “Christian stuff…”

Add in denominations, churches, preachers, evangelists and faith healers who all claim to offer the most relevant, and attractive worship experiences around—and take into account that all of them claim true affiliation to the Christian faith; I would say that (taking Jesus’ analogy a bit further), we live in a world of spiritual light pollution and high sodium. In fact, I might even say that the over-saturation of ‘marketable Christianity’ has become so overwhelming that it has become distasteful… The salt has lost its saltiness.

But, ironically, I don’t think this is discouraging news. Because what this glut of spirituality challenges us to do is to genuinely be salt and light.

In his meditation about St. Leo the Great, Sam Portaro makes an interesting observation about salt. He mentions that in the making of hot cocoa, more important than the sugar, salt is necessary to actually bring out the sweetness of the chocolate. In this way, he explains, we as the salt of the earth are called to lightly compliment the world around us—not overpowering it, but drawing our the subtle good that is there.

As to light, then, we could say that our work is not to be flashlights used in broad daylight, but that we should be ready to help others to see a bit more clearly when things are darkest in life.

Now before we think this sounds pretty easy, we have to consider how we’re supposed to be the right amount of salt and light in the world. After all, we don’t need to add to the confusion.

Well, on one hand, (and this is the difficult bit) I think we need to understand that we really are salt and light. We have to start understanding that it really does matter whether or not we’re doing what we ought to do in the world. So, we have to take seriously that we are to be ambassadors of Christ’s love, and that we are to seek and serve Christ in all people.

On the other hand, we have to do this work without putting on airs. In the same way that salt, with all of its wonderful uses and qualities, doesn’t try to be sugar; so also we shouldn’t put on false piety, to try to appear more Christian. There are few better ways to turn people off than acting that way. It turns out that we are most savory when we are who we are—firmly rooted in our identity as people loved and redeemed in Jesus Christ. Because, if we’re ‘real’ people when serving others and sharing the love of Christ—we allow others to do the same—to be themselves, which is a good thing. Again, sort of like salt bringing out the flavors in cocoa, we are called to do much the same thing with our faith.

So what does it mean to live as salt and light? Well, in a spiritually over-saturated culture, I think it becomes a question of subtlety and skill. I think it becomes a call to retain our flavor by retaining our integrity. In other words, by being ourselves and rooted in our identity as Christ’s own—we are more able to be the salt that is needed to season the world; and the welcome light that illumines the dark places…