Matthew 5:13-16
Today’s scripture is part of the collection called The Sermon on the Mount, mostly short teachings which summarize the point of Jesus ministry. “You are the salt of the earth.” “You are the light of the world.” These sayings have come into many languages as familiar ways to say positive things about people. In our congregation they remind us every week of what we’re about as followers of Jesus’ Way.
In the first century and throughout most of history salt was a seasoning and a preservative. To say folks are salt means they make life better the way salt makes food taste better. It also means they keep things safe and whole instead of allowing them to rot and decay. Salted food keeps without refrigeration at home and on long journeys. Salt allowed people of wealth to have meat throughout the year and not just when an animal was slaughtered. Salt was a valued commodity and broadly traded across national lines. In some ways it connected the world.
Light is as highly valued as salt. Light allows us to see what’s going on in the world. Daylight is for working and for safety. A lamp extends daylight – for seeing loved ones after supper, for finishing important tasks, for keeping bandits away. In the first century people traveled by day and travelers camped by fires after dark. Light then and now carries more than just a practical function. Light lifts our spirits. We feel better on a sunny day than on gray and rainy ones. We are moved by colored light through stained glass. When we are little, we ask for a nightlight to assure us through the night. We light candles for celebration and their flames speak to us of holiness and hope.
Most of Jesus’ audience as he traveled and taught were poor folks without power or influence. Even wealthy leaders had very little opportunity to impact how their world worked. And their world was hard. People were hungry, overworked, susceptible to illness, in danger from occupying armies. With this teaching about salt and light, Jesus is telling them that what they do with their lives matters. Each one can make life better in their families and their villages.
You can be salt. You can be light. You can be kind. You can be loving and compassionate. You can laugh and have fun and celebrate the people you love. You can be welcoming of others and live without judgment or condemnation for your neighbors.
First century Palestine wasn’t a democracy. They couldn’t vote out bad leaders and choose better. They couldn’t overthrow Rome and become self-governing again. Those who tried died. Those who complained about harsh bosses or owners lost their jobs or were brutally disciplined. But they could choose how they lived their lives. They could choose the values they lived by and the quality of their daily actions. They could choose how they responded to hardship and how they thought about others. They could choose to love, no matter what happened to them.
We’ve decided that this teaching of Jesus is one of the priorities of our church. We too choose how to respond to the world around us and celebrate that with Light Signs every time we gather. We have a lot more options open to us than the folks who first heard and remembered these words. We can vote. We can be leaders in our community. We can stand up to our employers. We are free from slavery. We have property and financial assets to put to good use. And we do just that.
I don’t know about you, but sometimes I find this world overwhelming. It seems like there’s a lot that’s broken and not much to be done to fix it. That’s true of racial justice in our country. Those of you who like me were alive in the ‘60’s thought we had done a lot to fix segregation and violence that denied freedom to people of color. We did make progress, but we didn’t finish the job. Now every day in the news we see evidence of more work to be done. Reforms to policing and education and investment in communities. Voting rights. I don’t want to think that things are getting worse instead of better. The struggle seems hard again.
Those of us who care about the rights of women and of the LGBTQIA+ community and immigrants want to believe we’ve made progress in giving people the right to live as full citizens and make their own choices. Current events remind us that those rights are fragile and the future is less certain than we hoped.
The war in Ukraine and violence in many places in our world remind us that we haven’t yet fought “the war to end all wars.” People are capable of death and destruction still.
Most of my life I’ve believed that people are good and the world is a kind and happy place. I grew up that way. I’ve tried to live that way as a parent and a pastor. With the pandemic many of us have been reading more. I’m learning that the world can be harsh. That history is full of danger and injustice. That people can behave very badly.
We need to work with partners across the nation and the world to address all those things which beat people down. None of us can do it all, but we can elect leaders who want to make change – to lift people up, build bridges, share resources. We can stand up for what matters to us – make some holy noise and good trouble.
When I get most discouraged about how much is broken in our world, I cook for LaGrave. It helps me remember that I can’t end hunger but I can make sure one group of people is fed. A few folks are doing better in life because of good nutrition. I know that each of you has those things which lift you up too – helping neighbors, connecting with kids and grandkids, donating blood, planting trees.
Jesus’ message isn’t meant to be about how much is on our to-do list for the world. It’s meant to encourage each one of us that what we CAN do to make life better matters. It matters how you live. It matters how you think about others. It matters when you do the best you can.