Epiphany 5: Salty

Scripture         

“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 underfoot.

“You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid. People do not light a lamp and put it under the bushel basket; rather, they put it on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.

 

 “Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have come not to abolish but to fulfill. For truly I tell you, until heaven and earth pass away, not one letter, not one stroke of a letter, will pass from the law until all is accomplished. Therefore, whoever breaks one of the least of these commandments and teaches others to do the same will be called least in the kingdom of heaven, but whoever does them and teaches them will be called great in the kingdom of heaven. For I tell you, unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.

 

Meditation                      

In 1977 I was a junior at Holy Spirit High School, taking the AP exams, looking at colleges, and appearing in “Fiddler on the Roof” as Grandma Tzeitel in Tevye’s dream. Meanwhile, in France, an ingenious pastry chef named Henri Le Roux, was providing the world with its first taste of salted caramel. A New York Times article follows the path of salted caramel from its beginnings in this country, San Francisco in 1998. It culminates in 2008, in April, when Häagen-Dazs introduced salted caramel ice cream, in October, when Starbucks began selling salted caramel hot chocolate, and reached its peak in December, when Walmart included salted caramel in a box of assorted truffles. Salted caramel had truly arrived.

 

We know salt, chiefly, as a flavoring—what would French fries be without salt? Or corn on the cob? And it’s not simply that the salt tastes good on the food—salt actually brings out the natural flavors of the foods themselves, enhances them. It brings out something in the sweetness of caramel that we could not taste without it.

 

Of course, living as we do in one of the snowiest regions in the United States, we certainly can’t forget the use of salt to make wintry roads safer. But our need for salt goes far deeper than that. Salt is essential to humans and other animals—we need it for nerve impulses and electrolyte balance and fluid regulation of our bodies. Without salt—sodium, specifically—we could not live.

 

Salt has been processed, produced, and traded for more than 8,000 years. It was critical as a food preservative all the way until the 19th century when we figured out refrigeration. Wars have been fought over salt. Salt has been used as currency. And salt has been used as a metaphor, describing colorful language and naming those who make their living at sea.

 

So, when Jesus says, “You are the salt of the earth,” there are layers and layers of meaning in those words.

 

This is our second Sunday immersed in the Sermon on the Mount, those three chapters of the Gospel According to Matthew that have been described as the Christian Magna Carta. In this gospel, Jesus is the teacher of all righteousness, and chapters five, six, and seven give us Jesus’ essential, central teachings. Last Sunday, Jesus looked out at his little band of disciples, and the large crowd beyond, and told them they were blessed. His words of encouragement invited them into his ministry. You are my disciples, he was saying, to those with ears to hear. Follow me, Jesus said. Let’s bring in the reign of God.

 

Now, with discipleship comes responsibility. In today’s passage, Jesus is telling his new disciples what their responsibilities will be. The first thing he says is: You are the salt of the earth. Looking back at the long and colorful history of salt, what does this tell us? What is contained in this metaphor? How does “salty” describe the life of discipleship?

 

Salt makes things taste better. From our favorite salty snacks to the bread we bake to the delights of salted caramel everything, salt brings out flavor, enhances it, adds depth and even surprise. To be a disciple is to help to create a more flavorful world, a life that is not dull and tasteless, but is vibrant, delicious, surprising.

 

Salt is a preservative. To be a disciple is to hold on to what is good and bring it forward—to take, for example, two-thousand-year-old words and find in them deep wisdom for twenty-first century living. To be a disciple is to know that Jesus’ words are still at the core of our faith, to know that, in the words of our UCC siblings, God is still speaking to us.

 

Salt is an essential component of the human body. Without it, our nerves can’t fire and our hearts fail. As a disciple, our faith becomes essential to our living—a basic building block of our lives. Without it, our nerves don’t fire. Without it, our hearts fail.

 

And have you noticed this thing about salt—that it is never alone? It works only in concert with other things—foods, chemicals, ice. As disciples, we are never expected to go it alone. We are in this together. St. Paul tells us the truth that we are one body in Christ—we are intimately connected to one another, each of us having our own, essential role. “The eye cannot say to the hand, ‘I have no need of you,’ nor again the head to the feet, ‘I have no need of you’” (1 Corinthians 12:21). As salt works in concert with countless other entities, we work in concert with one another. All are needed. No one is superfluous.

 

There was a time not long ago when everyone was talking about elevator pitches. You know, you’re in an elevator with someone, and you want to use that brief period of time to pitch the book you’re writing to them, because they’re an editor; or to pitch you invention to them, because they’re the CEO of a company that might want to manufacture and market it. Then it was brought into conversations about faith—about what we might call “evangelism,” which, despite the complicated baggage that word carries, really just means, “sharing the good news.”

 

Honestly, I don’t see us all running out today and “pitching” our faith in an elevator to strangers. But here’s what I do see. As Jesus’ salty followers, we begin by talking about our faith to one another—becoming more and more comfortable about sharing how our faith has affected our lives, the times when it helped us to hang on when it felt like we were dangling over the edge of a precipice, or the times it was the halo surrounding us in quiet moments of joy. Once we’re comfortable talking about our faith with those who already share it… we can branch out, beginning to talk about it with those friends and family who don’t necessarily share it. I see a gentle process, in which our faith is the flavoring of everything we say and do. We don’t have to go out and preach on streetcorners—unless you find that that is, in fact, your particular calling. But being who we are, authentically, in the world, can be the greatest and most effective form of discipleship there is. 

 

Finally, a beautiful summary, shared in Bible Study this week. When Jesus says, You are the salt of the earth, he is saying, You make everything better.

 

Imagine being the four fishermen—the young and old salts—who are Jesus’ first “official” disciples in this telling. Peter and Andrew, James and John have spent their lives in the hard labor that is first century fishing, a living for their families, but never gaining any prestige or notice in their community. That Jesus would say, “You are the salt of the earth, you make everything better,” would come as a revelation to them. So, too, the crowds—the people who follow Jesus for his healing, for his teaching, for the way he makes them feel seen, in all their joys, and struggles, and disappointments, and victories. “You are the salt of the earth,” he says to them. “You make everything better. You can make everything better.” Jesus has given them a brand-new understanding of themselves. They are people of worth. They matter. Their lives count. They are not nobodies. They are somebody.

 

You, too, are the salt of the earth. As disciples of Jesus Christ you are invited to know that you make the world better. You give life flavor. You preserve what is good from the past and bring it into your lives and the lives of others. You work together to serve Jesus by serving one another and our neighbors. 

 

You are blessed. You are the salt of the earth. You make everything better.

 

Thanks be to God. Amen.