Human Salt - September 17

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 69:1-23(24-30)31-38; PM Psalm 73; 2 Kings 1:2-171 Cor. 3:16-23Matt. 5:11-16

Today’s Reflection

‘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 hidden. 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. 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.  Matthew 5:11-16

What does it mean to be salt and light? We know, of course, what salt and light are in the physical world. In school, we learned that salt is HCl. Maybe your teacher even brought in a big piece of it to show what it looks like before it is broken in up into tiny crystals to season food. And in physics we learned about light—how fast light travels, how it can be refracted, and how it allows us to experience the whole spectrum of colors (this is when we’d get to bring out the prisms, always a highlight in science class).

Before we get into what it means for human beings to be like physical elements like salt and light, it’s important to step back and look at the words Jesus uses to talk about this. The Rev. Canon Christopher Russell, Archbishop of Canterbury Justin Welby’s Adviser for Evangelism and Witness, gave a talk to a clergy conference in Florida back in February 2020. Russell reflected in depth on the implications of this passage for how we, as Christians, are to see our mission and conduct our lives, as individuals and as a church:

In this, Jesus is telling us about our identity: You are the salt of the earth. You are the light of the world. … Not just the light of Galilee. Not just the light of Jerusalem. Not just the light of Israel, but the light of the Cosmos. … Note that he doesn’t say you should be the light of the world, you could be the light of the world, you ought to be the salt of the earth. You see, no shoulds, no coulds, no oughts. You are. … In every church, you are the salt of the earth. You are the light of the world. …. Let us become who we are. Not who we ought to be, but who we are—because Jesus has stated that we are the salt of the earth, the light of the world. Let us become that.

But what does Jesus mean when he tells his disciples (and by extension, us) that they (and we) are to be salt and light? What Jesus is getting at is that we are supposed to take on some of the characteristics of these elements in the way we interact with our surroundings, especially with the people around us. Russell observes what it meant to talk about salt in Jesus’ time and place, when people were more acutely aware of salt’s essential role in preserving and protecting life:

You are the salt of the earth. Salt wasn’t an optional table condiment. Salt was essential to daily life. Stopped things decaying, stopped infections from spreading. It sanctified people, Leviticus tells us. Salt doesn’t exist for itself. … Salt only has purpose when it has contact. As salt of the earth, we have to have contact with this world. … Conversation is the seasoning. Our words of course must be borne out by our lives.

Listening to Russell’s talk changed the way I understand these words from Jesus. It had never before occurred to me that “salt only has purpose when it has contact.” But now that I have grasped this, the application of these verses to the mission of the church is now much more clear.

We are the salt of the earth. We must have contact with other people to make a difference in the world for Christ. We cannot just stay in our own individual bubbles or silos. We must take the risk of making meaningful contact with others. Living these past 18 months through a pandemic that has often required us to have less contact with others, many of the habits and routines we had before for remaining in contact with others have been disrupted. After such a long pause, putting our toes back into the salty waters of being with others in our church and wider community seems unfamiliar and even risky after so many days, weeks, and months of isolation, disruption, and trauma.

Being salt begins with making meaningful contact with one another here at Saint Stephen’s; we can be salt that preserves, sanctifies, and seasons one another’s lives as we get to know one another through small groups, Bible studies, and book groups, as we worship with one another on Sundays, as we care for one another through pastoral care and outreach, and as we care for creation together, making our church campus a more sustainable one. Being salt of the earth also requires that we embolden one another to get out into the wider community of Birmingham, to get to know people beyond the places we usually go. As Russell observes, “Notice when Jesus says ‘you’ he is not talking to an individual—he’s talking to a group and to a community. … The corporate is the thing that counts. We know we have gotten into all sorts of trouble when we’re getting stuck on our own ministries. We know it’s about ‘us.’ It’s we before me.”

Russell asked his audience to think about what is our distinctive—what makes the church distinctive from other organizations and groups? Russell offers this answer to the question of what makes us different: “What if our first distinctive is: We are the church and therefore we are for the world. We are called by Christ to be for others.” To be “for others,” we also must be with others. And in so doing we will find that we are salt and we are light.

—Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

What kinds of human contact have you missed most over these past 18 months? What are one or two specific things you could do to reconnect with people at Saint Stephen’s and in the wider community over the next week or two?

Daily Challenge

Listen to the Rev. Canon Christopher Russell’s full address on being salt and light here.

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