Pr. Michelle Sevig + Matthew 5:13-20 + Sunday, February 5, 2023 + Fifth Sunday after the Epiphany
Who are you? How would you answer if someone asks that question? Usually we give our name. Maybe we’ll tell someone about our work or family to give some insight into who we are. On our social media profiles we’re invited to state briefly who we are. Mine says, “Mom to 3, wife to 1. Little league baseball watcher and naked baby baptizer.”
I’ve never answered the question, “Who are you?” by what today’s gospel tells me I am “I am the salt of the earth. I am the light of the world.” Maybe I should change my Facebook profile introduction.
In today’s reading from Matthew, Jesus says to the crowds gathered around him, “You are the salt of the earth. You are the light of the world.” It’s a promise, not a command. Jesus doesn't say you should be, or you have to be, or even you better be or else. He’s saying you are. As in, already are. Even if you don’t know it. Even if you don’t feel it or have a hard time believing it.
Jesus speaks to the crowd of people who gather from near and far, from a variety of life's circumstances. They’ve come to listen and learn, to be healed, and to have their lives put back together. They’ve come in search of meaning, direction and purpose. In his Sermon on the Mount Jesus blesses them and gives them a promise, an identity–You are blessed and loved, salt and light.
You and I stand among that crowd. We too have come to listen and learn, to be healed and to have our lives put back together. We’ve come in search of meaning, direction and purpose. Jesus’ words are as applicable today as they were two thousand years ago.
You are the salt of the earth. You are the light of the world. Who we are and what we are meant to do are virtually one and the same. Both salt and light are small things that can make a big difference for a larger whole. A pinch of salt brings the dish’s flavors alive. Salt is one of the only spices that can enhance and bring out other flavors in the dish. And even a little bit of light–say a single candle- can light up an entire room. It doesn’t take much to make a difference.
But I wonder if that’s where we get stuck sometimes; believing we have to do big things or make significant statements, change the world or leave a legacy in order to be “let our light shine before others.” We get stuck or frozen thinking we can’t be or do enough in order to have an impact, so we don’t pay attention to or notice the ways we already are being God’s salt and light in the world.
Looking another in the eyes, speaking a kind word, and acknowledging them as having been created in the image and likeness of God. Especially if that person is someone we’ve previously thought of as “other” or “different”
Generously giving compassion, time, and money to care for and make a difference in the lives of those who are poor, hungry, or homeless.
Being present with someone who is grieving, without having to fix anything, but simply sitting with them in the pain and sorrow.
Speaking a word of encouragement to others in distress, being faithful in your place of employment, the volunteering you’ve done, the prayers you’ve offered, the protests you’ve been a part of or the promises you’ve made and kept; all these and others of your own are ways that a small bit of light makes the world a little brighter.
“Let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to God in heaven.” These words from today's gospel are said to the newly baptized during the baptismal rite –A reminder that you have been named and claimed as God’s beloved. In baptism your identity as God’s beloved is secured and you are sent out to be Christ’s light in the world, pointing others to their calling as beloved ones of God as well.
Sometimes that light shines brightly even when we don’t realize it or intend for it to happen. Yesterday, a friend told me about a time long ago when someone else was Christ’s light for her. At the time she didn’t even realize she needed to “see the light” so to speak. He challenged her to think differently about his dream of parenting as a gay man. She had questioned his desire to have children and wondered what obstacles those potential children might face. He heard her questions, and with a bit of saltiness, stopped her in her tracks and demanded that she see things in a new light. She said it changed her life and was one of the most challenging things anyone has ever said to her.
He, clear in his identity as a beloved child of God, and one called to shine light and love, challenged her and helped her to see God’s light shining through him in new ways. Sometimes letting your light shine before others means truth telling, even when it’s painful or difficult, because it can also be freeing and life changing.
There are probably as many expressions and manifestations of salt and light as there are people. Each of us will season and light up the world in our own ways. Today at our annual meeting we will remember and celebrate the ways we collectively live out the gospel, sharing the light of Christ with each other and in the world. In the impact report you’ll see we’ve served meals, marched in pride, sang together in worship, crocheted prayer shawls, empowered youth in their callings, buried our loved ones, connected with those in prison, mentored students, advocated for others and worked for justice. We’ve begun the work of reparations and mending with those who have been harmed by white supremacy. We’ve cared for creation, played with children, tended to those who are ill or injured.
Together, as the body of Christ, we shine with God’s love and illuminate the world. It is both who we are and how we are to be.
Salt that does not flavor and light that is hidden are worthless. So pass the salt. Light your lamp. Be who you are created to be for the world. For Christ has made us his own, a holy people, a light for the world to see.