You ARE salt and light!

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5th Sunday after the Epiphany

Lessons (RCL, Year A): Isaiah 58:1-12; Psalm 112:1-9; 1 Corinthians 2:1-16; Matthew 5:13-20

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"Born in bondage, born in shackles,

born stripped of all dignity,

Absalom Jones was bound, determined, that he would one day be free. Blessed Absalom, leads us, guides us, In the bonds of unity." (beginning of a poem by Harold T. Lewis)

During Black History Month, The Episocpal Church celebrates the life and ministry of The Reverend Absalom Jones, the first African American ordained to the priesthood in the Episcopal Church. When we take into account his extraordinary life, we are first reminded of a man whose deeply rooted faith in Jesus Christ served as an example of godly love and prophetic witness in the history of The Episcopal Church. Born in 1746 to a Delaware slaveholder, Absolom was eventually brought to Philadelphia where he met Mary King, whom he was allowed to marry in 1770. By 1778, so that their children could be free, Absolom purchased his wife’s freedom, primarily through donations from Quaker communities. Meanwhile, Absolom also wrote to his own enslaver requesting his own freedom. Initially refused, Absolom eventually gained his freedom on October 1, 1784. He adopted the surname “Jones” in order to indicate an “American” identity.

Having settled in Philadelphia, Jones became a lay minister of the interracial congregation of St. George’s Methodist Episcopal Church (a congregation of the new Methodist movement sweeping the United States as part of the 2nd Great Awakening in the 1780s. Together with Richard Allen, Jones had such enthusiasm for the Methodist movement that many blacks joined the congregation. However, fearing a loss of influence and power, white members of the congregation decided that thereafter black congregants should be excluded and forced to sit in the balcony. Jones and Allen walked out, followed by other black members.

Jones and Allen founded the Free African Society (FAS) in 1787 to help newly freed people in Philadelphia. By 1791, Jones started holding services at FAS. After conferring with Bishop William White of Pennsylvania, Jones created (out of the core of The African Church) into the the African Episcopal Church of St. Thomas, the first church in The Episcopal Church with black leadership and predominantly black congregants. Jones was ordained a deacon in 1795 and a priest in 1802, the first African-American priest in The Episcopal Church.

Throughout his ministry, it can be observed that Absalom Jones demonstrated an exemplary faith and steadfast commitment to follow his Lord and liberating Savior. In the exercise of our Christian commitment and responsibility, let us pray for power to pattern our lives after the example of Absalom Jones. Our awareness of and willingness to participate in the struggle for justice and freedom continues to stand before you and me. In this age, and for ages to come, may the Holy Spirit inspire us to join hands and hearts with the chorus of saints past and present.

It is fitting that we remember Absolom Jones as we read Matthew’s account of the Sermon on the Mount. Maybe we should take a moment to situate ourselves. This lectionary year, we have been following the Gospel of Matthew, and during the season after the  Epiphany, we have been hearing about the beginnings of Jesus' life and ministry. We've heard stories about Jesus' baptism, the start of his ministry, and the calling of the first disciples. Last week, we heard the opening of Jesus' “Sermon on the Mount,” beginning with the Beatitudes – some of the most loved and shared words from the gospel. The Beatitudes describe a state of blessedness – a state of belovedness, as I mentioned last week. It is a state of belovedness that you and I, and all of God’s people, are invited to enjoy and manifest.

We must be careful of reading the Beatitudes in isolation from the rest of Jesus’ sermon. It;s not just a creed of purity and holiness. Indeed, if we read the Beatitudes without the words that follow, those Beatitudes can sound like they have little or no earthly use. So, hear again what Jesus says immediately after the Beatitudes:

"You are the salt of the earth. If salt has lost its taste, how can it’s saltiness be restored? It's no longer good for anything, but it's thrown out and trampled underfoot. You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid. 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." (Matt 5:13-14) 

Note that Jesus makes two declarative statements: 

"You are the salt of the earth.” “You are the light of the world."

These are statements of fact! They are reflections of a present reality! They are suggestions of a hoped-for future, or commands for a reward yet to come. It’s not: Get salty! Become light! Jesus assures us that we are already salt and light. The language Jesus uses is descriptive – it’s a statement of our identity. For better or for worse, we are the salt of the earth and the light of the world. Now, what we do with that matters!

It’s an interesting metaphor, so let’s break it open a little with three observations. First, what is salt used for? Historically, salt has had two primary purposes (together with their antitheses): adding flavor and preserving food. In adding flavor, salt is unique and distinctive – it brightens, enhances, and balances. At times, life can feel bland and dull, and the world needs to be seasoned. Jesus thus invites us to enliven, deepen, and enhance the lives of those around us, to reflect something of the one who once said, "I came that you might have joy and that your joy might be complete." As a preservative, salt heals and purifies. As Christians, we must be aware that our salt does indeed heal and purify, rather than wound and dessicate. Even when our saltiness has an edge – when it incites thirst, it should draw the thirsty to the living water of Christ.

Second, salt does its best work when it’s poured out. When it’s scattered. When it dissolves into what is around it. I would have done my mother’s curry recipes no favors if I’d kept our salt shaker locked in a kitchen cabinet. Salt isn’t meant to cluster. It’s meant to give of itself.  It’s meant to share its unique flavor to bring out the best in all that surrounds it. Which means that if we want to enliven, enhance, deepen, and preserve the world we live in, we must not hide within the walls of our churches. We must not cluster and congregate simply for our own comfort. Salt doesn’t exist to preserve itself - it exists to preserve what is not itself. Remember - we are salt. It’s not a question of striving to become what we are not. It’s a question of living into the precious fullness of what we already are.

Third, salt is precious. In the book Salt, A World History, Mark Lansky reminds us that from the beginning of civilization until about a hundred years ago, salt was one of the most sought-after commodities in human history. This is easy for us to forget in our modern context. Leviticus tells us that salt was central to the ritual life in ancient Israel. Every animal sacrifice that the priest made was seasoned with salt. And salt was mixed with the incense that burned in the tabernacle as an offering to God. The Israelites would seal covenants with salt, believing the element represented endurance and faithfulness. Newborn babies were rubbed with salt as a sign that they were set apart for holiness. And Jesus had firsthand knowledge of the importance of this common yet very valuable commodity.

He grew up in a village where the local fishermen relied on salt to preserve their catch. And throughout the Roman Empire, soldiers were sometimes paid in salt. In fact, that's where our English word salary comes from. Salt was essential and treasured throughout the ancient Levant and beyond. So let us remember that when Jesus delivers the Sermon on the Mount, he's not addressing the powerful and privileged of the day. He is speaking to the people that society has disregarded, neglected, and persecuted. The poor, the meek, the mournful, the sick, the

crippled.

And then here comes Jesus with this radical reassurance that despite what the world tells you, you are a blessing. You are worthy, you are cherished. Furthermore, there is nothing you need to change about yourself to become God's beloved because you already are. Each of us, each of our neighbors, both far and wide, is indispensable to God's covenant relationship with God's people, indeed with God's creation itself.

So, here is the wonderfully good news for today, Christ reminds us again and again that the distance between this world and the kingdom of God is a lot shorter than we think. God has transformed the most ordinary and basic of lives into salt and light. So, be salty! Be light! Not as a goal to achieve, but as a life to live because that is what you already are.