Salt/Light of the World – 4/7/24

In the introduction to Jesus’ most famous sermon, he begins by describing his citizens, the citizens of this kingdom, as blessed. Over and over again: blessed, favored, the unlikely ones, the poor in spirit, the ones who have mourned, the meek, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness. These unique qualities don’t lead to applause. They actually lead to inevitable persecution (Matthew 5:10-12). Jesus ends this introduction to his most famous sermon by communicating two vivid images: salt and light. If you want to know what these blessed ones are like, this is where he ends:

“you are the salt of the earth,”

verse 13. What does this mean? It’s not an easy question to answer.

One website suggests that there are over 14,000 uses of salt. Today we take salt for granted, but in ancient times it was coveted and necessary for life. Whole towns, at certain places, were built near salt licks. In ancient Greece, salt was traded for slaves, which is where the expression came “he’s not worth his salt.” Roman soldiers were paid salt money (salarium argentums), which is where we get the word “salaries.” So, every time you make a salary, you’re literally earning salt. There’s been a longstanding superstition that spilled salt is a bad omen. You get a glimpse of this in the painting by Leonardo DaVinci, The Last Supper. If you look really closely, right next to the right arm of Judas, you see a bowl of spilled salt. Battles have been fought over salt. In 1777, Lord Howe captured General Washington’s salt supply. Salt has been a condiment, it’s been used for toothaches, or a means of paying taxes. Newborn babies still, in some countries, are rubbed down with salt. Let’s bring this down a little bit from 14,000 uses to three possible interpretations as to what Jesus means, “you are the salt of the earth.”

Number one, salt calls attention to God’s covenant faithfulness. Like in Leviticus 2:13,

“You shall season all your grain offerings with salt. You shall not let the salt of the covenant with your God be missing from your grain offering; with all your offerings you shall offer salt.”

The salt of the covenant is the permanence of the covenant. Christians are to the earth what salt is to the offering, communicating the durability, dependability, and covenantal faithfulness of God.

Number two, salt brings out the best in society. Salt is a flavoring and even, in the ancient world, a fertilizing element. An illustration of this could be seen in Colossians 4:6, “Let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how you ought to answer each person.” So, it’s a grace-filled speech, seasons communication, keeping it from becoming tasteless. Followers of Jesus season life on earth. Christians, in this view, are a purifying, transforming influence on society. That’s the positive side.

The negative of that same point could be described as salt, number three, preserves society from corruption and decay. It not only promotes the best but prevents the worst. Roman historian Josephus mentioned a town on the edge of the Sea of Galilee. He called it Taricheae. Most likely, he’s referring to a Roman name for the city of Magdala, which is where Mary of Magdala, Mary Magdalene came from. What’s interesting is the Roman name for that town literally means “salty fish,” so we know that the disciples would have been very familiar with the pickling-preserving qualities of salt.

If you take all those various views, these benefits that Christianity brings to society are the reason why atheist Richard Dawkins last weekend got into a heap of trouble. He expressed concerns about the 30,000 lights that were hung on Oxford Street, London, to celebrate Ramadan on Easter weekend. In an interview with LBC last Sunday, Dawkins said,

“I must say I am slightly horrified to hear that Ramadan is being promoted instead [of Easter]. I feel that we are a Christian country.” Anybody who knows Dawkins is gasping. He went on to call himself a “cultural Christian.”

Anyone who’s read his book The God Delusion back in 2006 would be shocked by this state. If you’re not familiar with Richard Dawkins, he’s one of the—out of four—most famous atheists in the world. He is fanatically an atheist, he is evangelistically an atheist, and yet he calls himself a cultural Christian. What is he talking about? What’s interesting about that interview is that he is saying almost—brace yourself—the same thing Jesus is saying. A little different, he doesn’t want anyone to actually be a Christian, but he wants the benefits of Christianity.

When he looks at the rise in England of Islam, so much so that Easter is replaced in some areas with Ramanan. As an atheist, he considers the change that will come about to his country, the influence of Islam or even his own non-religion religion (atheism). He will pick Christianity. Why? He knows that when the influence of Christianity disappears, the basis for his society evaporates. Any kind of human equality, justice, love, compassion, human rights— all of that are grounded in the Christian faith. What he’s getting at—obviously, Jesus is going beyond this; not just the benefits, but the reality—is really what I believe we need to get our arms around.

What is Jesus saying here regarding salt and light? Christians, followers of Jesus, benefit the world. That’s it. That’s what Jesus is truly highlighting. The world may hate, mock, and persecute Christians, but Christians will benefit. Christians will bring out the best in society. How do we do that? We benefit the world as we are viable, visible, valuable, and vertical. I’ve never used these before. New day at North Hills! What I’m trying to do is get our arms around what he is saying about salt and light because I think it’s the same point coming at it from different angles. Let’s walk through those four.

We benefit the world as we are, number one, viable. To be viable is to be and do what you say you are and do, to perform as intended. Look what Jesus says in verse 13,

“You are the salt of the earth, but if salt has lost its taste, how shall its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything except to be thrown out and trampled under people’s feet.”

Salt or sodium chloride, in its pure form, is extremely stable. It can’t become unsalted. But in the day before refineries, salt was often mixed with other minerals and could become so contaminated as to be useless. That’s what Jesus is getting at. It might claim to be salt, but it is so mixed up with other minerals that it has lost its saltiness and, therefore, is fit just to be thrown away.

Notice Jesus is saying that an unsalty Christian is not a neutral commodity but a liability. It’s very strong words. How does that work? Think about what’s going on today in our culture. Things are changing extremely fast. Both political parties are morphing at an extremely fast rate. They’re changing in different ways, but they’re both changing. Think about how our culture is viewing who we are as human beings. The meaning of marriage is morphing at an extremely fast rate. What it means to be a man. What it means to be a woman. Everything’s up for grabs.

What’s interesting, if you’re tuned into history, you realize that even though the names are different, a lot of the changes that are occurring today were in Greece, were in Rome. They’re just on repeat, and the church thrived in those contexts. So, what you begin to realize is the greatest threat to the church today is not the culture we live in. That has always changed, will always change, has no foundation, and therefore is always going to be in flux.

The greatest challenge is what Jesus is getting at. It’s when churches and pastors and Christians who claim to be followers of Jesus cease to truly follow him and begin to mimic the world. That’s when we’re in trouble, and that’s what Jesus is saying. The so-called salt has lost its viability. It’s not salty. It’s just mirroring, mimicking the culture around, and therefore it literally serves no purpose. Why do you need it if it’s just aping the culture it exists in?

A couple of years ago, Ben Sixsmith, a journalist, wrote this. He said,

“I am not religious, so it is not my place to dictate to Christians what they should and should not believe. Still, if someone has a faith worth following, I feel that their beliefs should make me feel uncomfortable for not doing so. If they share 90 percent of my lifestyle and values, then there is nothing especially inspiring about them. Instead of making me want to become more like them, it looks very much as if they want to become more like me.”

Douglas Murray (very much not a Christian, perhaps agnostic), said in an interview a couple of years ago with Justin Brierley, “My fear is the church is not doing what so many of us on the outside would like it to do; which is to be preaching its Gospel, to be asserting its truths and its claims. When one sees it falling into all the latest tropes—” What’s a trope? He’s using it here as all the latest cultural cliches.

“one just thinks … ‘Well, that’s another thing gone. It’s like absolutely everything else in this boring, monotone, ill-thought out and shallow dialectic.’”

He’s a real positive guy. But what he’s getting at is when Christians are just like everyone else, we’ve lost our reason to exist. Why do we need more of what isn’t working? Jesus said in verse 13, good to be

“thrown out and trampled under people’s feet.”

So many of us, our greatest fear is to be thought of as different, weird, that we aren’t like everyone else. Of course, if we’re just being weird to be jerks, then yeah, we should be concerned about that, but that’s not what Jesus is talking about. When we are with Jesus and we are like Jesus and we are known as people who follow Jesus—not some political leader, not some cultural movement (whichever direction) but “those are the Jesus people”—we are viable. We are who we claim to be. We’re not going to be perfect. We’re going to mess up and the world is going to mock us and misunderstand us and misrepresent us. Don’t think that if you do this, everybody’s going to applaud. No. We benefit the world when we are, number one, viable, when we are who we say we are.

Second, we benefit the world when we are visible. Here Jesus is switching from salt to light, but I believe he’s getting at the same point. Look at verse 14,

“You are the light of the world.”

That’s emphatic in the original. It’s quite a remarkable statement when you consider the fact that without Jesus, we were darkness. Not just lived in darkness, we were darkness. We lived in darkness. We loved darkness. If we have a choice between being open and honest, we’ll stay in the shadows, we’ll try to get people to think things about us that are not true. We practiced works of darkness. But with Jesus, our hearts become full of light. We become children of light. We put on the armor of light. We become light in a dark world.

Quick digression here, but that reference there, Philippians 2:15, is so interesting. Paul says there we will be lights in a dark world if we are not disputing and grumbling. Think about that. You want to be salt and light tomorrow at work? You could start with one simple thing: don’t complain. People will be like, “Whoa, what’s wrong with this person?” Don’t be characterized by grumbling and disputing and you will shine brightly. The bar is low, folks. Whoo! Yeah! We can start there. That’s what Philippians 2:15 is all about.

Here Jesus uses two illustrations to communicate our visibility. One is a city set on a hill cannot be hidden. A couple of years ago, my wife and I were at the Sea of Galilee. This is my wife walking on the Sea of Galilee. Do not be deceived. It is our skill of skillful camerawork. But if you look across the Sea of Galilee at night— and this is not far from where Jesus taught this sermon so, when he talks about

“a city set on a hill cannot be hidden,”

they can see the Sea of Galilee from where he’s teaching, they’re looking across. Now, of course, that city’s a little brighter today because of electricity. Just a wee bit. But whether it’s oil lamps or electric lamps, when you have light in a dark place, especially up on a hill, Jesus is simply saying it can’t be hidden.

Second illustration, he says,

“Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house.”

He’s just using a little basic logic there. Why would you spend money on valuable oil to light a lamp and then cover it up? Doesn’t make sense. So why would God transform our lives from darkness to light simply to be covered up? Doesn’t make sense. As Bonhoeffer says,

“Flight into the invisible is a denial of the call. A community of Jesus which seeks to hide itself has ceased to follow him.”

Jesus presses this home to our hearts by emphasizing verse 16,

“In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see”

Notice the connection between visibility and proximity. We have to live close enough to the lost so they can see the light.

Around 33 years ago when our church started, I was running a business. Every day, I was interacting with people who worked for me, and we did jobs for those who did not know Jesus, so living and giving the gospel was a very natural daily experience. But I noticed as the church grew and as I went full-time, ministering more and more with and to Christians— over time, you can become isolated from those who don’t know Jesus. It was a little over 20 years ago, we were studying this passage, and the Spirit really spoke to my heart, my wife’s heart, and we made some intentional choices to live, to shine our light before others. I’m not going to go through those because I don’t want to communicate that you need to do what we did. No, we’re all going to do this different. The point is, we’re all called to shine our lights before others.

I remember praying with our kids when they were little, based on this passage and James 1:27, two things many days: to shun and to shine. To shun, not people, but shun the world. Like James 1:27 says, keep yourself unstained from the world, the lust of the flesh, lust of the eyes, pride of life. Every day, Christians are doing those two things: shunning and shining. In James 1:27, shining is to visit orphans and widows or, in the context of this passage, it is to retain your saltiness but radiate the light of Jesus. So, we’re shunning and shining.

Many of us are good at one or the other. We’re good at shunning or shining. In one case, we isolate others and retain our holiness. The other case, we blend in and become no different. Jesus is calling us to do both, and you can see this in our church purpose. Notice how it moves from inside out as we believe God’s Word (what we’re doing right now). We’re sitting under the authority of God’s Word as we gather as life groups, as we wake up in the morning where first and foremost we’re with Jesus, hearing him, receiving what he has for us. He, by His Spirit, is transforming us into his image. But then we’re also connecting with his family. There’s no such thing as the lone Christian. We’re doing this together, but then we’re radiating out as we share his story. So, we’re with Jesus, with one another, and then with the lost. We benefit the world as we are viable and visible.

The third one is valuable. What I mean by that, you’ll see in verse 16,

“so that they may see your good works”

Barclay points out there are two primary Greek words for good: agathos, which is “good in character,” and then kalos, which is “good in quality.” But also in appearance, so it’s good in the sense of winsome, beautiful, attractive. This can be super difficult. How do we live out uncompromising goodness in a way that our lost neighbors might find appealing? The early church wrestled with this question, what does it mean to be salt and light? Life in the Roman Empire could be extremely difficult.

Doctor Rodney Stark, in his book The Rise of Christianity, describes just one city, Antioch, which was not far from where the apostle Paul grew up.

“Any accurate portrait of Antioch in New Testament times,”

Rodney Stark writes,

“must depict a city filled with misery, danger, fear, despair, and hatred. A city where the average family lived a squalid life in filthy and cramped quarters, where at least half of the children died at birth or during infancy”

Pause for a second. Imagine that. How many kids do you have? Half of them not living through childhood.

“and where most of the children who lived lost at least one parent before reaching maturity. A city filled with hatred and fear, rooted in intense ethnic antagonisms and exacerbated by a constant stream of strangers. A city so lacking in stable networks of attachments that petty incidents could prompt mob violence. A city where crime flourished, and the streets were dangerous at night. And, perhaps above all, a city repeatedly smashed by cataclysmic catastrophes: where a resident could expect literally to be homeless from time to time, providing that he or she was among the survivors.”

In this context of disease, poverty, crime, calamity, Christians became known for their beautiful sacrificial works. The church thrived in this city. As Shaunti Feldhahn summarizes Stark’s analysis of Christianity in the first two centuries with these words, “[Stark] was puzzled at how a marginalized, persecuted, often uneducated group of people were able not only to survive, but thrive… He concludes that a key reason was their willingness to sacrifice themselves out of love for each other and for their world. This sacrifice released an explosion of light and heat the world had never known.”

Let me give you one example. In an article in Christian History, Dr. Stark described how Christians responded to two of the great plagues (there were many more) that wiped out a third of the population (AD 165 and AD 251).

“The willingness of Christians to care for others was put on dramatic public display… Pagans tried to avoid all contact with the afflicted, often casting the still-living into the gutters. Christians, on the other hand, nursed the sick, even though some died doing so… Christians also were visible and valuable during the frequent natural and social disasters afflicting the Greco-Roman world: earthquakes, famines, floods, riots, civil wars, and invasions. Even in healthier times, the pagan emperor, Julian, noted the followers of The Way [that’s what he called them, the followers of The Way] ‘support not only their poor, but ours as well.’”

We benefit the world as we are viable, visible, valuable, and then finally, vertical

“so that they may see your good works and give glory to your father who is in heaven.”

We are vertical in the sense of Christians benefit the world when we know what to do with glory. It all goes up. Not out. Not back. Up. And this is not easy. Years ago, I had a neighbor, an older couple who I built a relationship with. He was agnostic. She was Buddhist. There were so many times when I was over at their house helping them with a project when he would go from mockery to flattery. His wife was more responsive to the gospel, so we’d be out working in the yard, and she would be asking great questions and sharing the gospel with her, and he’s heckling. Super helpful. Then a few minutes later, he would be describing the horrible things he’s done in life. “I’m so bad, Peter. You’re so good.” It’s like, “Yes, David, you are bad. And I’m bad.” This is the thing about the gospel: there’s no room for glory to go anywhere but up. We’re in this together, neighbor. I am as messed up as you are. You’re right, you are bad, and not in a Michael Jackson sense of bad. You’re bad, and I’m bad, but he’s good, and so whatever we’re doing, all the glory goes back to our Father. We benefit the world when we live that way. That’s what I mean by vertical, making sure all the glory goes back to our Father in heaven.

What does this look like in the day to day? I’ve been asking some of you over the past few weeks—not a formal scientific study, but just randomly—what do you think it means to be salt and light? I want to share one response and then I want to give some examples, snippets of what some of our people are doing. I’m going to leave the names out because my purpose, again, is not to say, “if you’re really spiritual, you’re going to do it exactly like these people,” but what I pray is that our imaginations would be stimulated to see both how God is using us to do this right now and also how we can grow.

One example, this is a single young man in our church. I asked him, what does it mean to you to be salt and light? This was his email response. It’s just a part of it.

“I try to keep myself located within God’s Grand Story, rather than the busyness of the moment. When I have Christ and our glorious inheritance in mind, it allows me to lay aside any pressure that may come from the immediate. With that said, when I talk with others, I try to find and highlight things that Christians and non-Christians would agree are good, true … and beautiful. For example, rather than getting into a political discussion about the state of our communities, I try to embark on conversations like, ‘What makes a good community?’ Many of the answers my non-Christian friends and coworkers give (strong communal feel, courtesy for neighbors; actual, personalized help for those in need; educational and economic opportunity for everyone; trustworthy leaders …) are in line with and come from Christianity! From here, I can agree with them and show how the heart of God in the gospel lines up with these ideas. It allows me to highlight ways that Christian churches and ministries are addressing these needs. And sometimes, most importantly, I can grieve with them that so many of these things are nonexistent in our communities.

“These conversations require thinking long-term. I’m not trying to ‘win’ an argument or assert my way in a conversation. I want to show them how many things they value line up with the Gospel and help them see God’s heart for humanity. Often they are incredibly surprised!”

He goes on to emphasize how important it is to be honest, how important it is to be willing to say, “I don’t know,” which I think paralyzes a lot of us. We’re afraid. If I get in a conversation with this person, they might ask me a question I don’t know. It’s okay to say, “I don’t know, I want to think about that,” and to be vulnerable, to be honest about our own struggles.

Then he concludes this way,

“My goal is that I interact with them in a way that they trust me enough to ask another question in the future… When I interact with somebody in public, I want their day to be better because they interacted with me. Even if it’s simply a smile and a ‘hello.’ I think God can move in the simplest of things! Imagine if Christians were known as the kindest, most interested people, even if they are a bit weird.”

That combination is huge. Embrace your weirdness, okay? If you’re a believer, you believe Jesus rose from the dead. That is the craziest thing in the world. Once you embrace that, it’s fine. From there on out, all the weirdness is good.

Let me give you a couple other examples. A retired couple—these are people in our church—serving refugees by taking them to doctor appointments, teaching English, being available to help. They’ve been doing this for ten years. A young couple hosting a Spanish Bible study in their home, teaching ESL tutoring, playing soccer, looking for opportunities to invite people to experience the love of Jesus. A retired man volunteers in Kidstuff on Sunday, Literacy on Tuesdays, Good News Club on Wednesday (which is not easy). Numerous men consistently volunteering at church and in the community, helping single moms and widows with home repairs and projects. Speaking of widows, Laura Baker and her volunteer team will be serving widows here at our church on April 13th all day. If you know a widow who could be encouraged or if you would like to volunteer to help, you can jump on the need to know. Around 10 people gather each month here to make 125 meals, and a team of around 10 people take these meals to the homeless and seek to love them well in Jesus’ name. Throughout the year, supplies are provided for the homeless.

This is the part I struggle with, giving these examples, because for every example I just gave you, I could give 20, 30, 40, 50 more. Doctors, nurses loving their patients well, looking for opportunities to pray for or with them. Teachers, students, lawyers, plumbers, electricians using their skills for the common good, to the glory of God. Many of you holding neighborhood Bible studies.

One thing I’ve been thinking about with vocation is some of us think if you get paid, it can’t count as salt in light. Do you think that? Like, no, that’s my job. Well, that’s what you’re spending a big part of your life doing. What would happen if just a little shift occurred, and you realize that’s one of the ways God is using you as salt and light for the common good? I mean, unless you’re selling illegal drugs. What if God is calling you to shine as salt and light by being an honest contractor? Electrician. A teacher. Whatever it is to do what you do well for the glory of God as a follower of Jesus.

If you’re not sure where to begin, we have a great class coming up, a life class called The Art of Neighboring. It’s full of great videos and very concrete examples as to how you can start just by those around you. Like, when I drive around Greenville and see all the apartment complexes going up, all the new homes— I know some of you were like, oh, these people are jamming our roads! And it can make you mad. Or, what if you’re living as salt and light and imagine, Lord, you’re going to call some of us to move into those apartment complexes to start Bible studies, to radiate your love, just to be a kind neighbor. This class is real basic and real practical, so look for more announcements. You can sign up for that class.

Beth Milburn, in our church, was kind enough to make these stickers. I trimmed mine a little and put it on my phone, if you want to be as spiritual as me. Wow. It’s just a little reminder. As you walk out, in a little bit, feel free to grab one. If you’re not going to use it, please don’t take one. But if you would like one, as a reminder, it can be helpful. Let’s pray.

Father, as we prayed last night, maybe the biggest thing for some of us right now is we need you to open our eyes to how you’re already using us. Some of us have this feeling that we never can do enough, and it’s never right enough, and it can be so paralyzing. So, I pray that you would open our eyes. There are hundreds and hundreds of examples in our church family of your followers bringing kindness into their neighborhoods, opening their homes, baking a pie, listening to someone going through a struggle, doing quality work. Lord, open our eyes to what you are doing and then expand our vision. The darker things get in our culture, Lord, the more you’re calling us to radiate your light. May we be the kind of church that, if North Hills disappeared tomorrow, our neighbors would be sad. That if Christians were not in a particular hospital or business or school or neighborhoods apartment complexes, people would notice.

Lord, help us receive that. Not as some kind of threat or crushing burden but an exciting vision. For us to be viable, for us to be who you’ve made us to be. For us to be visible and radiate your light. Valuable in the kind of works that we do, and vertical in the glory we give you. That we would be a people not characterized by grumbling about all the bad things that are happening (which there are plenty, and there always have been and will be), but we are a people who give thanks. It makes a difference. And Lord, if someone here doesn’t know you, may this be the morning when they put their faith in you. Thank you, Lord, for all you’re doing. We give you glory in Jesus’ name, amen.