JC Disciples
To Be ... Or Else
Isaiah 58:5-9a, Psalm 112, I Corinthians 2:1-5, Matthew 5:13-20
"I've decided to become a 'Christian scientist'," a co-worker announced to my friend Terri. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, he didn't mean that he was joining the sect that goes by that name. No, Mark had a different meaning in mind for his term "Christian scientist." During his college career, he had been exposed to several scientific disciplines in his pursuit of a geology degree. Now it was his intention to apply the process of scientific investigation he had learned to the Christians he knew. And, he told Terri, "You'll be the first one I put under my microscope."
"Don't look at me," Terri protested. "I won't measure up." Indeed, who among us would measure up to such intense scrutiny from a like-minded nonbeliever? I doubt any of us would be found to be living our faith perfectly. An investigating nonbeliever would find flaws, sins, and failures.
It would take an extraordinary saint to measure up to the exacting standards an nonbeliever like Mark would use. Perhaps someone like Mother Teresa might pass the test. She is extraordinary, isn't she? Even the most charitable among us marvel at her ability to live among the poorest of poor in the slums of Calcutta. The tenderness with which she cares for the dying seems truly genuine, and her claim that she sees the face of Christ in each one is compelling. Her works of charity consistently place her near the top of any list of most-admired women, or even most-admired people, in the world. She is so resolute in her convictions that she can speak out against abortion in front of someone like President Clinton so compellingly that, even though he disagrees with her, he remarks, "It is hard to argue with a life well-lived."
But is anyone here in the same league with Mother Teresa? How could we be? She has a special calling from God. She must be somehow different than the rest of us ordinary Christians. How else could she do these seemingly impossible tasks? We tell ourselves that we are just not like that and will probably never be.
Without a doubt, Mother Teresa does have a special calling from God. And she is indeed gifted to fulfill it. But she may not be that much different than any of us. Do you know "the rest of the story?"
Actually, I did hear Paul Harvey relate "The Rest of the Story" about Mother Teresa. It surprised me to hear how she came to be the woman she is today. It may surprise you as well.
Even as a young girl (although she was known by another name then), "Mother Teresa" was taught to consider those less fortunate than herself. Her own mother had scarcely enough food, clothing, or money to provide for Teresa's family, yet she impressed upon her daughter the importance of helping others who had even less.
We can understand this. Most of our parents have impressed upon us the importance of helping others as we are able. Perhaps the poor truly understand each other. Maybe shared hardship brings camaraderie. A cynic might even remark, "Who could miss what she never had?"
There's always a kicker to these "Rest of the Story" stories. Here is the kicker in Mother Teresa's story: her family was not always poor. Once they had been quite well-off. It was then that Teresa's mother first taught her daughter about the importance of helping the less fortunate. But when Teresa's father died, the family lost all of its sizeable assets. Despite losing all her material resources, Teresa's mother continued to care for those who had even less. And she taught her daughter to do the same.
Now we might see Mother Teresa in a different light. Today she lives the lifestyle she saw her own mother model. She continues to follow her mother's teaching. Is that in itself so extraordinary?
I say this not to belittle or diminish the work that Mother Teresa does. Her work is incredible and the praise she receives is valid. But what I hope you'll see is that she is not so far removed from us as we might have thought earlier.
It's easy to think: "I'm only one person. This problem is too immense. My efforts would be just be a drop in the bucket. There really isn't much I could do. And whatever I could do wouldn't make much of a difference anyway."
Maybe it is true. There are large problems in the world around us. Maybe there is little any of us could do to affect these situations. But, like Mother Teresa, we have been taught what we should do. Like her, we too have a calling to be about God's work. Our callings may not take us to the place hers has, but they are callings nonetheless.
The people of Israel, to whom the word of God recorded in Isaiah was given, thought they knew what they were to do for God. They kept the appointed holy days. They fasted. They humbled themselves. They put on sackcloth and ashes as signs of their humility. From external appearances, it looked like they were doing the right thing. Indeed, they were fulfilling the requirement of the law. Yet they were missing the point.
Their perfunctory performances were fulfilling legal requirements, but their hearts weren't affected. The reason for the fasts, and for the whole law, was to bring about lifestyle changes. They went hungry for a day, but they ignored those who were hungry every day. They wore rags for a day, but neglected those who had nothing but rags to wear. They were humble before God, but they failed to lift up those who had been humiliated by society. The lessons they should have learned from their spiritual practices were not carried out in their daily lives.
God wasn't impressed by this mindless keeping of specific practices. What God wanted to see in God's people was a living, active faith. It was on this point that the Israelites failed. God did not depend upon their fasts and prayers as though God needed something from these activities. Instead, God was counting on them to carry out work needed in their society.
But we as Christians are saved by grace alone, not by works of obedience to the law. We are free from any obligations like those of the Israelites of Old Testament times. Still, if that's true, why are we reading a passage like that from Isaiah?
This text speaks to matters of lifestyle. It describes the kinds of actions God desires to see in the lives of God's people. The gospel lesson shows us how it is possible to do these things, how we can succeed where the Israelites failed. Jesus came to fulfill the law for us. But Jesus also promised that the law would not be abolished and that those who kept the commandments would be called greatest in the kingdom of heaven.
Consider these words of Jesus from our gospel lesson today: "You are the salt of the earth. You are the light of the world." Before we look closer at what Jesus said, let's look at what he might have said, but didn't.
Jesus did not say "You will become salt" or "You will become light." Such statements speak of a future condition, a state we have yet to realize. The implication here is that we are asked to transform ourselves over a period time. Jesus did not map out a process by which we could be made into salt and light.
Jesus did not say "You should be salt" or "You should be light." Being salt or light was not presented as some sort of "Eleventh Commandment" or a goal we should try to reach. Jesus did not give us an option to consider and then decide what we'd like to do.
Jesus did not say "You are like salt" or "You are like light." He did not compare us to these things by means of a simile. Salt and light were not presented to us as examples of how we should act.
Hear again the words of Jesus: "You are the salt of the earth. You are the light of the world." Notice the verb. English students will recognize it as the second person, present tense form of the verb to be. This indicates an event happening right now. At this very moment, we are salt; we are light.
Being salt and light is not something for us to aspire to become. This is not something for us to work at doing. Salt and light are not just things we should emulate. We already are the salt of the earth and the light of the world, right here, right now.
We are salt and light. But what does that mean? Today salt is primarily a food seasoning. Most of us love the taste of it, and the "food police" are always railing against it. But despite its poor nutritional reputation, salt is important to the functioning of our bodies.
In Biblical times, salt was so important that Roman soldiers were given a salt allowance as part of their pay. (In fact, this practice gave rise to the word salary.) Salt was used for preserving foods and for medicinal purposes. Rock salt was spread lightly on the ground for fertilizer.
It was this last use of salt that Jesus was probably alluding to in our gospel reading for today. Moisture and high heat could rob rock salt of its mineral content and cause the salt to lose its "saltiness", to become worthless. So to be salt means that we are to be fertilizer, to help others grow in faith.
We do understand the concept of light. Light does a lot of things for us today, even as it did in biblical times. Light disperses darkness. It helps us to see, but it also helps us to feel safe and secure. Light promotes feelings of comfort like the warmth from the sun or the glowing of a fire.
Lights come in different sizes. A flood light is great for illuminating a large area like a parking lot. But biggest is not necessarily best when it comes to lights. A small night light is much better for providing comfort to a child afraid of the darkness. And nothing seems to fit a romantic moment more than the soft light of a candle. It isn't the size of the light that matters most. It is where the light is placed and how it is used that matters. That is what it means for us to be light. We are to shine God's light on those around us wherever we are.
We are salt and light, even now, just as we are. Everywhere we go, in all that we do, we bring God's light and nurture spiritual growth in those around us. We don't need to make any special effort to do this. It is simply a fact of our lives as Christians. But if we don't have to work at it, how is it possible?
Consider these words from our gospel lesson: "In the same way, let your light shine before others that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven." Do they sound familiar? We hear them in the baptismal liturgy when the small candle is presented to the baptized. It is there, in baptism, that we are made to be salt and light. We are not salt and light by our own efforts or abilities. We are salt and light because God's Spirit is moving in us.
To be salt and light is God's calling in each of our lives. Some salt rocks may be bigger than others. Some lights, like Mother Teresa, may light up the entire world. Others, like my friend Terri, may only shine in a small corner. But all of us are salt and light. To be or not to be is not the question. There is no option open to us here. We are salt and light.
Like Terri, we may protest, "Don't look at me. I can't measure up." But consider the people to whom Jesus' words first came. Simon Peter was there for the Sermon on the Mount. Peter, as you may recall, was capable of some extraordinary leaps of faith. But he was equally capable of some monumental failings, the worst being to flatly deny that he knew Jesus. Thomas, who would later doubt that Jesus had risen from the grave, may have been present as well. And what about Judas Iscariot, the one who would betray Jesus? Could he have been there too? Even if he wasn't, other disciples who heard these words, like Andrew and James, were nowhere to be found while Jesus was tried and executed. Jesus called them salt and light, but I doubt they'd measure up to Mark's standards any better than Terri would have.
Our being salt and light isn't dependent on our ability to be perfect. It is a result of God's grace working in our lives. People like Mark are watching. Maybe they are indeed watching to see our faults and failings, but we can't let fear stop us from shining.
How do we shine our lights? How do we promote growth like rock salt? We do so with a living, active faith. God's Spirit is at work in each of us to accomplish those actions of faith that the Israelites failed to do. These actions will shine unless we quench the Spirit's movement in our lives. This is how we might put our lamps under bowls. This is how we , as salt, lose our "saltiness". Just as none of us would turn on a light only to cover it up, so God never intended our lives to be hidden from view. God has placed each of us, as lights, precisely where we need to be to shine effectively.
May we all let our lights shine, wherever God has placed us, so that others around us may come to know God because of what they see in us. Amen.