A Sermon for Epiphany 5A
Pastor Laura Gentry
Matthew 5:13-20
I admit it. I used to hate paprika. I know, I know, it's hard to believe. But it’s true. I just couldn’t see the use for it. I mean, it’s pretty—especially if you sprinkle it on a nice little deviled egg—but if it doesn’t do anything for the flavor of it, what’s the point?
Once, when I was on a back country Boundary Waters trip with my sister and some friends, I reached into the food pack, which was prepared by the professional outfitters from whom we’d rented our canoes, and what did I find in the spice pack? Paprika! Paprika? Seriously? You never want to carry an extra ounce of weight when you go into the Boundary Waters. You have to portage—sometimes long distances with your packs and canoes—so you only want to bring what you absolutely need. And, in my opinion, paprika was a total non-necessity. Why in the world did they pack this for us?! I ranted and raved about it so much on that trip that everyone else ate it excessively just to torment me, saying things like: "Wow this paprika tastes terrifically good on pancakes, Laura. You are really missing out!" So in response, I jokingly formed an organization I called WAP—Women Against Paprika.
Well, it took me many years, but have changed my mind about paprika. Turns out, I was only tasting the really cheap, really old paprika. It had such a faint flavor that I didn’t even consider it a spice. When you buy good paprika and eat it before it gets old, however, it’s actually delicious. In fact, I recently bought some high-quality, smoked Spanish paprika and it has become one of my favorite spices.
You see, a good spice needs to make a difference. You should be able to put it on your food and taste an immediate change. It should bring out the flavor of your food. If not, why bother using it?
Jesus uses spice as one of his metaphors in the Sermon on the Mount, which we read in the Gospel of Matthew this morning. He climbs a mountain and sits down to teach his followers, which in ancient times meant that he was serious. He wants to engage his students. He, then goes on to give them a series of spiritual teachings. In fact, some scholars say that these things were not delivered as one sermon. Instead, they are a collection of the important things he preached frequently about the coming reign of God. You could think of it as his “greatest hits” sermon. Clearly, everything in it is important and so it serves us to take a closer look at what was written.
First, let’s look at the students gathered around Jesus on the mount. Like any good preacher, Jesus is delivering a message to his specific audience. So what were these people like? Well, this was a time of oppression by outsiders for Israel. It’d actually been a problem for them since the Exile 600 years earlier. They’d been wondering why God would let this happen to them. They weren’t sure how to handle their suffering. They were tired of being outsiders and desperately wanted to obtain political freedom so that they could preserve their religion and culture.
These people who have gathered around Jesus don’t know him as resurrected Savior as we do. For them, he is just one more voice in this debate about what to do politically. Yet, he is a challenging voice with much to say to them in the midst of their oppression.
In the “beattitudes” section of this sermon, which we heard last week, Jesus lifts up some fairly unlikely people – the poor in spirit, the meek and the merciful, those who mourn and those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, the pure in heart, the peacemakers, and the persecuted – and calls them blessed, which also means happy. He tells them that God’s reign is breaking in and they can be happy even in their present bleak circumstances, even in the midst of their oppression.
Then Jesus calls the people—and that includes you and me today—two things: "the salt of the earth" and "the light of the world." These are everyday images, yet they are packed with meaning.
Salt of the earth. What does Jesus mean by that? Well, as I explained in my opening discussion, flavorless paprika is worthless. So is salt that has lost its saltiness. Even today, we can appreciate that salt has to stay salty to be worth anything.
But in our modern world, salt has been given a bad name. Since we typically use overly processed salt and it’s so prevalent in prepared foods, it has come to be associated with high blood pressure and heart disease. This was not so in the ancient world. It was used not just as a zesty seasoning and as a preserver of food, but it was a disinfectant, it was rubbed on newborn children, used to seal covenants, sprinkled on sacrifices, and understood as a metaphor for wisdom. Salt was so important that it was regarded as a miraculous substance associated with God's gracious activity. Keeping your saltiness, then, is a big deal in this metaphor.
Light of the world. What does Jesus mean by that? This metaphor seems a bit easier to grasp. Jesus recalls the words of the prophet Isaiah that "the people who sat in darkness have seen a great light." For those who were lost or in despair, on them "light has dawned." Jesus is himself this light. He illuminates our way. He gives us hope and direction. When we baptize people, we recall the words of Jesus from this Gospel passage: “let your light so shine before others that they may see your good works and glorify your Father who is in heaven."
To be the light of the world is a daunting task. We can’t do it on our own. We must be a channel of the divine. We must allow God’s light to shine in and through us by the things we do. We are to valuing those who are dispossessed, care for those who suffer loss, seek to do justice, show mercy, have integrity, be peacemakers, and courageously stand up for what we believe. That’s being light to the world.
However, the church has been challenged for some time, even before the global economy veered toward collapse. Just about all the major denominations in the US have lost numbers and influence in recent years. It’s difficult to make Christ known in this fast-paced, digital age. As Christians, we are not understood or appreciated by our world. In the face of this opposition, it is not easy to remain steadfast. It is not easy to keep on keeping on, to hold fast to what we believe, to love all people and continue to work for justice on behalf of those in need.
But this difficulty is nothing new. Back in Jesus’ day it was a problem. That’s why he told them implicitly that they were to be the salt of the earth and the light of the world. This is and always has been our mission as Jesus’ followers. This is exactly why we are here and we don’t need to expect that task to be easy. It never was.
Yet as the salt of the earth, as the light of the world we are different from our culture. We have faith. We have hope. We are called to live the new life that we’ve been given by God. Like salt changes the flavor and dynamics of the food it’s placed on, we are to make changes in our world. Like light illuminates its surroundings, we are to illuminate and change our world. We are to be active—not just talking about love and mercy, but doing it. And if we neglect to do this, we are like salt that has been rendered unsalty. We are like a flashlight whose batteries have grown dim. Perhaps you could even say we are like flavorless paprika that doesn’t deserve to be carried out on a wilderness trek and against whom organizations like WAP could form. If we neglect our mission, we are worthless.
Jesus has given us quite a challenge. We must remain salty. We must remain bright. How? It seems the only way this is possible is for us to plug into our source. We must know Jesus. Really know him. We must sit as his feet—as the people did on the mount— so that we can learn from him. Our entire Christian life hinges upon our relationship with Christ. This is why prayer, scriptures, worship and the sacraments are so important. They deepen our relationship with Jesus. And when this connection is deep and strong, then we can simply allow his light to shine through us. Doing God’s work is a natural desire placed in our hearts. So in this season of light, let us pay special attention to God’s light—that in drawing near it, it may shine more brightly through us. Amen.
© 2011 Laura E. Gentry
