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Epiphany V February 6, 2011 Matthew 5:13-20 Memories of salt. That is what came to mind as I started reading this text a week or two ago. I remembered back when I was in eighth grade and my dad was suffering from a bleeding ulcer and subsequently placed on a salt-free diet. Mom prepared two meals a couple of times a day, one for dad, one for the rest of us. I felt sorry for him, especially since he had been told to eat a lot of liver, so I told mom that I would eat what dad ate. I did, and no amount of salt substitute could make up for the taste, or sometimes lack of taste, in that food. My mind continued in this vein as I recalled driving through what I considered to be one of the ugliest places in the United States, the area around the Great Salt Lake in Utah. Fortunately, for me at least, I did not have to spend much time there. But then, I started reflecting my several-times-a-week commute to Menlo Park in the Bay Area of northern California, driving past and through the salt flats. They were a little more interesting to see, but I drove through there with the windows up and the air conditioner off, every time I took that route. Memories of salt continued to flash through my mind when I remembered making lefse, and if I say so myself, I make good lefse, but forgetting to put in a pinch of salt. It tasted so flat that I threw the whole batch out. Somewhere in the neighborhood of about ten pounds of lefse went right into the garbage. That little pinch of salt makes a world of difference. Then of course I wondered if a person could even drive in Minnesota during our nine months of winter if we no longer used salt on the roads. I recalled Caltrans in the Tahoe area of California experimenting by not using salt on the roads in the mountain area during a winter or two when we lived there. There was a lot of damage to road and the plants that lined the roads from the use of salt, but it seemed that none of the alternatives worked out and safety became the paramount concern. So many memories of salt. Of course, for those of us who suffer from high blood pressure, and for doctors everywhere, salt is the bane of healthy living. In fact the federal government just suggested new guidelines cutting average salt intake to half a teaspoon a day. This is no doubt, a good thing, as I recall having breakfast more than once with a pastor friend of mine back in California, who liked his salt. Lots of salt. So much salt that every time we ate together I would ask him if he would like eggs with his salt. As you might imagine, he has suffered from high blood pressure and heart attacks for years. I suppose to our way of thinking, salt is incredibly abundant, after all, you find it everywhere. But this was not the case back in Jesus' time. Back then it was a precious commodity, both as a preservative and as something that would add some flavor to what was being eaten. So when Jesus told his disciples "You are the salt of the earth," he told them that they were a rare commodity, a valuable commodity, something that added flavor while at the same time challenging the decay in the world. Jesus tells you "You are the salt of the earth." Now here we find that the word "you" is emphatic, and even restrictive, restrictive meaning that it is directed only to Jesus' disciples, not to people in general. Something else we notice is that the short phrase "you are" is not an imperative, but indicative. In other words, Jesus is not telling us to be something we are not, instead he is telling us what we are. We are the salt of the earth. So does Jesus mean for us, as well as the disciples back then, that we are a preservative of some sort, or that we add some seasoning to life, or both. The short answer is "yes." We, you and I, and our brothers and sisters all through the world, can challenge, sometimes even prevent, spoilage and corruption in the affairs of the world. We are called to act against decay. But, we can add some flavor to life, adding a message of God's love to all we say and do, adding a special spirit to the everyday affairs of our lives and the lives we touch. We care for others, helping and teaching them, sharing the good news of the Gospel, bringing a message of hope where there oft is no hope to be found. This is exactly what Jesus tells us to do, to serve as he came to serve. To literally make a difference in the world around us, in our immediate surroundings, and outside our congregation. Consider then, that as seasoning we take on the character of Jesus' message in the first 12 verses of the Beatitudes, those you heard Pastor Glenn talk about last week. We bring a message of forgiveness, we bring a message of healing, we bring a message of justice tempered with mercy driven by love, we bring a message of reconciliation. But we do not stop there, we bring food and comfort, and companionship, we provide material goods and financial aid, and our prayers. We bring and give ourselves in service. We step out of ourselves in our serving, not just in serving one another, but in serving outside our congregation. We are blessed and we are a blessing to others as we, by the work we do, give glory to our Father in heaven. AMEN Lutheran Church of the Cross, Nisswa, Minnesota |
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