[Sermon preached on 21 October 2018, Reformation Sunday / 3rd year, ELCF Lectionary]
We sing it almost every Sunday in church with the kids:
“This little light of mine—I’m gonna let it shine. Everywhere I go, I’m gonna let it shine.”
But I wonder how many of us really think about what we sing. What is “this little light” that we sing about? Are we really determined to let it shine? How do we do that? How do we make sure that others can see that little light? Am I ready to have that little light of mine shine really everywhere I go?
Around us and inside us, we find two kinds of darkness. The first is that of hopelessness and despair. It is the darkness of being in a tunnel and not seeing the light at the end. It is the darkness of not knowing where to turn to or where to go from here, and of wondering if it is worth going anywhere.
In Finland, as in many other countries around the world, suicide rates among young people are very high. The most obvious motives driving people towards ending their lives are emptiness, lack of meaning and purpose, and fear of the future in a world of growing unrest, violence, and ecological disaster. Asylum seekers attempt suicide when they hear that they will be returned to their home lands, where violence and death threats are surely awaiting them.
I think that the image Jeremiah uses in the Old Testament lesson of the tree out there in the wilderness is one that many people, young and old, can identify with.
The second darkness that we find in and around us is that of evil. Some of you are here now because you have escaped the evil of violence and war in your own country. But it is utterly impossible to escape the impact of evil—even in Finland, and even in our church.
The world seems to be gradually moving towards an ever-expanding state of war. Talk about peace, which was still the norm and politically correct twenty years ago, now sounds naïve and unrealistic. Violence and substance abuse are escalating even on the streets of our peaceful city.
The Bible says that, when God created the world, it was veiled in darkness—until God said, “Let there be light.” And there was light. Today, the darkness seems to have the upper hand again. It dominates in more and more lives, and in more and more communities and nations and regions of the world.
In today’s Gospel reading from Matthew, from the sermon that Jesus preached on the mountain, Jesus addresses the problem of darkness and light. He also speaks about salt and the lack of it. What is the context?
When we look at the opening words of the Sermon on the Mount, we find a series of blessings, known as the Beatitudes. Jesus singles out certain kinds of people who enjoy God’s special favor. What kind of people does he talk about? They are the poor in spirit, those who mourn, the meek, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, the merciful, the pure in heart, the peacemakers, those who are persecuted because of righteousness and because of Jesus.
What does our society say about these people? They say, “These people are losers, pitiful losers! They are good for nothing, other than to be trampled upon!” And that is what often happens to such people. People like this are crushed under the feet of those who run to stay in the competition and to reach the finish first. They are abused by those who love power and influence.
But what does Jesus say to those people? “You are the salt of the earth!” “You are the light of the world!” “You have a special mission. You are making a huge difference to the world around you.”
Jesus first uses the image of salt. It is an image that doesn’t necessarily open up to us very easily. What could Jesus mean?
Well, in his days, salt would mainly be used in common life for two purposes.
The most common was to season food, to make it tasty and pleasant to eat. When we add salt to the food in the right amount, not too much and not too little, salt can accentuate the best flavor of meat or fish or vegetables. That’s why we add salt to our food.
But in earlier days, salt was also used a lot to preserve food. There were no fridges or freezers in Palestine 2,000 years ago. The way to preserve meat or fish for extended periods of time was to treat it with huge amounts of salt. As a result, the meat or fish stayed good and eatable for months on end, even during the hot season.
Because of these two ways in which salt was being used—seasoning and preservation—it was often used as a metaphor for wisdom. On the one hand, wisdom brings the best out of our knowledge and our capacity. On the other hand, listening to the voice of wisdom and acting accordingly can help preserve society or even save lives. Therefore, wisdom is like salt.
That is how also Paul understood the metaphor of salt. He wrote to the Colossians:
“Be wise in the way you act toward outsiders; make the most of every opportunity. Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone.”
That would also explain what Jesus says about salt “losing its saltiness”. The fact of the matter is that salt is salt, pure sodium chloride, and therefore it will always be salty. If it is pure salt, it cannot lose its saltiness. There is no way that can happen. But in the ancient Middle East, most so-called salt was a mixture of chemical substances. It could happen that the sodium chloride was gradually dissolved, and the remaining mix would lose its salty taste.
The word that Jesus uses for “losing its saltiness” literally means: “being or becoming silly or foolish”. That is how e.g. Paul uses that same word in his letters to the Romans when he writes:
“Although they claimed to be wise, they became fools.”
So then, what Jesus is saying is this: “The world thinks that you are pitiful losers, the scum of the earth. And they trample on you to make their point. But I say: You bring taste and wisdom to the world that they don’t have. If the world wants to gain wisdom, if society wants to look for ways of sustainable development and lasting solutions to its problems, they will have to look at you. They will have to take you seriously. Because only in and through you they can discover the principles of the kingdom of God.”
Unfortunately, many Christians don’t live like the salt of the earth. In the eyes of their non-Christian neighbors and colleagues they are tasteless, or even distasteful.
Let’s face it: Many Christians live in a way that expresses a sad lack of joy and life—and of wisdom, for that matter.
The famous author Robert Louis Stevenson once wrote an entry in his diary about something very extraordinary that happened to him on a Sunday morning:
“I was in church today, and to my surprise I did not get depressed.”
In the media—and especially in the social media—I sometimes see Christians stand up for their faith. Often, I feel deeply ashamed when I see how foolish and silly the way they try to defend what is holy to them. They have “lost their saltiness”. They have become silly and foolish.
We should not make fools of ourselves just to prove that we are Christians. The fact that we adopt the values of God’s kingdom and are labeled “losers” by the rest of society does not mean that we should behave like losers.
If we want to have a preserving effect on our society and bring out the best of life, we need to live and speak wisely. We should make the most of our resources, our gifts, our conversations, and our opportunities. Not shy away when people question our faith or our values. But boldly proclaim and defend what we believe.
Jesus encourages his disciples in Luke 21:
“For I will give you words and wisdom that none of your adversaries will be able to resist or contradict.”
It is our calling and our responsibility to make a difference to this world: By showing mercy and compassion to those who are rejected by society and fall out off the boat. But also, by using whatever influence we have at our disposal to change society from within. That can be anywhere from politics to business to education to neighborhood or voluntary involvement. Each of us have a unique calling.
But we are not only the salt of the earth. We are also the light of the world. What does light do?
First of all, it expels the darkness. It expels the fear of the unseen. There are many people who start panicking when they are immersed in darkness.
Four years ago, I spend a few minutes in a deep cave in complete darkness. There were several of us together. We were perfectly safe. We had no reason whatsoever to fear. And yet, people got scared.
Darkness can be really frightening. We all know that. In a world full of fear and loneliness and hopelessness and violence and hatred, the light of Christ is needed more than ever.
Light also helps us navigate. Before we had GPS devices and Google maps, people looked to the stars to find their way. A city on a hill would reveal from far away where to go. Or inside the house, lamps would help us avoid stumbling over chairs and tables or stepping on each other’s toes.
Our society has systematically dimmed the light that reveals God. The wisdom and guidance of God’s word is turned down because it reminds us that God is in charge, and that we are accountable to him.
Satan—the ultimate enemy of God—is called the prince of darkness. That says a lot. Where there is no light, evil reigns.
And that is exactly why we are called to be the light of the world. Where there is light, evil is exposed. Transparency is the best way of preventing violence, criminality and abuse. And most of all, light helps the world see God as he really is, in all his glory.
Jesus tells us to let our light shine and not to hide it.
So many Christians feel uncomfortable showing and sharing their faith beyond the walls of their homes and churches, or beyond the circle of Christian friends. Some churches organize events and meetings virtually every day of the week. Quoting Hebrews 10:25, they tell their members how important it is to attend these meetings as much as they can.
Their objective may be noble: They want to equip their members for the Christian life and strengthen their fellowship. But at the same time, they isolate them from the world in which they live—from the society in which they are called to be the light.
Certainly, it is so much more comfortable to meet with other believers who do not question our beliefs and values. But Jesus calls us out of our comfort zone, to let our light shine in the darkness. Only there we can make a difference.
Christianity is meant to be seen. I believe it was Dietrich Bonhoeffer who said,
“There can be no such thing as secret discipleship, for either the secrecy destroys the discipleship, or the discipleship destroys the secrecy.”
Our Christian faith should be perfectly visible to everybody, not only within the Church. A faith whose effects stop at the church door is not much use to anyone.
It should be even more visible in our ordinary day-to-day activities: in the way we treat a shop assistant across the counter, in the way we order a meal in a restaurant, in the way we treat our employees or serve our employer, in the way we drive a car, in the language we use, in the TV programs we watch, or in the books we read.
A Christian should be just as much a Christian in the workplace, the classroom, the health center, the kitchen, and on the bus, as they are in church. Jesus did not say, “You are the light of the Church.” He said, “You are the light of the world.” And as we take part in life in our society, our Christian faith should be evident to all.
Jesus concludes with two conditions concerning letting our light shine. The first gives the answer to the question, how? The second answers the question, why—for what purpose?”
How? Through good deeds that can be seen by everyone. As the letter of James reminds us, faith that does not result in good deeds is as dead as a tree that does not produce fruit. It reminds us of Jeremiah’s description in our Old Testament reading.
Here in Matthew 5, Jesus speaks about deeds that are not just good, but “beautiful and attractive”. That is what the Greek word for “good” (“kalos”) really means.
If the wick of an oil lamp is properly soaked with good oil, it will produce a bright flame when lit. If we are filled with the good Spirit of God, we will shine brightly. It will affect our whole personality, our values, and our attitude towards others. And again, we might look at Jeremiah 17, and learn from the tree that is rooted beside the water, bearing fruit time and again.
In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus speaks not only about fulfilling the law, but about going the extra mile, turning the other cheek, excelling in righteousness, charity and good works far beyond what we have to. Not because we are forced to. Not because we feel obliged. But because we choose to, joyfully and voluntarily. Those are the beautiful and attractive deeds that draw people’s attention and make them wonder why.
What better compliment than that people come to God because they have seen his love transform our lives and radiate from us in visible and touching ways!
I can’t help adding a little anecdote here. A few weeks ago, I was on my way from Helsinki to go home. I took the last train and sat down beside a young Iraqi man who was immersed in his mobile phone. When the train left the conductors came to check our tickets. The boy looked helpless as he showed the conductor that he was unable to buy a mobile ticket. Somehow the app did not work properly. The conductor told the boy briskly to get out at the next station. It did not seem to matter that this was the last train.
I checked my own mobile ticket and discovered that it is actually possible to buy multiple tickets on the same phone. So, I bought a second ticket for the boy and showed it to him and to the conductor. Now, the boy could stay on the train and get home.
The boy could hardly believe what had just happened. He asked, “Why? Why do you do this for me?” And almost immediately, he added, “You are not a Finn, are you?”
That brings us to the question of purpose: Why be a light in the world—for what purpose?
Certainly not to earn points, to gain popularity, to get lots of likes and friends on Facebook, or to have another anecdote to use in my sermon. This is not about us. After all, we are not the source of light. We are merely reflecting or transmitting the light of Christ. It is his glory that should be our concern.
One of the greatest composers of all times, Johann Sebastian Bach, signed all his church music with the letters S.D.G. They stand for “Soli Deo Gloria”, “To God only be the glory”. Bach realized so clearly that the music he composed was not his own but that it was given and inspired by God. And therefore, his major concern was that wherever his music was used in worship—or even in the concert hall or the intimacy of the home—it would be to the glory of God.
Our concern should be that, in performing beautiful and attractive deeds, we do not turn the focus on ourselves but on God, so that he might get all the glory for what he does and gets done through us.
In the end, it is all about the kingdom of God. Jesus gave us the Great Commission to go out to the ends of the world and call people to receive Christ as their Lord and Savior and to become his followers.
Paul writes in Romans 10:
“ ‘Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.’
How, then, can they call on the one they have not believed in?
And how can they believe in the one of whom they have not heard?
And how can they hear without someone preaching to them?
And how can anyone preach unless they are sent?”
If we allow ourselves to be silly and foolish, we lose our saltiness and our opportunity to make a difference to the world.
If we keep our light under a bowl to keep it from being seen by outsiders, we forfeit many unique opportunities to share our faith with non-believers and to show them that Jesus is worthy of their fullest trust.
Let us therefore go out, wisely and boldly, to show Christ to the world, in words of wisdom and in deeds of beauty and mercy, and to give God the glory!
Amen.
