Matthew 5:38-48 "We Have Met the Enemy"

         A pastor once preached a sermon based on the passage we just read.  Because he always tried to make his sermons interactive by somehow including the congregation, he began in this way.

         “Now, I’ll bet that many of us feel as if we have enemies in our lives. So raise your hand if you have many enemies.”  Quite a few of the more honest people raised their hands.

         “Now raise your hand if you have only a few enemies,” he dared.  About half as many people raised their hands that time.

         “Now raise your hand if you have only one or two enemies.”  In response this challenge, just a couple of people raised their hands.

         “See,” he said, feeling smug now that he had made his point, “most of us feel like we have enemies. Now raise your hand if you have no enemies at all.”

         The pastor looked around the sanctuary.  Not expecting – and now not seeing – any hands waving, he began to move on.  However, out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed an elderly man in the very back row begin to stand up. 

         The gentleman interrupted the pastor and announced, “I have no enemies whatsoever!”

         Astonished, the pastor invited the man to the front of the church.  What a blessing!” the pastor said.  “How old are you?”

         “I’m 98 years old, and I have no enemies,” the elderly parishioner declared.

         The pastor responded warmly, “What a wonderful Christian life you have led! Tell us - how it is that you have no enemies.”

         “Why, it was easy!“ the man replied.  “I outlived them all!”

         We have been reflecting for the entire month of February on what we call the Sermon on the Mount – and it has not been an easy journey. We began with Jesus blessing the poor and the meek and the pure in heart and wondered just where that left us who would rather not be poor and thought of as weak and who think that life is a lot more fun when a tad of impurity is thrown in every once in a while. 

         Later, we tackled the difficult topics of anger, swearing, adultery, and divorce.  And now the Gospel writer wraps it all up by focusing on what Jesus had to say about those people we despise, the ones who have hurt us, double-crossed us, trampled on us, the ones we can not forgive: our enemies. 

         In this final passage of the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus challenges us to reflect on the three R’s that seem to characterize our culture – rights, revenge, and relations.  One blogger I read this week put it this way:  “We’re driven by a concern to hold onto our Rights, we want to hold onto what is ours. We’re driven by a need for Revenge; we want to take back what should be ours. And we’re driven by loyalty to our Relations; we all have an inner circle of family and a few friends and our main task is to be loyal to them.” 

         This blogger has most of us pegged, no doubt about it.  Who among us does not want to get the best of those who have wronged us and who among us does not want to come out on top? 

         And to think that way is not necessarily a bad motive.  Jesus might even agree with it.  After all, he did not want us to be downtrodden doormats – really!  Perhaps it is just a matter of how one goes about getting that upper hand.

         And that is where Jesus and our dominant culture differ.  You see, our most common method of achieving that goal of besting our enemies has traditionally been violent forms of retaliation –

be it striking out at our kids, domestic violence, or finding ourselves, if not supporting then passively standing by, as our nation engages in war after war after war, financed by a burgeoning military budget that eclipses that of any other nation on earth.  After all, we reason, an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth: It is in the Bible, right? 

         An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth:  It is our God-pronounced justification for violence – in addition to being a sign of power, a symbol of strength, and, I mean, who wants to be a doormat and get walked over by a child, a spouse, a nation.  Violent retaliation?  Passive acceptance?  Revenge?  Doormat?  Those seem to be the choices.

         However, if we carefully read this challenging passage, we find Jesus saying:  No, there is another way. You do not have to turn to violent revenge, and you do not have to be a doormat either. 

         “How so?” we engage him.  And Jesus takes the bait, beginning to weave his countercultural philosophy at precisely the same point where we always seem to begin - our age-old justification for violent intervention – an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth. 

         Did you know those words are in the Old Testament?  They are found in Leviticus, the book that outlines in detail the entire scope of ancient Jewish law. 

         And did you know that this particular requirement – and eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth - was actually meant to curb and set limits to, not justify, all out violence?  This Jewish law contrasted the typical ancient practice of killing an entire family or burning down a whole village to avenge the loss of an eye or a tooth. 

         This law was a new way of doing things.  Rather than hurting someone more and escalating violence, the Jewish law declared that retribution should be consistent with the wrong done.  The punishment should fit the crime, so to speak. 

         However, Jesus goes a step further and declares that the cycle of violence needs to be broken all together.  In this text, he offers three examples of how to respond to a commonplace situation in his day and age without violence, yet still not end up as a doormat.  Jesus talks about three behaviors - slapping the right cheek; suing in court, and being forced to go a mile carrying a heavy Roman soldier’s pack.  Before we look at them more closely, it is important to understand that these behaviors were not behaviors anyone could take on.  Only the affluent, the privileged few could engage in them – and did – when it came to the peasants and low lifes that Jesus preached to.

         The first behavior was turning the other cheek.  At least, that is how we refer to it even though the behavior is in fact offering your left cheek to be slapped – and that is an important distinction.  David Ewart in his blog “Holy Textures” summarizes the situation well. 

         Masters slapped the right cheek of their servants and slaves as a sign of rank, privilege, and power.  “It was always done by hitting with the back of the right hand across the right cheek….
(Ewart writes) And to preserve one's honor (or) public standing - it (was) crucial everything be done according to (these) socially accepted protocols.

         The slave must obediently stand facing you....You must strike only the right cheek; and only with the back of the right hand. Any variation on this would demonstrate that you were not in control…
Now imagine your overlord has just slapped you on your right cheek, and without saying a word you silently turn your head to expose your left cheek.

         It appears that you are becoming doubly subservient… But you are actually rendering your master powerless!
 Turning your head hides your right cheek and presents your left cheek. But the angle of your head will be such that the master can see, but cannot strike your left cheek with the back of his right hand.  (Remember how important the protocol is).

         You would appear to be meek and servile; obediently waiting for a second blow. But the Master would be totally helpless. His only options would be to hit you with the palm of his right hand, or use his left hand, or walk away. All three would cause him to lose face.”

         Even though you are a servant or slave, you have made your point.  You have retaliated, but not with violence.  

         OK - Let’s look at the second behavior Jesus points to - being sued in court.  Again, David Ewart explains Jesus’ reasoning for what might seem like passive acceptance.  

         “Since peasants quite literally only owned the clothes on their backs, being sued for your coat was being sued for the only thing you owned - except for your underwear! Which is what a "cloak" means.        

          Being seen in your underwear is shameful for you. So why not publicly expose the shame which allows someone with wealth and privilege to take away the only thing a poor person owns by going naked! Give him your underwear. Let him explain why you are naked.” 

         Once again, even though you are a serf or a peasant, you have made your point.  You have retaliated, but not with violence. 

         Finally, Jesus ends with that troubling statement about walking the second mile. “Soldiers were allowed to conscript civilians to carry their packs, but only for a mile, (Ewart notes). However, this was no minor inconvenience for anyone who worked and fed his family day by day. Walking a mile with a heavy pack and then back again would mean missing that day's labor, and therefore that day's food for the family.

         Offering to go a second mile publicly exposes the unjust hardship of being forced to go even one mile, but does so in a way that seems to cooperate while at the same time brings shame and ridicule on the ones doing the forcing.”

         And for the third time, even though you are one of the least of these, you have made your point.  You have retaliated, but not with violence. 

         By now, it should be pretty clear what Jesus’ philosophy is.  No matter the extent to which we as Christians may try to justify violence and revenge, Jesus did not. 

         Jesus was non-violent.  Time and time again, we hear this personal stance reflected in his stories and parables.  In all four Gospels, we see the way he lived his life – right up to the moment the nails shattered the bones in his hands and feet and the cross was raised.  Jesus was non-violent, and that is the bottom line. 

         Did he ever get angry?  Sure he did. He overturned those tables in the temple during Holy Week.  But he was not seeking violent revenge.  I actually think Jesus would oppose those Stand Your Ground laws, especially when they lead to shooting a teenager when you thought he was playing his music too loud.

         Jesus was non-violent, and that is the bottom line. If we truly desire to follow him, then we need to, first and foremost, strive for and advocate for non-violent solutions as well. 

         In the end, Jesus says, love your enemies rather than just outlive them.  Even pray for them on occasion.  Be the child of the Holy One that God dreamed you could be. 

       Wow!  Love your enemies?  Pray for them?  Resort to collaboration rather than violence?  Is this all a bunch of naïve claptrap?  As Presbyterian pastor Jon Walton writes, “Jesus (must have) lived at some higher level of existence than we do. How else could he have come up with such an illogical set of suggestions for living?

       So we rationalize, “You have to forgive him. He got carried away sometimes. All compassion you know, all gushy about the goodness in people’s hearts, all soft in the middle about that little spark of God in everyone. We have to forgive him that. It doesn’t pan out in real life.”

         But maybe, if given a chance, carefully thought out non-violence does pan out in real life. Maybe it works.  I mean, in the end, it has to work.  At this point, humanity really has no choice.  After all, as Mahatma Gandhi understood:  “An eye for an eye will only make the whole world blind.”       

         In a sermon preached in 1957, Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr. wrote “Of course this is not practical; life is a matter of getting even, of hitting back, of dog eat dog… My friends, we have followed the so-called practical way for too long a time now, and it has led inexorably to deeper confusion and chaos. Time is cluttered with the wreckage of communities, which surrendered to hatred and violence. For the salvation of our nation and the salvation of mankind, we must follow another way.” 

         Our choice cannot be between violent retaliation and passive acceptance.  If we are Christians, then our starting point must be, first, that non-violence will work, and second, that it is up to us as followers of Jesus to put it in motion. 

         If you take away nothing else from this sermon, maybe taking to heart this two part shift in perspective is enough: Non-violence will work, and it is up to us – not our enemy – to put it in motion.

         Before you hurt someone as they have hurt you, before you slap, before you abuse, before you stab another in the back, before you kill with words, stop and ask yourself one question:  Why would a reasonable person act as he or she did? 

What might be an explanation?  Is there any common ground here?  As Steven Covey wisely wrote: Seek first to understand, then to be understood.  It needs to begin with us, not our enemies.

         You know, we talk a lot about our enemies – the ones out there, the ones trying to get the best of us, the ones we do not trust, the ones we will not forgive, the ones we hate.  But sometimes I wonder if the cartoonist Walt Kelly had it right all along when he put these words into the mouth of his character, Pogo:  “We have met the enemy, and he is us.” I think Jesus would say amen to that.

        

         

Matthew 5:21-37 "HeartSong"

         Valentine’s Day:  Maybe you bought a cute or funny card or incredibly romantic one for the person you love – be it spouse, partner, parent, or child.   Maybe you arranged to have flowers – a dozen red roses or a springtime bouquet - delivered.  Perhaps you celebrated the role of love in your life by going out for a candlelight dinner or by feasting on a special meal at home.  If you were really lucky, the one you love gave you delicious chocolate truffles – that is what Joe did. 

         But that was Valentine’s Day.  That was Friday.  This is Sunday, and today we are sitting here in church about to reflect on anger, adultery, divorce, and the swearing of oaths.  It hardly seems like an appropriate follow up to the Day of Love.

         Oh, that Jesus!  What was he thinking as we move ever more deeply into the Sermon on the Mount?  He said in the passage we read just last week that he had not come to do away with the Jewish laws handed down by Moses, but rather to fulfill them – whatever that means.  Beef them up a bit perhaps?  Make us inwardly squirm?

         After all, as we read this passage, it seems that he has become awfully nitpicky.  You see, Jesus covers in just a few verses a wide range of topics that are predestined to make us feel really uncomfortable: murder, anger, adultery, lust, divorce, swearing. 

         Though some people have thought that, in this passage, he is contradicting the Jewish laws, how could that be so?  After all, Jesus was a good Jew himself, and we have no evidence that he had any intention of being otherwise. 

         However, certainly what Jesus is saying is going to really rile up the temple Pharisees.  After all, he takes a bunch of straightforward and clear rules and challenges anyone who was listening (maybe even us?) to recalibrate those moral compasses.

         What is Jesus trying to do here? Is he attempting to “out-Pharisee” the Pharisees by showing us that we can never uphold all of the law’s demands?  After all, it was that group of religious elites who interpreted these rules and regulations in the first place with all their tedious and hairsplitting requirements.  Or is he telling us that we should be taking these laws far more seriously than we ever imagined we would have to? 

         Listen to what he is saying as he goes into his singsong “You have heard it said” countered with “But I say to you,” a cadence he uses for just about every single one of these topics. You have heard it said – don’t murder.  But I say to you – don’t even get angry.  You have heard it said – don’t commit adultery.  But I say to you – don’t even look at another man’s wife and fantasize what might be. 

         And that is only some of it!  There are his words about oaths – let your yes simply be yes and your no be no.  And, of course, he really stirs the pot in our times when he speaks about divorce.  And it is these words about that topic that, down through the centuries, have perhaps inflicted more pain and heaped up more guilt and burdened women and men alike with a greater sense of alienation than just about any other verses in the Bible.  What are we to make of this Jesus who speaks to us this morning?

         Methodist pastor William Willimon tells the story of a woman who came to a church he served. One day in a small group, people were telling their own stories of Jesus – testimonies in a way, I guess. One man said he was feeling confused about his life, but Jesus had helped him work things out. A woman said she felt Jesus near her when she sang in the choir.

         Then another woman started talking. She said, “Look, I don’t know what kind of Jesus you all met, but my life was going along just fine before he showed up. I wasn’t looking for anything.

         And now, now I’ve lost control of my whole life. I’ve been to Haiti twice to do mission work. I never wanted to go to Haiti. I think all the time about how I’m spending my time and my money. Before you go telling people they should be getting close to Jesus, you should warn them. He’ll mess things up.”

         And yes, the woman is right.  If we take it seriously, the Gospel message of Jesus will mess us up because Jesus is perfectly capable of turning our world and our lives upside down and inside out – but not in the way we might think – not by burdening us with the specter of microscopic legal infractions of laws we do not understand in the first place, but rather by freeing us to catch a glimpse of God’s dream and passion for the world. 

         In these troubling verses we just read, what if Jesus is inviting us to see the Jewish law as a doorway through which we might step to experience the Kingdom of God? Episcopal priest Roy Almquist puts it this way:  “I would challenge you to think about the law of God not in terms of doing a certain number of impossible things before breakfast, but in terms of being in the right relationship … with God and with those around us. It is not about your need to do the right thing, color within the lines, keep your nose clean; no, it is about loving your neighbor, controlling your anger, modifying your drives for personal fulfillment, all to the end that you might be an instrument for deepening and strengthening the community in which you live.”

         Jesus is asking us to take a good look at what is going on in our hearts.  He is making the point that our “heartsong” is what is important.  You see, it is in our hearts that the bonds between us and the rest of humanity as well as the bonds between the Holy One and us are forged.  What if this passage then is less about legalism and more about relationships, relationships that lie at the very foundation of community?

         As Episcopal priest David Sellery wrote, “Jesus is quick to tell us that he has not come to contradict the law. Rather he is here to give us a fresh perspective on God’s law... Instead of governing our lives by constant reference to an encyclopedic canon of regulations, he would have us look for God’s love in all things…In Christ, our focus shifts from the dos and don’ts, to actively witnessing his love, looking not only to the letter of the law, but to the spirit of the Lord. What would he do? What would he have us do?”

         This passage is about strengthening our relationship with God and with one another. As he deals with these tough topics, Jesus is reminding us that we do not live in isolation from each other.  There is always a neighbor.  There is always a “you” at the end of our thoughts.  There is always a “you” in our sphere of vision.  There is always a “you” at the conclusion of every action we take.

         And so, as Presbyterian pastor Mary Harris Todd reminds us, “The way we look at others truly matters, for behavior starts in the heart, in the way we regard the other person.  It’s not enough to refrain from murder.  Regarding others with contempt, scorning them, nursing anger against them, speaking of them using insulting terminology (we even call it ‘stabbing someone in the back’) is deadly serious in Jesus’ view…That is a “you,” a human being, a person, a neighbor you are speaking about.”

         What’s more, it’s not enough not to technically commit adultery.  That woman whose body you want to possess, that is a “you,” a human being, a person, a neighbor.”

         And, of course, Jesus also talks about divorce, and that has been such a stickler for so many of us: that somehow we are a flawed and failed human being if our marriage, flawed as it might have been, has failed.  So let’s take just a moment to better understand what Jesus had in mind when he spoke these verses about divorce. 

         In the patriarchal society in which Jesus lived, men had the upper hand, and it was exemplified perhaps best when it came to divorce.  As Mary Harris Todd explains, “If you think divorce is easy now, then it was a piece of cake, for men, anyway.  For just about any reason men could draw up a statement of divorce, sign it in the presence of witnesses, and that was it.  The ex-wife is out on the street.  Women, being considered property, had no possibility of divorce.  Too bad if your husband beats you.  You’re stuck.  ‘No!’ declared Jesus, ‘Women and wives are not objects!’”  You cannot put your wife out with the trash.

         I believe that, in the end, this passage is pointed at people who grow tired of being married, their lives too constrained with those little rug rats running around, who never (if they had given it an iota of serious thought) really intended to make the relationship work in the tough times. 

This passage is pointed at the deadbeats, the self-involved, the lazy, the ones who do not want to try, the ones who when push came to shove really were not looking for a relationship that would last for as long as we both shall live.  Is divorce wrong?  Jesus does not say that, but I think he does say that marriage is a very important matter of the heart.

         It is all about relationships, about how you interact with the other.  It is all about your “heartsong.”  One of the great dangers in being a Christian, you know, can be the inclination to get so caught up in keeping the letter of the law in order to keep your own nose clean in the apparent sight of God that you forget about your neighbor, the one you are called to serve.  And when you do, you do not hear your “heartsong.”

         Jesus’ teaching in these difficult verses is direct, to the point, and very, very challenging.  He calls us to reflect on our own lives, on our attitudes and value system, on what is going on in our own hearts.  And that is not easy.  Self-examination seldom is.  So what do we do with these hard words of Jesus?  Give up because we can never attain such an ideal? 

         No – rather than give up, let’s embrace these opportunities to glimpse the world as God dreams it can be, and let’s walk through the doorway of the Law.  Because if we do, there we will find that Jesus himself beckons us as he reorders the world and challenges us to break open our hearts and listen to our heartsong,

         And in the notes of that song, he assures us, we will find a new way of living, a kingdom so to speak, and a God who loves us, who has promised to embrace us and heal us even as we reach out to embrace and to heal those around us.

by Rev. Nancy Foran, Raymond Village Community Church (U.C.C.)

                  

Matthew 5:13-20 "On Salt, Light.....and Ketchup?"

         Come with me now to the Fitzgerald Theater in St. Paul, Minnesota, the home stage and studio of “A Prairie Home Companion.”  Deep into the weekly radio show, Garrison Keillor, the longtime host and writer, directs us to a public service announcement from the Ketchup Advisory Board:  “These are the good years, for Jim and Barb (it will begin). Except for the crushing depression of winter, and the terrible memories of childhood…”

         Now, if Garrison Keillor were to be responsible for the metaphors in the portion of the Sermon on the Mount that we just read, he probably would have chosen different ones. Actually, I think he would have chosen ketchup. 

         After all, as the script tells us each week, “ketchup contains natural mellowing agents that help people….relax and not be jerks…

“These are the good times”, (the concluding jingle begins)

“Life is flowing….Like ketchup on hot dogs….Ketchup, for the good times.”

        

         However, we all know that Garrison Keillor did not select the metaphors used in the Sermon on the Mount.  Jesus did – and Jesus did not choose ketchup - or mayo – or any processed food for that matter. 

         Jesus chose salt – and then he chose light – in order to express to his disciples just what it meant to be follow him and just what he expected of those who had made a commitment to live the dream and passion of God about which he preached and taught.

         And so Jesus, rather than saying “You are the ketchup on cheese curds” said instead: “You are the salt of the earth.”  “You are the light of the world.”

         Just as ketchup is a powerful metaphor for Jim and Barb on “A Prairie Home Companion”, so the phrases that Jesus chose were equally as powerful to Peter, Andrew, James, John, and the other disciples.  Let’s look at these metaphors a bit more closely.

         So, first off, then, why salt? After all, today we live with salt as close as the nearest shaker on the dining room table.  In fact, modern medicine tells us that most people consume too much salt and consequently are significantly more susceptible to cardiovascular disease, the leading cause of death worldwide, not to mention being at an increased risk for stroke, heart failure, osteoporosis, stomach cancer, and kidney disease. 

         On a more optimistic note, if you were to ask Mark Kulansky, author of the popular book entitled Salt:  A World History, he would tell you that salt has done no less than “shape civilization.”  Salt has influenced wars, cultures, governments, religions, societies, economies, cooking, and foods. 

         Salt has been a staple in human culture going back to the ancient Chinese, who gathered salt as early as 6000 years BCE, right up through Biblical times and beyond.  Trade routes were established in order to transport salt, and salt was even used as currency. 

         In Jesus’ time, Roman soldiers were sometimes paid in salt.  In fact, the Latin word for “salt” is the root of our English word “salary”.  It is also the origin of the expression “He’s worth his salt” or “He’s earning his salt.”

         No doubt about it, salt has a well-documented history as a precious commodity.  Equally well established is the fact that salt was used to flavor and preserve food.  People of means regularly sprinkled salt on their vegies and potatoes, and even the poor knew that rubbing meat with salt or curing it in a salt water brine would keep it from going bad. And, speaking of food, at great banquets, a distinction was made between those who sat above or below the salt on the table. 

         But not only that: Salt took on significant spiritual connotations as well. We know from Old Testament references that the Israelites covered their sacrifices in salt as a sign of the eternal nature and preservation of the covenant between God and God’s people.  Homer called salt a “divine substance” while Plato described it as especially near to the gods.

         Pretty impressive!  And yet, even with all this auspicious history of salt going back thousands of years, Jesus announced to the ragtag group of fishermen and “least of these” who became his first followers:  “You are the salt of the earth.”

         The same could be said for the metaphor of light. Now, it was not all that long ago that even we were dependent on natural light – the light from the sun.  Here in Maine, rural areas were not dependably electrified until the mid-1930’s.  When the sun went down, the workday was over. 

And candles rather than light bulbs once lit these very chandeliers here in our sanctuary.

         Now, during the ice storm in 1998, we lived in Cumberland and lost power for 4 days.  I do not know what it was like here in Raymond, but I learned then to what extent I relied on light – be it from a lamp or a computer screen or even an alarm clock. 

         In Jesus’ time, light had already taken on a spiritual significance as well. The prophet Isaiah used the image of light to offer hope to the Israelites exiled to Babylon. “Arise, shine, for your light has come” he proclaimed. 

         And remember the parable Jesus told about the bridesmaids who were not prepared because they did not have enough oil in their lamps to keep them lit and ward off the darkness? Likewise, the Apostle Paul drew on the image of light by referring to followers of Jesus as “children of the light.”  And the Gospel writer of John labels Jesus himself as the “Light of the World”. 

         Once again, awfully impressive!  And yet, identical to the image of salt, even with all this auspicious history of light going back thousands of years, Jesus said to the ragtag group of fishermen and “least of these” who became his first followers: “You are the light of the world.”

         Now, to really understand the significance of Jesus’ statements here, you must realize that these metaphors of salt and light directly follow the Beatitudes or blessings that we talked about last week.  The people that Jesus blessed – the poor in spirit, the meek, the peacemakers– these are the ones he is speaking to now. The ones in pain, the hurting ones, the gentle ones, the ones like us - these are the ones whom he proclaims as the salt of the earth and the light of the world. 

         These phrases are not demands to be something we are not.  Jesus is not telling us that we need to get something we do not yet have.  As Episcopal priest Michael Marsh reminds us, Jesus “does not say we should become salt. He says we already are salt. He does not say we are to become light. He says we already are light. We already are what we need to be. We already have all that we need.”

         Christian author Max Lucado puts it this way:  “This statement about salt and light is a reminder that whatever we are and whatever we do, as people of God, that's what the world gets… That's what the world gets to know about who God is.

         Collectively if we don't do what we're invited to do, what we're called to do, what we're made to do… it's not like there are a ton of others out there who are going to do it… You are what the world will know of God's reign… You are the salt of the earth and you are the light of the world.”

         That being said, these metaphors of salt and light are not for the faint of heart, to be sure, and they leave us with a fundamental question to answer.  Are we – you and I – ready to take on being the salt of the earth and the light of the world?  Will it be through us and because of our actions that the world will know of the reign of God? Will it be through us and because of our actions that the world will understand the reality of God’s love?

         Tough questions, but we have it in us, you know.  Jesus has declared it so in these verses tucked away in all this sermon material. We are the salt of the earth, he proclaims.  We are the light of the world.  God has put the finger on us and works through us – even in spite of ourselves sometimes.

         We are certainly called as individuals to be as salt and light, but we are also called as a faith community.  We are called as the church because being salt and light is what the church is all about, what this church should be all about. It is a high and worthy calling we are engaged in, you and I. 

         Presbyterian pastor Frederick Buechner puts it this way.  “Jesus calls us to show this truth forth, live this truth forth. Be the light of the world, he says. Where there are dark places, be the light especially there. Be the salt of the earth. Bring out the true flavor of what it is to be alive truly. Be truly alive. Be life-givers to others. 

         That is what Jesus tells the disciples to be. That is what Jesus tells his church, tells us, to be and do. Love each other. Heal the sick, he says. Raise the dead. Cleanse lepers. Cast out demons.

         That is what loving each other means. If the church is doing things like that, then it is being what Jesus told it to be. If it is not doing things like that - no matter how many other good and useful things it may be doing instead - then it is not being what Jesus told it to be. It is as simple as that.”  Be salt.  Be light.     

         Jesus tells us not to lose our flavor as we strive to be the salt of the earth.  Losing its saltiness is something that could happen to salt in Jesus’ day, you know.  Impurities invaded natural salt, and water could wash it away, diluting is effectiveness. 

         Perhaps Jesus then is reminding us that we too as the church will be urged in more ways than Sunday to blend in with our culture and to compromise our commitment to the Gospel.  Maintaining our saltiness is not easy in this day and age.  As I said, these labels of salt and light that we have taken on are not for anyone who is content to be a Sunday morning only sort of Christian.

         Jesus tells us also not to hide our light under a big old bushel basket. Obviously, the light is hidden then, and the surrounding area thrown into darkness.  Perhaps Jesus is reminding us that we too as the church need to be constantly asking ourselves whether his light - the light of Christ - is in fact shining through our ministries – or whether the four walls of this sanctuary are more like the big old bushel basket.

         "One night at the end of a special Saturday night worship service," writes Warren Hudson of Ontario, Canada, "a thunderstorm unleashed a bolt of lightning that plunged the church into darkness." With the congregation seated in total darkness, the pastor felt his way to the kitchen to find some candles. Everyone lit his or her candle just like on Christmas Eve, and then they all made their way through the church's winding hallways to the front door.

         "Peering out, we could see the rain coming down in sheets," Warren remembers. With traffic snarled, people were running for the nearest shelter. Looking around, they realized that the entire city was in darkness.

         "There in the darkness we stood," Warren writes, "a little band of Christians, each clutching a light, not sure whether to venture out into the storm or stay inside the church in hopes that the storm would soon blow over."

         There in the darkness, in this most dramatic way, he realized what it meant to be the "light of the world." Warren writes, "It occurred to me then that this is the temptation I face every day. It is easy to play it safe and be a good Christian in church. It is a lot harder to venture out in faith into the storms of the world."

         But Jesus is telling us: Venture out.  Be authentic.  Be true to who you as individuals and you as the church have been called to be. Be salt, and be light. Sound a bit overwhelming?

         Just remember that you – each one of you - is a precious commodity.  You – each one of you - is like a beacon in the darkness.  Live faithfully – each one of you - as a sign of God’s presence in this world.  Do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with your God.  Why?  Because you are a follower of Jesus and that is what you called to do.  Why?  Because you are the salt of the earth and the light of the world.

         I am going to play you a song from “Godspell” now, one that always comes to mind when I read this passage.

GODSPELL – YOU ARE THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD

         This past week I was reading about one man’s remembrances of a church performance of that Broadway musical.  Here is what he wrote:  “’You are the light of the world,’ we all sang as our Jesus went out into the audience. He grabbed someone and had him stand up so we could all sing to that particular one, ‘You are the salt of the earth.’ Then quickly to another person he dashed. He got her to stand up so we could point to her and sing, ‘You are the city of God.’

         “It was the last song before intermission,” he continued. “We left the sanctuary rocking (but only half as much as we did singing the beautiful refrain at the conclusion of the performance): ‘We can build a beautiful city, yes we can. Yes we can. We can build a beautiful city. Not a city of angels, but finally a city of man.’”

         Build a city?  A beautiful city that offers glimpses of the Kingdom of God?  Us?  Yes, YOU!  Because YOU are the salt of the earth.  YOU are the light of the world. 

by Rev. Nancy Foran, Raymond Village Community Church U.C.C.