Salt and Light

Jesu Juva
St. Matthew 5:13-20
February 9, 2020
Epiphany 5A

Dear saints of Our Savior~

The sermon you are about to hear basically wrote itself. Sure, my fingers typed the words, and my voice is carrying those words into your ears; but everything else has been supplied by Jesus. He provided the colorful metaphors. He developed the relevant applications. He put the teeth into the Law and He put the comfort into the Gospel. It really, really made my job easy this week.

Maybe that’s because this sermon is a sermon . . . based on a sermon. I’m preaching today what somebody else has already preached. And that somebody was Jesus. Today’s text is from Matthew chapter five, which is smack-dab in the heart of what has come to be known as “the Sermon on the Mount.” It’s probably Jesus’ most famous sermon. I can hardly improve upon what Jesus has already proclaimed. So, if you don’t mind, in this sermon, I’m just going to take from Jesus and give to you.

Two majestic metaphors make up the heart of this sermon: You are the salt of the earth. And you are the light of the world.

You—dear baptized believer, faithful follower of Jesus—you are salt and you are light. What does this mean?

First of all, notice the present tense: You are salt; you are light. This isn’t a demand or a command to be something you’re not. It’s not an order to try harder. And it’s not that you should aspire to be salt and light. It’s what you already are through faith in Jesus Christ.

Jesus’ followers knew that salt was a valuable and useful substance. Salt seasons and preserves. And unless you’re eating one of those big, soft pretzels, salt usually does its work unnoticed and unseen. It blends in. And you don’t need much of it to make a big, big difference. A dash here, a pinch there. That’s you, my friends, the salt of the earth.

You’ve been shaken and scattered here and there to season the world with the good news of Jesus’ death and resurrection. You are the secret spice that makes this fallen world a better place—because you follow Jesus who died and rose again to redeem the whole world. On your head and heart you have received the sign of the holy cross, to mark you as one redeemed by Christ the crucified. For that reason you are destined to make a difference in this world. You are salt.

St. Paul knew what it meant to be the salt of the earth. He knew what his audiences wanted. They wanted either miraculous signs or impressive wisdom. But Paul gave them neither. He told the Corinthians, “For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ and Him crucified.” You can’t get more salty than that. You can’t season the world in a better way than to give the world Jesus Christ and Him crucified.

We should follow Paul’s salty example. Be careful of drawing attention to yourself. When you draw attention to yourself instead of to “Jesus Christ and Him crucified,” you are losing your saltiness. This is especially true here in the church. When pastors and personalities become the center of attention—when budgets and boards and programs and institutions are the main thing—then the church has lost her saltiness. The death and resurrection of Jesus have taken a back seat to something far less important. Don’t lose your God-given saltiness.

Not only are you salt; you are light—the light of the world. By virtue of your faith in Jesus Christ, you are a light shining in the darkness. Now, your light is like the light of the moon. Yours is a reflected light. It doesn’t originate in you; but you reflect Jesus who is the light of the world. You make a critical difference in how this world turns.

Now, unlike salt which is hidden, light is visible. Light is noticeable. It’s like the difference between one bright, sunshiny day after ten days of gray, cloudy skies. You can’t miss that kind of welcome light. The light you give the world is seen in your good works. Faith is known only to God. Only God can see faith in the heart of a sinner. But the world wants to see your works. In fact, the world needs your good works. That’s why Jesus says, “Let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.” Let your light shine. Let the good works fly—not so that you get the glory, but so that people see the light of Christ in you and give glory to your heavenly Father.

You let your light shine when you do the good works that God has called you to do. Don’t just be a dad—be an all-star dad—an all-star mom. Be the best brother—the best sister a sibling could hope for. Don’t just be an employee—be an excellent employee; not just a citizen—but a super citizen. Your good works matter so much.

Sometimes we forget about the importance of our works. We hear so much about faith alone, and grace alone and Christ alone. The most important teaching in the Christian faith is justification by grace, for Christ’s sake, through faith. There’s nothing about works in there. But don’t forget that all of that applies exclusively to your relationship with God (the vertical dimension of faith). It’s how you, a sinner, can be justified before God. And there, works have no role—none whatsoever.

But in the horizontal dimension of faith, good works are everything! Before other people, before family, before friends, neighbors, coworkers and classmates, let your good works shine. God doesn’t need your good works, but those people—they sure do. It’s faith alone before God; but it’s works alone before other people—because in those brightly shining good works others might just see a little more clearly your good and gracious Father in heaven who, in His Son, has reconciled the world to Himself, not counting their trespasses against them.

Your faith in Jesus Christ finds expression in the good works you do for others. You love others because you are loved in God’s beloved Son. You forgive others because all your sins have been forgiven in Christ. You have mercy on others because Jesus Christ has shown mercy to you, and laid down His life as a sacrifice for your sin. When we don’t love—when we don’t forgive—when we don’t serve and sacrifice for others—we are hiding our light under a basket. We are hiding what Christ is doing in us and through us. And that’s just plain stupid. Let your light shine.

All that you are and have is a gift from Jesus—who is God of God and light of light. Like you, Jesus had a job to do—a job no one else could ever do—one supremely good work. Jesus had to change the trajectory of the world—had to engineer a fourth-quarter comeback from twenty points down. If Jesus fumbled or failed, all would be lost, including you. For us and for our salvation He came down from heaven. For us and for our salvation He became man—was crucified, died and was buried. For us and for our salvation He lived a perfect life of obedience. His righteousness exceeded even that of the Scribes and Pharisees. He was the righteousness of God. He kept the Law of God perfectly—including every last iota.

And wonder of wonders, He gives away that perfect righteousness to you. He gives you the credit for what He did. He makes you the salt of the earth and the light of the world. It’s not by what you do; it’s by what He does—and still does—for you. As you eat and drink His body and blood, He puts His life into your life. You are baptized to live each day beneath the umbrella of God’s grace, through faith in Jesus. And in that grace, you will not fail.

Under that grace you can be the person you have been baptized to be—a person so valuable that God gave up His one and only Son to be crucified in your place, to save you from your sins. Be who you are in Christ. Live as the person you have been baptized to be. Let your light shine so that others can see the Savior and give glory to your Father in heaven.

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

In His Temple Now Behold Him

Jesu Juva
St. Luke 2:22-40
February 2, 2020
The Presentation of Our Lord

Dear Saints of Our Savior~

It’s rather interesting winter’s day today. For starters, today’s date forms a palindromic number. It’s 02022020. It works the same forwards and backwards—sleek and symmetrical. But even setting that fact aside, there’s also a very nice trifecta going on today: It is Groundhog Day (when a rodent in Pennsylvania predicts the weather). It is Super bowl Sunday (when clever commercials are aired). And, it is the Presentation of Our Lord (when Mary and Joseph carried their baby boy into His holy temple for the first time).

My guess is that two-thirds of that trifecta have been on your mind already this morning, while one-third (the part about the presentation of Jesus) hasn’t quite registered yet. But that’s also how it went down on that fateful day when the 40-day-old Jesus was

carried into the temple. Nobody cared. Nobody noticed. Nobody made a fuss. Only two senior citizens happened to be hanging out at the temple that day. Luther wrote: Is it not shocking that from more than twenty thousand men only Simeon should be present? The priests pocketed their [coins] and paid no more attention to the Child. Is it not shameful? Ought not half the town at least have come out to see the Lord of all the world? But only Simeon and Anna were there (ML Christmas Book, p.71).

It’s not much different today. The world will totally tune in for the prognostication of Punxatawney Phil. The world will totally tune in for football later today. But the world will little note nor long remember that today the Lord Jesus comes to love and serve His people in this holy temple and in others like it. The Lord of heaven and earth comes among us in His means of grace to bring faith and life and forgiveness—and only a few saints have eyes to see and ears to hear this wonderful reality.

Today is the Presentation of Our Lord. Why today? Because today we’re exactly forty days post-Christmas. On this day—the fortieth day—the Holy Family went up to the temple in Jerusalem to do what every pious Jewish couple did with every firstborn son: They presented Him to the Lord. And they offered a sacrifice, because every firstborn male was holy to the Lord—going all the way back to the Passover in Egypt. They had to be redeemed—had to be bought back, if you will—with the blood of sacrifice. By bringing their infant boy to the temple, Mary and Joseph were faithfully confessing that this little one belonged to God—even as they believed at some level that this little infant was God in human flesh.

But as the poor family from Bethlehem made their way through the temple courts, someone was watching and rejoicing. Simeon’s heart must have skipped a beat as the Holy Spirit revealed to him that this baby was the Messiah, the Christ. For Simeon had been told that he would not die until he had seen the Lord’s Christ.

How surprised Mary must have been when Simeon took the child in his arms and began praying: Lord, now lettest Thou thy servant depart in peace, according to Thy Word. For mine eyes have seen Thy salvation! Simeon’s eyes had now seen the Savior. His hands had held the Savior. Now he was ready to depart in peace—not ready to depart the temple and go home to watch the Super bowl, mind you—but ready to depart this life in peace.

You don’t often hear people saying things like that—that, in Christ, they are ready to depart this life in peace. Of course, I hear all of you singing those words quite regularly—right after receiving the Lord’s body and blood. I hear you singing Simeon’s song all the time—singing with faith that you have seen the Lord’s salvation—that you have tasted and seen that the Lord is good—that you are ready to depart in peace.

But Simeon does much more than prepare us for departure; he also preaches the cross. It’s the very first time the cross is alluded to in Luke’s gospel. Simeon says: Behold, this child is appointed for the fall and rising of many in Israel, and for a sign that is opposed (and a sword will pierce through your own soul also), so that thoughts from many hearts may be revealed. Jesus’ death and resurrection would mean the fall and rising of many in Israel—and in the whole world. You can’t be neutral toward this Child, even in the hidden humility of His infancy. He will either be your Savior and your life, or you will stumble over Him in unbelief and fall. Either He will bear your sins away, or your sins will remain on you—and define you and condemn you forever.

Simeon said that part of Jesus’ saving work would be “that thoughts from many hearts may be revealed.” Decades later, when Jesus would again visit His holy temple, the thoughts of the scribes and Pharisees would be revealed. In response to Jesus, they showed who they were (and whose they were). The thoughts of their hearts were revealed. And in their hearts they rejected Jesus. They had no use for a lowly, weak, beggarly Messiah.

It’s also true that when God deals with each of us in Jesus, the thoughts of our hearts are revealed. And that should make you deeply uncomfortable. The power and the pleasure we crave, our lust, our jealousies, our addictions and our idols, our refusals to forgive, the gossip and hate that we use like a sword to cut down and hurt those who stand in our way and try our patience. That and so much more of our sin is no secret. It is not hidden. It is all revealed. It is all known by God. If we cling to that sin and refuse to give it up, then there will only be falling for us—falling and judgment. But—if we are shown for what we are—if the thoughts of our hearts are revealed, and we come clean in repentance—then we receive the gifts of salvation, and we are raised up. Then we are raised by forgiveness—raised to new life in Christ.

When it comes to Jesus, there is either faith or unbelief. There is no middle ground—no neutral position when it comes to Him. You can’t refashion Him or reinvent Him or revise His message. You can’t claim Him as Savior while ignoring His words and staying complacent and comfortable in your sinning. You must receive Him as He is—the Savior of sinners—or you must reject Him in unbelief.

Jesus had His own falling and rising which He underwent for you—whatever the thoughts of your heart might be. He humbled Himself and became obedient to death—even death on a cross. That death on the cross was a sign—a sign of God’s love for you—a sign that your sins have been dealt with and paid for—a sign that God is for you and not against you—that nothing can separate you from His love. This Jesus is now risen from the dead. He lives and reigns to work all things for your eternal good. Jesus has been raised; and in Him you also will be raised.

If you believe that—if you desire that—then receive the Savior as dear Simeon once did. Simeon embraced the Savior who was a sign of his death and his salvation. And you can embrace the Savior as you receive Him in the Lord’s Supper. The very body and blood Simeon once held are here given to you under bread and wine. And in this meal is your rising—as you are joined even more closely to Jesus—to share in His life which lasts forever. And all this we confess every time we join to sing the song of Simeon: Lord, now you let your servant go in peace. In peace and joy I now depart.

Yes, it is a rather interesting winter’s day today. On this day Mary and Joseph held their Son and carried Him into His holy temple. On this day Simeon and Anna held and carried Jesus in their arms and proclaimed His redemption to Israel. And today, the Savior who was once held in humility—well, He’s now holding on to you. Jesus—your Brother and your Redeemer—He’s holding you in His arms before His Father. He’s presenting you to the Father, redeemed by His blood, and ready—ready to depart in peace.

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.