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.