A frequent topic of conversation between me and our office assistant is the latest generation, known as Gen Z. Now I am not in regular contact with individual members of this generation, at least in real life, but I do regard myself as a student of their use of the English language.
Whatever else one may say of this generation, one thing is sure. They have mastered the art of slang.
One of the entries I found recently in The Gen Z Dictionary, first edition, is the word “salty.” Can you guess what it means? My guess is that most of you probably can’t, unless you too happen to be students of Gen Z slang. It means “bitter and angry.” The example that accompanies the entry is: “you’re just salty because your friends went to the movies without you.”
Now when Jesus turns to his disciples today and says: “you are the salt of the earth,” he does not mean thereby that they are bitter and angry. Even though they are reviled and persecuted in the world on account of Jesus’ name, and therefore have good reasons to be, they are not. They do not turn away from the world that maligns and mistreats them. Instead, they turn to the same world that rejects them to bless and to serve.
Let us make a preliminary observation here: This really is gospel or good news. When Jesus declares his disciples to be “salt” and later “light” he is telling them, in effect, that they are of use to this world.
It is clear that a major factor in the mental health crisis we are facing in the Western world today is a lack of purpose, which is so widespread, especially among young people. Popular YouTube influencer Cole Hastings calls Gen Z the first generation with no purpose.
Human beings do not thrive without a sense of purpose. We have a deep-rooted need to be of use in a meaningful project that is bigger than we are, that goes beyond mere self-interest. Indeed, this need seems so basic that when people are continually frustrated in their search for purpose, they become hopeless and even suicidal.
This suggests an even stronger, if more disturbing, claim, namely, that human beings cannot even survive without a sense of purpose.
This is exactly the subject of author Viktor Frankl’s famous book Man’s Search for Meaning. An inmate himself in the Nazi death camps during the Second World War, Frankl was curious to learn why some inmates survived the ordeal, while others perished.
He found that those who clung to the sense that their lives had meaning and purpose, despite the horrific conditions in the camps, survived at a higher rate than those who succumbed to the conditions in hopelessness and apathy. Frankl often quoted the philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche’s insight that “he who has a why to live can bear almost any how.”
Author Dale Bruner notes that the deepest desire of Christians, after faithfulness to God, is to be used by Jesus to help others. We have already said that we have a basic desire to be part of a project bigger than ourselves. Indeed, Jesus’ project is cosmic in proportions, embracing the whole earth.
Jesus satisfies this deepest desire. He assures the disciples that they are going to be used by God to help people, on the widest possible scale, when he tells them that they are the very salt of the earth, and the very light of the world.
Life acquires meaning when we discover that it has a purpose, which is by no means self-evident, especially to so many young people today. This purpose lies in placing our lives at the service of the kingdom that enters into the world with Jesus. That life has a purpose is good news.
Would we begin to see a decline in the numbers of people with debilitating anxiety and depression, in the numbers of suicides today, if more and more discovered that following Jesus gives purpose to life? Not a popular message, to be sure. But one nevertheless true.
Let us make another preliminary observation here. Note the grammatical form of these statements. Jesus does not say “you must be the salt of the earth” and “you must be the light of the world.” Instead, he says you are salt and light.
In the Christian life there is an order that must be followed. There is a “first” and then a “second” in an irreversible sequence. Jesus tells the disciples who they are before he tells them what to do. He imparts blessings to them, before he imposes commands on them. He does something in them, before he does something with them. God makes the tree good before it produces good fruit.
The Christian ethic is “become what you are” and not “become what you should be.” The theology that undergirds this ethic is that “grace” precedes “good works.”
The author of the Letter to the Ephesians sums it up in these words:
“For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— not by works, so that no one can boast. For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do” (Eph. 2:8-10).
“You are the salt of the earth.” At first glance, it doesn’t seem that Jesus is saying too much here, until we pause to consider the manifold uses of salt—both in the ancient world and in our own.
Perhaps most obvious to us is that salt seasons. It makes the flavor of food come alive. Can that which is unsavory be eaten without salt? Or is there any taste in the white of an egg? (Job 6:6). The answer is no.
Jesus is suggesting here that the life of a disciple has a zest, a tang, a flavor. How many lives are bland? And yet Jesus says that the lives of the disciples are different. “Let your speech be gracious, seasoned with salt,” the Apostle Paul tells the Colossians. The speech of Christians is to be attractive and engaging, not dull and boring.
But salt also preserves. In ancient Israel, salt was a symbol of the imperishable. In the Old Testament, sacrifices to the Lord were to be a statute forever, a covenant of salt before the Lord. (Numbers 18:19). King David received his kingdom forever from the Lord by a covenant of salt (2 Chronicles 13: 5).
Each Sabbath, the Jews today still remember the covenant by the ceremonial dipping of bread in salt. Salt is the symbol of the imperishable; in salt, there is seen the permanence of the covenant relationship between God and God’s people.
Not only for Israel did salt have this symbolic value. For the ancient Romans salt symbolized the binding of an agreement, the cementing of a friendship. In fact, the absence of a saltshaker on a banquet table would have been interpreted as an unfriendly act and reason for suspicion.
Salt also heals. In 2 Kings 2:19-22, the people of Jericho complained to the prophet Elisha about the city’s water supply. The water was bad, and the land was unfruitful. Elisha then took a bowl, put some salt in it, went to the spring, and dumped the salt in it. Elisha then said: “Thus says the Lord, I have now made this water wholesome, neither death nor miscarriage will come from it.”
Throughout the ancient world, salt was used in the production of fish sauce, called garum. It was thought to have healing powers. It was used as a medicine for digestive disorders, for sores, for which salt has recognized healing powers. But it was also prescribed for a wider range of ailments, including sciatica, tuberculosis, and migraines.
But all this is only scratching the surface. In fact, the modern salt industry has identified more than 14,000 uses for salt. We can easily understand why salt became one of the first international commodities of trade. Salt production was one of the first industries, and inevitably the first state monopoly.
“You are the salt of the earth.” We can see now how important Jesus’ disciples are to the earth.
The point is that they are salt for the sake of the earth. Jesus’ disciples are not inward-looking, hermetically sealed from the world. If we are his disciples, we must be pouring ourselves out on this earth, like salt from a saltshaker.
To be useful and true salt, we have to mix with the people of this world, bringing to them the savor of the gospel. We are concerned about arresting the social decay around us. We are concerned to add flavor to lives that have become dull and bland. That is why we show compassion for the poor. That is why we have fellowship hour and church outings. Failing these things, we become worthless, only to be thrown out and trodden underfoot.
“You are the light of the world.” Jesus shifts the metaphor. But just as salt, so light also is central to who we are, if we are Jesus’ disciples. Light illuminates and guides and warms. It also is necessary for life.
From Advent to Epiphany we have learned that Christ is the light. John the Baptist came to testify concerning the light. Later Jesus will say of himself: “I am the light of the world. The one who follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life” (John 8:12).
The light of the disciples is a reflected light, but it is light that light ups the whole world. That is the purpose of their light.
“No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house.”
Escape into the invisible is a denial of discipleship. The church is a visible community, there for all the world to see. It does not exist for its own sake, but for the sake of the world. Again, the church is outward focused.
Jesus guarantees the integrity of his own teaching. He is not one who says: “do as I say, and not as I do.” If he were, he would have no credibility, and his teaching could be dismissed. That is why he mentions that he will fulfill the law and the prophets. He is not one who only hears the word, but is one who does what it says. He demands the same from his disciples.
“Whoever breaks one of the least of these commandments, and teaches others to do the same, will be called least in the kingdom of heaven; but whoever does them and teaches them will be called great in the kingdom of heaven.”
If we are his disciples, have we realized that we are salt, that we are light? Having considered how salt and light works, we cannot say there is clear evidence that God’s people have become what they already are.
How then do we become what we are? How do we live out of the identity that Jesus has bestowed on us as his disciples?
Eugene Peterson was a beloved Presbyterian pastor and author. At the end of his life, someone approached him and asked this question: “If you knew the next sermon you were going to preach would be your last, what would you say?”
Peterson thoughtfully stroked his beard for a moment, and then replied: “I think I would want to talk about things that are immediate and ordinary. In the kind of world we live in, the primary way that I can get people to be aware of God is to say, ‘Who are you going to have breakfast with tomorrow, and how are you going to treat that person?’”
Here is an image of a disciple in the world. He is one not only in church, but in his normal, daily routines. The disciples of Jesus carry out these routines attentively and mindfully, present and helpful to people around them, in ways that give glory to the Father in heaven.
Peterson continued: “In my last sermon, I guess I’d want to say, ‘Go home and be good to your spouse. Treat your children with respect. Do a good job at work.”
Dear friends, we are salt and light in the real world, and that involves genuinely being with real people, listening to them and engaging with them, and above all treating them in accord with the dignity they have as fellow image-bearers of God.
Then they will be led to give glory to our Father in heaven. And who knows? They may even be drawn to be disciples with us. Amen.