"Be who you are" Sermon for Sunday 5 February 2017

Sermon for Sunday 5 February 2017

5 Epiphany

"Be who you are"

Lutheran Church of the Redeemer, Jerusalem

The Rev Carrie Ballenger Smith

Matthew 5:13-20

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

Cross leaning against the church of the Holy Sepulcher
Graffiti reading "Be who you are"
29 January 2017
Photo by Carrie Smith

Last week we had dinner with some friends we hadn’t seen for a while, and as usual the conversation turned to talking about our kids. How’s school, how old are they now, oh my goodness how can they be ready for college, etc. At one point, our friend said to us, “Well, I know that you just want them to be all that they can be.”

At which point Robert and I laughed out loud, to the dismay of our friends, who were just trying to be nice. These friends are not from the US, so they couldn’t know that when Americans of a certain age hear this phrase, it automatically comes with a tune. That’s because all throughout the 80’s and 90’s, the slogan for the United States Army was: “Be all that you can be, in the Army!” It showed up on posters in our high schools and played repeatedly on television, before the evening news or even in between our Saturday morning cartoons.

It was an extremely effective marketing campaign, and not only because of that catchy tune. “Be all that you can be” tapped into a human desire to be and to do more. It spoke to the belief—perhaps a typically American belief—that life is about achieving, progressing, and becoming. For this reason, motivational speakers are fond of saying things like, “If you’re standing still, you’re already falling behind!” It is in this spirit that the US Army promised to help you tap your inner potential—to be all that you can be, rather than whatever it is you are now—by flying planes, driving tanks, and “seeing the world” as a soldier.

This idea that life is about aspiring to do or become something else also affects how we read and interpret the words of Scripture. This morning’s Gospel reading from the 5^th chapter of Matthew is a good example. Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount continues this week with these very familiar words:

“You are the salt of the earth; but if salt has lost its taste, how can its saltiness be restored?

AND

You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hidden."

These are some of the most famous phrases in the most famous sermon ever preached, and still most of the time we misquote it or at least misremember it. 

“You are the salt of the earth” becomes in our minds, “You should become salt!” 

"You are the light of the world” becomes “You need to be the light!”

But in fact, Jesus does not tell the disciples that they have the potential to maybe, one day, be salt and light, if they try hard enough. He proclaims to them: You are salt. You are light. Right now! This minute! You don’t need to join anything, study anything, do anything, or buy anything to “be all that you can be.”

“All that you can be” has already happened.

Your life has mattered since you were in your mother’s womb.

Your sins have been forgiven since the day Jesus went to the cross.

You have been born anew since the day you were washed in the water.

And you have been salt and light since the day Jesus called you by name and invited you to join in his Gospel mission with all the other disciples.

This is one instance when I’d like to re-purpose an old car bumper sticker I used to see in Oklahoma. It proclaimed something like: “Jesus said it, I believe it, that settles it!” Amen!

Jesus says: You are salt. You are light. Of course, this runs counter to our inner dialogues and opinions about ourselves and our value. If Jesus came to church this morning and said “You, Redeemer Lutheran, are the salt of the earth!” we’d probably wonder if we are really the best salt we could be. Maybe we should really be ethically harvested, organic, fair trade, artisanal sea salt. Or at least kosher salt, since we’re in Jerusalem. Or should we be Dead Sea salt? In any case, surely regular table salt is not enough.

But again, Jesus doesn’t love you for your potential. Jesus didn’t die for the person he thought you might become. Jesus went to the cross for a broken world. He died for the you you are now – messed up. Imperfect. Doubtful and dubious.

And he has called the you you are now. You are salt and you are light, not because you are so special, but because Jesus is! You are a disciple, essential to the mission of the church, because he has called you here. It is his love that flavors all that you do. It is the light of his resurrection that illumines all that you do.

The famous Lutheran pastor and theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote about this in his own sermon about the Sermon on the Mount:

“You are the salt—not: You should be the salt! It is not for the disciples to decide whether they are or are not to be salt. Nor is any appeal made to them to become the salt of the earth. They are that salt, whether they want to be or not, in the power of the call they have encountered.

The same one who says of himself in direct speech: “I am the light,” says to his disciples in direct speech: You are the light in your entire lives insofar as you abide in my call. And because you are the light, you can no longer remain hidden, whether you want this or not…”

Hear again this Good News: we do not need to become salt or light, because Christ has already done that work in us through the power of the cross and the resurrection.

Now, with that being said, sometimes we do need to remember the nature of salt and light. What are salt and light for?

Jesus said, “If salt has lost its flavor, what good is it? And no one puts a light under a basket, but sets it up high, so it can brighten the room.”

In other words, salt and light are agents of change.

You are salt. And what does this mean? Salt changes flavor. Salt preserves meat, changing it so it won’t spoil. Salt reacts with other ingredients and makes bread and cakes and all sorts of delicious things, changing plain flour, eggs, and butter into lifegiving food!

You are light. And what does this mean? Light changes night into day. Light warms and comforts. Light reveals things unseen. Light leads the way down paths untrodden and ventures of which we cannot see the ending.

Salt and light have the power to change things.

Which means: As disciples, we too are change agents.

Followers of Jesus bring mercy and forgiveness to a world of judgment and fear.

Followers of Jesus bring a commitment to justice and peace to a world that worships power over others.

Followers of Jesus bring concern for the poor, the hungry, the homeless, refugees, and strangers, to a world which is all about self-protection and self-concern.

Followers of Jesus bring the audacity and the boldness of speaking truth to power when necessary—even if it means, as it did for Jesus, walking the way of the cross and suffering for the sake of our friends.

Called by him and empowered by his love, we who have been called salt and light have the power to change the situation, to change lives, even to change the world.

Not long ago, I paid a visit to a church member, who always makes me coffee when I come around. Now this woman does not drink anything in her coffee, and I think she considers it a sign of personal weakness that I take both sugar and milk in mine.

Still, she always graciously sets out a bowl of sugar just for me.

On this occasion, I took a large spoonful of sugar and stirred it into my coffee. Then I took a drink.

Coffee at Shakespeare & Co, Paris
January 2017
Photo by Carrie Smith

And of course, I discovered that the bowl of sugar was really a bowl of salt.

It was all I could do not to spit it out onto this church member’s delicate lace tablecloth! A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down, but a spoonful of salt makes it difficult to keep the coffee down.

I was remembering this experience—tasting again the salty coffee in my mouth—as I considered what it means for disciples of Jesus to express our saltiness in the world today.

And I thought: Yes, salt is an essential ingredient in baking cakes.

Yes, salt preserves meat and other useful things.

But salt also gets your attention, especially when it shows up where you least expect it.

So, I would like to suggest that as disciples of Jesus, as the church, when we come together in our saltiness...

We are the salt in racism’s coffee.

Together, we are the heaping spoonful of salt in xenophobia’s vanilla milkshake.

Together, we are the entire cup of salt poured into the occupation’s lemonade.

Together, we are the kilo of salt dumped into whatever they’re serving in the halls of power as they plan the next war.

And why not? This is what salt does! It changes things.

The first reading this morning, from Isaiah 58, began with the prophet Isaiah’s words:

“Shout out, do not hold back! Lift up your voice like a trumpet!”

And in the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus is telling us:

Listen up: You are already salt! So don’t be afraid to flavor some stuff!

You are already light! Don’t be afraid to disrupt the night with your brightness!

"A city built on a hill cannot be hid. 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. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.”

Dear friends in Christ, you don’t need to "Be all that you can be.” Just be who Jesus says you are:

Be salt. Be light. Be peacemakers. Be troublemakers!

Be who you are, that the world may see your good works, that your neighbor may know welcome, that the oppressed may be set free, that the hungry may be fed, and that all may know the love of God in Christ Jesus. Amen.