When Jesus says it, it sounds so matter of fact: You are the salt of the earth. You are the light of the world.

Preachers around the globe are trying to unpack these metaphors in creative new ways this very day. What does Jesus really mean when he tells his disciples they are salt and light? (And how does that relate to what comes after – about fulfilling the law and the prophets?) You know me well enough to know that I don’t have many definitive answers but I do love a good metaphor, so hang on.

Salt is an earthy mineral with many uses. Jesus comments on – flavor: if salt loses its taste it is not good for anything. I am sure the chemists here will correct me, but I think the only real way salt can lose its flavor is to be diluted to such a level that it is unnoticeable. And what we don’t notice, we easily walk right over, trample underfoot. So maybe what Jesus is saying is we can’t let ourselves, our faith, become diluted, watered down.

Mennonites of a certain stripe, from which I am descended, were committed to non-conformity, which meant they did not blend in, did not let themselves become diluted. My dear grandparents dressed in the cape dress and the plain coat. Did they hope that their clothes pointed to their saltiness? Was it helpful or a hindrance when interacting with people in regular clothes who may have wanted and needed the flavor of supportive, Christian community? Yes, salt must keep its essence but if it stays in the container and does not get in the soup, so to speak, what good is it? It is a delicate balance between staying centered and salty, – and sprinkling our God given flavor around. Maybe clothes don’t even have anything to do with it.

Salt is also an ancient preservative. The Jewish story is one of captivity, scattering, and many only have a distant hope of returning to the homeland. Yet, Richard Swanson says, when “they remembered (even without knowing it) the basic moral practices of Torah… they were a preserving force in the world. When Jesus addresses his audience as “the salt of the earth,” he is reminding them that Torah observance is not just a “religious thing,” not a set of odd Jewish practices involving seafood and pork and other foods – that many non-Jews have no trouble with. Torah observance is good for the world. It makes communities gentler and more orderly.” https://provokingthegospel.wordpress.com/2017/01/30/a-provocation-the-fifth-sunday-after-the-epiphany-the-second-sunday-after-the-travel-ban-february-5-2017-matthew-513-20/  As post-modern members of Jesus’ audience, what might we say about our religious observances? What are we preserving? Is the way we practice our faith good for the world, making communities gentler and more orderly?

In our time and place, salt is a melting agent. At the slightest hint of “wintry mix,” the salt trucks start up to save us all from the dangers of ice and snow on the roads. We are the salt of the earth?  Do we spread ourselves – on cold and icy hearts to melt indifference, complacency and fear? Perhaps Jesus is thinking of the prophet Isaiah’s instructions:

Remove the chains of injustice!
Undo the ropes of the yoke!
Let those who are oppressed go free,
And break every yoke you encounter!

That is some powerful salt, to melt the chains of injustice, and cut through the rope. Does salt really have that kind of power? Salty tears might melt hard hearts and salt can corrode chains but not from a distance. If we really hear Isaiah we have to bring our salt close to where it is truly needed, even as Isaiah says, to the needs of our own flesh and blood!

We are salt of the earth; we are flavorful, preservatives, that can bring change. Enough with salt. I will let you keep spinning the metaphor out.

What about light? You are the light of the world.

As a child one of my favorite Sunday School songs  was, “This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine.” My favorite verse was always “Hide it under a bushel, no! I’m gonna let it shine.”

While I loved that verse as a child, I am still learning what it means to let your light shine without hiding it. As a faith tradition descended from the “quiet in the land,” we can be hesitant to shine our lights. We wouldn’t want to be boastful and draw attention to ourselves, even if this congregation is an amazing group of seriously smart, creative, hospitable and dedicated Jesus followers who work for justice, make great food and cry and laugh and rage well together. We don’t hide our light exactly but do we set it on a lamp stand so it gives light to the whole area? Do we shine our light brightly enough that people who need a community of healing, like this one, can find us?

Yesterday there was a memorial service here, for a friend from the community. He was an immigrant from Russia and while his Russian friends lobbied for the service to be held at the Orthodox church, his family chose this space. This sanctuary was full with people from all over the world, from a number of different religions (and a few professed atheists.) The family requested that we gather in the Quaker style of meeting for worship, beginning in silence, holding each other in the light. Many who came to remember Serguei remarked on the light and peace they experienced in this space.

Afterward, we all did a very unusual thing, unusual for Mennonites that is. The Wild Anacostias, a local New Orleans style band, played a “second line.” We all walked behind the band as they lead us to the end of the cul-de-sac and back to the church parking lot. Neighbors on the street came out of their homes to see what was going on – 170 people walking and singing behind a 10 piece band. Even in our grief, there was a lot of light shining as we filed out of the church and down the street.

Looking back over the past year, our light as a congregation shines most brightly in the local community in times of tragedy. We hosted the t-shirt memorial, a makeshift cemetery remembering and naming those from the DMV who were killed by gun violence in the past year. We held a community vigil to remember those who were killed in the Pulse nightclub shooting. Yesterday a parade walked right out of the church after a funeral.

Perhaps this is how it should be, that we are shining a light of presence in times of deep loss and grief. When there is darkness, we need the light, the mysterious light that shines in all times and in all places. And who better to shine this light than those who profess to follow the mysterious Christ.

You are the light of the world. And sometimes, in these days, darkness feels very present. There is fear and deep uncertainty in targeted communities, turmoil and discontent among voters, accusations, alternative facts, anger, ridicule – it can feel like there is more darkness than light. Like we are living in intense shadows.

My dear friends, the people who walked in darkness have seen a great light. Upon them the light shines. If our Friends, the Quakers, are to be believed, we each have that of God in us, the light of God. Here, in these shadow days, this is not the time to be humble and hide our light under a bushel, no! Most of us here have privilege that many others do not have. Let us shine the light.

This doesn’t mean we have to shine alone, we shine together. Think of the many faith communities along the 16th Street corridor that periodically organize to have candlelight, flashlights, all kind of lights, all along the street that leads to and from the White House. Think of the spontaneous marches, and dance parties and rallies and welcome signs at airports. Think of the people calling and emailing and faxing their congresspeople. Light is shining and when we gather our small lights together, we shine brightly.

Isaiah tells us that the people thought they were doing what God wanted, shining their light on the law, every letter of the law. Yet they missed the point. If we really want to see the light, Isaiah says:

Share your bread with those who are hungry,
And shelter people who are homeless!
Clothe those who are naked,
And don’t hide from the needs of your own flesh and blood!
Do this and your light will shine like the dawn –
And your healing will break forth like lightning!

My dear friends, the world needs more light right now. Here in this place, new light is streaming. Let’s share that light with others who are eager to find community and joy and acceptance and mutuality and challenge and forgiveness and beauty and healing and love and peace and more light.

You are the salt of the earth. You are the light of the world. Our light shines strongest when we shine together. Let’s let our light shine.