A Pervasive Presence

As soon as the Beatitudes are over, Jesus immediately gives the disciples two simple analogies about what it means to live this Kingdom Community life. The first is salt. The second is light.

13 “You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt should lose its taste, how can it be made salty?[b] It’s no longer good for anything but to be thrown out and trampled under people’s feet.

14 “You are the light of the world. A city situated on a hill cannot be hidden. 15 No one lights a lamp and puts it under a basket, but rather on a lampstand, and it gives light for all who are in the house. 16 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.

It’s a simply analogy, but I’ve often found it to be misinterpreted. Jesus is a good preacher. His illustrations hold up even two thousand years later. But the most common interpretation I’ve found of this, I think misses the point. The interpretation goes like this: Christians have to get out into the world. We get out of the saltshaker and into the world. Salt doesn’t do any good when its only surrounded by other salt. Salt is a preservative, but it has no preservative effects unless it comes into direct contact with the thing it is preserving. Salt is a flavor enhancer—but you don’t eat a forkful of vegetables and chase it with a spoonful of salt.

Salt is useless unless it is put to use. And so, we cannot just gather in the church and seclude ourselves from the secular community and avoid the world. When we retreat from the world, we lose our preserving effect.

And this is a good metaphor. It’s a wonderful analogy. By itself, it is a good illustration about our need to get into the world and be a force for change within it. But that is not quite the point Jesus is making. Jesus’s point is actually much more severe.

Jesus is not saying that we must become salt and light, he is saying that we are salt and light by nature. Through the regenerating work of the Holy Spirit, all of us have become so distinct from the world that we can work within the world as salt and light. There is as much difference between you and the world as there is light and darkness.

And if you do not manifest that, are you really salt? If salt is not useful, it gets dumped out. It was never salt in the first place. That’s the point. Salt, by its nature, preserves. Light, by its nature, illuminates and exposes. If you are not doing that, are you really salt and light? Are you really part of the kingdom community. The question that Jesus is asking is not “Are you unused salt?” but “Are you salt at all?”

Just as Jesus puts peace in the hands of the persecuted, he puts the responsibility of changing the culture on them as well. And it doesn’t seem fair. And it doesn’t seem right. But that’s because those in power will not change the system that put them there. Jesus is saying “I know you’re just a little salt. But that’s all it takes. I know you’re just a flicker of light. But one small flame can burn a forest.”

Jesus is saying that when we look at the world around us, it may not be our fault—but it’s our responsibility. And if we do not take responsibility—are we his followers at all? From the Beatitudes we see quite clearly that a kingdom community is one oriented toward justice and equality. To be salt, to be light, to be part of God’s kingdom community means to pursue justice, to pursue Jesus, at whatever cost.

When Jesus invokes salt, he takes a way higher view of it than we do. We have an abundance of salt. All different types of salt. And it’s cheap. Salt in the day of Jesus was a luxury. And one of its primary uses in the ancient world—and even in the modern world today—is that of a preservative. Salt dries food out. It draws water out of it and dehydrates it. Bacteria can’t grow where there is no water, so the food is preserved when it is packed in salt. Before refrigeration, this was the most common way of keeping meat fresh and edible.

When Jesus calls us salt of the earth, he is saying that we were meant to preserve the culture. In one sense, that simply means that the influence of even a small contingent of people within the kingdom of God can keep the world from rotting. When we are kingdom-minded and justice-minded, we will build communities that will flourish and have the favor of God.

Today, our empires—Christian and secular and the intermingling of the two—believe that they are blessed. God Bless America is an anthem played in churches and sports stadiums and in the halls of government, but God does not bless empires. God’s favor is not on empires. God’s favor is on those who live within his alternative kingdom community.

To have any preserving effect, we must be distinct and separate, yet totally mixed into the meat of the world. When we consider the issues of social justice, immigration, police violence, social programs, we must ask ourselves if our actions would the same as Jesus’s actions. Would he order drone strikes on foreign nations? Would he execute prisoners? Would he fire a weapon at fleeing suspect? Would he turn down the needy single mother? Would he imprison the refugee?

The issue, I’m afraid is not that we—as Christians—are too separate from the world, it’s the exact opposite. We are too much like it. It is clear what Jesus would do. And then we make the issue complicated and difficult. The salt has lost its saltiness. It is no longer distinct. And so it gets trampled. And then the nation is judged.

Second, salt enhances. Salt is flavorful. Humans love them their salt. Whole wars were fought over salt. We put it on our food and it makes our food taste better. One food website I read called it “the closest thing to a magic ingredient.”

Humans generally consume far more salt than is actually necessary and continue to enjoy salty foods even when physiological needs are met. Thus, it appears that salt preference rather than a true physiological need drives salt intake in human populations. We crave salt because we like it. It unequivocally makes things better. And especially these two things: it enhances sweetness and blocks bitterness.

Jesus is saying that not only do we need to sustain and preserve the culture, we should be enhancing it. We should be making it more palatable. People should want a healthy sprinkling of Christians in their life because of the enhancement we bring.

In the Psalms, David writes:

Taste and see that the Lord is good. How happy is the person who takes refuge in him! – Psa 34:8

The implication I get is that Christians are to give the nonbeliever just a taste of who God is. They may never go inside a church. They may never listen to a sermon. They may never pray. They may never consider even trying to discover who God is. But in your lives, give them a taste of it. Share with them the fruit of the Spirit—love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, and self-control.

Be enough of Jesus that when they see you and hear you and make friends with you that they feel compelled to know about the person of whom you are only a taste. Make the world a better place, somehow, someway.

The second analogy that Jesus gives is light. Jesus uses this metaphor of light to contrast with the metaphor of salt. Salt is hidden; you don’t see it at all. It just melts away into whatever it flavors or preserves. It works secretly to preserve from the inside, but light shines on the outside, and light is open and working visibly. In other words, salt is the influence of Christian character; it is quiet but powerful.

Light is the communication of the content of the Gospel. So there are two sides; on one hand, we live it, on the other hand, we preach it. On one hand, from the inside, we affect society’s thinking and living by the power of our lives. On the other hand, we turn on the light so that everyone can see the message we want to give.

It isn’t just in our words, but in our very overt, open godly conduct. We are not to be just a subtle influence like salt, but we are to be a very open and blatant influence like light. You see, salt can’t change corruption into incorruption. Salt can only slow or stop corruption. That’s only a negative function. Salt only holds back the corruption; we have to turn on the light of the Gospel to transform that corruption into incorruption.

Light exposes. Things can be hidden in darkness. It’s an obvious metaphor. You can’t see as well in the dark. Things get hidden the dark. Restaurants call it ambience and mood lighting, but I think they’re hiding the fact they haven’t dusted that windowsill since 1998. As light, we are to expose sin. Ephesians 5 says:

For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Live as children of light— 9 for the fruit of the light consists of all goodness, righteousness, and truth— 10 testing what is pleasing to the Lord. 11 Don’t participate in the fruitless works of darkness, but instead expose them.

Notice how Paul says we are to expose sin. With goodness, righteousness, and truth. We can’t use lies or mistruths to expose sin. You cannot make a good point with a fake story. I see things like this all the time on Facebook. Some news story goes viral, it’s not true, but people believe the sentiment. So even after the story is shown to be false, people still share it because they agree with the sentiment. We can’t expose sin that way.

Instead, we expose sin through our righteousness. We engage in acts of justice personally and demand better from our institutions corporately. We walk boldly into the places of darkness where injustice thrives and bring it out into the light.

Be salt, Jesus says. Be this pervasive influence. Be light, Jesus says. Call the darkness to account. That’s the life of someone living as part of God’s kingdom community. That’s the type of person on whom God has favor—those who are a pervasive, persistent, faithful presence of God’s kingdom within the empires of men.