Have you ever taken a bite of food and immediately knew something was up with it? The flavor is intense, it fills every taste bud in your mouth. You take a drink of water, try to swish or gargle, to do anything to wash it out, yet it holds on even still. There's only one thing you can think about: salt. It's undeniable. That bite, maybe the dish as a whole, has too much salt.
Salt is something undeniable when it's present. It can bring a dish together, or it could spoil the whole experience. It's rather interesting that we're called to be just that in Jesus' "Guidebook for Christian Living," the Sermon on the Mount. We’ve been called already to get our attitude right and our mindset refocused, and now we’re beginning to get into some advice for our daily walk. We’re hit with one last wake-up call and then given instruction as we jump back into the text in Verse 13 of Matthew chapter 5. You are the salt of the earth; but if the salt loses its flavor, how shall it be seasoned? It is then good for nothing but to be thrown out and trampled underfoot by men. You are the light of the world. A city that is set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do they light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a lampstand, and it gives light to all who are in the house. Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven.
Salt and Light are two very interesting images because they’re both Undeniable. Their nature is Apparent, Unmistakable, and Useful, and these are all traits that we as Christians Should aspire to have. There is also a caution presented in each statement. All this is well and good to recognize, but let's get down to the nitty-gritty, and really shine some light on this discussion, on what it really means to be salty. We should begin by asking ourselves what is it that we are supposed to be showing here? I believe most of us would find the notion of becoming some sort of human glow stick or food seasoning a bit off putting. We don’t glow like a lightning bug on our own, that was not a gift God gave us. What we are instead going to narrow our focus on is the concept of reputation. We often discredit the power of a good reputation in our modern society when it is easy or applicable to us. The “You Do You” mentality has swept us up, and we’ve scapegoated personal responsibility under the banner of freedom. Yet a good, upright reputation is a powerful tool in a Christian’s toolbelt. A reputation helps us set an example for our fellow Christians, gives us respect from those who aren't, and builds our standing in our communities. Our reputations can empower our evangelism and open doors for new opportunities for us going forward. What does a “Salty” reputation look like then? We don’t want to be off-putting, harsh, or difficult. Instead, there are some very specific attributes we should work to build into our reputation.
Being Salty means you are Apparent. We’ve all come across at some point or another a very similar situation to the one we opened up with. We didn’t need an explanation of what was happening, we knew it right away. No one had to sit long and hard to determine if, in fact, that sip of soup or bite of food was in fact a little over seasoned. No, it was immediately apparent, its nature becoming quite consuming in terms of what we remembered about that specific dish. When people look at us, our reputation should be immediate and consuming with our nature, and more importantly, God's nature. There should be no question as to who we are, and no difference between that and who we claim to be. Paul writes in Ephesians, beseeching the brethren there to "walk worthy of the calling with which you were called," (Ephesians 4:1). When people look at us, they should see a different calling. Are we walking around with our heads lowered, avoiding the gaze or people, and shrinking away from the world? Or are we giving people a smile, looking for opportunities to be compassionate, and standing out positively from the people around us? Are we allowing ourselves to blend in, or have we become a hilltop city who cannot hide if we wanted to? Being Salty Means Becoming Unmistakable. Opening the curtains in a dark room to unveil the daylight outside of a morning is a refreshing experience. That bright light makes it difficult to see much of anything else and makes itself known in an instant. Additionally, the darkness of that room is immediately broken once those curtains raise. Light and darkness cannot coexist, and cannot be confused for one another. Likewise, as Christians reflecting Godly light, we should be unmistakable. John reminds us that God is indeed light, and that means that in Him there is no darkness (1 John 1:5). If we are living to reflect that light, there should be no darkness in us either. That means using a scary word to describe ourselves: Blameless. It's a word that offers no wiggle room, there's no "You do You" in blamelessness. Yet in someone blameless, you can find no fault. Jesus would live up to this, with both Herod and Pilate at the end of His life finding no issue or crime in his record (Luke 23:4, 14-16). Even after the years of insults and abuse being hurled at Him, there was nothing that would stick. He was blameless and unmistakable.
Being Salty means being useful. We don't have to go far to make this point, as it is perhaps what Jesus spends the most time discussing directly. If salt loses its flavor, what use is it? Throw it out. What good is a lamp that's being covered up? Neither of these are fulfilling their purpose, and have lost their undeniability, so what good are they doing? Nothing, Jesus says. One thing Jesus seems to emphasize in His parables is the idea of faithful, effective servants. We can think about the parable of the talents, where those who increased their talents given to them by the master were blessed with more than they could earn, or we could look at the Unforgiving servant, who caused trouble and strife in the kingdom, and was thus thrown out (Matt. 25:14-29, Matt 18:21-35). But perhaps the most visible parable to describe the distinction is the parable of the Sheep and the goats. Both the sheep on the right hand and the goats on the left had some idea of this judge who had sorted them out, but only one side dedicated action because of their belief. The sheep were generous and were given to service to their brethren, unlike the goats, who did nothing. It wasn't that they were necessarily adding to the struggles of those around them, but they didn't make themselves useful (Matt 25:31-46).
How do we continue in this? Those are three fairly large asks, with almost impossible expectations. The short answer? Go. Do. Be willing to do the will of God. Take the opportunities. When we aren't living daily in a way that says, undeniably, "I am a Christian and I am not ashamed of showing it", how can our reputation not be blameless? If we are striving towards heavenly things, how can we not make ourselves useful here on earth? If we are loving those around us, how can anyone deny the things we set ourselves out to do? Being salty isn't about tasting good, it's about doing good. If we aren't being useful, there are consequences. That's what verse 13 way back in Matthew 5 implies. Jesus uses this "thrown out" language a lot in his parables, and most have a bit harsher meaning than simply being trampled under foot. If we recall back to a parable we alluded to earlier, the parable of the talents, the unprofitable servant is cast out "where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth" (Matt. 25:30). He is cast away from the presence of the master, and is left in a place full of pain and sorrow. Jesus wants effective servants. Jesus wants salty servants. We should not take this lightly. Structure your day around it. Ask yourself in the morning what you could do to "be salty," and then before you go to bed, check in with yourself. Did you "stay salty?" Did you walk worthy of your calling? Did you walk with purpose, apparent and unmistakable? Try to do better each day at it, constantly striving towards heavenly things (which we'll touch on more in the next chapter). Stay salty, my friends. Photo by Jason Tuinstra on Unsplash
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