Who are we?

Today’s teachings from Christ continue in his “Sermon on the Mount” and pick up where we left off last week after the beatitudes. 

Christ begins this discourse by talking about salt; an analogy which is somewhat lost on us, because of context.  Let me expound on that a bit:  when we go to the store and we buy a container of salt, it’s not raw salt simply mined from the earth and packaged for resale.  The salt we use has been processed and fortified.  It doesn’t go bad, loose its flavor, and its efficacy doesn’t decline.  This is much different than the salt of 2,000 years ago, which was simply mined from the earth and put to use.  It wasn’t processed, or fortified, or stored in cardboard or plastic containers to insulate it from losing its efficacy.  The analogy is still good today when we account for the necessity of salt, though, because salt does more than cause high blood pressure and swelling of the extremities; salt is absolutely necessary.  Our bodies need salt to function properly.  Salt is still a highly used preservative for foods.  And, let’s be real; it makes just about everything taste better.  But, whereas we rarely ever need to throw out salt because it has lost its taste or effectiveness, this was something the people of this time faced.  Once salt went bad, there was no way to refortify it.  It was simply thrown out. 

The light analogy, though is still contextually relevant in our day.  Light is one of those unchanging things.  We use light in the exact same way the people of Christ’s day used light.  At the most primary level, we need light to see.  When I wake up in the morning, the first thing I do is open the blinds on my windows, to allow the sun’s light to enter my house.  When I’m cooking, I turn on the lights above my stove so I can see what I’m doing.  When I’m reading, I turn on the lamp beside my chair (which, as I’ve gotten older, has contained stronger and stronger bulbs).  When Vicki gets here on Sunday mornings, (I assume) the first thing she does is turn on the lights (it could be start the coffee then turn on the lights, which per the laws of adulting would be acceptable as well).  We are people who are drawn to light; we are not people who are naturally drawn to darkness. 

Now that we’ve established what light is, we move into what Jesus says about light, which is WE are the light of the world.  Us.  You and me.  We are the thing that dispels darkness and illuminates the path.  We are what people are drawn to.  We are what people need.  Us.  You and me.  This isn’t only who we are, but it’s what we are tasked with.

A city built on a hill cannot be hid.  That one really struck me and hit home.  I lived in Tullahoma, TN for a while and have friends that are entrenched in preserving the history of that town.  I can remember reading letters from 100 years ago, correspondence between people outside of Tullahoma to people who lived there, and one of the central themes was being able to see the town at night because of two things:  whenever you travel to Tullahoma from one of the connected towns, you travel uphill, and Tullahoma has always been a well-illuminated town.  The letters would always comment on the brightness of the town.  Even now when I step outside of my house at night, when I look over I can see the glow of Tullahoma in the distance.  You can’t help but allow your eyes to be drawn to it and notice it.  That, too, is who we are.

With this light comes some responsibility…some heavy responsibility.  We are explicitly told that this light should never be hidden.  I take that as we should never hide who we are.  Sounds easy enough, right?  I mean, why would we hide who we are?  That’s easy enough…when things are going good, or our way.

The deeper responsibility here is we are a people called to be the light in the darkness when it isn’t easy. 

Have you ever denied Christ?  Why, sure you have; we all have.  Maybe you saw someone being bullied at school or in your work, or even some random place in public.  Did you speak up, or did you console yourself into doing nothing because “it’s none of your business”?  Have you ever witnessed someone cheating, or lying, or some other amoral act, and fail to move into action?  Have you ever passed by a homeless person, and offered them judgement instead of compassion?  What about incarcerated persons; do you derive joy from celebrating the manufactured justice we use to make ourselves feel better, or are you moved in ways of mercy? 

Being bearers of this light just became less fun, didn’t it….

 There is one thing I can promise you, and we all know it to be true, and it’s typically what stops us from being moved into our responsibility as the light bearers, and that is no good deed goes unpunished.  That phrase makes my skin crawl, because it’s a legit copout.  It gives us a reason to remain stationary, self-focused, and safe; because, generally, it’s true.  Gather twelve people together, and eleven of them are of one mind on a subject, and you know the view is wrong (I’m speaking objectively and not subjectively, but more on that in just a minute); perhaps they’re viewpoints are racist, or sexist, or some other thing, but you as the twelfth person, it’s up to you to stand up for justice.  It’s up to you to right this wrong.  It’s not just up to you, it’s your responsibility and what you are tasked with.  Do you do it?  Do you take the position you are called to?  Do you live into your calling, knowing the consequences that will befall you?  Because when you stand up and you do the right thing, not only will others see your light, but all the light in the world will be directed your way and there will be no hiding.

In this spirit, we need to be very cautious about our motives here.  Today you’re going to get two seminary words:  exegesis and eisegesis (they’re real words I promise).  One means true interpretation and the other means imposing interpretation…think reading in to something and reading flat.  I tend to use the terms subjective and objective because of my background in healthcare.  Subjective is the facts, objective is my view.  When we stand up and take our position as the city on the hill and we shine this light we bear, we need to be very sure that we are emulating Christ, and not glorifying ourselves and our viewpoints.  I’m not sure about you, but that makes my stomach flip.  We are urged by Christ toward the end of this discourse not to teach others to break the least of His commandments, and that’s exactly what I’m getting at.  I know people and am even related to people who believe racial segregation to be a good thing.  This past summer I found myself engaged, at a family get together, in a discussion about Heaven, and the person with whom I was conversing was passionately explaining to me that Heaven will be divided into neighborhoods and racially sorted appropriately.  I know people who would use their dying breaths to continue to justify why and how women are inferior to men.  These people are passionate about their mindset and they feel they are the ones standing up for what is right…but passion doesn’t translate to right and just.  We should be always ever mindful that the wisdom upon which we stand is truly the wisdom of God and not the foolishness of humankind. 

It’s up to you.  Does it do harm?  Does it do good?  Does it exemplify my love of God?  Deep down, we know the answers to these questions in everything that comes our way, in both our actions and our inaction.  Is the light you shine for all to see the true light, or is it your light?

And while we are the city on the hill with the light shining brightly out of us, I tend to think of that as an outward thing.  The world is looking at us, and watching us.  While this is very true, we should be reminded, also, that we are this very thing to each other within this church, at our schools and places of work, and in our families.  May we not forget that.  In the places we are most comfortable, around the people we aren’t possibly focused on impressing, we remain these light bearers, and we are watching each other.  That can be the hardest part of this journey.

I love the lectionary because it weaves scripture together in such a beautifully masterful way; last week we were alerted to some of the consequences of being these bearers of the true light.  You will be persecuted, people will revile you (which means they will criticize you in an abusive or angry manner), and the cost will be great.  Be reminded and hold steadfast to the promise that the reward in Heaven is greater than anything you and I could ever imagine.  Thanks be to God.