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 Passing the Salt |
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1 October 2006 Last week when Colby invited us to our first Open and Affirming meeting on 5 November, he began by telling us that his announcement was brought to us by the letter ‘N’. As in salt ‘N’ pepper. Today’s sermon is brought to us by ‘salt.’ Salt. Consider. What is it that we add when we salt our food? Once salt is added to the stew or the cake or any other item of food, it is impossible to locate; it simply flavors the whole. But it’s still an identifiable flavor. A flavor so basic to our palate that four separate regions of the tongue are especially sensitive to its taste. Incidentally, that’s a higher percentage of designated taste buds than any other region. We know, of course, that salt is essential for all animals–including humans. It enables our nerves to function; it controls taste and smell and touch. Salt is essential for the contraction of muscles, including the heart; it’s equally essential in relaying signals to and from the brain. In short, we can’t live without it. And our bodies do not manufacture it. The people of Jesus’ time didn’t know any of these scientific intricacies of salt and health. But they knew that salt was important. The elite Roman soldiers who drew special duty to guard the Via Salaria, the Salt Road between Rome and Ostia received some of the pay in salt. The word itself shares the same root as ‘salary.’ Salt. Salary. In Greece, slaves and salt were interchangeable. If a slave failed to work up to an owner’s expectations, the slave wasn’t ‘worth his salt.’ Because we no longer are as conscious of how vital a commodity salt is, we can be oblivious to its impact on us. An impact not unlike an equally ubiquitous presence: advertising. A market researcher stops shoppers in the grocery store after they pick up their bread. After one shopper picks up a loaf of Wonder Bread, the researcher asks if he will answer a couple of questions about his choice. The shopper agrees, and the researcher asks, “Has your choice of Wonder Bread been influenced by advertising?” The shopper is shocked. “Of course not! I make my choices based on what I like!” The researcher asks a second question. “Then why did you select Wonder Bread?” You all know the reason. The shopper responds, “Because it builds strong bodies eight ways.” Like salt, advertising can so thoroughly integrate itself into our system that we are unaware of its presence. All the same, it still makes its presence felt; it makes a difference. And that’s exactly what’s expected of Jesus’ disciples. Jesus’ followers are expected to make a difference. Not just a difference on the scale of preferring blue over orange, but a vital difference. A difference that is as fundamental to life as air and water. And salt. The difference we find in our reading includes gracious hospitality–the extravagant hospitality we hear of in the StillSpeaking initiative has sound scriptural foundations! This may seem like a simple expression of pleasant social graces. Asking a guest if they would like something cool to drink on a warm day, something hot to drink on a cool day. But the extravagant hospitality of discipleship moves beyond social amenities to extend to the last, the lost, the least. It fills canteens of cool water and carries them to people threatened by death in the extreme heat exposure and thirst of Arizona’s deserts. That’s extravagant hospitality as practiced by members of Southside Presbyterian Church, as well as members of other faith communities in Phoenix.[1] The difference that infuses our own beings, so that as our reading urges, disciples are so self-disciplined that the way in which one lives–and not just what one professes–is a witness to others. Traditionally, we refer to this lifestyle as giving to God our time, talent, and treasure. Over the weekend, I finally had the opportunity to watch An Inconvenient Truth. Former Vice President Al Gore has done a masterful job of presenting the sobering realities of global warming, and his presentation is a commanding call to action. Toward the end of the slide show, Gore verbally lights the candle of hope in reminding his audience that not long ago, chlorofluorocarbons were creating an increasingly wide hole in the ozone layer. Thanks to global efforts, CFC’s have been phased out almost entirely, and the ozone layer is showing signs of responding. A bunch of salty people do make a difference! Gore reminds us of what is possible when we act together for the common good. His slide show is also a reminder that we no longer have the luxury of thinking of treasure solely in terms of income and material possessions–if we ever did. We are not called just to add flavor or to bring essential elements to our own home. The treasure we offer to God includes the very world with which we are entrusted. In the poet’s imagination, that’s the very first responsibility God intends for humankind. And God says, “Let us make humankind in our image, according to our likeness; and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the birds of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the wild animals of the earth, and over every creeping thing that creeps upon the earth.” That is an extraordinary vision. The whole world is in God’s hands, as the song goes, but it’s entrusted to our keeping. So discipleship isn’t something we just put on for a couple of hours on Sunday morning. Because that’s the thing about salt. It’s needed everywhere, and it does absolutely no good inside the shaker. It only works when it’s used. On this World Communion Sunday, our small table becomes huge. It’s filled with joy salted by pain. As we gather here, we are joined by millions of sisters and brothers. It started some time yesterday in Australia. Someone broke bread and blessed the cup. Another someone took it in China. It was blessed in Bangladesh, broken again in Serbia, given away in Spain. It was taken up in Lebanon, Palestine, South Africa, Sudan. This morning, people in New Britain, Connecticut broke the bread, and the cup was poured out in Coral Gables, Florida. As we continue our day, we’ll less and break bread in the scorched places of California. It will be given away in Guatemala and Venezuela and Columbia.[2] And every time the bread is broken, every time the cup is poured, we remember. We remember that discipleship, our discipleship, is an urgent matter. We are urgently called to extravagant hospitality, to planet-friendly living, to healing the sick, to demanding just treatment of prisoners, to feeding the hungry. The world cannot live without salt. And the good news is that God’s Holy Spirit keeps each one of us salty as we use our spiritual gifts for the common good. Thanks be to God! *** [1] The "Arks of the Covenant" desert camps, which...provide water, food and medical help, are part of a larger effort by Arizona's religious groups to curb what has become a crisis of migrants illegally crossing the U.S.-Mexican border on foot only to die of heat exposure and thirst. "All our efforts are within the federal provisions of humanitarian assistance," said the Rev. John Fife, pastor of Southside Presbyterian Church. Arizona Daily Star, Phoenix, 4.20.2004. http://www.azstarnet.com/sn/related/18720.php [2] With thanks to Bev Lewis, 1 October 2006. |