Theological Truth: To be disciples of Christ means bringing about God’s kingdom. We don’t have to be more than we are, but we do have to share what we’ve received.
At Diocesan Convention last week, Bishop Mark played a talk on evangelism given by Archbishop Stephen Cottrell at the 2022 Lambeth Conference. This joyful and energetic Anglican prelate—in a setting more consistent with a Ted Talk than a cathedral—began with these words:
“McDonalds makes hamburgers. Cadbury’s makes chocolate. Starbucks makes coffee. Toyota makes cars. Rolex makes watches. …And sisters and brothers, the Church of Jesus Christ makes disciples.”
That is our core business. That is what we are about.
Not your grandparents’ Lambeth Conference. But a critical and timely call for the Church to be the Church. To be who we are and to do what we exist to do. And when we do, the kingdom of heaven, the power of God’s love to transform the world, does indeed come near.
There is power in being fully who we are. Take water, for example. Author William Martin observes that “Water’s power lies in its ability to be exactly what it is, where it is. It may be obstructed but never distracted.” Unfortunately, we get distracted, both individually and collectively. We lose sight of our primary calling. We get sidetracked by maintaining buildings, balancing budgets, chasing this fad or that trend. We—both as individuals and the church—blend into the world rather than standing in, yet apart, from it. Martin warns that if we are never where we are, we will have no power. But if we cultivate the ability to be where we are (and I would add: the ability to be who we are to do what we are sent to do), then we will move mountains to the sea as patiently and as surely as does our sister water. (The Art of Pastoring, p. 8)
Jesus knew that the people of his day couldn’t agree on how to use their power—or even if they had any power—to change the world. They were grappling with various approaches of how to exist and what to do about the world they were living in. Bishop N.T. Wright points out that they were still living in a type of exile. Yes, they had returned from their captivity in Babylon, but their promised land continued to be ruled by, occupied by, and oppressed by foreign powers. Three basic different approaches, identities, and mission strategies had developed to cope with these painful realities. The Sadducees chose collaboration and accommodation as a way to preserve a relative peace and maintain the traditions of temple worship in Jerusalem. The zealots on the other hand chose armed and violent struggle in a bloody and endless attempt to restore the kingdom of Israel. The Pharisees had a still different way. They attempted to withdraw from the world through strict adherence to the laws of Torah.
Jesus is speaking to this confusing condition and painful situation. Matthew tells us just prior to this passage that he is speaking to “the sick, those afflicted with various diseases and pains, demoniacs, epileptics, and paralytics.” (4:24b) Not exactly who we might think of as a powerful army to transform the world. Jesus begins with last week’s Gospel—the beatitudes. He tells this crowd that they are blessed. They are not the last, the lost, or the least. They are blessed. They are God’s. They belong. They are strong. Now that Jesus has told them who they are, he now tells them what they are to do. Be salt—preserving, enhancing, evoking goodness. Be light—bring warmth, illuminate truth, overcome darkness.
This isn’t too much to ask. It’s just a matter of being who they are. It’s not an abolishment of the teachings of the law or the hopes of the prophets, but a fulfillment of both. It’s not impossible to exceed the righteousness of the scribes and Pharisees, because they are powerful when they act like the salt and the light that they are. They are able to change the world when they do the work they’ve been given to do. If they follow the good news of God’s love that Jesus is teaching them, if they remember their true identity and core mission, they will change the world just as surely as does their sister water.
Is the same true for us? Do we believe we have the power to change the world? Jesus is speaking to us today, too. When Jesus says “you,” he’s using the plural, not the singular. He’s emphatic about it, too. Not “some” are the light of the world. Not a few individuals are the salt of the earth. But YOU, specifically and collectively, are the salt of the earth and the light of the world. WE are the salt of the earth. WE are the light of the world. This is both our identity and our calling. We are to be in the world, yet not of the world—transforming the world, not waiting it out.
Salt and light are meant to stand out from their surroundings. Salt can’t lose its saltiness, but it can sit alone in a pew. Light can’t help but illuminate, although it can hide behind closed doors. But when they’re in the world, they flavor and illuminate their environments—not by some herculean effort, but by their very essence. The power of their essence and presence changes things. When we remember and act like the salt of the earth and the light of the world, God’s power to move mountains of despair and hills of injustice is unleashed. When we flavor the conversation with the love of Christ and illuminate the path with his way of peace, God’s ability to raise up the valleys of poverty is let loose. The goal of the law and the hopes of the prophets are fulfilled.
Here’s the good news for us today. We are not called to some monumental and uncomfortable mission to convert the heathen. The Church need only be who it has always been—the body of Christ given for the life of the world. We need only do what Archbishop Cottrell reminded us is our core business: “to make disciples, followers of Jesus.” But real followers, not idle fans. Active imitators, not sideline admirers. Salt and light.
Isaiah reminds us of the work God gives us and the results of our doing it:
“To loose the bonds of injustice, to undo the thongs of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke; … to share [our] bread with the hungry, and bring the homeless poor into [our] house; when [we] see the naked, to cover them, and not to hide [ourselves] from [our] own kin. Then [our] light shall break forth like the dawn, and [our] healing shall spring up quickly.”
This is the power of being who we truly are—the salt of the earth and the light of the world. And when we remember who we are and what we are called to do, we will move mountains to the sea as patiently and as surely as does water.
The monks at the Society of St. John the Evangelist remind one another of this at every celebration of the Holy Eucharist. At the invitation to Holy Communion, instead of the traditional “The gifts of God for the people of God,” they say this, “Behold what you are.” The congregation responds, “May we become what we receive.”
We are the salt of the earth. We are the light of the world. We are the body of Christ given for the life of the world. Today, every day, behold what you are. Become what you receive. And God’s kingdom will continue to come near.
— Fr. AJ Heine, Rector, Trinity Episcopal Church of Staunton
Fifth Sunday After Epiphany, Year A, February 5, 2023
Readings: Isaiah 58:1-9a, Psalm 112:1-9, 1 Corinthians 2:1-12, Matthew 5:13-20
