Salt And Light

Salt And Light

You are the salt of the earth. But what good is salt if it has lost its flavor? Can you make it useful again? It will be thrown out and trampled underfoot as worthless. You are the light of the world—like a city on a mountain, glowing in the night for all to see. Don’t hide your light under a basket! Instead, put it on a stand and let it shine for all. –Matthew 5:13-15

One might assume that if we are foreigners—exiles living here on earth and longing for our true home in heaven—we simply won’t get involved in the affairs of the world around us. But the fact that we are exiles on the earth doesn’t mean we’re unconcerned, uncaring, or disconnected from this world. It means we exert our influence in the best of ways. We care because God cares, and we get involved because we want to be involved in what God is doing. We want our hearts to be broken by the things that break the heart of God.

When Jesus says that we are the salt of the earth and the light of the world, he is not only describing who we are but what we do. To those who heard Jesus speak these words, salt was not so much a flavor enhancer as it was an essential preservative prior to modern refrigeration. By calling us salt, Jesus invited us to become a part of his own preservation-and-health ministry in this decaying and sin-diseased world. Likewise, Jesus called us light, inviting us to join him in his work of penetrating the darkness, illuminating truth, and showing people how to find their way home to God.

Our ability to be preservation agents and illuminators is dependent on our connection to the Source of true light and true saltiness. On our own we cannot save or sustain anything, but Jesus has drawn us into the task he is about. His work has become our work. It begins to define not only what we do but who we are. Much more than a marginal note to an otherwise selfish existence, being salt and light is our part in God’s plan for redeeming this broken world.

Salt and light don’t simply serve themselves. Salt does its best work in decaying places, and light does its best in dark places. Has your salt lost its preservation power because you’re too consumed with self-preservation? Have you hidden your light under a basket of self-protection or withdrawn to nurse your own wounds? If so, isn’t it time you remembered who you are? You are salt, and you are light. Preserve. Shine.

Light of the World, don’t let me become so preoccupied with my own pain that I am indifferent and uninvolved in people’s lives and the world around me. Make me the preservation and illumination agent you’ve called me to be.

DIGGING DEEPER