A sermon preached at United Presbyterian Church in Lonetree, Iowa on April 12, 2015 from Matthew 5:13-17.
A few weeks ago while preaching on the
beatitudes I stated that Christendom is over.
What we see now is that:
- Leaders of the church are no longer admired. Any mention of them only seems to happen when they are exposed for unseemly behavior.
- The ideas and notions of the church are no longer given preference in society. In fact, those on the extreme ends of our faith are lifted up by others as caricatures to be made fun of.
- The church has become just another extra-curricular activity. It's no longer central to family life or to the formation of our kids.
For many of us this is hard news to
swallow. The church and its role in society no longer works like we
think it should or how we've always seen it work.
If this is news to you or if this is a
new idea to you, I hope you won't simply dismiss it. I hope you will
take some time to think about it, talk about it, read about it, and
ask what it means for the church.
I hope you'll do that because I think
it's vitally important for us to grasp this new reality. I'm
convinced if the church doesn't work out the implications of this
change, then the future of the church – at least as we have known
it – will be bleak.
That's not to say that Christianity
itself is in trouble. Our faith will always be around, I'm sure of
that.
But how we express that faith will not
stay the same. It will change and adapt. And it's already been doing
just that in different ways and places around the world.
To help us in that work, I think the
Sermon on the Mount is the perfect text for a church pushed to the
side of culture.
It reminds us of the truth of who we
are and who we are called to be. And it gives us a map to make our
way in the reality of this new world.
But before we can see how it's message
is relevant to us today, we need to consider its message for the
early followers of Jesus.
They were simple folks who lived simple
lives: fishermen, homemakers, tax collectors, tent makers, and fabric
makers and assorted others from around the edges of the Roman Empire.
According to the values of their world,
they didn't amount to much. They were nothing special. They weren't
the sorts of folks you would think would make much of a difference in
the world.
And their world told them that too.
They were after all, subjects in the
Roman Empire, which dominated its conquered peoples and - in order to
keep them from rebelling - convinced them they had little value and
no power.
To them, the message of Jesus was
simple:
You are salt. You are light and even
more pointedly: You are “indispensable...as indispensable as salt
or as light.”
Back then, those would have been
encouraging words for Jesus' followers.
They too are encouraging words for
those of us who might feel sidelined or marginalized. For those of us
who might wonder how we are to be the church in the world in which we
find ourselves.
I want you to take note that in this
passage:
Jesus does not say, "If you want
to become salt and light, here's how you do it...."
He does not say, "before I can
call you salt and light, I need to see this from you...."
He also doesn't say: “You will
be salt” or “You should be salt”
Instead he says, “You ARE the salt of
the earth. You ARE the light of the world”
It's as if Jesus says: You can't become
those things. You can't stop being those things. You simply are those
things.
Now, it's true Jesus goes on to say
that salt which loses its saltiness is useless and that light wasn't
made to be put under a bushel. Which might imply that there is a
threat behind Jesus words
This passage has certainly been
interpreted that way.
But really, who has ever heard of salt
that loses its saltiness? Or how many people actually put a lit
candle under a bushel basket?
Those things just don't happen.
I think, all we should read in these
words is a blessing and a commission:
"You are the salt of the earth!
You are the light of the world! That's the way it is and that's the
way it will always be. Period."
A few weeks ago, my wife and I attended
the NEXT Church conference at Fourth Presbyterian Church in Downtown
Chicago.
During my time there, I heard many
great stories about what is happening around the church: Music
programs with neighborhood schools. New ministries among those who
are disabled. Work being done to bridge the racial divide.
A lot of great stuff.
However, as encouraging as it was to
hear those sorts of things, I struggled with my time there because
the conference mostly featured folks from fairly large, prominent,
and well-resourced congregations mostly located in big cities and
wealthy suburbs.
Which is a far cry from Lonetree, Iowa.
It's a far cry from the types of
churches I've been a part of for most of my life. These are not the
type of churches I've ever felt called to serve in my own ministry.
I came away a little discouraged and
depressed. And admittedly a little jealous and envious. I even felt a
little bit like I don't have much to offer to impact the world in a
meaningful way.
The good news, however, is that in the
past week, my faith has been renewed. And it's this chuch here in
Lonetree that has helped renew that faith.
It's true, we may be located in a
little town of 1,500 located in the corn fields of rural Iowa. We may
not be a well-resourced congregation. We may not be flashy and we may
not be out there doing innovative, cutting edge stuff.
But the truth remains: “We are salt
and we are light.” And we are making and we continue to be called
to make a difference in our world.
You see, over the past several weeks. I
have seen you let your light shine, I have seen you be the salt of
the earth.
I have seen faithful disciples gathered
in worship on a joyful Easter Sunday sharing the good news of the
resurrection: Over a hundred of us gathered here!
I have seen faithful disciples care for
those in need through the Food Bank and through preparing Easter
Baskets.
I have seen faithful disciples loving
and nurturing the children and youth in this community, giving them a
place to hang out, have fun, and to hear God's word and to come to
know God.
I have seen faithful disciples visiting
the elderly and sharing the good news of God's love and peace with
those society has often left behind.
I have see faithful disciples share
their resources to help kids have a summer camp experience.
I have heard stories of you caring for
the sick and those in need, of sharing the good news through a new
website, and connecting the gospel to kids using the sorts of
technology they naturally gravitate towards.
There is so much more which I'm sure
I've failed to mention. And there's even more going on that I am
simply not aware of.
I'm certain there are ways that each
one of you is being Salt and Light in the world, in the places where
you live, work, and play.
The truth of the matter is this:
Our success as disciples of Jesus is
not measured by the world's standards.
It's not about returning the church to
the center of culture, or once again becoming a prominent,
well-attended congregation. If that's what we are striving for then
I'm afraid we are working towards the wrong goals.
Instead our call is to live out in
humility who it is we really are: Salt of the earth and Light of the
world.
And to be so in both word and deed, not
to give glory to ourselves, but so others might see and all would
give glory and praise to God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.
Now and forever.
Amen.
Rev. Christine Chakoian in Feasting on the Word and Rev. David Lose at Working Preacher provided some primary points of inspiration.
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