“You are the light of the world. A city built on a
hill cannot be hid.” (Matthew
5:14)
Once
upon a long time ago in the ancient Mediterranean world, religion was something
you did because everyone else was doing it. It worked to hold the tribe or the
city state together. You had your own god or set of gods, you made a regular
sacrifice at the local holy place, and you hoped your god would send you rain
for your crops or fecundity for your livestock or—at the very least—wouldn’t
decide to wipe out your whole community with a war or a flood or a plague.
Eventually,
however, you came to realize that the gods really didn’t give a crap about you.
Yeah, you made your sacrifice. Maybe they liked it. maybe they didn’t, but they
were up on Mt. Olympus or wherever else gods hung out and didn’t have much time
to interact with you. If you wanted insight into ethical behavior or the
meaning of life or anything like that you might go to a philosopher, but your
religion wasn’t going to help you out much. If the gods were in a bad mood, you
were screwed and there wasn’t anything you could do about it. “As flies to
wanton boys,” Shakespeare said, “are we to the gods; they kill us for their
sport.[i]”
Then
along came the Jews, and they only worshiped one God. This God has some pretty
strong opinions about what folks should or shouldn’t be up to. This God wasn’t
as interested in ritual sacrifice as he was in how people treated each other. This
God got in your face and reminded you that there are rules by which a society
can work. Break these rules and things fall apart. So, some people started
getting really serious about the rules but lost sight of why they were given.
Then
along came a teacher named Jesus of Nazareth. He reminded us that the rules
were there so we could learn to love one another. The Anglican bishop and
religious scholar N.T. Wright summarized this very nicely:
"Jesus doesn't give an
explanation for the pain and sorrow of the world. He comes where the pain is
most acute and takes it upon himself. Jesus doesn't explain why there is
suffering, illness, and death in the world. He brings healing and hope. He doesn't
allow the problem of evil to be the subject of a seminar. He allows evil to do
its worst to him. He exhausts it, drains its power, and emerges with new
life." ~ N. T. Wright[ii]
Jesus
got folks excited about his message. So excited, in fact, that within a
generation of his crucifixion and resurrection people on three continents were
worshipping him as their Lord and Savior. Why? Because it was clear to people
that the Christians loved one another. They cared for the community. They
shared what they had, and they believed in taking care of the poor and the
stranger and those on the margins.
Can
you imagine what it must have felt like for the average peasant to be told “You
are the light of the world? You are the salt of the earth?” Not “you could
be,” or “you should be,” but you are like light—a source of energy
and joy and life. You are like salt—someone who brings flavor and
preserves and enriches and is of great value. But your light and your value are
not for you to horde and revel in. They’re for you to share with a hurting
creation.
A
city on a hill can’t be hidden. It can stand out as an example of how life and
relationships ought to be. You want folks to look to the city and say, “Gosh.
Those people have it going on. They’re so loving, so generous, and they always
look really happy!” But because the city stands out, it can also be judged. If the
city is one giant, rat-crawling slum—that will get noticed too. People will
say. “Those guys have everything and they waste it. They’re small-minded and
self-absorbed and hung up on their own stuff. Wouldn’t want to be like them.”
We
all know that Christianity in America is changing. I hope we’re getting away
from the idea that salvation is about going to Heaven when we die. Rather, it’s
time we focus on bringing the Kingdom of Heaven to life here on earth. The old 19th
century reformers wanted to reach out to the dark places of society, to the
down and out, and bring the hopeless and the destitute salvation. They opened
missions and offered soup and a sermon. I’d suggest that today the soup is the
sermon. We who have the gift of Jesus—we who are the light and the salt—are called
to be in the places of greatest need. We don’t go armed with doctrine but with
generosity and enough love to meet the needs of others.
If
we let our light shine through our good works people will see it and they’ll
get the idea.
[i]
The blinded Earl of Gloucester says this in King Lear act 4 sc. 1 in
case you’re interested.
[ii]
Unfortunately, I don’t know the exact source of this quote. I found it here: https://www.azquotes.com/author/15971-N_T_Wright
Sometimes you just have to trust the internet.
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