Jesus told his disciples, "You are the salt of the earth." Recently I put quite a bit of thought into what it means to be the salt of the earth. I feel that it's something important to consider because it comes to us somewhat as an imperative: we are to be the salt of the earth. We are to make a noticeable difference in the world.
For me this question comes as a particular personal challenge—as it should for all of us—because it addresses each one of us. We really do need to know how to be the salt of the earth in order for Christianity to be the difference the world needs.
Now as I began to explore the question of being the salt of the earth the first thing that came to mind was that to be the salt of the earth we must be good people. Certainly there's nothing wrong being good and undoubtedly as Christians we ought to be good. Being good goes a long way because God is good. However, is being good all by itself enough to make us the salt of the earth?
Something I've noticed recently among those who are unbelievers is the claim that it's possible to be good without believing in God. In fact, there's a popular book that bears the title Good without God. Aside from the more philosophical question of whether goodness is even possible without God, I wouldn't necessarily argue whether non-believers can be good without believing because my experience teaches me that there are, in fact, plenty of good, ethical, and honest people who dedicate their lives to the service of humanity, and yet who adamantly claim to have no belief in God. Obviously one can be good without being a Christian. Therefore, being good alone isn't sufficient to make us the salt of the earth.
The next thing that came to mind was that perhaps it's faith that makes us the salt of the earth. Surely belief itself sets us apart from the rest of the world? I'm sure that faith as the criterion might appeal to traditional mainline Protestants, who believe that faith alone can bring about salvation. Or faith might appeal to Catholics who have a heightened sense of the spirituality belonging to faith and devotion. However this too failed to give me a satisfactory answer. There are plenty of faithful Catholics, Protestants, Jews, Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists, even pagans and Wiccans right here in the Austin area. Just having faith by itself doesn't make us the salt of the earth. It puts us in a bigger group of individuals and communities who, as a central tenet, have faith as their defining characteristic.
"There must be something else that I'm missing," I thought. So I considered the lives of the martyrs and mystics. I considered whether it's possible at all to be salt without the supernatural help of God and whether salt might be a possible metaphor for the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. I even considered that being salt might stand for having the courage to meet every trial, and to face the ultimate threat of ceasing to exist altogether.
Finally I considered love: love in the sense of caritas or agape, the love that is charity, love in deed or action, and I thought that perhaps I had found the definitive answer. Love makes us the salt of the earth, I reasoned, because God is love. It's love that compels us to act in a selfless or altruistic manner. It's love that's the source of mercy and forgiveness; it's love that compelled the martyrs to offer their lives; it's love that St. Paul tells us is the greatest of the three interrelated features of Christian life: faith, hope, and love.
Indeed, perhaps love is the salient difference that makes Christians stand out, that which lets our light shine; but we have to learn to see love in a way that's essentially different from what the culture and world of today tells us is love. Love, without qualification, is pretty common. Our love has to go beyond the ordinary understanding of love. Our love must be countercultural. Jesus tells us that if we love only those who love us there is no reward in it. Love, in its truest sense, is giving sacrificially of oneself and being at the service of justice—of righting the wrongs—as the first reading from Isaiah makes clear: Share your bread with the hungry, shelter the oppressed and homeless, clothe the naked when you see them. However, see justice not as an obligation but as love. Be willing to do and give beyond all expectation. Be at the service of the common good.
It's important in our modern-day world to note that the features intrinsic to justice, as with goodness, are something that people of other faiths and people of no faith may share with us. Being tolerant of others also belongs to justice. The fact that non-Christians are capable of justice doesn't take away from its salience. Ours is justice that is infused with God's love. It is action that expects nothing in return; it is that which loves its enemies and forgives the worst wrongs done to it.
The imperative to be salt comes with the injunction of not allowing salt to lose its defining feature: that is, we are not to allow Christianity to become diluted or watered down. However, knowledge of the injunction not to allow the salt to lose its savor only places a greater imperative on us. Is the faith we present to the world such that our actions toward the poor and marginal reveal it clearly? Does it give hope where there is little or is it diluted by our being opposed to reason, by superstition or false religiosity, by self-righteousness, or by our having condemning and judgmental attitudes?
Christianity is under the microscope of scrutiny more now than at any other time in history. More now than ever Christians have to be certain that if the world rejects us, it's not because of some evil done on our part. Therefore, the question that every Christian must ask himself or herself is, "In the way that I live my life, am I perceived as being the salt of the earth?"
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