Reflections on Jesus' Call to be "Salt and Light"

The Christian faith is "personal" but not "private." Sadly, many Christians fail to realize this important distinction, resulting in devastating consequences to their own faith and - even worse - their witness to the world.

Many Christians have embraced the lie that the Christian faith is primarily a personal matter that is meant to be worked out in one's private life. Christian teachers emphasize that a "personal relationship" with God is at the heart of Christianity, and this is certainly true. However, the way Christian teachers speak about this "personal relationship" is so individualistic and privatized that most Christians tend to equate a "personal relationship" with a "private relationship" with God - a relationship having little to do with one's public life.

Christians are taught that a personal relationship with God primarily consists of private practices - Bible reading, Scripture memory, personal conviction, and "closet" prayer. When piety is primarily measured by inward devotion and interior disciplines then religion has been thoroughly privatized - having little or no impact on one's public life.

But Jesus proclaims a higher call. All our private piety means nothing unless it causes us to see beyond ourselves. We are called to be "salt" and "light" to the world. This is the reason we exist - not in order to retreat into a comfortable world of inner devotion, but in order to demonstrate the values of Christ's kingdom to a needy world. This is not an easy task. Jesus makes it clear that the world will often respond to our faith with suspicion, even outright hostility. We will constantly be tempted to retreat back into the safety of private piety. But Jesus will not give us this option.

The call to make a positive contribution to the world comes in the opening paragraphs of Jesus' Sermon on the Mount. Jesus begins the sermon by declaring that the gracious gift of the kingdom of God is available to all, especially the most unlikely elements of society - the "spiritual zeros" and "beautiful losers" of the world (Mt. 5:3-10).

By proclaiming the availability of the kingdom to all people, Jesus confronts us with a message of grace. God is bringing his kingdom into existence solely due to his gracious mercy and steadfast faithfulness. We cannot make the kingdom come. We can only respond positively to the good news of God's free offer of the kingdom. If we do, we can be assured that we will inherit God's kingdom and all the joys, comforts, and delights that come with it. We can also be assured that we will experience persecution and suffering because of our loyalty to Jesus and his message. However, our response is to be a joyous glad response: "Rejoice and be glad" (Matthew 5:12).

This response is important in light of the great mission that Christ gives to his followers. We are called to live a kingdom life expressed through kingdom values in the midst of a hostile world, not for our own sake, but for the sake of the world. Jesus uses the metaphor of salt and light to picture the mission he gives his followers.

Like salt that adds taste to tasteless food, we are to benefit others by our presence. Are we characterized as adding spice to life? Are we known for bringing zest to events? More often than not, we are known for being killjoys - lifeless, joyless, and barely human.

Like light, we are to make visible the reality of Jesus' kingdom. By shining, we help guide people to the source of our life and light. The hope is that others "may see our good works, and glorify our Father who is in heaven" (Matthew 5:16).

If our mission is to be salt and light to a lost world, how should this impact our view of true piety? What will authentic godliness look like when filtered through the great commission of positively influencing a hostile world? In short, what is involved in following Christ in light of our mission as salt and light?

The sphere of our discipleship is this earth - our world. This is where true discipleship occurs. We often assume that discipleship takes place within the four walls of a church, or within the comfortable setting of a small group, but the greatest environment where discipleship is experienced is in the schoolroom of the world. This schoolroom is a tough, often brutal, place to be. It is hardly comfortable. And yet it is precisely here - in the world, on this earth - that God is restoring a people of faith. Light is needed where darkness is the greatest.

For too long, we have applauded ourselves for being lights among other lights - or, at the very most, lights among dimness. But our light shines most brightly when seen against the backdrop of the blackness of darkness. Though this is not comfortable, it is our calling. One of the reasons why our discipleship is often so superficial is because we are shining in the middle of the day - something that takes little effort and provides little direction. Shining our light among lights slowly erodes our appreciation of the gospel. Our gospel does not seem that valuable when placed against a translucent backdrop. But when the gospel is viewed against the backdrop of utter hopelessness, misery, and pain - against the blackness of darkness - then we begin to comprehend its wondrous brilliance and precious value.

The reason for our discipleship is that others may come to know God. In a Christian subculture that views salvation primarily as the deliverance of one's own soul, we must realize that we exist, not simply for our own personal growth, but for the good of others - especially those outside Christianity.

It is not just pious platitudes, but the manifestation of the grace and goodness of God that leads to life. Our desire for others to know God should not be packaged as propaganda. Our demonstration of the gospel's power should not be reduced to a simple "gospel presentation" where words are exchanged, arguments are developed, and decisions are pressed. Instead, the gospel must be viewed holistically. Jesus said that they will "see our good works," not simply "hear our gospel presentation." Do we really believe our "good works" are that important? Do we really believe that they are not only for our own good, but the good of others? Do we really believe what we do is as important as what we say?

The shape of our discipleship is the beatitudes. We are salt and light to the world when we are people of the beatitudes. The simple reason we remain so ineffective in reaching the world is that we fail to live the blessed life of the beatitudes.

We fail to be salt and light to the world when we aren't "beatitude people." Instead of being poor in spirit, we are arrogant. Instead of mourning, we are cold, uncompassionate, and aloof. Instead of being meek, we are pushy, demanding our own way. Instead of hungering for righteousness, we are apathetic toward personal and social justice. Instead of mercy, we are unmerciful, unforgiving, and judgmental. Instead of being pure in heart, we are divided, hypocritical, without integrity. Instead of promoting peace, we are violent, hateful, always on the attack. Instead of suffering for others, we are unwilling to pay the price of love.

Let's be honest: When unbelievers think of Christians, do they think of the beatitudes or their opposites? If only it could be said of us, that in every way we are respected, except for our faith in Christ.

It is time for the church to confess her sin. Certainly the world rages against God, but we must accept the fact that we have done much to fuel this anger. We are at least partly responsible for the world's rejection of God.

If we are honest, we must admit that we have done much to turn people off to God. I am convinced that most unbelievers reject, not the true and living God, but our cheap, pale, and petty versions of God. Many have seen "our God" in the way we act and speak and have rightly turned away, wanting nothing to do with him. This should give us cause for concern.

Why is it that the last place people think they will experience authentic spirituality is the Church? For the most part, people are desperate for transcendent reality that will give meaning and wholeness to their lives. Sadly, many of our meetings hardly seem "spiritual" or "transcendent", and yet we claim to be Spirit-filled people who (mystery of all mysteries) claim to personally know and love God.

When people come to our meetings, do they see joyous, accepting, gracious, compassionate, loving, patient, unified communities of faith? Too often, what they encounter is exactly the opposite: petty, divisive, small-minded, cold-hearted, apathetic, impatient, self-serving, self-righteous, humorless individuals.

Do people get the idea from us that if they met Jesus, he would like them? Or do they get a feeling - based on our actions - that he would yell at them? We use war metaphors to speak of "the enemy." We fight homosexuals, liberals, democrats, and heretics (defined as anybody that does not believe exactly as we do). The Apostle Paul uses war metaphors but not in the same way we do. Paul's weapons are weapons of love, compassion, mercy, and understanding. His weapons are certainly not hate, exclusion, intolerance, manipulation, or the ever-petty boycotting. Due to our "war" tactics, people know more about what we are against rather than what we actually stand for. Even worse, they come to understand themselves as our "enemies" - as the "them" who we, the "us", violently oppose, despise, and hate.

All this has transpired because we confuse "personal" with "private." We assume that our faith is genuine and real when it is "personal" and "private." In the process, we fail to recognize that our "personal" faith is of no value whatsoever unless it is "public."

For too long, we have evaluated our personal piety by looking inward rather than by looking outward. We have judged our holiness by private devotions rather than by public acts of love, kindness, and good works. We have examined ourselves by looking within rather than by considering how much we truly embrace others - friend and foe alike - with an others-oriented, self-giving love. We have forgotten that we can have all faith, know all mysteries and still be useless to God. To paraphrase Paul's great love chapter: We can do our devotions every morning without fail, memorize the entire Bible, listen attentively to expository preaching, search every crevice of our soul for impurity, and pray with our every conscious thought, but without love - others-oriented, self-giving love - we have done nothing! Please read the previous sentence again because the truth contained therein cannot possibly be overstated!

Are you tasteless salt? Are you an invisible light? Or does your life reflect your loyal commitment to Christ's call to positively impact others, regardless of their response, by serving others the same grace, kindness, acceptance, and overflowing love you have received? In order to have any positive impact, we must engage the world. Salt must be pressed into food in order to benefit it. Light must be surrounded by darkness to shine brightly. It is far easier to be a light among lights. Our temptation will always be to choose the path of least resistance - to choose comfort over risk, safety over threat. But when did we ever get the idea that the Christian life was meant to be safe and comfortable? To obey Christ's call is to live for the world, regardless of the world's response - even if it kills us. The One we claim to follow has gone before us, fully living out his teaching, giving his life for the sake of the world, never failing to love even when rejected, ridiculed, and ultimately, murdered.

Finally, the expression of our discipleship is to be corporate. The "you" in "you are the salt of the earth… you are the light of the world" is plural. The call to be salt and light is not an individual call, but a corporate call that those of us who claim to follow Christ share together. The mission is "our" mission. We are called as a community to fulfill our corporate mission of serving as salt and light in the world. We must constantly remind ourselves of this, for it is easy to forget in the daily grind of raw human relationships.

In spite of hostile responses, Christians are collectively called to demonstrate the values of Christ's kingdom for the sake of the world and to the glory of God. We are not against the world, but we are also not the world. Instead, we are set apart for the sake of the world. We are called to be a blessing to the world regardless of the way we are treated.

When we do suffer, we should suffer for doing what is right (cf. 1 Peter 3:17; 4:15-16). We should not suffer because we are know-it-alls, self-righteous, or just plain jerks. There is a fine line between genuine conviction and insulting arrogance.

Too often, we try to make Christians in very unchristian ways. We put a lot of priority on empty chatter, hoping to win arguments. Perhaps we should put more effort into being the kind of people God calls us to be, and demonstrating the loving heart of God to others by the way we live. Jesus said that people would glorify God when they "see our good works." Do we really believe that our gracious and loving works evidence the reality of Christ's kingdom?

Our lives are to make the gospel attractive to others. This does not happen through pious platitudes, but through self-sacrificial service to others - through love that refuses to stop even if resisted, despised, and rejected.

Certainly, the Christian faith is "personal" and involves a "personal relationship" with God. But this is not to imply that the Christian faith is "private." "Personal" and "private" are two distinct words that are often confused. Our faith is personal but it is not private. Indeed, according to Jesus, our faith is meant to be "public" or it is no faith at all.

© Richard J. Vincent, 2003