Salt of the Earth - 5th Sun Ordinary Time year A

For those of us who drink coffee, we like it a certain way.  Maybe black, or with cream, or sugar, or both.  Our tastes can change over time, or maybe at one specific time.  Once at a friend’s house I was offered a coffee, and I asked for cream and sugar.  I took a sip, and something didn’t taste right.  I forced it down so not to offend.  Then my friend had a taste and promptly spit it out all over a freshly painted wall.  It turns out it was coffee with cream and salt.  From that point on, I stopped taking sugar, or anything that might resemble it, on my coffee.

            Today, salt is often taken for granted.  It’s clean, processed, and even enhanced through iodizing.  It rarely loses its flavor.  We only tend to notice when it’s missing or excessive. In the time of Jesus, salt was hard to come by.  It was gathered from the Dead Sea or after ponds evaporated.  Dirt and other minerals stuck to it, and it took hard work to get it ready for use.  In a humid climate, the salt would dissolve, into a powder with no flavor, and with no value.

            Pure salt, on the other hand, was a precious commodity.  So much so that as a part of their pay, soldiers received a measure of salt known as a salarium, from which we get the word salary.  It was used to preserve food before refrigeration. 

It was also a means of purification and cleansing. Rubbing it on wounds was common, and even on newborn babies.  Because of it’s value, it was added to sacrifices offered in the Temple.  Purity was key for worshipping God well.

The prophet Isaiah talks about a different kind of purity and gives a road map.  It comes in the context of true and false fasting and worship.  Fasting, as we practice during Lent, is a means to purify our motives and bring flavor to the community.  Social injustice is a stark reality which needs the taste of loving Christian service to help season our world.  Giving up time, food, or something of value only has “flavor” when it allows for good to come about.  Sharing with the hungry, sheltering the homeless, clothing the naked is our duty to those around us needing our care.  More importantly in a divided world, then and now, removing malicious speech and false accusations helps restore the flavor of fraternal love that we desperately need.  Matthew Chapter 25 repeats the same message to live for others.  St. Mother Theresa sums charitable living and giving well, and a good Lenten motto; “Live simply, so others may simply live.”

            Then Jesus continues the Sermon on the Mount but using what’s common to move us to a deeper understanding of our mission in life.   Salt has value only to the extent of its purity. 

Faith works in the same way.  It’s got tremendous value and is meant to be shared to preserve what’s most important.  Salt cured food is a practical means to help more people eat.  The flavor of charitable service to others helps people know God’s love, and love others in turn.  Our world turns on how we learn to love others who are hard to love, or how we turn away from them.

            We have the ultimate flavor enhancer, the salt of our faith.  Salt does nothing until it makes contact.  Our faith works the same way.  We need to add it to our world, but in the right amount.  Too much salt burns open wounds and makes things worse, like and otherwise good cup of coffee.  We want to add our charitable acts in the right measure, so those whose lives get a taste of God’s love want to learn more, and love in kind.  We want to live for others in a way that shows alternatives to injustice and oppression, without looking for praise.  The proof is in the love that is freely shared, without self-interest.  The more we focus on making life better for someone else, the Christian flavor spreads, and cultivates a taste for more, which is only satisfied in the Eucharist.  May our sharing in the Eucharist refresh the salt of our soul, to enhance our world with the Christian works of love we add to it.