The Value of Salt Matthew 5:13-16

Over the past several months, Wendy and I have cultivated a liking for traditional Indian food. It’s not everyone’s favorite, I realize, and we both had concerns over how hot and spicy it can be; in addition, I admit, the strictly vegetarian diet didn’t have a lot of appeal to me either. Nevertheless, I’ve now been converted to appreciate it, without apprehension over biting down on paneer instead of chicken or fish, or consuming rice and grains rather than leafy vegetables—enough to enjoy a satisfying meal. Between what Wendy has prepared since the wedding last summer and what we consumed in New Delhi a couple of weeks ago, Indian food has curried a lot of favor (and flavor) with me! While staying with Zed’s parents in New Delhi, we were treated to a range of smells and tastes, with spices and herbs in abundance. Pali, Zed’s mother, is a strict vegetarian and obsessive in having natural ingredients in anything she prepares. There are no shortcuts. However, Pali is quite insistent on limiting salt, critical as she is of how the Indian marketplace has been inundated with fast food restaurants and processed and packaged foods, resulting in widespread health problems in the population relative to high blood pressure. What could I say? Obviously, Americans are largely the source for this, and we suffer the same, especially with the table salt we then add to our meals. It’s serious enough for cardiologists to nutritionists to warn that salt has become the enemy of the people— here, there, and everywhere.

1 This is not to say salt is a recent additive to our collective diets. Yet, it’s only been in the past century or so that health concerns over salt consumption have been raised, once it joined sugar as ubiquitous ingredients in food processing. Throughout history, however, salt was rarely overdone because it wasn’t plentiful. In fact, it was a coveted commodity, particularly as a preservative. Somewhere in time, ancient fishermen must have realized drying salted fish prevented spoilage for storage (or unsalted dried fish, which gave rise to that pungent Norwegian Christmas delicacy I and others were subjected to, i.e., lutefisk, which is dried codfish soaked in water and lye over several days). Then, some Neanderthal hunter must have discovered that salting meat did much the same, by drying out the natural moisture that contributed to the growth of bacteria. So, even thousands of years ago, salting meat and fish helped to ensure food supplies were safe to eat. Historically, the value of salt was always premium since it was fairly limited in supply, being residual from the sea brine or from mineral springs; it was a tradable, and highly cherished, commercial commodity. Salt was so important, it was even used to ceremonially seal ancient covenants and agreements (e.g., Leviticus 2:13; Numbers 18:19; II Chronicles 13:5). The Romans paid their soldiers with “salarium,” (from whence we get the English term, “salary”), which was derived from the Latin word for “salt”—sal—because it was compensation paid for the purchase of salt. Even another familiar term, “salad,” originates from this Latin root, literally referring to the Roman practice of salting leafy vegetables.

2 A little further south into sub-Saharan Africa, for many centuries salt was used as currency, including in the purchase and sale of slaves! The most intriguing reference I found was that 1500 years ago the Moors traded gold for salt, for equal weight—in effect, they traded a brick of gold for a brick of salt (with that type of market sense, no wonder they are no Moor)! History tells us that not only have ancient tribes fought territorial battles over salt, in recent centuries monarchs imposed taxes on it, which incited various rebellions and revolutions, including the Russian revolt of 1648; the hated gabelle (salt tax in France) was a key catalyst for the French revolution; in December 1775, Virginia farmers began their own salt riots when there was a shortage, contributing to the revolutionary cause a few months later. Even less than a century ago, salt was taxed as a commodity by the British in their colonies—a point of bitterness and defiance for Gandhi and his followers in the Indian independence movement, who you may recall, made their own salt to avoid paying the British tax, i.e., the Salt March. I’m sure you find this fascinating about the value of salt! In all likelihood, you thought it was so common and cheap that you never thought twice about it, except to avoid it. This might be why the old idiom, “a person is worth their weight in salt,” was never truly understood in modern culture. With history as our guide, it’s clear it was meant as a wonderful compliment! It means you are extremely valuable, essential to daily life and, I suppose, you preserve what was unspoiled and good about the world!

3 This revised understanding, then, should enlighten us on another idiom, i.e., one Jesus himself may have coined when he declared his followers to be “salt of the earth”—the familiar reference we have here in our text today from the Sermon on the Mount. This is particularly insightful, because we likely interpreted it as meaning something quite different than he intended, as referring to those who are rather common, perhaps undistinguished, down-to-earth, and practical. “Salt of the earth” people are characterized as the ones who are straight-forward and call it as it is without pretentions. “Salty dogs” are seen as ordinary folks close to the essential elements of life—no frills, no fanfare. Hence, old Noankers may be referred to as “salt of the earth” people because they possess rugged charm, unvarnished honesty and, like table salt, they’re fairly cheap! But from the view of history, it’s apparent we’ve had it wrong. Given the value of salt in Jesus’ day, we now realize he was citing “salt of the earth” people as being quite special, absolutely essential, greatly coveted, and beneficial to help preserve and save others. Can you imagine what it would have meant to those who likely never felt much value in the social order of his time? Here was Jesus endowing them with a measure of personal and public dignity, which raised their self-esteem, self-respect, and social value—quite out of the norm for many with whom he made company. That was a declaration of divine grace and, in turn, a deliberate point of resistance against the established social and religious order. In Jesus’ counterintuitive messaging, the “deplorable” and “expendable” peasants were essential to God’s realm and Israel’s nation, coveted much like the salt of the earth!

4 So, what did that mean beyond a glorious upgrade in status? That’s where I think it has its most impactful meaning. To be salt, meant they helped preserve what was good about and in humanity, in contrast to those who did things to spoil it. Salt of the earth people were those who actively resisted the corruption of the world by building relationships of trust and communities that could sustain it. For one thing, as a rule they weren’t among society’s elite—wealthy, influential, and lords and masters over everyone under them; they were quite the opposite, among those forced to share resources out of need, mutually dependent on each other; perhaps they even were humbled enough to be grateful for their daily supply of bread and fish. But in Jesus’ eyes, that is what made them special and morally superior. Their low position in life required them to depend on building a community of mutual support and trust (a reflection of God’s realm—a kindom, not a kingdom, meaning a family-like relationship, instead of a hierarchy with them at the bottom) in dire contrast to those who strived to be on top of the social order and hierarchy, whose selfish ambitions were never satisfied, enough to corrupt what was good in them and in their world. In other words, salt of the earth people would not be easily contaminated or compromised by the corrosive elements of large scale greed, deceit, bribery, abuse of power, fraud, putting self-interest above everything else because it wouldn’t be in their interests to do so. Certainly, this wasn’t because salt of the earth people were perfect and unblemished in their character. But central to Jesus’ teachings, it was because they were inclined to value community life,

5 share what they could, and treat their neighbors well. The power games of political hierarchy and social order, of wealth and privilege, all contributed to the distrust and hypocrisy of the public institutions, where the level of corruption eroded public confidence in a system that protected private interests over public ones, and where those in power made certain it always stayed that way. Sound familiar? On a daily basis, all sorts of unethical conduct was evident and tolerated— in the marketplace, in the politics, in land and property transactions, and more, even among the religious elite who were serving Mammon instead of God—something that still seems to be true in just about every human society, particularly ours. Yet, if you were salt of the earth people, you didn’t participate in this common practice and corruption as a rule, mainly because you weren’t invited into those circles, other than being impacted by their injustice; so, you were never in a position to do any of this. You were on the outside looking in at the endless immorality and malfeasance, powerless to change it. You didn’t contribute to the moral decline of your society, but invariably you were held captive by it. So Jesus led them to embrace the ways of God to counter what they could not change. Followers of Jesus were instructed to resist these temptations fed by ego by reinforcing Jesus’ teachings contained in the Sermon on the Mount, cultivating a spirit of selflessness and love that inoculated them from the desire to cheat, lie, or defraud neighbors. It makes perfect sense to me that when Jesus referred to his followers as being “salt of the earth,” he not only imbued them with value, he viewed them as those he could trust to carry on this mission

6 with his teachings and Spirit to build the beloved community that heralded the realm of God. Who could live up to this challenge—to preserve the good and remain pure from corruption and corrosive elements? Those who were not deeply invested in the way things normally worked. Those who knew a better way to live and be. This is precisely why these verses immediately follow the Beatitudes in the Sermon on the Mount. The Beatitudes, as we know, refer to those who will occupy and bring about the realm of God on earth—they are among the blessed ones who would ultimately redeem Israel and the earth itself. They are the salt of the earth—the ones who would, in the end, preserve the integrity of Israel and of humanity as a whole. The salt of the earth were the poor and poor in spirit (who were often the victims of injustice or social shame) as well as those who mourned (because they suffered losses in life that others didn’t). But it went beyond these to include others at every level of life. Jesus pointed to those who are pure in their motives and heart (they would see God), those who yearn to do the right and righteous thing (they would be satisfied), those who seek to cultivate peace even at great risk to themselves (they would be embraced as children of God), and those who are humble and meek and not enslaved by their own ambition and ego (they would inherit the earth). What do they all have in common? A desire to live as God would have us be. These are the salt of the earth who are not undermining the essential trust necessary for human activity and society or corrupting the institutions responsible for the welfare of their country. Whereas those who lie at the top sell their souls in a

7 Faustian gamble to strive for what they cannot hold onto, bringing about their own ultimate demise—just like every kingdom, every monarch, every corporate lord, and every worldly power and empire has fallen before. And who will inherit the future? Those who wait upon God to lead them there, who preserve their hopes, dreams, and desires for justice, for doing what is right, they will rise up and are revealed in time. As Dr. King reminded us: “The arc of history is long, but it bends toward justice.” Those who inherit it are the salt of the earth— the truly valuable people of God. They are the true followers of Jesus’ path—which was the way of truth and life. On a large scale, this is the vision of the gospel. It changes everything on earth! That’s why I’ve come to believe the value of salt is much greater than we might perceive it to be. It may not look like much in everyday life, but it is essential to preserving what’s best in an individual’s soul and to every human enterprise and commonwealth. Salt of the earth people embody the essential values based in shared trust by carrying forward the vision for what humankind could be if we lived up to what is right. It’s not Jesus’ word alone to proclaim, but it is a message relevant to our survival and wellbeing, especially for the times in which we live. We dream this dream as a blueprint for reality someday. And it reorients us toward what it takes to bring about this glimpse of heaven’s joy to earth where God’s will is embraced in human relationships that are right and just, where people are equally valued and respected, where those on the bottom have as much opportunity for the blessings of life as do those at the top, where the sorrows of life

8 are comforted and eased, and where the harmonies of the Spirit are reflected in all that lives and breathes on earth. You are the salt of the earth. …You are the light of the world. We are the salt of the earth; the beloved community in Christ is the light for the world. May we live into our true value as God calls us to be, as Jesus taught us to be, and the Spirit inspires us to be, with truth, wisdom, and “salt of the earth” integrity.

The Rev. Dr. Paul C. Hayes Noank Baptist Church, Noank CT 9 February 2020

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