One of the first rules of
homiletics is to avoid using the word “you” in homilies as much as possible. The reasons are pretty simple and maybe even
obvious: the word “you” can come across
as accusatory; and Scripture speaks to everyone – preacher included – so the
word “we” is preferred. Well, it seems
like someone forgot to tell Jesus about the first rule of homiletics; he uses
the words “you” and “your” five times in the seven short sentences of today’s
Gospel passage. I guess that’s because
today’s Gospel is all about you.
There’s no escaping it;
Jesus is talking to you in today’s Gospel.
In fact, for you grammar aficionados out there, the original ancient
Greek text makes clear that Jesus is using the second person, plural form of
the subjective and possessive pronouns in this passage. For you normal people out there, that means
he’s talking to you, all of you (including me).
Well, now that he has our attention, what’s he telling us? [I’m sorry, I can’t help switching back to
the first person – I feel naughty saying “you”]. Jesus is telling us that we are the salt of
the earth and the light of the world. He’s
not telling us what we’re going to become or what we need to become. He’s telling us what we already are – salt and
light – because that’s what disciples are.
In baptism, we became Disciples
of Christ, and with baptism we take on a mission – we’re called to bring Christ
to the nations by feeding the hungry, giving shelter to the homeless and clothing
the naked, just like our first reading from Isaiah tells us. “Jesus’ followers are challenged to active
engagement in their ‘good works.’ The
goal of their works is that other people might come to praise God.”[1]
So why salt and light?
Well, as the Latin proverb goes, “Nothing is more useful than sun and
salt.”[2] Salt purifies; it preserves; it enhances
flavor. If you've ever been on a low
sodium diet, or if you have an icy driveway, you know just how important salt
is. And light? Light leads us through darkness; it calms our
fears; it brings us life. I don’t think
I need to remind you how you felt during the Irene or Sandy blackouts? So “[w]hen Jesus compares his followers to
salt, he says that they improve the quality of human existence and preserve it
from destruction. When Jesus calls his
disciples the light of the world, he says that our actions serve as a beacon of
light in a dark world.”[3] That may seem like a tall order, but we’re
not alone. We’re called as disciples to
let our light shine to all, but we “do not generate the light any more than
salt generates its own saltiness.” [4] Our light is kindled by God, our salt is
mined by God. We’re called as disciples
to use these gifts to bring people to the loving God who gave them to us.
Now that brings me back to you. When I tap someone on the shoulder to join a
ministry, the most common response I get is, “I can’t.” It usually follows a litany of self-proclaimed
weaknesses like “I’m not good at that;” “I have no talent;” or my personal favorite,
“I’m not holy enough.” To be honest, these
excuses just don’t cut it. As a great
theologian once said, “To flee into invisibility is to deny the call”[5]
of discipleship. For better or for
worse, “the material [that] God has found apt for knowing, loving and serving
him is human nature: blood, flesh, bone,
salt, water, will, intellect.”[6] It’s you! And if you still can’t get over your
weaknesses, take a look at Saint Paul. “From
the perspective of worldly standards, Paul’s mission should be a failure. . .
. He is plagued by illness, his
appearance is unimpressive, his personal delivery is weak.”[7] He talks about his weaknesses all the time,
including in our second reading this morning from First Corinthians. But his weaknesses don’t stop him from being what
he truly is, what we all are – the salt of the earth and the light of the world. St. Paul’s weaknesses don’t stop him because he
lets God’s Spirit and power work through him and his weaknesses. It’s the same for you. It’s all about you. Will you let God’s Spirit and power work through
you and your weaknesses, or will you set your lamp under a bushel basket; will you
let your salt become insipid?
In my experience, the people who say “I can’t” can’t
see the good they do every day, the good that made me tap them on the shoulder in
the first place. I’ll bet that most of
you here don’t give yourself credit for the positive impact you have on the world. Think about it for a minute:
-
You feed the
hungry with more than 5,000 food items and more than 3,000 full meals each year. You are
the salt of the earth;
- You've sheltered
the homeless by providing 24 Haitian families with homes of their own; You are
the light of the world;
- You've clothed
the naked with 24,778 diapers collected in just one month. You are
a city set on a hill (made out of diaper boxes, no doubt) ;
Please, please don’t hide your talents; share them. Let your light shine before others so that you and they and we can give
glory to God.
Well, by my count, I've violated
the no “you” policy 35 times in this homily, and there are a few more to
come. Please don’t write the
Bishop. I hope you don’t feel that I’m
being accusatory – that’s not my intention or desire. And I hope you don’t think that I’m excluding
myself from the reach of today’s Gospel.
I definitely am not. But if you
think I’m speaking to you in today’s homily, well, actually, Jesus is. You can’t escape it, because his Gospel is
all about you.
[1] Daniel
J. Harrington, “The Gospel of Matthew,” Sacra
Pagina, vol. 1 (Collegeville, Liturgical Press, 2007) at 80.
[2] “Nil sole et sale utilius.”
[3] Daniel
J. Harrington, “Matthew,” The
Collegeville Bible Commentary, New Testament, Robert J. Karris, ed. (Collegeville,
Liturgical Press, 1992) at 870.
[4] M.
Eugene Boring, “The Gospel of Matthew,” The New Interpreter’s Bible, vol. VIII
(Nashville, Abingdon Press, 1994) at 182.
[5] Dietrich
Bonhoeffer, Discipleship, Barbara Green and Reinhard Krauss, trans. (Minneapolis,
Fortress, 2001) at 113.
[6] Caryll
Houselander, “Accepting the Prophet.”
[7] Harrington,
“Matthew,” at 870.
