Today’s readings: Isaiah 58, 7-10; 1 Corinthians 2, 1-5; Matthew 5, 13-16.
The gospel of Matthew was written as a wake-up call for Christian communities to be visible and accountable. The imagery of salt and light used by Jesus highlights the need for the community of disciples not to be an introvert and closed Church, separate from the rest of society and the emerging culture.
As Dietrich Bonhoeffer writes in his book The Cost of Discipleship, by calling those meant to be disciples “salt of the earth”, Jesus is implying that disciples are meant to be the highest good, those without whom the earth cannot live.
Salt penetrates the whole earth, and by it, the earth subsists. It is only as long as the salt retains its cleansing and savoring properties that it can preserve the earth. That is its quality.
There is no doubt that at present we are going through rough but challenging times. The temptation of escapism recurs from time to time in the history of Christianity, seeking to make of our churches and of our liturgies, comfort zones that gradually and consistently lose connection with the outside world and with the real problems of wounded humanity. But flight into the invisible is a denial of the call, says Bonhoeffer.
For a very broad variety of reasons, ranging from historical to political, cultural, and even religious, Christianity may have lost its ‘taste’ and the grip it once had on reality as we perceive it and experience it. We live in times when we are experiencing how weak we’ve become to argue convincingly our way through so many thorny issues which in past times were almost simplistically resolved in black on white terms.
We need to recover the real driving force of Christianity which, to quote St Paul in today’s second reading, far from lying in “arguments that belong to philosophy”, can only be “a demonstration of the power of the Spirit”.
Christianity was never meant to answer all the questions in the world. It was meant to shine, to provoke wonder. In his work, Weight of Glory, C. S. Lewis writes assertively: “I believe in Christianity as I believe the sun has risen, not because I see the sun, but because by it, I see everything else”.
What do people hope for from religion today? As Timothy Radcliffe suggests: “People are suspicious of anyone who claims to know the roadmap to paradise”. Christianity is not about telling people what they must or must not do.
Teaching the way to goodness, which is an aspect of the Church’s role in society even today, is not primarily about rules and commandments. It is more about how one is to be strengthened for the journey. It is more about accompanying people.
Years ago, with the rise of secularisation and the demise of religion from the public square, there was talk about the ‘invisible religion’. In the Western world, people were guaranteed freedom of religion, yet they were made to believe that religion should not interfere with politics, should steer away from the public sphere, and hence that it should be invisible.
In today’s gospel, Jesus demonstrates how faith is basically personal, yet not private. That is what the quality of the salt and light imply.
Discipleship is not meant for heaven, but it is mainly an earthly task. In the first reading, the prophet Isaiah speaks of “doing away with the yoke”, of “sharing bread with the hungry and sheltering the homeless poor”. Claiming to believe in God and in Jesus Christ, demands from us accountability for all that happens around us.
The options are to stand for justice, and so to proclaim plainly how things should be, or to be complacent with injustice. There is no room for compromise.
Jesus speaks of “a city built on a hill-top that cannot be hidden”, probably referring to him being crucified on a hill-top and to our inescapable responsibility for the world. We are called to bring light in the darkness that engulfs the world and, with Jesus, to be accountable for the healing of the world.