“If salt loses its taste, with what can it be seasoned?” –Matthew
5:13-16
I remember once when my
youngest daughter was a little girl (maybe 6 or 7), she called me at work one
day very excited. She had just received
a new book full of knock knock jokes and she wanted me to know! In fact, she was so excited, without saying
hello, she just started in with the jokes.
I answer the phone, and hear a familiar voice say: Knock Knock! And so,
what else could I do but say: Whose there?
And for perhaps the next 10 minutes she was laughing and reading jokes
to me, one right after the other. Barely a pause. Maybe 2 or 3 pages of them. And yes, it was inane. But, I have to say, by the time she was
reading me the fifth or sixth joke it was no longer the joke that mattered. I
couldn’t stop laughing. Not at the jokes, but at her joy and excitement and
delight in reading them to me. And the
fact that a someone had called me at work to tell me knock knock jokes; AND
they wouldn’t stop!
By the time she
finished, I was exhausted from laughing, and my cheeks hurt. But, what a
glorious feeling. I don’t remember if I
was having a hard day, or if anything was going wrong, I just remember hanging up that phone and
feel a strange and wonderful lightness. A
sense that there was something good in the world. A feeling of hope. Nothing had really changed. But for me, the
world seemed like a better place because a six-year-old called me up and read
me 20 (or more) knock knock jokes. If she had stopped after one or two, it
would have been cute. But, forgettable. But her persistence, made
it something more.
“You are the salt of the
earth,” Jesus tells His disciples. And then challenges them to be that salt,
reminding them that if salt loses its taste, what is it good for, but to be
“thrown out and trampled underfoot.” (cf 5:13b) But how are we to be salt for
the world? How do we add flavor to this
life?
My daughter wasn’t doing
anything “special.” She was just being herself. She had received a gift and she
wanted to share it with someone. That’s
all. Nothing special. Nothing fancy.
Just a phone call and a few very silly jokes.
But think about salt. What is
salt? Nothing fancy. Nothing too special (unless you buy one of those strange
sea-salt things with the crystals that you have to grind or a flavored salt to
go with your popcorn or garlic salt! Eegads… I’m so glad Jesus didn’t say we
were supposed to be celery salt).
What I’m trying to say is
this: We are called to be salt of the
earth. Salt is common and simple and often goes unnoticed, except in its
absence. It may not be essential, but it
adds flavor and without many foods seem flavorless. I wonder if part of what Jesus was telling
his disciples was this: wherever you go, add flavor. Be a source of joy. Be a
source of renewal.
It doesn’t take
much. Another example I often think of
is this: A few years ago, I had back surgery. When I woke in the recovery
room I was shivering and confused and felt lost. The nurse was telling me
something and I remember a doctor (or someone) asking me a question, but most
of all I remember shivering. I guess it is how I react to the anesthesia. It
was a coldness inside me that I couldn’t escape. They put those warm blankets
over me and I just sat there waiting for my teeth to stop chattering. And suddenly,
my wife was standing next to me with a cup of hot black tea in a white
Styrofoam cup. And I remember taking that cup and looking at it –not sure if I
could drink it. But she encouraged me to take a sip and I did and oh, how good
it felt going down. As I finished it, I
remember looking up and she was already standing there with another cup. It was
nothing fancy. Nothing amazing. No cream. No sugar. Just plain old Lipton tea
and a cup of hot water. I don’t remember a word she said or the doctors. But, I
remember how she kept bringing me those cups of tea. And how good it felt just
to hold them; to sip on them. And I
remember I felt loved. I felt like I mattered to someone; that in this world so
full of pain and cold and confusion, someone cared. That’s the key to being salt. You don’t have
to save the world. You don’t have to fix anything. You just have to care. Just show up. Again and again. That’s what it means to be salt of the
earth. Small and humble; it may not get
noticed, but it makes all the difference.
So, what does this mean? I
will call this the knock knock theory. The
first step is to knock. Make time, seek someone
out; let them know that they matter. Maybe
your first “knock” is to get on your knees and say a prayer. Ask God to show you who needs salt. Is someone you know feeling down, running on
empty, truly losing hope? You may not be
able to fix anything for them, possibly you shouldn’t even try, but you can let
them know they matter. Ask them to talk;
ask them about their life, their experiences, their dreams, or their favorite
book. Maybe offer them a hot cup of tea (and a ginger snap). If you can’t think
of anything else to say, ask them who was their favorite teacher in middle school. You may be surprised by their answer… and
delighted by what they remember. If
nothing else, just sit with them, in silence. Drink your tea, eat your cookie
and don’t say a word. That’s okay, too.
The first time will feel
odd. It will be awkward. The second time, too. Possibly, even the third. But keep it
up. The key is consistency. And that takes time. With time and
consistency, that person will begin to know that you care. They will know that
they matter. And that is the key to
hope. And I guess that’s the second “knock.” It can’t be a one-time thing. You
have to knock again. And again. And again.
And
I think there’s a parable about that, too (cf.
Luke 11:5-8 & 18:1-8).
And don’t worry that
you don’t have anything to say or anything to offer. Remember, Jesus doesn’t ask
you to be the pot roast or the scrambled eggs or even the tofurkey. Those come and go. We aren’t called to come and go. We are
called to be there, on the table, every day, every night, every meal. We are called not to be the
roast goose Bernoise, but the salt that gives it flavor. The friend who gives hope. You may not change
the world, but you just might change someone’s life. And you know what, that may be even
better.
