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Proper 21

Mark 9
38 “Teacher,” said John, “we saw someone driving out demons in your name and we told him to stop, because he was not one of us.”
39 “Do not stop him,” Jesus said. “For no one who does a miracle in my name can in the next moment say anything bad about me, 40 for whoever is not against us is for us. 41 Truly I tell you, anyone who gives you a cup of water in my name because you belong to the Messiah will certainly not lose their reward.
50 “Salt is good, but if it loses its saltiness, how can you make it salty again? Have salt among yourselves, and be at peace with each other.”


Come lunch time, when you say ‘pass the salt,’ ponder the importance of this common substance.

Salt (sodium chloride) is essential to life, and both as a means to regulate the fluid balance in your body, and as basic component of taste. But you can get too much of a good thing: salt contributes to high blood pressure and stroke.

Salt had been mined and refined for thousands of years, including a saltworks in China that dates back to 6,000 BC. The word ‘salary’ comes for the root for salt, owing to an early Roman practice of paying soldiers in salt.

Salt is political too. Mahatma Gandhi led thousands to the sea to make salt in defiance of British law, a key step in Indian independence. And some argue that one of the factors in the outcome of the US Civil War was Northern control of salt mines, and the abundant supply found around Syracuse, NY, then known as ‘The Salt City.’

Salt can be manipulated for good. The worldwide struggle against iodine deficiency has been largely addressed though iodized salt. Countries such as France add fluoride to salt, since water fluoridation is not practiced. Here in Canada, our largest salt company (Windsor) adds inverted maple syrup to their salt, but it’s not clear why. Maybe it’s meant to differentiate them from their hated rivals over at Sifto.

Opening your Bible, you will also find salt. In Genesis 19 we meet poor old Lot’s wife, who becomes a pillar of salt when she looks back at the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. In Judges 9, the judge Abimelech conquered Shechem and salted the surrounding fields to make the place uninhabitable, something the Roman General Scipio did to Carthage during the Third Punic War.

Jesus calls his followers the ‘salt of the earth,’ St. Paul says ‘let your conversation be full of grace and seasoned with salt,’ and remembering from earlier this month, James says that a brackish spring is useless, and not really a spring at all.

Finally, Jesus has an extended conversation with the disciples in Mark 9, telling them to forget about who might be greatest, instructing them to lob off various body parts to avoid being disobedient, and reminding them that “Salt is good, but if it loses its saltiness, how can you make it salty again?” Like Paul he says “Have salt among yourselves, and be at peace with each other.”

So what has salt taught us, aside from the fact that your minister has deep affection for Wikipedia? The overall lesson seems to be that salt is a good thing, but like all good things, you can have too much of a good thing. Salt is both essential to living and potentially dangerous.

But for Jesus and Paul, metaphorical salt is only good. Being the ‘salt of the earth’ was high praise then and remains so today. The phrase follows on the Sermon on the Mount, and as Jesus is describing those blessed--the peacemakers, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness--we get a real sense of who deserves the honourific ‘salt.’

Now while Jesus was the Son of God, he was no scientist. It seems there is a lively debate whether it is true that salt can lose its saltiness. Sodium chloride is a mineral, and chemically stable as a result, and therefore cannot ‘lose’ its saltiness, its essential nature as salt.

Of course, just when one scientist decides he is clever, another steps in an says ‘not so fast.’ Salt in Jesus’ day was rock salt, a mix of sodium chloride and other components. Exposed to humidity, the sodium chloride would be removed, leaving only the non-salty component parts. It would look and feel like salt, minus the saltiness. Thank you, science. Or, take that, science! I’m confused.

So leaving behind science and looking instead at linguistics, our metaphorical salt speaks to who we truly are. If we are to remain ‘salt of the earth,’ and seasoning our speaking with salt, we need to hone in on that this means to our identity as believers. We need to find our inner salt, the good kind, not the kind that Dr. Jim will warn you about.

I can think of no better place to begin than baptism. Marked as God’s own, we are baptized and put on Christ. We are baptized into his death, Paul says, because baptism into a death like his will surely result in a resurrection like his (Roman 6). We are cleansed in the waters of baptism (1 Peter 3) and saved though the power of Christ to transform us.

It was the great Martin Luther who said “Remember your baptism and be glad,” an idea that strengthens us but also poses a great challenge. Being literal, few believers--in Luther’s day or now---can remember their baptism. Some came to Christ later, but the majority appeared at the font as infants and literally cannot remember.

But let’s not be literal today, instead using a symbolic remembering befitting the symbolic action that took place at this font a few moments ago. We can remember our baptism and be glad much in the way we celebrate with Baby Bentley today and express gladness that God has send him (and all children) as a gift among us. He is newly marked as Christ’s own, and helps remind us that we too are so marked.

Unless we forget. Not a literal forgetting, since we get periodic reminders in the shape of babies and toddlers. But a symbolic forgetting, where we begin to dismiss baptism from our consciousness or caring. And just why does this matter?

Why indeed. In fact, the answer is why, meaning the why question, the one that appears from time to time when we go about being good.

You refuse to accept too much change at the check-out, and the first question is ‘why?’
You drive your friend to an appointment, then another, and still another, and your other friend asks ‘why?’
You spend 15 years giving a warm meal to hungry people in Weston, and someone is bound to ask ‘why?’

Why? The first and ready answer is usually something like “it’s the right thing to do.” Fair enough. You might lift up the persistent stereotype and say “we’re Canadian, a nation of self-effacing do-gooders.” Ouch. Or maybe you’ve get all new-agey and say something about paying-it-forward, a good movie title, but not really enough to create a personal philosophy from.

Seldom do we say “because of my baptism.” Or because at baptism “I put on Christ” and he lives in me. Or that beneath the waters of baptism “I died to self” and emerged from the waters a new person.

Now, you are thinking, “you sir are a so-called theologian, and have the benefit of all that highfalutin learning and the bloated library and spouse who seems addicted to school. I’m just a humble believer, without the above.”

UK broadcaster Richard Coles described an argument he had with a friend who insisted that it is necessary to develop a system of universal ethics that doesn’t have religion at it’s root. Okay, Richard said, go ahead: define a universal ethic that doesn’t have religion at it’s root. Fine, his friend said, I will: “Do unto other as you would have them do unto you.”

So when the non-believers can mistakenly quote Jesus, we can certainly do it on purpose. How could we not, since after all, we are salt of the earth. Amen.

posted by michael jacob kooiman @ 2:13 PM