Reflection by The Rev'd Dr. Deborah Broome

Called From Performance to Transformation: Salt and Light for Today

[Jesus said] “You are the salt of the earth, but if salt has lost its taste, how can its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything but is thrown out and trampled under foot.

“You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid. People do not light a lamp and put it under the bushel basket; rather, they put it on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.

“Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have come not to abolish but to fulfil. For truly I tell you, until heaven and earth pass away, not one letter, not one stroke of a letter, will pass from the law until all is accomplished. Therefore, whoever breaks one of the least of these commandments and teaches others to do the same will be called least in the kingdom of heaven, but whoever does them and teaches them will be called great in the kingdom of heaven. For I tell you, unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.             Matthew 5:13–20

Spirituality isn’t a performance – it’s a life of discipleship that doesn’t measure faith by how it looks but by how it loves.  Jesus’ words in Matthew’s Gospel this week invite us to step away from performing religion and towards living the kind of life that allows God to shape us from the inside out.  When that happens, the world around us begins to change.

Jesus says to his disciples, “You are the salt of the earth… You are the light of the world.”  These aren’t commands: he’s not saying, “Try your hardest to become salty,” or “Do your best to shine.”  Jesus simply declares who we already are.  Identity comes first.  Our behaviour flows from identity, not the other way around.

Salt and light are everyday things, but their importance is in what they do.  Salt preserves, strengthens, flavours. Light reveals, guides, comforts. Both only fulfil their purpose when they’re out in the open, doing what they’re meant to do.  Salt left sitting in the jar doesn’t flavour anything.  A lamp hidden under a basket doesn’t help anyone see.  In the same way, faith that hides itself away – kept private, safe, or respectable – can’t do the work God intends it to do.

Jesus’ teaching comes just after the Beatitudes, where he blesses the meek, the merciful, the pure in heart, the peacemakers.  And then he says, “This is who you are now – salt and light.” Let’s not miss this: the kind of life Jesus blesses is meant to be visible.  Not performative, not showy, but visible.  Lived out in real interactions, real decisions, real public witness.  Christian discipleship is always public, never hidden.

Sometimes, though, we get tangled up in the idea that visibility means perfection, or that shining is about impressing others.  But Jesus immediately heads off this temptation. “Do not think,” he says, “that I have come to abolish the law or the prophets; I have come not to abolish but to fulfil.”  He’s not dismissing the rules, he’s deepening them.  Focusing on keeping every rule perfectly can become its own kind of performance – but ignoring the rules misses God’s heart.  The fulfilment Jesus talks about is a way of living that reflects God’s compassion, justice, and covenant love. It’s about a deeper integrity that goes right to the heart.

This is where Isaiah and Paul help us hear Jesus clearly.  Isaiah 58:1-12 speaks to a community who are doing all the right religious activities – fasting and praying – but whose lives are detached from compassion. Their religious practices haven’t touched their hearts.  God says the problem isn’t their rituals; it’s the lack of justice and mercy beneath them.  True worship shows itself in feeding the hungry, sheltering the homeless, caring for the vulnerable.  When people live faithfully “then your light shall break forth like the dawn,” God promises.  Justice makes God’s people shine, love – of God and others – is transformative.  Jesus’ teaching stands firmly in that same tradition of faith made visible through compassion.

Paul writes (1 Corinthians 2:1-12) to a church caught up in performance of a different sort – eloquence, cleverness, wisdom, spiritual impressiveness.  He reminds them that the Christian life isn’t about looking good, but about receiving God’s grace. “I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ, and him crucified,” he says.  Transformation begins with receiving, not with trying to look good or holy or clever, and it grows through the Holy Spirit, not through our own polish or technique.

So when Jesus calls us the salt of the earth and the light of the world, he’s naming what God’s grace is already making us, and inviting us to live it out together.  The “you” in Jesus’ words is plural – it’s not about individual mission, but taking seriously our calling to be the church in the world.  What this looks like in practice can vary: advocating for the vulnerable, volunteering with social services, changing how we speak.

Through Isaiah, Paul, and Jesus, God calls us away from performance and into transformation. Isaiah says, “Stop the show; start the justice.” Paul says, “Don’t rely on polish; rely on the Spirit.”  Jesus says, “Let your light shine.”  Not for applause, but so others may catch a glimpse of God’s goodness.  There’s an invitation here: to walk through the week seeing everything through the lens of “Jesus Christ, and him crucified” – the self‑giving love that changes the world – trusting that Christ himself will help us live the identity he’s already given us.  At the end of each service we hear, “Go now to love and serve the Lord.” That’s Jesus saying, “Go be salt; go be light.”