5th Sunday
Ordinary Time (A)
Matthew 5:13-16
This Sunday’s Readings
First Reading
Isaiah 58:7-10
In the work of justice, light shall break through darkness.
Responsorial Psalm
Psalm 112:4-9
The just person will be a light in the darkness.
Second Reading
1 Corinthians 2:1-5
Paul shows that he came to Corinth preaching Christ crucified.
Gospel Reading
Matthew 5:13-16
Jesus teaches that his disciples are to be the salt of the earth and the light of the world.
Jesus said to his disciples: “You are the salt of the earth. But if salt loses its taste, with what can it be seasoned? It is no longer good for anything but to be thrown out and trampled underfoot. You are the light of the world. A city set on a mountain cannot be hidden. Nor do they light a lamp and then put it under a bushel basket; it is set on a lampstand, where it gives light to all in the house. Just so, your light must shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your heavenly Father.
Background on the Gospel Reading
Following upon the teaching of the Beatitudes, Jesus uses the now familiar metaphors of salt and light to describe the life of discipleship. We take salt and light for granted in our society, but these commodities were more precious in ancient cultures. Just as now, salt was used in Jesus’ time for flavoring, as a preservative, and as a healing agent. Similarly, the widespread use of electricity in the modern world makes us less aware of the value and importance of light in our lives.
Still, our familiarity with this passage from Matthew’s Gospel speaks well to the abiding power of the imagery that Jesus presented. Jesus’ call to be salt for the earth and light for the world powerfully states our mission as Church and as Christians. Our commitment to social justice flows from the exhortation that Jesus gives us in today’s Gospel. Some of the activities that this commitment leads us to are given more concrete expression as the Corporal and Spiritual Works of Mercy. When we feed the hungry, clothe the naked, console those who mourn, and so on, we show ourselves to be the salt of the earth and the light of the world. When we do these things with the community of faith, the Church, we are indeed acting as “a city set on a mountain” that cannot be hidden!
The “good works” of the mission
Romeo Ballan, mccj
It is a universal pedagogical principle that “words fade away while examples sweep along”; that “a fact is worth a thousand words.” Jesus confirms this in his programme, announced in the Beatitudes (see the previous Sunday) and throughout the Sermon on the Mount. As the good teacher and the practical and effective preacher that he is, Jesus explains it by using the daily examples of the salt and the light (Gospel). The salt gives flavour to food, cauterizes wounds, preserves foodstuff, but if it loses power and flavour (i.e. its identity), it is no longer useful and is thrown away; salt that has lost its saltiness is a contradiction (v. 13). The same goes for the light: it is made to enlighten the people, the house, the streets and things… The lamp, the light, the city set on a hill (v. 14-15) are further images which clarify the message of Jesus: the light is made to shine; a light that is concealed or hidden is of no use to anyone. The salt and light, by their nature, tend to expand and radiate their presence, thus entailing an idea of universality.
Jesus applies these images, taken from our daily life, to the “good works” (in Greek, the beautiful works) of his followers who, immersed in the world, are called to give to and preserve the taste and the flavour of the Gospel for the realities of everyday life, to be points of reference for anyone who wanders in darkness, a drifter in search of a path. Of course, Jesus warns us, the motivation and purpose of the good works is not the complacent vanity of the disciple, but the glory of the Father (v. 16). The light is Jesus himself, “a light to enlighten the Gentiles” (Lk 2:32; LG 1). But the light of Christ does not shine in the world if the disciples are not themselves light. The disciple has-and-is light only if he follows Him (John 8:12: Gospel refrain). Jesus esteems and trusts his disciples, he entrusts to them the mission to be salt and light: without them the earth would have no flavour or taste, the world would be in darkness, human life would be tasteless, incomprehensible, meaningless. Jesus asks his followers to share the most precious gift they have, namely their hope, which can give flavour to life and a little light to those who experience the night of trial.
Commenting on the image of the candlestick, St. John Chrysostom said: “I do not ask you to leave the city or to break your social relationships. Not at all; you stay in town: here it’s where you have to exercise virtue… The result would be a considerable benefit.” It is a message wholly missionary, valid for all situations of evangelization: it is the value of life witness which, according to the Vatican Council (see AG 11-12), is “the first form of evangelization” (RMi 42), as John Paul II recalls when presenting the road paths of the mission.
In many cases life witness is the only possible way of being missionaries, especially in contexts of Christian minority and persecution, and sometimes we can only be a grain of wheat that falls on to the ground and dies in the groove: the result will come later (see Jn 12:24). In the ’60s, which were particularly difficult years for the Church in Sudan (expulsions, restrictions, prison), to the missionaries who were wondering what to do, the Congregation of Propaganda Fide replied on behalf of the Pope with a message that can be summarised in “three Ps”: presence, patience, prayer. If we add poverty, we have the complete summary of the life witness. When this reaches the point of martyrdom, the light of love and forgiveness shines brighter, enriched by the power of intercession.
The I Reading indicates twice what are the “good works” pleasing to the heart of God: to give bread to the hungry, to clothe the naked, to shelter the homeless, to relief oppression … (see 7.9). The works of mercy have a language of their own, they shine light through the darkness (v. 8.10) and will be the assessment in the Last Judgement (Mt 25). These works – together with the commitment for peace, justice, human rights and human promotion – have always accompanied the mission of the Church with their characteristic eloquence. But on one condition: love is and remains the driving force of the mission, that is, gratuitous, without proselytising ambitions or other interests (see RMi 42.60). Even prayer, praise and worship are acceptable to God only if they go together with the witness of charity and apostolate (see SC 15). Conversions and baptisms will follow later, as gifts of the Spirit, when He wills.
Missionary activity, Paul teaches us (II Reading), as witness to the mystery of God and proclamation of Christ crucified (v. 1.2), is effected by weak and fragile means, “in weakness and in much fear and trepidation” (v. 3), counting, though, “on the power of the Spirit” (v. 4), so that the faith of new believers “should not depend on human philosophy but on the power of God” (v. 5). We are faced with a page of intense missionary activity.
How Could One Become Salt And Light?
Fernando Armellini
Introduction
‘Today, there is no more faith. Once there was so much.’ How do you measure faith? Referring to statistics, do you simply count the number of those who participate in Sunday Mass, receive the sacraments, marry in the Church, or send their children to catechism? The imposing crowds can perhaps assess it at ecclesial gatherings. How do we know when it increases or decreases? Is it through solemn celebrations with their attention to minute details and flawless execution that Christians appear to be the salt of the earth and light of the world?
A wonderful parable of Jesus (Mt 25:31-46) reveals how God’s evaluation methods are different from ours. Instead of paying attention to religious practice, loyalty to the tradition, the scrupulous observance of ritual, God is interested in concrete adhesion to his plan of love for people. Those who share their bread with the hungry and water with the thirsty, who dress the naked and house the homeless, assist the sick, and defend those who suffer injustice shine in the world as beautiful rays of God’s light.
The criteria are clear, yet many continue to reduce their relationship with God to a scrupulous fulfillment of religious practice. This could prove to be a tragic illusion. Only the righteous, those who believe in the Beatitudes proposed by Jesus, are “like the light of dawn: it grows in splendor until noon” (Prov 4:18).
First Reading: Isaiah 58:7-10
Thus says the Lord: Share your bread with the hungry, shelter the oppressed and the homeless; clothe the naked when you see them, and do not turn your back on your own. Then your light shall break forth like the dawn, and your wound shall quickly be healed; your vindication shall go before you, and the glory of the Lord shall be your rear guard. Then you shall call, and the Lord will answer, you shall cry for help, and he will say: Here I am! If you remove from your midst oppression, false accusation and malicious speech; if you bestow your bread on the hungry and satisfy the afflicted; then light shall rise for you in the darkness, and the gloom shall become for you like midday.
The practice of fasting is universal. Since ancient times people fasted when confronted with situations of danger or struck by misfortune, when hail or locusts destroyed the crops and when the rains were late. This voluntary sacrifice was intended to move God, appease him, and get him to put an end to his punishment. During days of fast, they wore torn clothes, anointed their heads with dust and ashes, renounced sexual intercourse, took no bath, went barefoot, and slept on the floor.
The reading today is placed in the context of one of these moments of fasting. We are in the fifth century B.C., the postexilic period. The people return from Babylon, but the promises made by the prophets are slow to be realized. Instead of the long-awaited peaceful community, a society dominated by careerists and profiteers is established. Violence, harassment, and discord are everywhere. To convince God to step in and remedy the situation, rigorous and severe national fasting is recommended.
Nothing changes; everything continues as before, and to many, suspicion pervades that the practice of fasting is ineffective. Do we wonder why we should fast if the Lord does not listen? It is as if we had not subjected ourselves to humiliation and sacrifice.
Today’s reading is a response to this question. The fault of the failure of change—says the prophet—is not of the Lord, but the wrong way of fasting, which is reduced to sterile self-punishment or painful penance. This fast does not get any result because it subjects the body to hardship but does not change the heart.
True fasting that sees prodigious results consists of sharing our bread with the hungry, sheltering the homeless, clothing the naked, not shifting our gaze away from those who share our flesh, although of different skin color and with different cultures and religions—live alongside us in inhumane conditions (v. 7). This new behavior produces miracles: in the short term, it heals the wounds of society, solves difficult situations, creates fraternal rapport, and gives birth to a community where justice and the glory of God shine (v. 8).
In the second part of the reading (vv. 9-10), another characteristic of true fasting is shown: the commitment to get rid of all forms of oppression, the pointing of a finger, and speaking arrogantly. It is not enough to give alms. It is necessary to end all attitudes of ambitious superiority that cause humiliation, injustice, and discrimination. After this new clarification, the prophet resumes the issue of sharing bread with an almost excessive insistence. He wants the people to assimilate the interest, concern, and solicitude of God towards those who are hungry.
The conclusion of the reading introduces the theme of light that will be taken up in the Gospel: if you practice this new justice, “your light will shine in the darkness, and your gloom will become like midday.” The Israelites believed themselves to be the light of the world because of their devotion to God and impeccable religious practice: solemn liturgies, hymns and prayers, sacrifices, and burnt offerings. This was not the worship pleasing to the Lord. This was not the work that would make Israel the light of the world. It would be the practice of justice towards and love of people.
Second Reading: 1 Corinthians 2:1-5
When I came to you, brothers and sisters, proclaiming the mystery of God, I did not come with sublimity of words or of wisdom. For I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ, and him crucified. I came to you in weakness and fear and much trembling, and my message and my proclamation were not with persuasive words of wisdom, but with a demonstration of Spirit and power, so that your faith might rest not on human wisdom but on the power of God.
As we pointed out last Sunday, the Christians of Corinth did not belong to the upper social classes. They were all of humble origin, who do not count in society (1 Cor 1:26). Paul interprets this as a sign of God’s preference for the despised and unmerited people. His choice, however, should not be understood as a reversal of class (that would be new discrimination) but as a logical consequence of the love of God. He does not love those who boast of merit but those who need his love.
In today’s passage, the apostle takes up and develops this theme by comparing human wisdom with the power of God. He uses the concrete example of his person. He begins with a reminder of his preaching (vv. 1-2). He did not present himself in Corinth to teach a new doctrine. If he had done so, he would need to possess the ‘sublimity of language and wisdom.’ In Greece, as Plato said, wisdom and skills were appreciated to ‘investigate the truth as true; the care of the soul sustained by right reason.’ Every speech devoid of rationale and the prestigious resources of philosophical thought was ridiculed and considered ignorant, gullible, and naive religiosity.
In this cultural context, Paul announced a humanly absurd message: he asked for belief in a life project of an executed man. It was not just the content of his preaching that was outrageous. His very person—weak, fearful, unable to speak—was the least likely to succeed at such a large mission (vv. 3-5). In this regard, a joke circulated among the Corinthians that provoked a resentful reaction of the apostle. “His letters—it was said—are weighty and strong, but his bodily presence is weak, and his ability to make speeches is modest” (2 Cor 10:10).
Paul was conscious of his lack of oratory skill. He had had a demonstration in Athens when he tried unsuccessfully to convince his listeners by resorting to the sublime language of the philosophers (Acts 17:16-34). A year later, at Troas, he had a reconfirmation: during one of his sermons, a young man went to sleep and fell from the window (Acts 20:9).
Despite this lack of human support, the Gospel had been widely circulated in Corinth. Why? You may ask. It is because—says Paul—the Word of God is strong in itself, and its penetration into the heart does not depend on human means but by the “demonstration of the Spirit and his power.” The apostle does not refer to miracles that would have convinced the Corinthians to accept the Gospel. He refers to the fruit of the Spirit: the new form of life that, while amid human weakness and misery, had been adopted by many members of the community.
Gospel: Matthew 5:13-16
Jesus said to his disciples: “You are the salt of the earth. But if salt loses its taste, with what can it be seasoned? It is no longer good for anything but to be thrown out and trampled underfoot. You are the light of the world. A city set on a mountain cannot be hidden. Nor do they light a lamp and then put it under a bushel basket; it is set on a lampstand, where it gives light to all in the house. Just so, your light must shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your heavenly Father.”
In today’s Gospel, Jesus uses a series of images to define the disciples and their mission. He shows them primarily as the salt of the earth (v. 13).
The rabbis of Israel used to say: “The Torah—the holy Law given by God to his people—is like salt and the world cannot live without salt.” Taking up this image and applying it to the disciples, Jesus knows how to use an expression that may sound provocative. He does not deny the conviction of his people who believed the sacred Scriptures as “salt of the earth,” but says that also his disciples are, if they assimilate his word and let themselves be guided by the wisdom of his beatitudes.
Salt has many functions and Jesus probably intended to refer to all. The first and most immediate is that of giving flavor to foods. Since ancient times, salt has become the symbol of “wisdom.” Even today it is said that a person has “salt in his head” when he speaks wisely, or that a conversation has “no salt” when it is boring, devoid of content. Paul knows this symbolism. In fact, he recommends to the Colossians: “Let your conversation be always pleasant, seasoned with salt“ (Col 4:6).
Understood as such, the image indicates that the disciples must bring to the world a wisdom capable of giving flavor and meaning to life. Without the knowledge of the Gospel, what sense would life, joys and sorrows, smiles and tears, celebrations and mourning be? What dreams and hopes could nourish humans on this earth? It would be difficult to go beyond those suggested by Ecclesiastes: “It is better to eat, drink and enjoy the good things in the few days of life that God gives: this is the fate of man” (Ecl 5:17).
One who is imbued with the mind of Christ savors instead other joys, introduces experiences of new and ineffable happiness into the world, and offers to people the possibility of experiencing the same bliss of God.
Salt is not only used to give flavor to foods. It is also used to preserve food, to prevent them from becoming damaged.
This fact recalls the moral corruption of associating ideas with negative forces and evil spirits. Against them, the ancient Orientals fortify themselves by using salt. It is in this naïve belief that even today the ritual of spreading salt to immunize from the wicked and evil is connected.
The Christian is the salt of the earth: with one’s presence one is called upon to prevent corruption, not to allow society guided by wicked principles to rot and go into decay. It’s not difficult to see, for example, that, where no one reminds or presents the Gospel values, debauchery, hatred, violence, and oppression propagate. In a world where the inviolability of human life from its beginning to its natural end is doubted, the Christian believer is salt that reminds of its sacredness. Where sexuality, cohabitation, and adultery are trivialized, they are no longer called by their names. There the Christian reminds of the holiness the man-woman rapport and God’s plan for marital love. Where one seeks one’s own advantage, the disciple is salt that preserves, always recalling everyone the heroic proposal, the gift of self.
Salt was also used to confirm the inviolability of the pacts: the contractors were making the ritual of eating together bread and salt or salt only. This solemn agreement was called “covenant of salt.” The everlasting covenant stipulated by God with the dynasty of David (2Chr 13:5) is called by this name.
Christians are the salt of the earth also in this sense. We witness the indefectibility of God’s love: They show that no sin will ever damage the covenant of loyalty that binds God to people. They, with their lives, give proof that it is possible for people to respond to this love by letting themselves be guided by the Spirit.
The “parable” of the salt ends with a call to the disciples not to become “tasteless.” The image assumes a rather surprising connotation: the chemists ensure that salt is imperishable, and yet Jesus warns the disciples against the danger of losing their flavor. Although it may seem strange, Jesus considers them to be able to do something absurd, impossible, as ruining the salt. They can make the Gospel lose its flavor.
There’s only one way to make this mess: mix salt with another material that would affect its purity and genuineness. The Gospel has its own taste and one has to let it not be denaturalized, or else it is no longer Gospel.
The parable of the salt is told immediately after the “Beatitudes.” The Christian is salt if one accepts in full the proposals of the Master, without additions, changes, without the “however,” “if” and “but” with which one tries to soften them, to make them less demanding, and more workable.
For example, Jesus says that there is a need to share one’s assets, to turn the other cheek, to forgive seventy times seven. This is the characteristic taste of the salt of the Gospel. However, the temptation for us to add a bit of “common sense” looms always. One must not overdo but must also think of oneself. If one forgives others too much, they take advantage. One should not resort to violence unless it is necessary. It is in this way that the Gospel is “sweetened” and becomes viable, but it loses its flavor. It is the failure of the mission, stated metaphorically with the image of salt thrown on the street: it is trampled, as the dust to which no one pays attention or attaches any value.
The second function assigned to the disciples is that of being a city set on a hill (v. 14).
Even today, the look of one who walks the streets of Upper Galilee is attracted by the numerous villages, located on the tops of mountains and along the densely wooded hills. It is impossible not to notice them, and especially in spring, when the crimson anemones covering the countryside around them, seem delightful. The archaeological excavations almost always prove that the summits, on which they arise, were inhabited since the most remote times.
Jesus grew up in one of these villages. He pointed them to the disciples as an image of their mission. With their life based on new principles, they will draw the attention of the world.
It is not an invitation to make them noticed, to show off. Such an attitude would contradict the exhortation not to practice good deeds before people, to be seen, and not to sound a trumpet to call attention when they give alms (Mt 6:1-2).
The call of Jesus is in a famous passage from Isaiah where it is announced that the mountain of the house of the Lord “shall be set over the highest mountains and shall tower over the hills. All the nations shall stream to it. Many peoples will come because from Jerusalem the word of the Lord will come out” (Is 2:2-5).
From now on—Jesus ensures—that people will no longer look to Jerusalem but to the community of his disciples. They will attract the admiring glances of people if they have the courage to set their lives on his beatitudes.
Connected to the image of the mountain is that of light (vv. 14-16).
The rabbis said, “As oil brings light to the world, so Israel is the light of the world” and also “Jerusalem is light for the nations of the earth.” They were referring to the fact that Israel believed itself the depositary of the wisdom of the law that God, by the mouth of Moses, had revealed to his people.
A certain rabbi had an insight that not only the words of Holy Scripture but also the works of mercy were light. He claimed that the first order was given by God at the beginning of creation: “Let there be light!” referred not to a material light but to the works of the righteous.
Calling his disciples “light of the world” Jesus declares that the mission entrusted by God to Israel was destined to continue through them. It would have appeared in all its glory in their works of concrete, verifiable love. These are works that Jesus recommends to “show.” He does not want his disciples to limit themselves in proclaiming his word without engaging, compromising themselves and without committing their lives on this word.
The proof that people have been caught by this light will be when they give glory to the Father who is in heaven.
Their reaction, however, could also be the opposite and unexpected. They might get annoyed by the good works of the Christians.
One should not immediately assume that this is due to their malevolent disposition. Generally, it is not the good works that disturb them but the perception with some shades of exhibitionism, ambition, vanity, and self-satisfaction. These smudges unconsciously, even with the noblest intentions, deprive the good works of the most exquisite, sublime and divine feature: the sweet smell of apathy and total freedom.
The disciples are called to do good without expecting any praise, admiration, “their right hand should not know what the left is doing” (Mt 6:3). Praises should not be addressed to them but to God.
The last image is delightful: we are introduced to the humble home of an upper Galilee peasant where a lamp of clay in oil is lighted. It is put on an iron stand and placed on top so that it can illuminate even the most hidden corners of the house. No one would think of hiding it under a bowl.
The invitation is not to conceal, to veil the most challenging parts of the Gospel message. The disciples do not have to worry to defend or justify the proposals of Jesus. They just announce it, without fear of being ridiculed or persecuted. It will be for people as a lamp “shining in a dark place until the break of day, when the morning star shines in your hearts” (2 P 1:19).
READ: Your light must shine before others, so that they may see the good you do and praise your Father in heaven.
REFLECT: Think about the images that Jesus uses: salt, light, a city set on a mountain. We are made and meant to shine! Believe in the light of God in us. By living just and upright lives, we manifest the brightness and beauty of God.
PRAY: Let us get in touch with the light of God in us. Savor the peace and tranquility of living in the light. Let it radiate in our lives and that of others.
ACT: Let us express the joy we experience of living in the light of God. Share a smile and see how we all shine.
Fernando Armellini
Italian missionary and biblical scholar
https://sundaycommentaries.wordpress.com
