"You are the salt of the earth." "You are a lamp and the light of the world." The passage from The Sermon on the Mount read by Doug this morning is familiar to most of us. We hear the words often. We read them. We sing them. We teach them to our children and hope they are inspired. Initially, the words make us feel good. They carry importance. Who wouldn’t want to be thought of as the salt, the salsa, the zest of the earth? Who wouldn’t want to be a bright light that illumines the world? But how realistic is that? Jesus didn’t say, "You are the salt of your fishing crew or your school yard or your church group." He didn’t say, "You are the light of your neighborhood or your office staff." His vision was much grander than that. He used the words "earth" and "world" – certainly the entire universe to people of his day and maybe even ours as well! We can think of a few contemporaries who might qualify as that kind of salt and light – Gandhi, Desmond Tutu, Mother Theresa, Martin Luther King, Jr., but how could Jesus possibly have meant just run-of-the-mill people like James the Fisherman or Matthew the tax collector or you with a career in finance or education or me as a Presbyterian minister? It seems like more than we can possibly be or do even if we teamed up together as a congregation. How can we be the Light of the World with all our other responsibilities?

So, after the initial excitement when I’ve heard those words about being the salt and the light, I slowly begin to feel overwhelmed. I find that I lose spirit; I resign myself to being just the cinnamon rather than the salt or the dimmer switch rather than the lght. I pull back from the responsibility and tell myself that someone else will have to be the lamp and the spice for the world. It is enough work for me just to live day to day, to keep track of my adult children and to worry about my aging mother, to try to keep up with the news and to make sure that I vote, to get my bills paid and check on a sick friend. I’m no Mother Teresa, no Martin Luther King, Jr., no Dr. Paul Farmer devoting my life to the health of poor Haitians, no Myrna Mack dying for indigenous justice in Guatemala. I can’t possibly be the salt of the earth or the light of the world. I find myself thinking, "Jesus, it is just too much to ask! I am a meek person who jumps at each loud plane going overhead as I worry about the next terrorist attack. Someone else will have to be your salt and your light for the world. "

Instead, it is Jesus’ "Blessing" words, also from the Sermon on the Mount, that speak to me, that comfort me. I need that comfort. After recruiting his disciples, Matthew’s gospel tells us that Jesus began his ministry by comforting and healing both emotional wounds and physical ones. People were fascinated and hopeful when they heard of him, curious to know if he could cure them of their pain or disease, epilepsy or paralysis or psychological problems. They came from Jerusalem and Damascus and many other towns and followed him throughout the Galilee area around the lake until he gathered them on a hill near Capernaum and began to speak to them. His words were probably as extreme and different from the culture of the time as they are today. The common belief was that if one was healthy or successful in family or business, it was because God willed it and God rewarded them. If one was ill or had a run of bad luck, he deserved it or was experiencing it as a punishment for sins of his parents. Possessions or status were understood as a form of blessing which is an idea that has a vaguely familiar ring about it today. In a society controlled politically by the Roman Empire and religiously by the scribes and Pharisees, Jesus’ audience was filled with people who felt they had little control over their own lives. So they all settled on that grassy hillside overlooking the Galilee Lake and Jesus said the most radical things to them that were in some deep way comforting. The Greek word for "Blessed" can also be translated "Fortunate". So Jesus began:

Jesus referred to poor in the human spirit. Most of us have experienced it at one time or another. It is the feeling we have when we have lost our hope, when we have lost our initiative. It can begin when we stretch and stress ourselves to accomplish something more, to save more money or to succeed further at our job but we find that we just can’t make it. We lose our self–identity and dignity and eventually our self-esteem is compromised. It’s a very lonely feeling because we have lost the self that we knew. For those of us who have been through divorce, there comes a time in the process when we realize that nothing we might say or do can repair the broken relationship. We can only to let go and trust God to be with us through the process of the restoring of our spirit.

I invite you now to take just a few quiet moments to remember a time, it might even be now, when your felt poor in spirit.

If it was a time in your past, remind yourself of the experience that helped you know the restoration of your spirit. In what way were you aware of God’s presence. If you are feeling poor in spirit now, invite God to walk with you, to be by your side, and offer the situation to God.
 

Next Jesus said,

It is a rare person in our world who hasn’t had reason to mourn. Most of us have had a loved one die, a family member or close friend. When that happens, a part of us dies, too, and we are never the same again. Death is a part of life and we can only avoid the grieving if we avoid loving one another, and what a lonely life that would be. It is not only physical death that causes us to mourn but as we go through life, especially in our older years, we suddenly realize that we can’t see as well, hear as well, remember as well, or do the things we used to enjoy. If we don’t recognize and let ourselves mourn these transitions, we easily become angry or cynical. I invite you to bring into your mind a time when you found yourself grieving a loss. As you moved through the experience, when did the sharp pain become a dull pain? Was there a time when you felt God’s comfort in the reality of your grief?

In the short and very beautiful Psalm 131, David may have been reflecting on a similar experience when he wrote:

Lastly for "the fortunates" that we examine this morning, Jesus said to his hearers:

This statement is just as hard to understand or believe today, as it would have been in Jesus’ time. Who wants to be thought of as meek? How could the meek possibly gain any kind of control, much less inherit the earth? When we hear the word "meek" the contemporary term "wimp" comes to mind along with the extreme of Jesus’ admonition to "turn the other cheek." Certainly, our presidential candidates nurture the image of being strong and decisive to gain our confidence and trust and that of the world, anything but an image of meek. Yet, the word meek suggests a life-style that blesses and enriches, that is gentle, unassuming, undemanding and certainly non-reactionary and non-violent. It is not unlike the way we understand God through the ministry of Jesus. It is possible to be meek and yet not retreat from confrontation or pressure but it takes a willingness to risk. There are those who are meek and powerful by standing firm for what they believe. The names mentioned earlier again come to mind: Gandhi, Mother Teresa, Martin Luther King, Jr,, Dr. Paul Farmer, Myrna Mack. In their own life times they might not inherit the earth but they move society in that direction of caring, uniting the world, humble before God. Recently, we saw examples in some of the whistle-blowers that called our attention to issues in our public service and corporate organizations. I know because you have told me of people in this congregation who, without violence, have stood up to issues in your workplace or community, who have taken a stand against behavior that threatens the lives of others and the health of our society. I invite you to think of such a time in your life. What gave you the strength to take a stand? Where was God in the process? What was the outcome of your position?

This morning, we have looked closely at these three Beatitudes: Blessed are the poor in spirit, Blessed are those who mourn, Blessed are the meek. If there has been a time in your life when you have experienced any one of those conditions, would you let us know by raising your hand? God identifies with us in these circumstances, offers blessing and walks with us. They are universal human experiences. People around the world have times when they feel poor in spirit, when they mourn the death of their loved ones, when they feel meek but understand the cost of taking a stand and are willing to do it for the greater good. In his Sermon on the Mount, Jesus followed the Beatitudes by reminding us that we are the salt and the light of the world. It is not the ethical elite who are the salt and the light, who can attest to God’s saving love. It is those of us who have been to the depths, who have wondered where God is, and who have experienced small or big resurrections in our own lives. We are the ones who can see the struggle in the eyes of another, who can identify with the pain of a child in Afghanistan or a mother in Darfur or a father in Marin County who needs to know God’s loving presence.

You are the salt of the earth. You are the light of the world. All of humanity needs your light. May it continue to shine.

Matthew 5:1-12

When Jesus saw the crowds, he went up the mountain and after he sat down, his disciples came to him. Then he began to speak, and taught them, saying: "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

"Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted,

"Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth,

"Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for justice, for they will be filled.

"Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.

"Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.

"Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.

"Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

"Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you."

Each day of the week choose the Beatitude that most speaks to your life that day. Which one catches your interest? Which one reflects a matter going on in your life this week?

In a quiet comfortable location, empty your head of thoughts and offer a place for God’s Spirit to be with you. Allow yourself several minutes to let go of the chatter in your mind and to welcome and be aware of God’s presence.

Read or recite the words of the Beatitude that you selected today. Say it slowly several times as you would a mantra.

What thoughts about your own life come to mind in this Beatitude?

What are you feeling as you think of your own life experience in relation to these words? How does your heart want to respond to the feelings?

What does the promise at the end of the Beatitude say to you about your experience? What would you like to say to God about that promise?

As part of your meditation and reflection on the Beatitudes, make note of a sentence or two each day, a question or a thought, an intersection of the Beatitude with your life and God’s presence.

"It is the profoundest healing: not the unrealistic expectation that I will be cured of every illness or pain I suffer in life, but discovering that no matter what I face I can cry with the full force of my soul to the source and center of all that is and I will be heard and sustained in ways that grant to me an indestructible value and dignity. To trust this great truth with all that I am is to know what it means to be healed by faith in God.