Sunday, February 8, 2026
First Congregational Church of Cheshire
© the Rev. Dr. James Campbell
Matthew 5:13-20
“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. No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but 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 fulfill. 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.
My middle school English teacher absolutely terrorized everyone. But I loved her. And I loved her, in part, because she so demanding. Mrs. Walter had us diagramming Shakespeare in the 7th grade! And she was famous for her pop quizzes. She would say things like: “Take out a sheet of paper and list the 18 common prepositions. You have three minutes. Go!” It was thrilling!
And then one day, long before family conferences were a thing, my father simply announced at dinner that he had taken a new church and that we would be moving to a new city within a couple of months. The next day, I went to tell Mrs. Walter the news. She listened carefully, reassured me that I would be fine, and then she organized a grand going away party for me. And as I walked out of that school for the last time, I vowed that I would never forget her. And I didn’t.
Fifteen years after that initial goodbye, I invited Mrs. Walter and her husband to my ordination. They didn’t RSVP, but sure enough, when it was all over, there they stood in the receiving line. They had driven four hours one way just to be there. Well, I was so overcome at the sight of her that I burst into tears, right there in front of God and everybody. And then Mrs. Walter took me by both shoulders, looked me straight in the eye, and in her English teacher voice of authority said: “You can be anything you want to be. You can go anywhere you want to go.”
I don’t think I actually believed that back then, but her words took root in my heart, as words so often do. Because words are living things, and so what we say to each other and about each other have the power to either give life or to destroy it.
The Gospel lesson today is full of life-giving words. This passage is a continuation of the Sermon on the Mount, where Jesus said things like “Blessed are you poor in spirit, for yours is the kingdom of heaven.” “Blessed are you who mourn, for you will be comforted.” “Blessed are you meek, for you will inherit the earth.”
But then Jesus shifts gears dramatically. And instead of referencing the people primarily by their frailties (poor, mourning, and meek), he identifies them for what else they actually are. He looked out at these largely poor, mostly illiterate, and oppressed people and said: “You are the salt of the earth… You are the light of the world…”
These words of Jesus always startle me a bit because they seem so counter to all that we have been told, especially at church. We’re happy to proclaim that Jesus is the light of the world. But when it comes to humans, we take a far dimmer view. Instead, we define ourselves and everyone else by all that we are not. And the only way that we can make sense of these words is by saying that they must be proscriptive as opposed to descriptive. In other words, this is Jesus telling us to be better – to become salt and to become light.
But that is not what he said. Instead, Jesus simply announced an identity that is already inherent in us: “You ARE the salt of the earth.” “You ARE the light of the world.”
OK, pastor, but didn’t Jesus also warn us about losing our saltiness and hiding our light. True enough. But in order to lose saltiness, you had to be salty in the first place. And in order to hide your light, you had to be light in the first place.
But this is largely a lost teaching of Christianity, and mostly because of our obsession with so-called Original Sin. We get this notion from the Roman Church, out of which all Protestants came. But that’s not the only faithful way to think about humans. The Celtic Christians and modern-day Franciscans and Eastern Orthodoxies don’t build their theology from that foundation. Instead, they start with something called Original Blessing.
It's an idea that comes from the Creation account in the book of Genesis. You will remember that when, after God created each thing, he pronounced it good. And when God got to humans, he pronounced us VERY GOOD. And that means that before anything else we might be because of our sins, we are first and foremost made in the divine image. There is goodness inherent in us. We are light and we are salt in a world lacking in both.
But it’s a hard sell, because I think that we’re actually in love with the notion that the world is a dark and dangerous place. That fear serves our purposes. It moves the markets. It lets others take charge. And we can pretend as if there is nothing we can do.
But Jesus said: “You are the salt of the earth. You are the light of the world.”
In the ancient world, salt was a very precious commodity. Entire empires were built out of the exportation of salt. Salt was sometimes even used as money. Salt was used to preserve food. It was sprinkled on sacrifices and understood as a metaphor for wisdom. Salt was rubbed on newborn children as a blessing. So, when Jesus proclaimed, “You are the salt of the earth” it was a declaration of our God-given and innate ability to flavor and preserve and bless the world around us.
The light metaphor is a little easier for us to understand. We all know that without light, everything dies. Turning on a light in a dark room banishes fear. Light helps us to navigate. So, when Jesus said, “You are the light of the world” it was a declaration of our God-given and innate ability to facilitate growth and banish fear and bring understanding.
But can we believe it?
Well, I am not sure that believing it actually matters. Because the Christian faith is not really about what we think. It’s about what we do. As they say in Alcoholics Anonymous, “It works if you work it.” So maybe friends, these unbelievable words of Jesus would be more believable to us if we thought about them less and acted on them more.
That’s what the Gospel of Jesus is all about. It’s a religion of “Follow me. Do what I do. Love who I love. Defend the weak. Feed the poor. Protect the stranger.” And when you do, your light will shine. And when you do, you will preserve and bless the world.
That first audience no doubt was as incredulous as we are. “What did he say,” they whispered. “Is he talking to us?” “We are the salt of the earth… we are the light of the world?” Is he nuts? Has he seen the state of the world? Does he know that we have the boot of Rome on our necks?”
He did. But he also knew who they really were. And he knows who we are too.
Mrs. Walter took me by the shoulders, looked me in the eye, and told me what she could see. So, take us by the shoulders, Jesus. Tell us again what you see. And then send us into the world, bright and briny with the Kingdom of God.
Sunday, February 8, 2026
First Congregational Church of Cheshire
© the Rev. Dr. James Campbell
Matthew 5:13-20
“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. No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but 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 fulfill. 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.
My middle school English teacher absolutely terrorized everyone. But I loved her. And I loved her, in part, because she so demanding. Mrs. Walter had us diagramming Shakespeare in the 7th grade! And she was famous for her pop quizzes. She would say things like: “Take out a sheet of paper and list the 18 common prepositions. You have three minutes. Go!” It was thrilling!
And then one day, long before family conferences were a thing, my father simply announced at dinner that he had taken a new church and that we would be moving to a new city within a couple of months. The next day, I went to tell Mrs. Walter the news. She listened carefully, reassured me that I would be fine, and then she organized a grand going away party for me. And as I walked out of that school for the last time, I vowed that I would never forget her. And I didn’t.
Fifteen years after that initial goodbye, I invited Mrs. Walter and her husband to my ordination. They didn’t RSVP, but sure enough, when it was all over, there they stood in the receiving line. They had driven four hours one way just to be there. Well, I was so overcome at the sight of her that I burst into tears, right there in front of God and everybody. And then Mrs. Walter took me by both shoulders, looked me straight in the eye, and in her English teacher voice of authority said: “You can be anything you want to be. You can go anywhere you want to go.”
I don’t think I actually believed that back then, but her words took root in my heart, as words so often do. Because words are living things, and so what we say to each other and about each other have the power to either give life or to destroy it.
The Gospel lesson today is full of life-giving words. This passage is a continuation of the Sermon on the Mount, where Jesus said things like “Blessed are you poor in spirit, for yours is the kingdom of heaven.” “Blessed are you who mourn, for you will be comforted.” “Blessed are you meek, for you will inherit the earth.”
But then Jesus shifts gears dramatically. And instead of referencing the people primarily by their frailties (poor, mourning, and meek), he identifies them for what else they actually are. He looked out at these largely poor, mostly illiterate, and oppressed people and said: “You are the salt of the earth… You are the light of the world…”
These words of Jesus always startle me a bit because they seem so counter to all that we have been told, especially at church. We’re happy to proclaim that Jesus is the light of the world. But when it comes to humans, we take a far dimmer view. Instead, we define ourselves and everyone else by all that we are not. And the only way that we can make sense of these words is by saying that they must be proscriptive as opposed to descriptive. In other words, this is Jesus telling us to be better – to become salt and to become light.
But that is not what he said. Instead, Jesus simply announced an identity that is already inherent in us: “You ARE the salt of the earth.” “You ARE the light of the world.”
OK, pastor, but didn’t Jesus also warn us about losing our saltiness and hiding our light. True enough. But in order to lose saltiness, you had to be salty in the first place. And in order to hide your light, you had to be light in the first place.
But this is largely a lost teaching of Christianity, and mostly because of our obsession with so-called Original Sin. We get this notion from the Roman Church, out of which all Protestants came. But that’s not the only faithful way to think about humans. The Celtic Christians and modern-day Franciscans and Eastern Orthodoxies don’t build their theology from that foundation. Instead, they start with something called Original Blessing.
It's an idea that comes from the Creation account in the book of Genesis. You will remember that when, after God created each thing, he pronounced it good. And when God got to humans, he pronounced us VERY GOOD. And that means that before anything else we might be because of our sins, we are first and foremost made in the divine image. There is goodness inherent in us. We are light and we are salt in a world lacking in both.
But it’s a hard sell, because I think that we’re actually in love with the notion that the world is a dark and dangerous place. That fear serves our purposes. It moves the markets. It lets others take charge. And we can pretend as if there is nothing we can do.
But Jesus said: “You are the salt of the earth. You are the light of the world.”
In the ancient world, salt was a very precious commodity. Entire empires were built out of the exportation of salt. Salt was sometimes even used as money. Salt was used to preserve food. It was sprinkled on sacrifices and understood as a metaphor for wisdom. Salt was rubbed on newborn children as a blessing. So, when Jesus proclaimed, “You are the salt of the earth” it was a declaration of our God-given and innate ability to flavor and preserve and bless the world around us.
The light metaphor is a little easier for us to understand. We all know that without light, everything dies. Turning on a light in a dark room banishes fear. Light helps us to navigate. So, when Jesus said, “You are the light of the world” it was a declaration of our God-given and innate ability to facilitate growth and banish fear and bring understanding.
But can we believe it?
Well, I am not sure that believing it actually matters. Because the Christian faith is not really about what we think. It’s about what we do. As they say in Alcoholics Anonymous, “It works if you work it.” So maybe friends, these unbelievable words of Jesus would be more believable to us if we thought about them less and acted on them more.
That’s what the Gospel of Jesus is all about. It’s a religion of “Follow me. Do what I do. Love who I love. Defend the weak. Feed the poor. Protect the stranger.” And when you do, your light will shine. And when you do, you will preserve and bless the world.
That first audience no doubt was as incredulous as we are. “What did he say,” they whispered. “Is he talking to us?” “We are the salt of the earth… we are the light of the world?” Is he nuts? Has he seen the state of the world? Does he know that we have the boot of Rome on our necks?”
He did. But he also knew who they really were. And he knows who we are too.
Mrs. Walter took me by the shoulders, looked me in the eye, and told me what she could see. So, take us by the shoulders, Jesus. Tell us again what you see. And then send us into the world, bright and briny with the Kingdom of God.
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