Salt and Light

February 8, 2026 homily on Isaiah 58:1-9a and Matthew 5:13-16 by Pastor Galen

“…let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.” — Matthew 5:16

Surviving the Cold

In the midst of a cold winter like the one we’re having now, many of us have been discovering new ways to survive the bitter temperatures. Maybe you have a favorite hot drink that you enjoy on especially cold days, or a favorite sweater you always reach for. 

When the power or heat goes out, we have to get even more creative. One of the professors at the seminary where I work told me that when the heat went out at her family’s house, they used their gas oven to heat bricks, which they then tucked into their beds at night to help stay warm.

For my part, I spent much of the day yesterday going around the parsonage, trying to seal up every drafty area I could find.

Salt of the Earth

But when it’s this cold, we start thinking about things we don’t normally think about. Such as salt. For the past few weeks I’ve been obsessing about where I could get more salt for our sidewalks, since our supply was getting very low. (Fortunately, I was able to stock up just before we ran out!)

So I found it somewhat humorous when I turned to the lectionary readings for today and came across Jesus’ words in the Gospel of Matthew: “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 underfoot” (Matthew 5:13). 

Biblical scholars have long debated exactly what Jesus meant here. What did he mean when he said his disciples are to be the “salt of the earth”? Are we meant to add flavor to the world, the way we use salt to season food today? Or are we meant to act as a preservative, protecting the world from decay, as salt was often used to preserve meat? 

In Roman times, salt was so valuable it was used to pay soldiers, which is where we get the word “salary”. So perhaps we as Christians are meant to add value to the world. On the other hand, salt was also mixed into manure to serve as fertilizer, helping crops grow. So maybe we are meant to help society flourish!

Which of these did Jesus mean? 

Perhaps it was all of the above, and more. It’s ironic that Jesus says salt that has lost its usefulness should be thrown on the ground and trampled underfoot, which is exactly what we do with salt in the winter to break up ice and snow!

No matter which meaning Jesus had in mind, the point seems clear: Christians are meant to be a positive influence on the world. Whether we’re breaking up ice so people can walk safely, preserving what is good, or helping life flourish, the world should be better because Christ’s followers are in it.

The reality, however, is that this is not how many people perceive Christians today. Many see Christianity as dangerously narrow-minded or exclusionary. Others see hypocrisy, that we preach love while supporting policies that marginalize the vulnerable, or they see Christians covering up abuse. They hear us say that God loves everyone, and then watch us act otherwise.

A City Set on a Hill

But Jesus wanted his followers to be known for their good deeds. In the very next verses, Jesus describes his followers as the light of the world and urges them not to hide that light. He says we should be like a city set on a hill that cannot be hidden. Rather than hiding our light under a basket, we should let it shine so that others may see our good works and give glory to God (Matthew 5:16).

That might strike some of us as odd, especially if we were taught not to broadcast our good deeds. After all, in the very next chapter, Jesus says, “When you give alms, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing… and your Father who sees in secret will reward you” (Matthew 6:3–4). So which is it? Are we supposed to be public about our good deeds or keep them hidden?

The difference is context. In Matthew 5, Jesus is talking about doing good in the world, among people who may not know God. When we do good (and Jesus assumes that we will), we should not hide the fact that we are followers of Christ. The goal is not our glory, but God’s. In Matthew 6, however, Jesus is addressing religious settings, particularly within the community of faith. He wants to make sure that our giving to the church is not done in order to be seen by our fellow believers, or to gain status or power.

Here at Hampden UMC, we try to reflect this with our envelope system. Members and regular attenders are assigned numbers which they can write on their offering envelopes so that our bookkeeper knows who gave what for record-keeping purposes, but so that no one else handling the offering would know who gave the gift. It’s a small example, but it reflects the principle of not allowing the “left hand” to know what the “right hand” is doing.

As with anything, it’s about the spirit of the law, not the letter. This isn’t about judging those whose giving is publicly recognized. What it does mean is that we shouldn’t seek recognition from within the church for our generosity, while at the same time we should let the world see our good works so that they can give glory to God.

The reality is that one of the reasons Christians have such a negative reputation in our society is that we get this mixed up. We report our mission trips and service projects to other Christians, while what the broader world sees are exclusionary practices or support for policies that feel oppressive.

The answer isn’t to continue oppressive and exclusionary practices quietly. The answer is to step back, examine what we’re doing, and change course.

True Fasting

This is exactly what the prophet Isaiah instructed the people to do in Isaiah 58. The people were doing many “religious” things. They were humbling themselves, fasting, engaging in spiritual practices meant to draw them closer to God. But at the same time, they were quarreling, fighting, and exploiting others. They practiced personal piety while harming their neighbors. They prayed faithfully and then went off to jobs that oppressed others.

Hypocritical? Absolutely, and no doubt the society around them saw right through it.

So Isaiah declares that what God truly desires is not empty religious performance or shows of humility, but justice: breaking the yoke of oppression, sharing food with the hungry, caring for the vulnerable. If they did this, Isaiah says, then their light would break forth like the dawn. In other words, they would become the light of the world.

So what does this mean for us?

On an individual level, it means not being afraid to let our friends and neighbors who don’t go to church see our good works, and to name that we do them because of Christ. At the same time, it means asking ourselves whether we’ve been focused on the wrong things, and inviting God to realign us with what truly matters.

On a congregational level, it means telling the story of what God is doing here. Rather than lamenting that more people don’t attend church, we should allow them to see and hear about the good things that are happening, and invite them to join in, however they feel led. Complaining about the fact that people don’t attend church on Sunday mornings can come across as judgmental. And so instead, let’s celebrate the ways God is actively working through the various ministries that take place here all throughout the week.

Recently, I saw a Facebook post with a historical photo of our church building, and someone in the comment thread asked whether the congregation was in decline. I don’t know whether they had heard that we have fewer people attending worship on Sunday mornings, or whether they were simply naming the broader trend of decreased church attendance across the country.

Either way, it’s important that we’re prepared to answer questions like that. Because success in ministry isn’t measured only by Sunday morning attendance, but by how we engage the community throughout the week.

So instead of saying we’re in decline, I tell people that about 80 people attend AA and Al Anon here on Monday evenings, and another 20 or 30 on Thursdays. I tell them that we have 12 community organizations who use our building on a weekly basis. I tell them that a Montessori school is moving into our building this week, that Hampden Elementary and Middle School will hold their spring musical here, and that we have an active food ministry that feeds people on a weekly basis. I tell them that we’re planning upcoming Youth Sundays, family fun nights, and Lenten concerts.

Instead of saying that our congregation is in decline, I invite them to come and see! Come and see a congregation that may not look flashy, but is faithfully showing up. Come and see a church building where the lights are on all week long, not for ourselves, but for our neighbors. Because that’s what Jesus meant when he said, “Let your light shine.”

Because Jesus never said, “You are the well-attended church of the world.” Rather, he said, “You are the light of the world.” And light looks like recovery meetings, spaces that are shared, neighbors who are fed. It looks like music radiating from the building, and young people finding their place. By that measure, this light is very much on.

And all of these ministries exist because you exist. You are the salt that keeps the world from hardening. You are the light that breaks through the cold and the darkness. Not just on Sundays, but in your workplaces, your schools, your families, and your neighborhoods.

Isaiah says that when we loosen the bonds of injustice, feed the hungry, and care for the vulnerable, then our light will break forth like the dawn. Not someday. Not in theory. It will break forth.

And friends, that light is already breaking forth here. Our calling now is simply this: to keep choosing the kind of faith that shines.

We’re not a perfect church. We don’t get everything right.

But we are trying to be faithful. Faithful to open our doors. Faithful to serve our neighbors. Faithful to let our light shine in ways that are quiet, steady, and real.

And in a world desperately longing for goodness and light, that kind of faithfulness matters more than we know.

So let’s not hide that light. Let’s let it shine, so that others may see what true love looks like, and give glory to God.

Amen!

Questions for Personal Reflection in Response to Today’s Sermon

1. When Jesus calls his followers the “salt of the earth,” which image resonates most with me right now: adding flavor, preserving what is good, or helping something grow? Why?
2. In what ways might my faith be quietly influencing the world around me without me even realizing it?
3. Are there places where my faith has become more private than public—not out of humility, but out of fear, comfort, or habit?
4. Isaiah challenges religious practices that are disconnected from justice and compassion. Where might I be doing “religious” things without fully engaging in love of neighbor?
5. How do I balance doing good in secret with allowing my light to shine so that God—not I—receives the glory?