“Salty and Shiny”

Isaiah 58:1-12, Matt. 5:13-16

Pastor Deb Troester, STHPC, February 8, 2026

Last month I attended our Presbytery Pastor’s Retreat in Santa Cruz. At the end of the retreat, the pastors were invited to sail around the harbor on the Salty Sheep, a catamaran which is part of the Urban Works ministry. Pastor Ryan Althaus directs this non-profit ministry, which is affiliated with our Presbytery. Pastor Ryan often takes disabled and unhoused people out for a cruise around the bay on this catamaran. It is also available for church groups to use. The day we went out, a young man on the autism spectrum, his mom, and his service dog accompanied us. We all enjoyed the breeze and the water, and were delighted to watch a sea lion swim right up to the boat and eye us, as if to ask, “Who are you and what are you doing here?” before swimming off.

Urban Works also sponsors a community garden where the unhoused and disabled can enjoy the fresh air and sunshine as they work. At harvest they can eat the fruits of their labors. Pastor Ryan has organized arts and crafts classes as well,

And there is a small store where some of the items made by the unhoused and the disability community are sold. Ryan and his co-workers are spreading the salt and light of the gospel throughout the Santa Cruz area, one person at a time. They are indeed “Salty Sheep.”

When Jesus said, “You are the salt of the earth,” his disciples probably scratched their heads, wondering what he meant. But if they thought about it a little, they would have understood – salt was a major preservative in those days of no refrigeration. Salt fish could be transported far away from the lake or the ocean, and would even keep several months. Some of you probably remember eating ham preserved in salt – I remember my grandmother saying that it had to be soaked in water, then the water thrown out and the ham soaked again in fresh water, repeating the process seven times to get enough salt out of the ham to make it palatable. It was a good way of preserving meat, back when most people didn’t have ice boxes.

Just as salt preserves food and keeps it from spoiling, we Christians are to be the salt that preserves what is good in the world.

By our faithful example and influence, we permeate society, as salt seasons food, working for good in difficult times. During the great plagues of the Roman Empire, Christians were the ones who cared for the sick. During the Middle Ages, Christians started the first hospitals. Schools for the masses were started during the Reformation, to make sure that everyone – boys and girls alike – could read the Bible and the Catechism. That was when society began to see the value of a basic education for everyone. Faith motivated the Abolitionists in their fight against slavery, and in more recent times, many Christians stood up for Civil Rights. Salt preserves what is good and prevents food from rotting. As Christians we are are to help encourage the good, and discourage corruption in our world.

When Jesus said “You are the salt of the earth,” some of his disciples might have thought about how food without salt often just doesn’t taste as good. The Romans thought that salting their greens would take out the bitterness – that is where we get our word “salad,” meaning “salted.” Salt also makes people thirsty.

If we live out our faith, as Jesus wants us to, our lives may make others “thirsty” to know more about God and the love of Jesus Christ.

Salt also served as medicine in the ancient world: it was used to relieve toothaches, stomach problems, and to disinfect minor wounds. Even today, dentists recommend warm saltwater rinses to promote healing after dental surgery. Gargling warm salt water is good for sore throats, too. In proclaiming, “You are the salt of the earth,” Jesus was saying that we, by our faith, can bring healing to a world that suffers from many ailments.

Yet, Jesus also talks about salt losing its taste. How can that be? Today we think of salt as a pure white product – the one that pours from the box or salt shaker. Think of Morton salt’s motto, “When it rains, it pours.” But back then salt wasn’t made or refined in factories. It came from natural sources, such as sea water, marshes, or rock salt, even the ashes from burning certain plants. This kind of salt contained impurities. If it got wet, the actual salt might dissolve, leaving only the impurities, which would be tasteless or bitter – and, as Jesus said,

“It is no longer good for anything but is thrown out and trampled underfoot.” Jesus wants us indeed to be “Salty Sheep.”

Jesus also wants us to be shiny. He proclaimed, “You are the light of the world.” That is surprising, because elsewhere in the Gospels, it says that Jesus is the light of the world. Can it be both? As we come to know Christ, and spend more time with him, in prayer, studying his teachings, and acting on them, we can reflect his light, much as a mirror reflects the light of the sun. If we polish our mirrors, so to speak, they will shine brighter. If we do not stay close to God, and our mirrors become dirty, from sin or neglect, we will no longer shine as brightly.

In some sense, we are like a lighthouse, showing people the way to safe harbor – helping others to find God’s love and grace. A lighthouse uses a powerful lamp, with glass prisms that refract and reflect the light, intensifying it and directing it seaward. If our light shines like a lighthouse - or like a city on a hill, we can illumine the way in the darkness of this world for many people. If the lenses are covered with dust or dirt, the light will not shine as brightly.

If we allow Christ to cleanse us from sin, our lives will magnify the light of Christ. We will be like the lamp set on a lampstand, that gives light to the entire room, as Jesus said. No matter how little we think we have to contribute, we can all do our part: It is better to light one small candle, than to curse the darkness. Jesus urges us, “Let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.”

Centuries before Jesus walked this earth, the prophet Isaiah also associated light with doing good, doing justice, showing kindness, and compassion. In Isaiah 58, we read God’s answer to those who ask why God is not blessing their nation:

6 Is not this the fast that I choose:
    to loose the bonds of injustice,
    to undo the straps of the yoke,
to let the oppressed go free,
    and to break every yoke?
7 Is it not to share your bread with the hungry
    and bring the homeless poor into your house;
when you see the naked, to cover them
    and not to hide yourself from your own kin?

8 Then your light shall break forth like the dawn…”
    

Get rid of injustice and oppression, feed the hungry, house the homeless, don’t hide from those in need, then you will be blessed.

I like the metaphor that we reflect or refract Christ’s light, like a mirror or a Fresnel lamp in a lighthouse. But I also like what Paul writes to Timothy in 2 Timothy 1: “fan into flame the gift of God, which is in you through the laying on of my hands. For the Spirit God gave us does not make us timid, but gives us power, love and self-discipline.” In our baptism, or perhaps at the moment of our conversion, the light of the Holy Spirit entered our lives, a divine spark, if you will. We have the choice – to fan the flame of the spirit, or to let it grow dim.

This past Friday I was invited to participate in a prayer vigil in front of the ICE Office in Morgan Hill. I had a lot of reasons not to go – it was too early in the morning, it was a really busy weekend, I had lots of work to do – including writing this sermon. But then I thought, “How can I preach on being salt and light if I am not willing to be salt and light myself? I would feel like a hypocrite.” So I went.

There were about 100 people there, including representatives from many different churches – Episcopal, Lutheran, Unitarian, Presbyterian, the pastor of a “Bible” Church – and there were two rabbis, two Buddhist clergy, and a leader of the Muslim Community. We sang, we prayed – even for the people working for ICE - and we named the thirty some odd people who have been killed by ICE or died in ICE detention over the past year, as we laid placards with their photos in front of a makeshift altar. The mood was somber. Yet I left with my heart a bit lighter, having met so many people who shared my hope that everyone in our country could be treated with dignity and respect, whether immigrant or native-born. I was with others who believe, as I do, that our diversity as a people is a strength, not a weakness. We were shining a light on injustice, acting as salt to preserve the truth that we are all children of God. These peaceful protests and vigils are like salt, spreading throughout our nation, working against the corruption of violence and the violation of basic human rights. I didn’t want to go, but I went, and I left feeling more encouraged than I have in days. As the Quaker saying goes, “Live by the light you have and more will be given to you.”

We are the salt of the earth. We are the light of the world. Even if our light is small, we can each find a way to shine the light of Christ. And together we can light up the darkness. Amen.

Sing “This Little Light of Mine.”

Sermon @ Deborah Troester, 2026