05 Feb SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 5, 2023
The reality of aging began knocking at my door when Portico, my ELCA benefits provider, reminded me that I must register with Social Security and choose Medicare options by March of this year. I guess thinking about that prompted me to to catch up on a year’s worth of obituaries from Maryland where I once lived. After selecting the entire previous year, I clicked on, “See all.” Can’t say I ever heard of or met most of them, but I recognized a few faces and a few others, by name.
After spending a good chunk of time doing that, these lyrics from a song by Christian singer Matthew West ran through my head. “I don’t wanna go through the motions. I don’t wanna go one more day, without your all consuming passion inside of me. I don’t wanna spend my whole life asking, ‘What if I’d have given everything instead of going through the motions?’” You can hear the entire song here: https://youtu.be/ZUg9qE_KjLg
Jesus sang a similar tune by saying this: “Let your life be consumed by passion bright and godly, for such good work points to your Father in heaven, the one who deserves glory.” Jesus’ whole life was one of consuming passion and giving everything. That’s why at the conclusion of every baptism, everyone hears this: “Let your light so shine before others, that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.”
More often than not, we view good works from a human perspective. We shine light on individuals and with rare exception, give God glory. I happen to like seeing athletes cross themselves or point to the sky, hear winners thank God for their success or read an obituary that claims God received a person’s loved one into heaven with open arms. Every such gesture is an attempt to acknowledge either what God has given or claims as his own.
Back to my perusing a year’s worth of obituaries. Not wanting to miss a single soul from the eleven hundred plus names populated under the search results, I slowly scrolled from one page to the next. It was unbelievable how long mostly scrolling and hardly reading actually took. I looked at the time to see that an hour and a half had escaped before similarities and rarities stood out.
I noticed what was typical, such as surviving family members mentioning what their loved one was known for or perhaps most proud of: their life’s accomplishments, hobbies, the places they lived and worked in addition to a list of relatives, both living and deceased.
I couldn’t help but hear Jesus say again, “You are the salt of the earth.” His words got me wondering, “What does a person’s time on earth amount to? How often does it equal what salt represented in Jesus’ time: something of value, necessary, worth trading for, a thing guaranteed to enhance flavor or make things last?
Jesus also remarked, “if salt loses its taste, how can it be restored?” To me, that sounds like a rhetorical question, like once it loses its taste, it can’t ever be restored. Can it lose flavor? Can the flavor be restored? If so, that would be good. If not, Jesus says, “Without flavor, salt’s no good. Throw it out, walk on it, who cares? Yikes. Where’s the good news this week, Jesus?
Fortunately, salt is salt, like a child of God is a child of God. The flavor is sealed within by the Holy Spirit. Just like sodium and chloride have a unique relationship, so do people with God. Each has a lasting bond and strong basis for structural integrity.
The two elements and the two parties in relationship can withstand many contexts. For the most part, they are solid and stable. At times, it may be noted that parts may become diluted or absorbed, but each element and their unique relationship are maintained. Like salt, those once baptized, who fall away from attending church are still God’s children. God has determined that whoever has life can become salt and that being in a unique relationship together is always possible.
Please bear with me while I reflect once again, on this anniversary of my father’s death, and at the impending death of his dear friend Carolyn, to think about how much seeing a photo of the deceased offers the grieving one last parting glimpse of a loved one. I was sad to see that many names bore no such likeness, as though death had already stolen even their countenance.
Also remarkable in Maryland, as it is in Pennsylvania and elsewhere, that four spouses died within weeks of each other and two inseparable brothers, best friends for fourteen of their 14 and 16 years on earth, died together while in Hawaii. No details or cause were given, but their short lives filled quite the long column.
Finally, a familiar face appeared. It was a woman whose son was friends with my son, Simon, whose younger daughter played basketball with my daughter, Bess. I was sad to see that she’d gotten divorced after bravely running for and winning a seat on the local school board.
She was really down to earth, able to grow or craft most anything. I last saw her at the Goodwill in Hanover. We caught up talking about the kids, but didn’t keep in touch. Her children were, for the most part, pleasant to be around. Her obit stated she was most proud that each of her four kids graduated college. I get that.
I only clicked on “Read Full Obituary” for those I once knew through church, the local schools or work. Last but not least, I noticed the name of a local dairy farmer I’d met while administering the USDA Livestock Disaster Program. 
He came to the office saying the government had denied much-needed compensation for his family’s losses.
In response, I requested every piece of documentation they still had, including auction receipts and scraps of paper. The most vital evidence turned out to be a family wall calendar that hung in the kitchen. On it were scribbled mentions of calves being born, their sex and increasing weights. Dead cows were mentioned by number or name. In the end, members of the family farm were compensated for every member of the dairy barn.
All that exposure to people who have come and gone, to their memories, and to Jesus’ word reminded me that God thinks that every life has worth and that worth ought to be counted and acknowledged for all to see.
Jesus said, “You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden. No one after lighting a lamp puts it under a basket, but on a lampstand. Then it can give light to all in the house.”
Giving light to all for the use of all was why Jesus came to earth and is the point of people being in the world.
In the song, “The Motions,” Matthew West repeats one line after singing the refrain. He asks God repeatedly, “Take me all the way. Take me all the way. Take me all the way. Take me all the way.” He asks to be light shining before others so every good work inspires glory given to God. Jesus asks that our lives count like that rather than be salt without flavor trampled underfoot. The singer-songwriter and today’s gospel passage recorded the same message for all our sakes.
Your active part in today’s sermon is this: Either in your head or out loud, I want you to say to yourself, ”Take me all the way.” Now I hate when pastors ask people to turn to their neighbor and say stuff so I’m not doing that but I am asking you to turn to God and say, “Take me all the way.” Once more. “Take me all the way.”
What we do or don’t do with our lives matters. Jesus did not come to abolish the law or prophets, but to fulfill and accomplish all that was written, all that was spoken and that has been done. His goal was to take us all the way, to establish and extend the kingdom of heaven so that its taste is available to all and its light may be seen by all.
Of course I can’t ignore the last verse of today’s reading. It’s troublesome. “Unless your righteousness exceeds that of scribes and Pharisees (whose full-time job entailed recreating and upholding perfect focus upon God’s word and laws) you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Isaiah echoed that.
We’re told we cannot practice righteousness and ignore God’s commands. We cannot serve our own interests or quarrel while claiming to seek God. It seems as though our only hope lies in ongoing gifts from God: that of grace and the presence of the Holy Spirit.
Throughout our lifetimes, I believe we’re each given gifts we don’t recognize, understand, interpret or acknowledge correctly. We get stuck in our own perspective which places value on human merit. But the longer we live, the more we’ll realize the value of learning that comes through the Spirit and cherish the guidance and understanding God bestows.
Today in church or while watching online, you’ve been given another chance, to discern and lean into the spiritual realm knowing that the source of your light and righteousness is none other than Jesus himself. God’s righteousness does exceed that of scribes and Pharisees. It’s the only righteousness we have.
During communion, you’ll receive the body and blood of Christ. With it, you’ll be given the mind of Christ. There’s no need for worry. All things eventually work out. God always aims for every life to count, to hold value, to be recognized and compensated for loss. I know that’s true. Let us pray.
Lord, take us all the way. Consume our lives with passion for you and in love for each other. Help us realize the worth of every life created. Make us lampstands for your light and full of flavor with your righteousness. Young or old, weak or strong we are salt on earth until we see dawn in eternity. In Your Holy Name We Pray, Amen.