“Y’all Are Salt”

You are the salt of the earth [Matthew 5:13].

As rich as the English language is, it is peppered with contextual difficulties. For example, in our language, the word for the second person pronoun— “you”—is the same for both the singular and the plural. That’s, of course, why long ago, Southerners came up with “y’all” and some folks from New Jersey invented “yous guys.”

As y’all know, I don’t do New Testament Greek. But those who do advise that the Greek language easily distinguishes between the singular and the plural in its use of the second person pronoun. That’s certainly true for Latin, with which I’m reasonably familiar. In Latin, the second person singular is “tu,” while the second person plural is “vos.” So, for those playing at home, in the Vulgate (Latin) Bible, whenever you see vos, just think, “y’all.”

There are several important “y’alls” in the Gospel reading for this upcoming Sunday, the Fifth Sunday after the Epiphany (RCL, Year A), Matthew 5:13-20. Turning to Matthew’s Gospel, we see the following in the Vulgate Bible:

Vos estis sal terrae (i.e., You—that is, the plural “you”—are the salt of the earth) [Matthew 5:13].

Because Jesus uses the second person plural, we should see that His words are addressed to the community of disciples (many more than twelve in number) and not to persons as individuals. We have already learned that the disciples are what they are—disciples—not because of some inherent strength or potential to grow in spirituality. They’re disciples because Jesus has said so.

Similarly, in the Beatitudes [Matthew 5:1 et seq.], the meek aren’t blessed because they have excelled at being meek. They’re blessed because Jesus said so. Peacemakers are blessed, not because they have successfully completed three courses in mediation and arbitration. They are blessed because Jesus said so. Those who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness are not blessed because they have joined together in marching on the powers that be. They are blessed because Jesus said so.

And so it is with salt. Jesus doesn’t identify His followers as salt because they are adept at anything. Jesus does not challenge them to increase their zeal and to become more like salt. They are salt; they need not be “saltier.” They are salt because Jesus said so.

Still, two questions remain: First, why did Jesus speak in the plural and not in the singular? Second, why does He say His disciples are salt?

I think he uses the second person plural because He doesn’t want us to concentrate on our existence as individual grains of salt. Oh, to be sure, the individual grain of salt is fully sodium chloride. Similarly, the individual follower of Christ has a wonderful, often even personal relationship with God (notice that I said “often” and not “always”), but Jesus is interested in more than a one-on-one with you (singular use of the pronoun) and me. He’s interested in using us in His Kingdom.

After all, what good is a single grain of salt? One grain can’t add flavor to anything. I think Jesus used the second person plural—in Latin, the “vos”—because He wants us to understand that individual grains of salt are only useful to Him when we are joined together with many others. And yet, even joining with others doesn’t really capture Jesus’ point. I think Jesus is saying that it’s one thing to be salt in the shaker; it’s quite another to be salt in the stew.

I’m reminded of a short conversation that I had about a year ago with one of our grandsons, Everett, who was then almost six. I was making some beef stew, allowing him “to help.” We’d browned the stew beef, sautéed some onion, celery, and carrot. I’d made a roux to help thicken it. I had carefully added some broth. Each time that I added more ingredients, I’d say, “Now, Everett, we need to add salt (and pepper) in layers.”

I went on to explain that if you pretend that what you’ve just added to the pot was the only thing that was ever going to be in the dish, and you salted it accordingly, by the end of all the cooking steps, you’d have just the right amount of salt (and pepper) in the dish. I added, “You’ve seen your mother cook. She carefully adds salt to make everything taste especially good.” I thought I was doing wonderfully in my cooking lesson.

Then came his question—one of those wonderfully profound queries that can only be proferred by a child. These are the innocent, innocuous questions which, if we are ready to hear them—and we often are not—can open measures of deep, almost boundless meaning.

You see, after I’d added the salt that last time, Everett said, “Pop, I still see the beef, and the carrots and celery. I can still see the onions and the other stuff you put in the pot. But I don’t see the salt. Where did the salt go?”

Not attuned to the wisdom in Everett’s question, I think my response was something like, “Oh, it disappears into the stew.”

Well, last night, as I read again through Matthew 5, I concluded that Jesus must have had something like a stew in mind for those of us whom He calls “salt.” An individual grain of salt is salt, but hardly worth any trouble. Even a collective of salt in a shaker is only potentially useful. In the shaker, it’s doing nothing. Ah, but taste what happens when it’s put in the stew.

When salt is added to the stew, it gives the dish a rich, savory taste. It turns a bland mixture of meat and vegetables into something that can make one’s mouth water. Shaking the salt from the shaker, storing it into the stew, there is a sense of magic. That’s what our Lord has in mind when he identifies “us” (a plural pronoun as well) as salt.

I think Jesus is making yet another point. I was at least partially correct in my response to Everett. To fulfill its purpose—to flavor the stew—the salt must give itself up. It must disappear. In its action of giving itself up to the stew, the stew becomes the star; the salt never could be. That isn’t its function.

As He stood and preached on the hill (or, as Luke paints it, on a plain), Jesus knew that eventually He would have to give Himself up for the world. Only in giving himself up for those around Him could Jesus fulfill His purpose and desire. He has that same desire for us, for it is in the giving up of ourselves—both He and Paul would characterize it as “dying to oneself,” that we can fulfill our own purpose of glorifying and enjoying God forever [Westminster Catechism, question 1]. As a friend of mine has said, “Dying to oneself is the shortest path to resurrection.”

As Bonhoeffer wrote (I’m paraphrasing from memory), true grace is expensive; it cost the life of God’s only Son. Serving God as the salt of Christ is itself not without cost. And yet, in dying to ourselves, in flavoring the stew, we share the savor of the Savior. We become one with Him and if we are one with Him, then we are also one with each other. Those of us who would follow Christ into the world are capable of transforming that world if we disappear in obedient service. He’s bidding us forward. He looks at us all and says, “Y’all are salt. Now disappear.”