Matthew 5:13 - 16
Some of you have met my youngest granddaughter. Leila is the proud owner of Fabio, a cat, who was purchased in part with money she was given by a few parishioners at the time of her first communion. Fabio is rare among cats, because he was blessed by our pastor. In any event, Leila and her mother recently moved to Belgium from Germany, where she had to enroll in a new school. Leila is quite fluent in German, but in the new school in Belgium, she is expected to learn french. Joan and I were on a zoom call not too long ago and I couldn't help but wonder if all this starting over again in a new culture and in a new language was going to be discouraging to her. But I was wrong. She informed us that everything was going great -- she was easily the smartest in her class, and she didn't think learning French would be a problem because she already knew two languages. And she was lucky because she was the only kid from America in her class, and apparently that brought a lot of respect. And she went on and on about how she could hardly wait till school started the next day. I suggested that she was probably the most humble child in her class as well, and she readily agreed with me, and then thinking about it she asked her mother, “what’s humble?”
In our time when we think about humility, we picture someone who is trying hard not to be noticed, someone who walks around looking down at the ground. And if we think we are humble we prefer not to be noticed. I had an acquaintance a long time ago who claimed his ambition was to get into a middle management position where he could work unnoticed until retirement. I thought, what an odd aspiration for a young man with a master’s degree in hospital administration.
Nelson Mandella said that “Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate; our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that frightens us.” We ask ourselves, “Who am I to be brilliant, talented, fabulous?” But who are we not to? After all, we are children of God. We are born to manifest the glory of God within us. Not just some of us, all of us.
Humility is not self-effacement. It’s a healthy appreciation of how we really are, and that has to include the fact that we are children of God, given gifts not for ourselves, but for those around us. Jesus told the story of the talents, and how one servant buried his talent rather than putting it to use. His master punished him. But in a sense, not to use our talents as God intends them to be used is punishment in itself. Next time you meet someone who is loud and obnoxious, or angry all the time, you might wonder if that is because he or she has a talent that is lying there unused, causing deep frustration and displacement. I’m reminded of a brilliant young physician I met when I first came to this area. He would get so angry that he would have to get up and move around the room until he calmed down. Several years later he became the head of his department. His entire personality changed as he finally had an outlet for his talent of leadership.
Jesus compares his disciples to salt and light. If you have a box of salt, it’s not much good just sitting there. It’s only when you begin to use it to season food or preserve meat that it becomes valuable. If we don’t use our unique talents, our god given charisms, for the sake of others, there is no substitute. If the salt loses its saltiness, you have nothing to make it salty again.
The same is true of light. If I own a light and cover it up so no one can see, it’s useless. But if I put it in a lamp stand, not only can I see, but so can everyone else who is in the room.
IF you are salt, if you are light, you have no business keeping it to yourself. It’s there for the world.
My oldest grandson is kind of like me when I was his age - quiet most of the time, enjoys being by himself, doesn’t seem to care about what other people think. But he has an amazing talent for music and is making a career of that. Over the Christmas season he visited us along with his family. He would sit down at our piano and play Christmas tunes without any music in front of him -- all from memory, with the accompaniment being made up as he played. He doesn't say much, but it seemed that he was happiest when he was sharing his talent with all of us.
Jesus asks that each of us set forth our gifts for others to share. He promises that when we do so we will glorify our heavenly father. To hide our gifts, to not be the salt and light we are meant to be, will never bring us happiness; in fact, will probably leave us frustrated and unhappy. To be the salt of the earth and the light of the world, to use the gifts of our heavenly father for the sake of his kingdom, will always bring us joy. So today, let us ask ourselves what is keeping us from salting the earth and lighting the world? What is holding us back from sharing our talents given to us by our heavenly father for his glory?
