Time for Salt

February 5, 2017

Susan Adams

Ordinary 5     1 Corinthians 2:1-12     Matthew 5:13-20

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I find this a very difficult time in which to be a preacher, a responsible preacher that is! So much of what has framed my world and shaped my world view is up for grabs as 2017 gets underway. I could rant and rave in anger... but

I'm here today attempting to say something responsible

I'm here, struggling to make sense of the readings and the circumstances of our world at present, and of our nation because, as a young girl, I remember the first time I heard the first verses of the text set for today from Matthew' gospel. I was so moved by them I committed myself to retaining my 'saltiness' with all the potential that includes for 'being unpalatable' as well as for helping healing and for enhancing flavour.

My experience since has shown me that to be human is to be all those things at times: unpalatable, helpful, and able to support 'healing'.

I'm struggling to say something in public because the challenge to those of us who were at the Women's March a couple of weeks ago, in solidarity with the Women's March on Washington, was to 'do something'. 'We can no longer be passive in the face of what we are seeing and experiencing in geopolitics, and for women at this time in history', we were told. It seems it's time to risk saltiness once more.

Another thing my life experience has shown me is how often fear in one form or another affects our lives: how we act, the decisions we make, what we think is important. Often that fear is a response to our sense of powerlessness: to change we have no capacity to stop, to unexpected events we don't understand, to our sense of being discounted – ignored or disrespected. Fear can propel us into violence as a response (we can lash out verbally as well as physically), or into passivity ( resigning ourselves to 'go with the flow', to withdrawal even).

It seems to me that many of these feelings, and consequent responses, are what we are observing in our world at this time. Things are changing fast, most of us as ordinary individuals have little capacity to slow down or to stop the changes – perhaps I should confine myself to speaking about myself here for this is how it seems to me. You will know best how you see and experience things.

The US elections and subsequent actions have brought most of the things I am speaking about into focus for us following, as it does, on the British wish to exit the European Union, the Syrian refugee crisis, climate change as we are experiencing it, increasing interfaith suspicion, and the ever increasing wealth gap with its dire impact on so many. (It has been reported in the news this past couple of weeks eight of the richest people in the world hold more economic wealth that the poorest 50% of the world population! (NZ Herald, Oxfam))

• How should we be responding to all this knowledge; to the feelings that are engendered in us by what we know and experience?

• What should we be doing?

Most of you are aware that tomorrow is Waitangi Day. For those who are visitors this is a national holiday that commemorates the signing of the Treaty of Waitangi in the Bay of Islands in 1840. This Treaty – has been understood as a covenant. It was signed by leaders of many of the indigenous Maori tribes and Governor Hobson on behalf of the British crown and the British subject resident in Aotearoa at the time and those who would follow to make these islands their home. It is a covenant that establishes rights and obligations on both parties. Enshrined in this covenant are the ideals of kaitiakitanga, manaakitanga, whanaungatanga, and kotahitanga: care of the earth's sustainability (the waters, seas and all creatures who share the land with us), hospitality to strangers as well as friends, the significance of extended family and community, and engaging in this care together in solidarity. It points us toward what we should be doing.

It is stories of even earlier covenants, those contribute to the shaping of our Judeo-Christian story, that help me to answer for myself the questions of how we should be responding as people who have committed themselves to the gospel call to 'be the body of Christ'. They too point us toward what we should be doing in our time with the resources we have to hand. We have many stories of earlier covenants, especially the one of the covenant made between Noah and God after the flood, in which humanity was charged with responsibility for care of the earth and peace between peoples (Gen 9:1-17) and in which God in turn promised to be more loving and not to destroy. And there is of course the 'New Covenant' as it is called, reaffirming earlier covenants and made by Jesus during his last supper with his friends as he spoke longingly of the 'kingdom of God' – which, from the gospel stories we have of Jesus life and ministry, we can conclude he hoped would 'come on earth' with all the love, and justice that is implied in the term "kingdom of God – or 'heaven' (Mk 14:22).

It is reasonably easy to know what our responsibilities are as covenant partners, to know what we should be doing if we use these covenants, including Te Tiriti – we've read and heard Jesus injunctions to those who follow – but the actual doing is something else! So many powerful people benefit from us not acting on those covenantal responsibilities, and so many people hope their lives will improve if they too could only access some of the power and benefits of non-enactment, that to tell the story of the vision of a world transformed by such covenants – a world of care and sustainability, of regard and respect for those who are different, of hospitality to friend and stranger, of peace with justice – risks being laughed at. That can be painful enough but to actually try to do something to enact that vision of 'heaven come on earth', to live as though it were so, is to risk losing material goods and social acceptability. Most of us are cautious about this. At the Women's March in Auckland, Lizzy Marvelly (Herald columnist amongst other things) told of the vitriolic threats and abusive messages she receives daily as she exposes the excesses and manipulation of power and the struggles of so many women for dignity and respect – still!

I want to suggest to you, that in these days we need to open our eyes to the 'withering of the fig tree'; that we need to be liberal with the salt we have in our lives; and that we need to keep a sharp look out for anyone brave enough to 'light a lamp and put it on a lamp-stand for all to see'. I believe we need to choose to be drawn to the light, that we need to add our little lights to the lights of others, making a bigger brighter glow. And perhaps we need to participate in cutting down the fig tree!

But how you might ask me? I can't answer that for you all. You will find what you can do if you look about and identify the light. But what I do know is that we have a story to tell. We have a different vision of how the world could be – even if we don't have all the loose ends tied up. This vision, rich in image and metaphor, needs a wide, frequent and courageous telling. In our story

• We know care of the earth and all earth creatures, care of the sea and skies is critically important,

• We know hospitality to strangers and to those in need will make a difference,

• We know it is important to build relationships of mutual respect,

• We know what a difference it makes when we cooperate with each other and share the resources of the earth available to us

• We know economic security is important for all people.

This is our story.

And in our story, our Christian story, it is this 'knowing' that can empower us to speak out, to act up, to say no; to revel in our saltiness, to dance in the light. It is our covenantal responsibility not to let the contagion of fear infect our hearts and minds reducing us either to passivity or provoking us to violence.

It seems so important to me to tell the story of life and love.

Just do it – tell the story, proclaim the vision, live respectfully as though heaven has come on earth – no matter how foolish it seems.

May the energising power of the Spirit remain with us in our 'doing'.