Matthew 5 research
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Lost its savour (μωρανθῃ [mōranthēi]). The verb is from μωρος [mōros] (dull, sluggish, stupid, foolish) and means to play the fool, to become foolish, of salt become tasteless, insipid (Mark 9:50). It is common in Syria and Palestine to see salt scattered in piles on the ground because it has lost its flavour, “hae tint its tang” (Braid Scots), the most worthless thing imaginable. Jesus may have used here a current proverb.
Matthew 5:15
Under the bushel (ὑπο τον μοδιον [hupo ton modion]). Not a bushel. “The figure is taken from lowly cottage life. There was a projecting stone in the wall on which the lamp was set. The house consisted of a single room, so that the tiny light sufficed for all” (Bruce). It was not put under the bushel (the only one in the room) save to put it out or to hide it. The bushel was an earthenware grain measure. “The stand” (την λυχνιαν [tēn luchnian]), not “candlestick.” It is “lamp-stand” in each of the twelve examples in the Bible. There was the one lamp-stand for the single room.
Matthew 5:16
Even so (οὑτως [houtōs]). The adverb points backward to the lamp-stand. Thus men are to let their light shine, not to glorify themselves, but “your Father in heaven.” Light shines to see others by, not to call attention to itself.
Matthew 5:17
I came not to destroy, but to fulfil (οὐκ ἠλθον καταλυσαι ἀλλα πληρωσαι [ouk ēlthon katalusai alla plērōsai]). The verb “destroy” means to “loosen down” as of a house or tent (2 Cor. 5:1). Fulfil is to fill full. This Jesus did to the ceremonial law which pointed to him and the moral law he kept. “He came to fill the law, to reveal the full depth of meaning that it was intended to hold” (McNeile).
Matthew 5:18
One jot or one tittle (ἰωτα ἑν ἠ μια κερεα [iōta hen ē mia kerea]). “Not an iota, not a comma” (Moffatt), “not the smallest letter, not a particle” (Weymouth). The iota is the smallest Greek vowel, which Matthew here uses to represent the Hebrew yod [yôḏ; י] (jot), the smallest Hebrew letter. “Tittle” is from the Latin titulus which came to mean the stroke above an abbreviated word, then any small mark. It is not certain here whether κερεα [kerea] means a little horn, the mere point which distinguishes some Hebrew letters from others or the “hook” letter Vav [wāw; ו]. Sometimes yod [yôḏ; י] and vav [wāw; ו] were hardly distinguishable. “In Vay. R. 19 the guilt of altering one of them is pronounced so great that if it were done the world would be destroyed” (McNeile).
The Beatitudes of Jesus are sometimes called the “Beautiful Attitudes” because they describe the inner character of those who are members of the kingdom of God. Realizing that the Beatitudes are essentially interior, one might be tempted to think they can be lived in isolation—away from the world that is so contradictory to the things of God. But actually it is impossible to live these eight norms of the kingdom in private. They are powerfully social and outward when put to work. That is why Christ crowns them with two brilliant and searching metaphors (salt and light) that tell us how those who live the Beatitudes must relate to the world. These beautiful crowning metaphors are amazingly penetrating. We will consider the first, salt, in this chapter.
“You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled by men.” (v. 13)
Since Jesus Christ spoke these words early in his ministry, when he only had a few poor, uneducated followers, his words no doubt appeared to some as presumptuous and even absurd. “You, you alone, are the salt of the earth—not just of Palestine, but of the whole earth.” The Lord was saying that his disciples would perform a vast universal task that would affect all mankind. He was expressing a strange confidence in his followers. In essence he was saying, “I have great faith in you. I believe that you will function as salt for all the world. I believe in you.” Stranger still, we know that they and their followers accomplished just that, despite their shortcomings and inconsistencies.
As we examine this portion of Christ’s Sermon on the Mount, we will see an unforgettable description of the church’s mission in a fallen world.
The Salted Church
To begin with, the church is to be a salty church. What did Jesus mean when he said, “You are the salt of the earth”? Fundamental to understanding his meaning is the fact that in the ancient world the number-one function of salt was its use as a preservative. There were no ice-making machines in those days. Refrigeration was beyond man’s wildest dreams. The only way to preserve meat then was to salt it down or soak it in a saline solution. In fact, this was common practice right into the twentieth century in remote areas. It was particularly the experience of pioneer missionaries. As one describes it:
This was absolutely imperative. Under the high temperatures and hot weather of the region, decay and decomposition of meat was astonishingly rapid. We had no winter weather or cool, frosty nights to chill the flesh.
Besides this, swarms of ubiquitous flies soon hovered over the butchered carcasses. The only way to prevent them from ruining the meat … was to soak the slabs of meat in a strong solution of salt.
This preserving use of salt was what made it possible for David Livingstone’s body to be shipped back to England for burial in Westminster Abbey. Having died in deepest Africa, Livingstone’s servant buried the great missionary’s heart in African soil, then salted down his body and shipped it home for an honored burial. The understanding that salt is a preservative is fundamental to understanding Jesus’ words.
In view of this, the underlying implication of his saying, “You are the salt of the earth” is that the world tends toward decomposition and is actually rotting away. Jesus was under no illusion about the world apart from himself. When the world is left to itself, it festers and putrefies, for the germs of evil are everywhere present and active. This is the consistent teaching of Scriptural teaching and Biblical history. The world began as a perfect creation, but when sin came, decay set in, and as a result the world became rotten, so that God eventually removed nearly the entire population of the world by the Flood. Given another chance, man fell into immediate debauchery, leading after a time to Sodom and Gomorrah. We live in a world that constantly tends toward decay. Some of the Christless structures of the world may look okay, but inside they are rotting away, and it is just a matter of time before they fall. In today’s disintegrating world only the most extreme Pollyanna would contradict this.
This suggests to us the function of the church: The church, as salt, functions as a retardant to decay and a preservative in a disintegrating world. Jesus was saying in effect, “Humanity without me is a dead body that is rotting and falling apart. And you, my followers, are the salt that must be rubbed into the flesh to halt the decomposition.” The church must be rubbed into the world—into its rotting flesh and wounds so that it might be preserved. This matter of being a preservative has a positive and a negative side. On the negative side, the presence of a salty Christian will retard decay simply because his or her life is a reproach to the sin of those they are around. We all know there are certain people in whose presence a filthy story is naturally told, and there are others before whom no one would think of telling such a story. The salty Christian is not self-righteous or condemning, but his or her life makes ungodly conversation seem shabby and inappropriate.
I believe such Christians exert an incalculable influence on society! Their mere presence reduces crime, restrains ethical corruption, promotes honesty, quickens the conscience, and elevates the general moral atmosphere. The presence of such people in the military, in business, in education, in a fraternity or sorority will amazingly elevate the level of living. And their absence will allow unbelievable depths of depravity. Believers, salty believers, are the world’s preservative. The question we must ask ourselves is, what happens when we get to know people without Christ? Does it make a difference in their lives? Are we salt?
There is also a positive aspect. Not only are our lives meant to reprove evil, but they are also meant to elicit the best from those around us. To live a life that is so salted that others are drawn to God and want to live lives like ours is indeed beautiful! Sad to say, not everyone who claims to be a Christian has this effect. Henrik Ibsen, in one of his plays, put this complaint on the lips of the Roman Emperor Julian:
Have you looked at these Christians closely? Holloweyed, pale-cheeked, flat-breasted all; they brood their lives away, unspurred by ambition: the sun shines for them, but they do not see it: the earth offers them its fullness, but they desire it not; all their desire is to renounce and to suffer that they may come to die.
Algernon Charles Swinburne gave his estimation of Christianity when he wrote, in his poem “Hymn to Prosperine”:
Thou hast conquered,
O pale Galilean.
Oliver Wendell Holmes put it this way: “I might have entered the ministry if certain clergymen I knew had not acted and looked so much like undertakers.” Some Christians behave as if they were baptized in lemon juice!
That is not the way true salted Christians are! Rather, that is the way life is without Christ—insipid and dull. That is why our culture attempts to numb itself with its pleasure mania and with drugs. People are literally dying of boredom. Our entertainment industry does its best to make life look otherwise. Fictional good is made out to be boring and flat, while fictional evil is exciting and intriguing. But it is the other way around. As Malcolm Muggeridge wrote:
Nothing is so beautiful, nothing so continually fresh and surprising, so full of sweet and perpetual ecstasy as good; no desert is so dreary, monotonous and boring as evil.
In Biblical times, as today, salt was not only a preservative, but also a spice, a condiment. Christianity is what brings spice and zest to life. The bland is made savory, and the unpalatable becomes a delight! Believers must be salty not only because they are righteous, but because life is alive. They ought to write the best books, be the most courteous, work the hardest, be the best musicians and artists and craftsmen and students.
All of which anticipates another result of being salty—salt creates thirst. Jesus made people thirsty for God. Whenever anyone encountered Jesus, whether a Pharisee like Nicodemus or an outcast like Mary Magdalene, that person became thirsty for God. Are we salty enough to make people thirsty for Jesus?
Also consider this: Even a little salt makes itself known. When we sit down for dinner, all it takes is one little bite to know whether the food has been salted or not. Just a pinch of salt goes a long way! William Wilberforce, the man who almost single-handedly brought about the Slavery Emancipation Bill in England, was living proof of this. Dwarfed by disease, he did not appear to be a person who would accomplish anything. However, Boswell wrote of him, after listening to one of his speeches, “I saw a shrimp mount the table; but as I listened, he grew and grew until the shrimp became a whale.” Tiny, elfish, misshapen, he was salt to British society, not only bringing preservation but enticement to Christ by his beautiful life. A little salt will make its presence felt.
How wonderful Jesus’ metaphor is! And how beautiful is the life of a salty believer—bringing preservation to a decaying world as a living reproof to sin, an enticement to Christ, one who brings spice and flavor to life, one who makes others thirsty for Christ and life in Heaven.
If we are salt, how are we to maximize our effectiveness? We must be spread out upon the decaying world. Salt can sit for years in the saltshaker, but it will never do any good until it is poured forth. In Jesus’ time its effect was maximized when it was poured upon and rubbed into the meat. We must allow God to rub us into the world, without our becoming like the world. We may fear that we will disappear, and disappear we may. But that is the point: Salt dispenses its power as it dissolves into the world’s flesh. That is when its effect is greatest. As pungent people, empowered by the presence of Christ’s Spirit within us, we are to penetrate society. We are to become involved in life—in the community, in our schools, in politics, in our neighborhoods, in the world at large. Does this text affirm us or mock us? Are we salt?
THE DESALTED CHURCH
Is there such a thing as a desalted church? Our Lord indicates this is a possibility: “… if the salt loses it saltiness.” Some translations render this “tasteless.” In actual fact, salt is an extremely stable compound and does not become tasteless. The consensus of most scholars is that Jesus is referring to its adulteration or dilution, which can happen in several ways that we will not go into. The point is, it is dangerously easy for Christians to lose their salty, preserving influence in the world. While many believers are pungent and salty, there are others who are virtually indistinguishable from the surrounding culture. I do not think any of us can look at professing Christianity at large or at American Christianity or at our local Christianity or at our own hearts without admitting that the possibility of saltless, insipid, bland Christianity is very real.
The reality is, to use a different analogy, if we are not heating the world, the world is freezing us. We export our influence on those around us, but if there are more imports than exports, if there are not greater influences going out from us than are coming in, we will become like the world. If we are not salting the world, the world is making us rot. The great tragedy is that often the world does us more harm than we do it good.
We need to ask ourselves if there is any difference between our approach to materialism, for example, than that of the world. Are there any distinctions between our approach to pleasure than that of unbelievers? Do we approach happiness differently? Is there a difference in our application of ethics? Does our compassion know the limitations of the world, or is it stronger? The answers to these questions will reveal whether the salt is penetrating the meat or if the salt is being adulterated. We must answer these questions with a conscience informed by the Word of God.
THE RE-SALTED CHURCH
Can a church be re-salted? The Lord brought this question up when he asked, “How can it be made salty again?” As we have said, salt cannot lose its saltiness, and therefore it cannot again be made salty. I believe Jesus is talking about salt that is so adulterated it has lost its preservative powers. In the context of his times Christ is saying that if salt has lost its savor, there is no natural hope for it. Is there any hope for us if we have become desalted? The answer is no—not in ourselves anyway. However, Jesus extends the metaphor into the supernatural, and here we must say that the answer is yes! Jesus is not saying that if a Christian loses his pungency, he cannot get it back, even by going to the source from which it came. Nothing but our own sin can keep us from being resalted.
I once met a man who, in his sixties, was re-salted. He told me about how his life had become bland and insipid, and then he was confronted again with the necessity of a vital life for Jesus Christ and committed his life to him. For the next ten years of his life he was incredibly salty in the world. The effect of his life is literally known by thousands. So one can be re-salted!
But there is an urgency in what Jesus had to say, and the urgency is seen in the concluding sentence of verse 13 as he warned about the destiny of saltless salt: “It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled by men.” Nothing good can be done with saltless salt. All it is good for is to be tossed onto the road where perhaps it will fill in a few cracks as it is further adulterated. There, since it has lost its pungent saltiness, it sterilizes the soil and retards plant growth, bringing to the roadway a blighted barrenness. This substance, so beneficial in its pungent, pure form, now brings only desolation. The Christian life that has lost its saltiness is good for nothing at all! There is only one thing to do with it—throw it away and walk on it. We see testimony of this in church history. We search in vain for the once-great churches of Asia Minor with their flourishing parishes. The churches of Corinth and Ephesus are all but nonexistent. We look in vain for the church of North Africa where the great Augustine ministered. Salt that lost its saltiness was cast out and was trodden underfoot by the men of this world. This does not mean a loss of salvation but of vibrancy and fruitful testimony.
Seeing this, we must dispense with any illusion that the churches of western Christianity are eternal. The reality is that much organized Christianity is already falling because it has lost its pungency. The best evangelical traditions are not immune from inconsistency, preaching that is barely Biblical, and a status-quo mentality. I am sometimes asked, “Are evangelicals born again?” And the answer is, “Not necessarily.” True Christianity lives the Beatitudes, however imperfectly. True Christianity is pungent and salty.
Yet with all of this, Christ’s expression of this metaphor is essentially positive. Jesus said, “You [emphatic: you alone] are the salt of the earth.” Jesus says, “I believe in you. I have called you.” Jesus believes that we can have a healing, preserving influence on our own society and world. He believes that we can bring flavor to life—that we can make the world thirsty for him.
We are salt, and he wants us to cultivate our saltiness by constantly communing with him and being constantly filled with the Spirit. Then he wants us to get out of the saltshaker and into the world—rubbed into the rotting wounds of the world. And he wants us to remember that though we are not much, a little salt goes a long way!
10
“The Light of the World”
MATTHEW 5:14–16
The story of how Jesus identified himself as “the light of the world” is remarkably beautiful and instructive. It happened on the day following the spectacular nighttime ceremony known as the Illumination of the Temple, which took place in the temple treasury before four massive golden candelabra that were topped with huge torches. It is said that the candelabra were as tall as the highest walls of the temple, and that at the top of these candelabra were mounted great bowls that held sixty-five liters of oil. There was a ladder for each candelabrum, and when evening came, healthy young priests would carry oil up to the great bowls and light the protruding wicks. Eyewitnesses said that the huge flames that leapt from these torches illuminated not only the temple but all of Jerusalem. After the torches were roaring high above the people, the Mishna tells us:
Men of piety and good works used to dance before them with burning torches in their hands singing songs and praises and countless Levites played on harps, lyres, cymbals, and trumpets and instruments of music.
The exotic rite celebrated the great pillar of fire (the glorious cloud of God’s presence) that led the people of Israel during their sojourn in the wilderness and spread its fiery billows over the tabernacle.
It was in the temple treasury the following morning, with the charred torches still in place, that Jesus lifted his voice above the crowd and proclaimed, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life” (John 8:12). There could scarcely be a more emphatic way to announce one of the supreme truths of his existence. Christ was saying in effect, “The pillar of fire that came between you and the Egyptians, the cloud that guided you by day in the wilderness and illumined the night and enveloped the tabernacle, the glorious cloud that filled Solomon’s temple—that was me!” Jesus is the light of the world! He is everything suggested by the storied cloud of glory. Moreover, he is everything suggested by the glowing metaphor of light—and much more.
This great fact that he is the light of the world is foundational to our thinking and must control it as we examine the unforgettable words of Matthew 5:14–16, where our Lord applies the metaphor to us.
THE SPIRITUAL FACTS ABOUT LIGHT IN THE WORLD
The foundational fact that Jesus is the light of the world is glorious, but it suggests the equally foundational but inglorious fact that the world is in darkness. The physical earth is shrouded with dark clouds, suspended in dark space. The darkness of the world is a spiritual darkness that dominates the entire world system, and it is terrible. But the real horror is that the inhabitants of the earth love it! John tells us, “This is the verdict: Light has come into the world, but men loved darkness instead of light because their deeds were evil” (John 3:19). Darkness by itself is one thing, but intentional darkness is far worse. To be subject to the darkness of the night before the dawn is one thing, but it is quite another thing to deliberately live in caves and refuse to come to the light. Why this preference for darkness? John tells us that the world loves darkness because its deeds are evil. Unconsciously, and sometimes consciously, the world reasons very much as Lady Macbeth did as she planned a murder:
Come, thick night,
And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell,
That my keep knife see not the wound it makes,
Nor Heaven peep through the blanket of the dark.
That is a grim, unhappy picture, but it is Biblical and therefore true. The world is in darkness.
But it is the reality of the world’s darkness that makes Jesus’ pronouncement so thrilling. “You [emphatic: you alone] are the light of the world [and no one else!].” If we are truly believers, we are the light of the world! To say such a thing about ourselves without divine precedent and sanction would be the height of arrogance. But Jesus said it, and it is easily one of the most amazing statements to ever fall from Christ’s lips—especially realizing what we are like when left to ourselves. It is a fact—we are light.
How can this be? Dr. Barnhouse, the master of illustration, used to explain it this way. He said that when Christ was in the world, he was like the shining sun that is here in the day and gone at night. When the sun sets, the moon comes up. The moon, the church, shines, but not with its own light. It shines with reflected light. When Jesus was in the world he said, “I am the light of the world.” But as he contemplated leaving this world, he said, “You are the light of the world.” At times the church has been at full moon, dazzling the world with an almost daytime light. These have been times of great enlightenment, times such as those of Paul and Luther and Wesley. And at other times the church has been only a thumbnail moon, with very little light shining upon the earth. Whether the church is a full moon or a new thumbnail moon, waxing or waning, it reflects the light of the sun.
Our light is a reflected or derived light. It does not originate from us. That is a great illustration, as far as it goes. However, I believe the Scriptures teach that the light is more than reflected, that we in fact become light ourselves. Ephesians 5:8 says, “for you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Live as children of light.” Somehow our incorporation in Christ allows us to some extent to be light, however imperfect. Our light is still derived from him—not a ray of it comes from ourselves—but it is more than reflected. We “participate in the divine nature,” as Peter says (2 Peter 1:4). This is a mystery.
But the beautiful thing is, it works! The church has had some great shining lights. When the English martyrs Hugh Latimer and Nicholas Ridley were being taken to the stake to be burned, Latimer turned to Ridley and said, “Be of good cheer, Brother Ridley, we have lighted such a candle in England as by the grace of God shall never be put out.” Latimer and Ridley continue to shine as great lights in the world. There are also lesser lights, for the mystery works for all believers, even children. When my now grown daughter Holly was in the first grade, she weekly approached her teacher, Mrs. Smith, and timidly said, “Mrs. Smith, will you come to church?” Mrs. Smith would promise to do so. And when Mrs. Smith did not show up, Holly would approach her on Monday morning and say, “Mrs. Smith, you didn’t come to church.” Who could resist those big, sad, brown eyes? Finally Mrs. Smith came, and she came again, and she came to know Jesus. Today she is a remarkable, radiant sunbeam herself. This is a mystery, and it is beautiful. Somehow believers shine with the light of Christ, and it goes forth with life-changing effect. The facts are: Jesus is the light; the world is in darkness; somehow believers are light. If we are believers, we will shine somehow, some way.
The question is, how can we shine even more? A man returning from a journey brought his wife a matchbox that would glow in the dark. After he gave it to her, she turned out the light, but it could not be seen. Both thought they had been cheated. Then the wife noticed some French words on the box and asked a friend to translate them. The inscription said: “If you want me to shine in the night, keep me in the light.” So it is with us! We must expose ourselves to Jesus, delight in his Word, and spend time in prayer soaking up his rays. As Paul says:
And we, who with unveiled faces all reflect the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into his likeness with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit. (2 Corinthians 3:18)
If you want to shine in the night, keep your eye on the Light.
THE SPIRITUAL FUNCTION OF LIGHT IN THE WORLD
Our Lord dramatizes the function of light by giving two examples—a city perched on a hill and a light set in a home. First, believers are to function like a city set on a hill. Jesus says, “A city on a hill cannot be hidden” (v. 14b). There is no way to obscure a city on the crest of a hill. Having traveled a little in Ecuador, I can testify that the light of the city of Quito, situated at 10,000 feet, illumines the sky for seventy-five miles around. It cannot be hidden. Yet when you are in the great city itself, the light from the tiny villages higher above in the Andes is easily seen. Cities on hills cannot be hidden. Believers are like this. They are visible. There is no such thing as an invisible believer. As Dr. Lloyd-Jones said, “If we find in ourselves a tendency to put the light under a bushel, we must begin to examine ourselves and make sure that it really is ‘light.’ ”
That is good, gracious advice! Do we hide our light? And if so, are we really light? Christians are visible, and this visibility makes them like the beckoning lights of a city on a hill. Inside there is light and what goes with it—warmth and safety.
In addition to being like a hilltop city, Christians are like an ancient household lamp. Jesus goes on to say, “Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house” (v. 15).
The point is unmistakable: The principal function of a household lamp, and of a believer, is to provide illumination to all around. This simple metaphor tells us so much. Light reveals things as they really are. All of us have at some time walked into an unfamiliar room and have felt our way to the lamp and turned the light on, discovering a room far different from what we imagined. Light also promotes life. In metropolitan Chicago where I live and minister, summer patio plants flourish in the basement all winter if we provide them with enough light—even if it is artificial. Even broken bones mend faster if we can soak up some sunlight. Light is persistent. It constantly assaults the surface of the earth and will penetrate the slightest crack. The darkest place is not safe from it if the tiniest opening appears. Light also awakens us.
Jesus, our Captain and Model, did all of these things and more by bringing spiritual light into the world. He did not make the darkness darker—he simply made it felt. His life was such that men and women were made to feel what they could not feel before—their sin, imperfection, and impurity. Christ made possible a clearer distinction between good and evil. He eliminated the option of thinking ourselves good by comparison with others. He was and is the standard! At the same time his perfectly beautiful life drew men and women to him. We are lamps, and the Householder places us strategically. “Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand.” The light is placed strategically so it can shine to best advantage. And God does the placing. We are simply to shine where we are placed. In fact, it is in the darker and less promising places that light has the greatest effect. Consider Dr. Boris Kornfeldt who shared his faith with the diseased and sickly Alexander Solzhenitsyn in the Russian Gulag. God calls us to shine where we are. “Brighten the corner where you are.”
How beautiful this all is! God has made us visible like a city on a hill. God has enabled us to illumine life like a lamp in a dark room. God has placed us where he wants us to shine to best advantage. Our presence is meant to reveal life, sin, and goodness as they are—to provide a light that draws others to it like a summer lamp. How beautiful it is when this happens. Some time ago a young man spent a week with my family. He had lived across the street from us a number of years earlier. He had been just a boy then but was a strapping 6’4” when he came to stay with us, visiting one of my sons. During that time he committed his life to Christ because of the light he had seen over the years. How wonderful it is when we see this occur.
THE SPIRITUAL RESPONSIBILITY THAT THESE FACTS AND FUNCTIONS BRING
The facts and functions of light in our lives and world bring us a great responsibility. Our Lord is very explicit about this: “In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven” (v. 16). This is a command, not a suggestion. Jesus says, “If you are light, then shine!” This is not an option. Let us keep the emotion of this imperative before us as we consider what he says. The mode of shining, he tells us, is “good deeds.” The word he uses is kalos, which carries the idea of attractiveness or beauty, rather than the more common agathos, which means good in quality. Jesus wants our light to shine through beautiful, attractive works! Of course, he is not recommending self-conscious, staged works. Yet he does suggest that we should let them be beautiful. Our Lord would thus tell us that works of compassion and caring are top-priority. John Stott says it well:
Indeed, the primary meaning of “works” must be practical, visible deeds of compassion. It is when people see these, Jesus said, that they will glorify God, for they embody the good news of his love which we proclaim. Without them our gospel loses its credibility and our God his honour.
And why should we be given to beautiful, shining works? “… that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven.” All glory to God! Soli Deo Gloria. As David said, “Not to us, O LORD, not to us but to your name be the glory” (Psalm 115:1). May that be our prayer as well.
Jesus’ pronouncement “You [you alone] are the light of the world” is amazing and thrilling. It suggests that we become like him in relation to this world. We would not have dared to say it, but he did—to our everlasting amazement.
As light, becoming like him, we are sure to prevail. Ultimately he will completely vanquish the forces of darkness.
As by the sun in splendour
The flags of night are furled,
So darkness will surrender
To Christ who lights the world.
The day is coming when darkness will be gone.
Moreover, in eternity we will be part of the shining light ourselves. Jesus said at the end of the Mystery Parables that “The righteous will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their Father” (Matthew 13:43). That is us—you and me! How can that be? I am not sure. C. S. Lewis once noted that the heavens only reflect or suggest the glory of God. But we share the glory of the Father with Christ. And we will be more glorious than the heavens. Lewis says:
Nature is mortal. We shall outlive her. When all the suns and nebulae have passed away, each one of you will still be alive. Nature is only the image, the symbol.… We are summoned to pass in through nature beyond her to the splendor which she fitfully reflects.
I believe that with all my heart. I do not understand it, but I believe that for us as Christians there is a glory awaiting us that involves, in some way, an even greater shining forth. I do not know if we will be 100 watts or 200, 300, or 1,000! We might be like fireflies or we might be like supernovas. But somehow we are going to enter into the fame and approval of God, and we will be glorious beings, far beyond all imagination.
But at the same time we are light right now. Jesus says, “You [you alone] are the light of the world.” Let us covenant with all our being to shine as brightly as possible in this dark world. Let us covenant to expose ourselves to the face of Jesus in prayer. Let us covenant to be visible for him. Let us covenant to shine wherever he places us. Let us covenant to do beautiful works. Let us covenant to remind ourselves that we always will be light—and to live in that reality.
(3) Salt and Light (5:13–16)
13 “You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled by men.
14 “You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden.
15 Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. 16 In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven.
5:13–14 In light of the countercultural perspectives enunciated in the Beatitudes, it would be easy to assume that Jesus was calling his followers to a separatistic or quasimonastic life-style. Here Jesus proclaims precisely the opposite. Christians must permeate society as agents of redemption. Of the numerous things to which salt could refer in antiquity, its use as a preservative in food was probably its most basic function. Jesus thus calls his disciples to arrest corruption and prevent moral decay in their world. One must avoid assuming that all possible uses of salt were in view here. We may today think of salt primarily as a spice giving flavor; but given the amount of salt needed to preserve meat without refrigeration, it is not likely that many ancient Jews considered salt primarily as enhancing taste. “Loses its saltiness” reads more literally “is defiled.” This is not the scientifically impossible notion of salt becoming flavorless but rather the common problem in the ancient world of salt being mixed with various impure substances and therefore becoming worthless as a preservative.
“To be thrown out and trampled by men” neither affirms nor denies anything about “eternal security.” Rather, as Luke 14:35 makes even clearer, this phrase refers to the world’s response to Christians if they do not function as they should. Believers who fail to arrest corruption become worthless as agents of change and redemption. Christianity may make its peace with the world and avoid persecution, but it is thereby rendered impotent to fulfill its divinely ordained role. It will thus ultimately be rejected even by those with whom it has sought compromise.
5:15–16 Of the various possible uses of light, Jesus obviously has in mind the bringing of illumination through the revelation of God’s will for his people. Since Jesus is the Light of the world (John 8:12; 9:5), so also his followers should reflect that light. Like lights from a city illuminating the dark countryside or a lamp inside a house providing light for all within it, Christians must let their good works shine before the rest of the world so that others may praise God. The good works are most naturally seen as the “fruits in keeping with repentance” of 3:8. This verse does not contradict 6:1 because there the motive for good behavior in public is self-glorification rather than bringing glory to God.
Both metaphors of salt and light raise important questions about Christian involvement in society regarding all forms of separatism or withdrawal. We are not called to control secular power structures; neither are we promised that we can Christianize the legislation and values of the world. But we must remain active preservative agents, indeed irritants, in calling the world to heed God’s standards. We dare not form isolated Christian enclaves to which the world pays no attention.
The Sermon on the Mount is one of the most misunderstood messages that Jesus ever gave. One group says it is God’s plan of salvation, that if we ever hope to go to heaven we must obey these rules. Another group calls it a “charter for world peace” and begs the nations of the earth to accept it. Still a third group tells us that the Sermon on the Mount does not apply to today, but that it will apply at some future time, perhaps during the Tribulation or the millennial kingdom.
I have always felt that Matthew 5:20 was the key to this important sermon: “For I say unto you, that except your righteousness shall exceed the righteousness of the scribes and Pharisees, ye shall in no case enter into the kingdom of heaven.” The main theme is true righteousness. The religious leaders had an artificial, external righteousness based on Law. But the righteousness Jesus described is a true and vital righteousness that begins internally, in the heart. The Pharisees were concerned about the minute details of conduct, but they neglected the major matter of character. Conduct flows out of character.
Whatever applications the Sermon on the Mount may have to world problems, or to future events, it is certain that this sermon has definite applications for us today. Jesus gave this message to individual believers, not to the unsaved world at large. What was taught in the Sermon on the Mount is repeated in the New Testament epistles for the church today. Jesus originally gave these words to His disciples (Matt. 5:1), and they have shared them with us.
In this chapter, Jesus gave three explanations about true, spiritual righteousness.
What True Righteousness Is (Matt. 5:1–16)
Being a master Teacher, our Lord did not begin this important sermon with a negative criticism of the scribes and Pharisees. He began with a positive emphasis on righteous character and the blessings that it brings to the life of the believer. The Pharisees taught that righteousness was an external thing, a matter of obeying rules and regulations. Righteousness could be measured by praying, giving, fasting, etc. In the Beatitudes and the pictures of the believer, Jesus described Christian character that flowed from within.
Imagine how the crowd’s attention was riveted on Jesus when He uttered His first word: “Blessed.” (The Latin word for blessed is beatus, and from this comes the word beatitude.) This was a powerful word to those who heard Jesus that day. To them it meant “divine joy and perfect happiness.” The word was not used for humans; it described the kind of joy experienced only by the gods or the dead. “Blessed” implied an inner satisfaction and sufficiency that did not depend on outward circumstances for happiness. This is what the Lord offers those who trust Him!
The Beatitudes describe the attitudes that ought to be in our lives today. Four attitudes are described here.
Our attitude toward ourselves (v. 3). To be poor in spirit means to be humble, to have a correct estimate of oneself (Rom. 12:3). It does not mean to be “poor spirited” and have no backbone at all! “Poor in spirit” is the opposite of the world’s attitudes of self-praise and self-assertion. It is not a false humility that says, “I am not worth anything, I can’t do anything!” It is honesty with ourselves: we know ourselves, accept ourselves, and try to be ourselves to the glory of God.
Our attitude toward our sins (vv. 4–6). We mourn over sin and despise it. We see sin the way God sees it and seek to treat it the way God does. Those who cover sin or defend sin certainly have the wrong attitude. We should not only mourn over our sins, but we should also meekly submit to God (see Luke 18:9–14; Phil. 3:1–14).
Meekness is not weakness, for both Moses and Jesus were meek men (Num. 12:3; Matt. 11:29). This word translated “meek” was used by the Greeks to describe a horse that had been broken. It refers to power under control.
Our attitude toward the Lord (vv. 7–9). We experience God’s mercy when we trust Christ (Eph. 2:4–7), and He gives us a clean heart (Acts 15:9) and peace within (Rom. 5:1). But having received His mercy, we then share His mercy with others. We seek to keep our hearts pure that we might see God in our lives today. We become peacemakers in a troubled world and channels for God’s mercy, purity, and peace.
Our attitude toward the world (vv. 10–16). It is not easy to be a dedicated Christian. Our society is not a friend to God nor to God’s people. Whether we like it or not, there is conflict between us and the world. Why? Because we are different from the world and we have different attitudes.
As we read the Beatitudes, we find that they represent an outlook radically different from that of the world. The world praises pride, not humility. The world endorses sin, especially if you “get away with it.” The world is at war with God, while God is seeking to reconcile His enemies and make them His children. We must expect to be persecuted if we are living as God wants us to live. But we must be sure that our suffering is not due to our own foolishness or disobedience.
What True Righteousness Is (Matt. 5:1–16)
Being a master Teacher, our Lord did not begin this important sermon with a negative criticism of the scribes and Pharisees. He began with a positive emphasis on righteous character and the blessings that it brings to the life of the believer. The Pharisees taught that righteousness was an external thing, a matter of obeying rules and regulations. Righteousness could be measured by praying, giving, fasting, etc. In the Beatitudes and the pictures of the believer, Jesus described Christian character that flowed from within.
Imagine how the crowd’s attention was riveted on Jesus when He uttered His first word: “Blessed.” (The Latin word for blessed is beatus, and from this comes the word beatitude.) This was a powerful word to those who heard Jesus that day. To them it meant “divine joy and perfect happiness.” The word was not used for humans; it described the kind of joy experienced only by the gods or the dead. “Blessed” implied an inner satisfaction and sufficiency that did not depend on outward circumstances for happiness. This is what the Lord offers those who trust Him!
The Beatitudes describe the attitudes that ought to be in our lives today. Four attitudes are described here.
Our attitude toward ourselves (v. 3). To be poor in spirit means to be humble, to have a correct estimate of oneself (Rom. 12:3). It does not mean to be “poor spirited” and have no backbone at all! “Poor in spirit” is the opposite of the world’s attitudes of self-praise and self-assertion. It is not a false humility that says, “I am not worth anything, I can’t do anything!” It is honesty with ourselves: we know ourselves, accept ourselves, and try to be ourselves to the glory of God.
Our attitude toward our sins (vv. 4–6). We mourn over sin and despise it. We see sin the way God sees it and seek to treat it the way God does. Those who cover sin or defend sin certainly have the wrong attitude. We should not only mourn over our sins, but we should also meekly submit to God (see Luke 18:9–14; Phil. 3:1–14).
Meekness is not weakness, for both Moses and Jesus were meek men (Num. 12:3; Matt. 11:29). This word translated “meek” was used by the Greeks to describe a horse that had been broken. It refers to power under control.
Our attitude toward the Lord (vv. 7–9). We experience God’s mercy when we trust Christ (Eph. 2:4–7), and He gives us a clean heart (Acts 15:9) and peace within (Rom. 5:1). But having received His mercy, we then share His mercy with others. We seek to keep our hearts pure that we might see God in our lives today. We become peacemakers in a troubled world and channels for God’s mercy, purity, and peace.
Our attitude toward the world (vv. 10–16). It is not easy to be a dedicated Christian. Our society is not a friend to God nor to God’s people. Whether we like it or not, there is conflict between us and the world. Why? Because we are different from the world and we have different attitudes.
As we read the Beatitudes, we find that they represent an outlook radically different from that of the world. The world praises pride, not humility. The world endorses sin, especially if you “get away with it.” The world is at war with God, while God is seeking to reconcile His enemies and make them His children. We must expect to be persecuted if we are living as God wants us to live. But we must be sure that our suffering is not due to our own foolishness or disobedience.