2 Corinthians 7:8-13

8 Even if I caused you sorrow by my letter, I do not regret it. Though I did regret it – I see that my letter hurt you, but only for a little while— 9 yet now I am happy, not because you were made sorry, but because your sorrow led you to repentance. For you became sorrowful as God intended and so were not harmed in any way by us. 10 Godly sorrow brings repentance that leads to salvation and leaves no regret, but worldly sorrow brings death. 11 See what this godly sorrow has produced in you: what earnestness, what eagerness to clear yourselves, what indignation, what alarm, what longing, what concern, what readiness to see justice done. At every point you have proved yourselves to be innocent in this matter. 12 So even though I wrote to you, it was neither on account of the one who did the wrong nor on account of the injured party, but rather that before God you could see for yourselves how devoted to us you are. 13 By all this we are encouraged.

Lent Is All About…

Lent is tricky. We have so many solemn, somber services. There are so many things that we do to make ourselves feel bad about ourselves. Just think about this service so far. We’ve confessed our sin in song and in the longest confessional rite that we will use this whole year. We have said or sung the words “Have mercy on us” more than 30 times in the last 15 minutes. Many of us came forward to let someone smear ash on our faces and remind us that we deserve to die for our sins. That’s pretty grim.

Not many people in this world will go to such great lengths – will have a special worship service on a Wednesday night – just to make themselves feel bad about themselves. But that’s kind of what Lent is all about, isn’t it? This is a season of repentance. This is a season of owning up to our mistakes and failures. This is a season of saying sorry for our sins.

If we feel bad about ourselves tonight, Lent reminds us that we have good reason to. Just think about those things we’ve said already:

For what we have done and left undone…
For sins that are known and those unknown…
For envy and pride, for closing our eyes; for scorning our very neighbour…
For hearts that are cold, for seizing control; for scorning our very maker…
We confess to you all our pride, hypocrisy, impatience, self-indulgent appetites, anger, greed, dishonesty, negligence in worship, indifference to injustice, contempt for those who differ from us.

The list could and does go on. If we feel bad about ourselves tonight, Lent reminds us that we have good reason to. We’re sinners. We have done what is evil and failed to do what is good. If you feel regret and shame and guilt tonight, then we’re doing something right.

But if regret and shame and guilt are your only takeaways from tonight – if an overwhelming awareness of your sinfulness is all you take away from Lent – then we have utterly failed.

Now, don’t get me wrong. You have to know that there are things you do everyday that are not just foolish or unwise. They aren’t just poor decisions or mistakes you’ve made. They are sins, i.e. damnable offenses, acts of rebellion against God and his commands. You have to know how little you deserve God’s love and how much and how often you have earned his wrath and judgment.

But that’s just one part of Lent. That’s just the first step in repentance. When Paul wrote to the Corinthians that he was happy that they were sorrowful, he wasn’t happy that they felt bad about themselves. He was happy that their sorrow led them to repentance. He says:

For you became sorrowful as God intended and… godly sorrow brings repentance that leads to salvation and leaves no regret.[1]

An important part of Lent is to acknowledge and admit our sin, and in more than just an academic sense. We have to be sincerely sorry that we did something God forbids or failed to do something God commands. To admit that something we did was wrong in God’s eyes but not feel bad about it – that would not be a virtue; it would make you a spiritual sociopath. These somber services, these ashes on our faces serve a very important purpose – they destroy whatever pride we have left in our hearts. They demolish any pretense of righteousness or worthiness inside us, and they leave us only one course of action – to throw ourselves at Jesus’ feet and do what we have done more than 30 times tonight – plead for his mercy.

That’s an uncomfortable place to be. It requires brutal honesty and raw vulnerability. But there is no better place for you to be than at Jesus’ mercy. The last verse of our hymn of the day puts it well. We haven’t sung it yet, but do me a favour – read it with me:

Although our sin is great indeed,
the grace of God is greater;
no loss we suffer can exceed
the help of our Creator.
Our shepherd good and true is he,
who will at last his people free
from all their sin and sorrow.

Lent isn’t about making a grand gesture of our guilt or wallowing in self-pity. It is about making a sincere confession of our sin, but then trusting in God’s mercy for forgiveness. And God’s mercy does not disappoint. As the hymn-writer puts it, no matter how great our sin is, God’s grace is greater. God’s grace put Jesus in your place. God’s grace clothed Jesus in the same dust and ashes that we wear, and condemned him to death for our sin, so that you could be free of both sin and sorrow.

Or, as Paul put it in his letter to the Corinthians:

Godly sorrow brings repentance that leads to salvation and leaves no regret.[2]

That’s not to say that we don’t wish we hadn’t sinned. It just means that we don’t wallow in guilt or live in fear. It means that our sin doesn’t define us; God’s grace does. It means that God’s forgiveness takes away our guilt and shame, and opens our eyes to the love that would lead Christ to the cross to sacrifice his life for ours, so that we could be set free from sin and so that we could be set free for him – so that he could produce in us something that we could have never accomplished on our own:

See what this godly sorrow has produced in you: what earnestness, what eagerness to clear yourselves, what indignation, what alarm, what longing, what concern, what readiness to see justice done.[3]

Lent is about confessing our sin and throwing ourselves at God’s mercy, but it is also and even more about rejoicing in the news that God sent his Son to forgive our sin, and then letting that forgiveness set us free from sin to live a new life, no longer all about serving the cravings of my sinful flesh but earnestly longing to lead a godly life.

And so we have structures and methods and traditions in place to help us. We smear ashes on our faces. We omit the most joyful songs from our worship services. But these are just stepping stones, the first parts of repentance that are preparing us – not to wallow in the guilt of Good Friday, but to rejoice in the resurrection of Easter Sunday and with it the announcement of our forgiveness and the hope of a new life, both here on earth and forever in heaven.

Lent is not God’s way to make you feel you bad about yourself. It’s his way to prepare you to celebrate the sacrifice Christ made for your sin and the forgiveness and hope and clean conscience that he provides for you, and finally to equip you to leave your sin behind and to learn and long for a good and godly life lived out of gratitude for him.

God bless this season for you. May he give you a humble heart, but hope-filled one, to confess your sins in the confidence of his forgiveness. May he fill you with peace and freedom and strength to change your heart and live for him. Amen.

[1] 2 Corinthians 7:9,10

[2] 2 Corinthians 7:10

[3] 2 Corinthians 7:11

Matthew 5:13-20

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 underfoot.
14 “You are the light of the world. A town built 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 others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.
17 “Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them. 18 For truly I tell you, until heaven and earth disappear, not the smallest letter, not the least stroke of a pen, will by any means disappear from the Law until everything is accomplished. 19 Therefore anyone who sets aside one of the least of these commands and teaches others accordingly will be called least in the kingdom of heaven, but whoever practices and teaches these commands will be called great in the kingdom of heaven. 20 For I tell you that unless your righteousness surpasses that of the Pharisees and the teachers of the law, you will certainly not enter the kingdom of heaven.”

You Are Salt and Light

I’ve gotten into the habit of making eggs for breakfast recently. What kinds of things do you put in your eggs? For me, it largely depends on what we have on hand. If we have bell peppers or onions I might dice them up. If it’s after Christmas and we have some leftover ham, you better believe there will be a pork product in there. Whatever cheese we have on hand – that just goes without saying. Then, to top it off, no matter what time of year it is, no matter what else I put in those eggs, I’ll reach into the cupboard and grab some salt.

Salt just makes everything taste better. And the best thing about salt is that you don’t have to check the expiration date, because salt doesn’t expire. You don’t have to squeeze it, sniff it, sample it to see if it is still good. Salt is salt is salt. It is reliable. You always know what you’re getting. So at any time of day, no matter how long it’s been in the cupboard, no matter what I’m making, I can grab some salt and count on it to do what salt does. I don’t have to give salt a pep talk before I use it, “Now go and be salty!” It just is, by its very nature.

You are salt. That’s what Jesus said in his Sermon on the Mount. We started studying this sermon last week. We’ll keep talking about it next week too. It’s the most famous sermon ever preached. It goes on for three chapters of Matthew’s Gospel and tells us so many things. Most of all, Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount is highly practical. Over and over again in this sermon Jesus tells us what a Christian is supposed to do.

Today’s portion of Jesus’ sermon is different, though, isn’t it? Jesus isn’t telling you what to do. He is telling you what you are. Jesus didn’t tell his disciples, “Now listen up. Here’s what I want you to do. I want you to go and be your saltiest self.” No, he said,

“You are the salt of the earth.”[1]

Over the centuries, Christians have debated what that means exactly. Since salt acts as a preservative, are we supposed to help preserve the world from the potential evils that could take place here? Since salt makes things taste better, are we supposed to spice up life with our own unique Christian flavour? I think that there is an element of both. But the way that Jesus himself explains this seven-word sentence leads me to believe that he isn’t talking about preservatives or spiciness. He’s talking about distinctiveness and consistency.

You can tell when there is salt in your eggs at breakfast. The world can tell when a Christian walks into the room.

Have you ever heard the expression that you are the only Bible that some people will ever read? It’s so true, especially where we live. I mentioned it a couple weeks ago – only 13% of Canadians go to church regularly. That means that 87% do not. That leaves a huge segment of your world that either doesn’t know Jesus at all – has never cracked open a Bible – or, at the very least, doesn’t know Jesus very well. You are the only Bible that many people in your life will ever read.

When you go to work, your coworkers are watching you. When you go to school, your classmates are listening. When you have a playdate or a birthday party with your family or friends, they’re paying attention. They are listening to the kinds of things you say and the way you say them. They notice if you’re nice or nasty to other people. They see you when you open the door for someone else or when you close your mouth instead of joining them in gossip or gutter talk.

They’re watching and they’re listening, but more importantly they are forming their impressions about Jesus and Christianity based on what they see and hear from you.

So what happens when you don’t bring a distinctive Christian flavour to your workplace or school? What happens when you slap a fish decal on the back bumper of your car and then drive like a self-obsessed maniac? What happens when you pick and choose the moments that you want to act or talk like a Christian, as if it’s OK for you to be good and prim and proper here, but as soon as you get to your friend’s house or to the restaurant or arena you “let your hair down” and let profanities spew out of the same mouth that sang God’s praises here?

Jesus tells us:

“But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to thrown out and be trampled underfoot.”[2]

A Christian who doesn’t act like a Christian is of no use to anyone. If you are inconsistent, insincere, or indifferent in your faith you’re not helping anybody else. In fact, you’re hurting other people because you’re giving them a false impression about Jesus. You are making it seem as if God doesn’t care about what people do. Or you are casting Jesus and his name in such a negative light that no one would want anything to do with him.

A Christian who doesn’t act like a Christian is of no use to anyone. If you are inconsistent, insincere, or indifferent in your faith, you’re not helping yourself either. Jesus says that you are not good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled underfoot. Your faith is dead and so is your hope of a future in heaven with him. That was the last verse of our text for today:

“For I tell you that unless your righteousness surpasses that of the Pharisees and the teachers of the law, you will certainly not enter the kingdom of heaven.”[3]

Is that intimidating to you – to know that you are the best, or maybe even the only, chance that some of the people you know and love will ever have to go to heaven? To know that you have to be “on” all the time because the world is watching you? It’s not just pastors who live in glass houses. Christian, the world is watching you. And so is your God, and heaven hangs in the balance, both for you and the people who are reading you.

Goodness, when you put it that way, I don’t know that I want to be salt or light to the world. Can I just retreat, withdraw, hole up in my house with my family and mind our own business? Can we just create a little Christian colony somewhere where we don’t have to worry about what other people see or hear or say? Well, no. That wouldn’t work either, because even there our righteousness would not surpass that of the Pharisees and teachers of the law. Heaven would still be barred to us.

But even more than that, Christian isolation is not possible, because that’s not God’s purpose for you. God didn’t tell you to be salty. He said, “You are salt.” God didn’t say, “Let your light shine before others so that they can see how great you are and how far your righteousness surpasses anyone else’s.” He said,

“You are the light of the world… Let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.”[4]

Sometimes when we hear sermons like this one, we bristle, we resist, we reject what we hear. We don’t want it to be true. I don’t want to be the only Bible that the people in my life will ever read. I know I can never live up to that. When I hear the to-do list of God’s holy law and the perfect standard that he sets for my obedience, I have no love in my heart for the commands of God. And yet, that law is still good.

Jesus says, “Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets” – but Jesus, wouldn’t that make my life so much easier?!? – “I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them.”[5] Now that actually does make my life so much easier.

Sometimes God’s commands and his perfect standard for our unrighteous seem so unattainable that it feels unfair and downright cruel for God to hold them over us. But God’s law is good. It was given for our good. When he tells us not to murder, cheat, or steal, he is protecting life and marriages and property. When he tells us not to lie or covet or show disrespect, he is protecting the truth and your satisfaction and your relationships. The fact that we cannot keep the law doesn’t make the law bad; it makes us bad.

In fact, the law is so good that if someone were able to keep it perfectly, he would get to go to heaven purely on the merits of his own goodness. Keeping the law is and has always has been a legitimate way to get to heaven. It’s just that no one has ever been able to live up to it – no one, of course, except Jesus.

Jesus did not come to abolish the Law or the Prophets, but to fulfill them. Talk about being the only Bible some people will ever read; he was the Word of God in the flesh. When people looked at him, they saw what God expects of you. When people listened to him, they did not hear hypocrisy or hatred or one more guy up on his high horse; they heard the truth and the love of God – that God hates sin and punishes it, but has forgiven you through his Son, i.e. his perfect, sinless, spotless Son who sacrificed himself in your place on a cross, who paid for your sin with his life, who opened heaven to you and countless others whose righteousness does not surpass that of the Pharisees and the teachers of the law, but whose hope is in him and his righteousness. He is the one who made you into the salt of the earth and the light of the world.

It can be scary to think that God wants your Christian faith and life to be as distinctive and consistent as salt is in scrambled eggs. It can be scary to think that God wants your Christian faith and life to be as obvious and visible as a city on a hill. But that is the grace and mercy of our God, that he took the weak things of this world, the small things, the unimportant things to shine a light on the most important thing. It is nothing but pure grace that Jesus calls you the light of the world, not because you are so bright and brilliant, but because like a mirror or the moon, even imperfectly you can nevertheless reflect the light of Christ to this sin-darkened world. Even though you fail and fumble in your faith, you can still embody the forgiveness of Jesus to you and then also through you to the world.

I thank God that Jesus’ command to you is not, “Be salty,” or “Be bright and brilliant.” It is his promise and a miracle of his grace that says, “You are salt; you are light.” That is what God has made you. The goal is not to be saltier or brighter. It is to be what God has made you distinctively and consistently and visibly. The goal is not to hide our light under a bushel or let our flavour taste like the world around us. It is not even to let other people see our good deeds so that they know how good we are, but so that they can know how good Jesus is.

You are the salt of the earth. You are the light of the world. May God work in you and through you to know God’s love and to show God’s love to the world in Christ Jesus our Lord. To him be all glory and honor and praise forever and ever. Amen.

[1] Matthew 5:13

[2] Matthew 5:13

[3] Matthew 5:20

[4] Matthew 5:14,16

[5] Matthew 5:17