‘In The Poo’
When Jesus called his first followers to be the salt of the earth, they would have understood it in three different ways, because there were three fundamental uses of salt when they were growing up.
First, salt was a preservative. It was used to preserve meat and fish from rotting. There was obviously no Harvey Norman refrigeration back in those days, so if fish or meat was going to last in the sweltering Middle Eastern climate, it needed to be salted. So thanks to salt, the whole meat market expanded. Think of our big refrigeration trucks and the impact this technology has made on what is available on our supermarket shelves.
Dig a little deeper, and there is a subtle but important distinction going on here.
The salt was different to the meat or the fish. It was in the meat, but it was not the meat itself. So we're supposed to be distinct from the world, in it, but not of it. There is also an ancient thinking that the animal and fish that were being preserved were already dead; salt would serve almost as a life preserver, something that would keep the meat or fish filets from going off. Salt, therefore, almost had a sense of the resurrection. Giving a new life.
The second function of salt in Jesus’ time is one we’ve maintained today: to give flavour to the food we consume. A little bit of salt, we know, can influence a whole meal. This points to the fact that we, as salt of the earth, are called to enhance others' lives so that they can “taste and see the goodness of the Lord”
Jesus came so that his joy might be in us and our joy complete, so that we might have life and have it to the full. He calls us salt to show what real joy in life is, to be people who are profoundly happy even in the simplest things, who know they are truly blessed because they live in Him who is the cause of our joy. By calling us to be salt, the Master is saying that we need to bring that joy and sparkle to the world, especially to those places and people where joy is diminished or, sadly, even absent altogether.
And you do this, and you do it really well. I have seen you do it, and I have been thrilled and inspired.
Finally, the purpose of salt was to start a fire. I apologise if what I’m about to say is a bit icky, but it’s key to grasping what the teacher was on about. In the days when Joseph was a carpenter and Peter was a fisherman, folk would take dried animal dung, mix it with a lot of salt and then light it on fire. The dung alone couldn’t be ignited, but when it was mixed with salt, ta da! The salt would be able to be lit and then would gradually heat the dung, which kept its heat for a really long time. Salt was the ancient equivalent of firelighters or lighter fluid for a barbecue. So salt can redeem almost anything, even turning excrement into something good and useful. You and I are supposed to be fire-starters. We are supposed to be easily lit and capable of inflaming others with the love of Christ. So we shouldn’t be waiting for someone else to light a fire under us, to stay put until someone else makes the first move. You and I are supposed to be the firelighters or lighter fluid. Even if we’re surrounded by what seems poo and muck, Jesus is reminding us that by our baptism and ignited by the fire of the Holy Spirit in Confirmation, we’re supposed to be ringmasters of goodness, the people who turn things around and right side up.
And so what if it is in the poo that we do some of our finest work? Maybe it is in the yucky stuff that we start a fire, and to illustrate how this might be possible, I’d like to conclude with a little story.
On a post-funeral visit, I went to see Mrs. Kaffoops. I’d always assumed that Mr. & Mrs Kaffoops had a pretty ideal life and marriage, and everything had been ticketyboo. But now with her husband safely ensconced on the other side of the grave, Mrs. Kaffoops felt free to sally forth and tell all. It turns out that much mawkish stuff had plopped on this happy couple over the years. I think Mrs. Kaffoops used different words, but you get the idea. Some of the dung was self-induced and a natural consequence of sin, and some stuff, well… sometimes it just fell on them.
Then she turned to me, looked me in the eye and in one of those rare, undeserved, privileged moments said something like this.
Fr. David, we may not have been perfect, but we really did love each other, and it was when we were really deep in the poo that we knew that we loved each other, and we did some of our finest work together. That’s when we knew we were truly married.”
Maybe it is when we are in the poo that we do some of our finest work, and we start a fire.