The Three Hermits

Three hermits dwelt atop

a brooding forest glen

For sixty years they dwelt there,

praying without end

Nary a soul could seek them,

and fewer even cared

For men had lost their eyeballs

from thorns in sins ensnared.

Salting the wounds of sin

[Ed. note: As is characteristic of the author, he likes to break rules almost as soon as he has made them. Therefore, since he has most recently proscribed the “sermonizing” of the Sermon on the Mount, a project he had even more recently discontinued because of his naivete on spiritual matters, he has even more recently than the aforementioned twin occurrences decided to re-post a fun blogging he blogged about salt, saltiness, and things salty.]

Ye are the salt of the earth, but if the salt have lost his savour, wherewith shall it be salted? It is thenceforth good for nothing but to be cast out and trodden under foot of men. (Matthew 5:13)

First, a confession: When I was an evangelical, I wrote a tract about the “salt of the earth.” I aimed it at less-evangelical churches, and held that, if a church did not fulfill the Great Commission, it had “lost its salt” and was useless to God, and was destined to be cast under foot of men. Now I realize, how judgmental! Surely I am about as tasteless and bland as a mound of sotted slush on a worn marshlands cul-de-sac.

It seems there is a lot more to this proverbial saltiness than a few lines from the Gospels that are usually taken way out of context by modernist bible scholars. As an Orthodox Christian, I understand this verse to instruct us about the behavior of the Christian, and not necessarily his fealty to a “protefundacharismangelistic” interpretation of the Great Commission.

Context, as the Holy Church Fathers tell us, is crucial for one’s understanding of these passages. Matthew 5:13 happens upon the heels of the Beatitudes (“Blessed are the poor in spirit,” etc), thus the Beatitudes serve as a backdrop for the salt and light analogies coming up in 5:13-14. The Beatitudes establish the qualities that God wants us to adapt in order to be proven salty. “For first, the meek, and yielding, and merciful, and righteous, shuts not up his good deeds unto himself only, but also provides that these good fountains should run over for the benefit of others,” wrote St. John Chrysostom. “And he again who is pure in heart, and a peacemaker, and is persecuted for the truth’s sake; he again orders his way of life for the common good.”

In His Sermon on the Mount, Jesus was raising the bar in terms of the Virtues. They, His disciples, were going to be the foundation of the Church, visible to a sick and rotten world, and thus were charged with “salting” it. Salt is not sweet but is stinging, bitter, and necessary in small quantities for our survival. Think of it in a Christian context and one can see how much more valuable it is to be salty than sweet. The disciples of Christ would have to sprinkle their salt on the wounds of sin, often painfully, to cauterize such corruption. “It is not for you then to flatter and deal smoothly with men, but, on the contrary, to be rough and biting as salt is. When for thus offending men by reproving them ye are reviled, rejoice; for this is the proper effect of salt to be harsh and grating to the depraved palate. Thus the evil-speaking of others will bring you no inconvenience, but will rather be a testimony of your firmness,” St. John Chrysostom wrote.

The Explanation of the Gospel of Matthew, by the Blessed Theophylact, adds that Christ’s disciples must transfer their virtue to others around them just as salt seasons the food on which it is sprinkled. “The disciple of Christ ought to be like salt, that is, first he ought to be good himself and have no part in wickedness, and then he ought to transmit that goodness to others,” he writes. We are charged to be an influence of goodness in the world. “The Church is the salt that salts the whole world, preserving it from putridity,” said St. Ephraim of Syria.

This passage serves as a warning to the world: Christ and His disciples came to bring a spiritual astringent to a world oozing with evil. “This is the very use of salt, to sting the corrupt, and make them smart,” writes St. John Chrysostom.

Looking back, I was not so far off base when I wrote my “Salt of the Earth” tract back then. Because in fact this statement by Christ serves as a warning to the Church too. The Church must remain salty: When we cease doing that, it’s under foot we go! But so far, so good – the Holy Orthodox Church remains salty, still, after 1,976 years.

6) Reasons to Praise God: Imperfection

Those skeletons of sin can actually do us good because they can bring us closer to the Lord.

Wherefore, as by one man sin entered into the world, and death by sin; and so death passed upon all men, for that all have sinned. (Romans 5:12)

Ever get sick of second-guessing yourself? How about starting at the original sin, and blasting away at Adam & Eve for agreeing to take a bite.

Then again, we could go the other way and say, “Thank God we are imperfect…” Could Adam and Eve have known that they lived in perfection? Could they have appreciated God’s command not to eat of that tree to be a one-way ticket to death and deprivation? They demonstrated disobedience to God for us. Because of that, sin and death linger. But without out sin and death, we would not hold the ideals of eternity and perfection.

I for one would never have come to God if it wasn’t for sin. I had to crash and hit bottom pretty hard for me to plead to the Lord for His mercy.

Thank God for those little imperfections in our walk that serve to bring us closer to God. We know that, “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and forgive us our sins and to cleanse us of all unrighteousness.” (I John 1:9)

The feeling of reconciliation with God is tremendous. And without straying from His commands, we could not know that feeling for forgiveness. The prodigal son’s banquet was a moment of great joy. His upright brother may never had known such celebrations. Still, there is a joy, perhaps greater, that stems from perfection, from consistently staying away from sin, but no one is perfect, except for God. Jesus had the joy, but if we had not sin, would Christ’s coming have been necessary?