Beauty Is Our Duty

 

Today’s gospel reading:

"You are the salt of the earth.
But if salt loses its taste, with what can it be seasoned?
It is no longer good for anything
but to be thrown out and trampled underfoot.
You are the light of the world.
A city set on a mountain cannot be hidden.
Nor do they light a lamp and then put it under a bushel basket;
it is set on a lampstand,
where it gives light to all in the house.
Just so, your light must shine before others,
that they may see your good deeds
and glorify your heavenly Father."

This is a critical passage in the Sermon on the Mount, following immediately after the Beatitudes, in which Jesus identifies his flock, the good people of the earth. It is, therefore, the very core of the Christian message.

No sermon I have ever heard gets it right.

What does it mean to be the salt of the earth? What good deeds cause your light to shine?

Not moral deeds, like helping old ladies cross the street, or volunteering at a soup kitchen. You might think so. Everybody seems to think so. But this interpretation is not tenable. For in the same sermon, a few verses on, Jesus says 

“Be careful not to practice your righteousness in front of others to be seen by them. If you do, you will have no reward from your Father in heaven. ... But when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving may be in secret. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.” Matthew 6: 1-4.

Now, obviously, God is not going to contradict himself. The deeds he is speaking of doing in full view of as many as possible, letting your light shine like a city on a hill, are obviously not these deeds of righteousness. For all that it is good to do what is morally good, this is not what he is speaking of here.

What else counts as a deed?

Simple hard work? Hard manual labour? This does seem to be the meaning some take from this. But most jobs do not seem to shed light over the world, or give it more flavour. And Martha was told that Mary, in not pitching in with the housework, had chosen the better part.

What is it that gives savour to the world? What introduces taste to the world? What makes the drabness of the world seem brighter?

The obvious answer is beauty. Beauty brings grace, light, and savour to our lives.

Which is to say, Christians are commanded to produce art. By these fruits you will know them.

It is what we can do, as individuals, to genuinely improve the world. By having an attractive front garden, we are giving joy to every passerby. By painting flowers on the wall of the laundromat we operate; by singing in the choir; by composing rhymes; and, ideally, by letting our light shine as far as possible, by doing it in as public a way as we can. Unlike deeds of charity, best done in secret, in the case of art, exposing the work of beauty to as many people as we can increases the value of the deed.

Jesus is also telling us we have it in us to be artists, if we are God’s people, those described by the Beatitudes. It is significant that Jesus says “you are salt,” not, “you can be salt,” or “you should strive to be salt.” Necessarily, if you are one of God’s chosen, you have been given this gift, the ability to create beauty. 

It is your duty now to use the talents you have been given. See the parable of the talents, Matthew 25:14-30.

You should also cloth the naked, feed the hungry, and visit those in prison. This is also commanded. But this is not enough to justify our existence.  “The poor you will have always with you.”

The Salt of the Earth

Pentecost.

“You are the salt of the earth,

but if the salt has lost its flavor, with what will it be salted? It is then good for nothing, but to be cast out and trodden under the feet of men.
You are the light of the world.

A city located on a hill can’t be hidden. Neither do you light a lamp and put it under a measuring basket, but on a stand; and it shines to all who are in the house.

Even so, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good works and glorify your Father who is in heaven.”

Jesus ends the Beatitudes with this call to action. It is not enough to simply believe, know you are saved, and go about your business. Something is required of us.

And not only that—it seems to be required as well to rescue us from our present difficulties, our experience of oppression. If we do not do this, we are going to be trampled underfoot.

But what, exactly? “Good works,” the last verse says. And that is how it is commonly read: to go about doing good deeds, acts of mercy.

That seems reasonable enough; but those Jesus is calling here are already doing such good works. This is covered by “blessed are the merciful.” They are doing the corporal and spiritual acts of mercy.

So what is it they are now supposed to do differently?

Something resembling what salt does in food, or a lamp in a dark room.

And what is that? In a phrase, draw attention. Do something public and visible.

This cannot be good works in the conventional sense. For Jesus also tells us explicitly that we must do such good works in secret.

It must be some other kind of works.

The opposite is being tasteless, or hiding your lamp under a bushel.

This work is something that enhances, heightens, the senses.

The obvious example of a thing that enhances the senses? Art; beauty.

In fact, the primary meaning of the Greek word translated as “good,” in the phrase “good works,” is actually “beautiful.” “That they may see your beautiful works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven.”

The passage immediately prior says we are like the prophets.

Yet there is no need for prophets in the old sense: revelation is complete in the Bible.

Nevertheless, the Bible itself says prophecy continues.

At Pentecost, St. Peter addresses the crowd, and explains that these are now the last days. And he quotes the prophet Joel:

“It will be in the last days, says God, that I will pour out my Spirit on all flesh. Your sons and your daughters will prophesy. Your young men will see visions. Your old men will dream dreams.”

The apostles at Pentecost were prophesying; and prophesying is the essential Christian act.

What we call art today is simply what was called prophecy in ancient Israel. All true art is a glimpse of eternity, of God in heaven.

Granted that there is lots of immoral art. There were always false prophets. Immoral art is simply bad art.