Matthew 5 reveals what Jesus believes about us. He names us as three things: salt, light, and a city on a hill. Each of these exists for a purpose outside of itself. They exist for the world. Notice what Jesus does not say. He does not say, you will be or you should be. He says, “You are.” Take that in. Sit with it. Receive it—silently, for a moment.

Salt flavors and preserves, but it also stops growth. In the ancient world, conquering nations would tear down walls, burn buildings, and salt the earth so that nothing could grow. Light works the same way. Light illuminates beauty and it exposes what needs to be corrected. We are, as a church, a city on a hill like a lighthouse to the world.

Salt, light, and an elevated city are never for themselves, but for others. We are meant to preserve and enhance what is good in the world, and to undermine, expose, and destroy what is dysfunctional. By the integrity of our lives, we lift up the good, true, and beautiful, and expose the ugly, false, and evil.

In Acts 1, before Jesus ascends into heaven, the disciples ask if his kingdom is coming now. In other words: When do we fight the Roman enemy and establish Israel as a nation again? What you see in the Sermon on the Mount is Jesus’ radical redefinition of how the kingdom comes. We think that if God were truly becoming king, he would send in the tanks and wipe out the wicked. He would sweep them into the depths of the sea.

But no. When God becomes king, he sends the poor in spirit, the meek, those who mourn, the brokenhearted, those who hunger-for-justice. Through their humble service, God becomes king in ways the disciples could hardly imagine. By the second and third centuries, Christians were known for caring for the poor, building schools and orphanages, looking after the sick, and so on.

This is subversive. To love enemies.

In recent events Minneapolis. When protesters gathered outside a church, a man named Phillips felt called to respond not with fear, but as salt and light. He and his girlfriend offered to pray with some of the protesters who were not being as aggressive. “We went up to them, and we said, ‘Hey, can we pray with you?’ And they said, ‘yes’... So, we laid hands on their shoulders, and we prayed with them. We prayed for the  peace of the Twin Cities. We prayed peace and blessings for them, because scripture says, ‘Bless those who curse you.’ And they were literally cursing at us. And we decided to bless them because that’s what scripture says.”

We value all people on every side of divisive issues like these. Without vibrant Christians, the world is a much worse place. We lose our way. We saw this same subversive witness in Charleston ten years ago, when a black church publicly forgave the man who murdered nine black parishioners.

This is subversive.

And when the Church fails to live this way, the consequences are devastating. Where was the Church in Germany in the 1930s? In the Soviet Union during Stalin’s atrocities? Christianity had grown so weak that evil was allowed to flourish. Most Christians either acquiesced or simply didn’t care.

A weak Christianity is a disaster for the world.

So we must ask ourselves: in our families, our relationships, our politics—why have we not been salt, light, and a city on a hill? Hope begins and continues with each of us. Through the humbling work of the Holy Spirit. That ministry of the Spirit in us bears witness to the love of God and sustains our fellowship with him.

Last week, Dustin spoke about the presence of God in our liturgy. When Christ leads our liturgy with hearts set on fire for him, loving him, praising him, scripture tells us that angels are present because they love being where Christ is lifted up.