A Prayer About Saltiness
“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 by men. “You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden. 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. In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven. Matthew 5:13-16
Dear Lord Jesus, the longer I live in this broken world, the more I find myself fantasizing about running off to Switzerland with my family, to live in a community of chalets with a few other “healthy” families, to disengage from the culture, eat good food, enjoy the Christian life and wait for the second coming of Jesus. For starters, I know I couldn’t afford to pay for such a selfish fantasy. But more importantly, this isn’t the life for which you saved me, nor the lifestyle to which you called me… and all of my brothers and sisters in Christ.
Jesus, you’ve called and commissioned us… your much-loved bride, your greatly-beloved church, to live as the “salt of the earth.” We’re not garlic, paprika or sugar, we’re salt. Salt preserves and fends off decay. Salt heals and sooths, it has medicinal value. Salt brings flavor and enhances other flavors. And salt only works when it’s out of the saltshaker… my own prayer convicts me, Jesus.
I’ve learned all these important things from the faithful men and women you’ve woven into my life in the journey of getting to know you better. The issue I’m wrestling with today is my own “saltiness,” and that of my friends. How does a believer lose their saltiness, Jesus? What’s involved in flavor-loss, heart-drift, and passion-leak? How do we turn a glowing lamp into a dim little candle? How do we go from preferring life as a “city on a hill,” to life as an ingrown community under a bowl, Swiss or otherwise?
Come, Holy Spirit, come! Always be restoring and refreshing me, and my friends, in the joy of your salvation for us in the gospel. Don’t let us lose our saltiness. Don’t let our lamps run out of oil. Don’t let us disengage from our calling.
Jesus, I never want to think about retiring, just refueling, renewing and refocusing… until you return to finish making all things new. So very Amen, I pray, in your exalted and matchless name.
