Brief synopsis of the readings: In the book of Isaiah, God demands that we share bread with the hungry and shelter the oppressed and homeless. By doing these things our “light shall break forth like the dawn, and your wound shall quickly be healed; your vindication shall go before you.” God then states that if we do this God will answer when we are in need. In Matthew’s Gospel Jesus continues from last week and tells those gathered that we are “salt of the earth” and “light of the world.” But if salt loses its flavor it will be thrown out. Finally, light gives light to all the house and all should be light so “that they may see your good deeds and glorify your heavenly Father.”

If you’ve ever heard someone described as the “salt of the earth” you now know where that came from. We think of someone like that as not only a good person but also someone who is worthy of the highest respect, someone who will never let you down and will be in your corner no matter what. In Judaism this person is called a mensch.

For those of us who aren’t cooks, salt is both a preservative and a flavor enhancer. Before we had easy access to refrigeration we found that salting meats and other foods would cut down on water content and prevent microbes from causing food poisoning. Salt made us safer. But salt also provides flavor. Lots of recipes will include salt, but often in small amounts: a dash of salt, a quarter teaspoon, etc. It hardly seems worth it to get out the salt shaker. But the secret to salt isn’t the salt itself; the instruction doesn’t want to make the dish salty. Instead it brings out other flavors, especially sweet and sour.

OK, enough food science. The point is, salt makes everything taste better by bringing out their own flavor. And because salt dissolves in water we can’t even tell if it’s there. People whose health requires a low salt will tell you in great detail how bland food tastes without salt. There’s a touching scene in the classic Christmas movie It’s A Wonderful Life where we see George Bailey blessing a house before the family moves in, saying this: “Bread that this house may never know hunger, salt that life may always have flavor and wine that joy and prosperity may reign forever.”

And so people who are (as Jesus describes) salt of the earth are people who have an effect well beyond their size. They are a “pinch of salt” in a much larger recipe. They bring out the good things in others. Perhaps through encouragement, perhaps through persistence. Or perhaps by shining a light. Light, in its own way, does much the same thing. Light doesn’t create anything but allows good things to be seen.

I’ve said this before, but even a point of light can be seen in darkness and that point has outsized power. We need to be willing to let light shine; as Jesus tells us in the Gospel, there’s no point in putting light under a bushel basket. And we’d never visit an art gallery with poor lighting. Like salt we need to let light do its magic.

And there’s more. We are called not just to add the salt or allow the light, we are called to be the salt and light. When we think about doing good things we often think of “doing.” But I think Jesus is talking about something deeper. I think Jesus calls us not just to be “a person who does good things” but a person who is good things. In 2016 we mourned the loss of the PBS journalist Gwen Ifill. One of her colleagues said this about her: “You could read by the light of her smile.” She didn’t shine the light or reflect the light, she was the light.

Likewise with people who are salt. The late TV host Mr. Rogers once said this: “When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.” He wasn’t talking about people who could be helpful, but people for whom helpfulness was part of who they were. You don’t need to ask for help because they’ve already helped you. You just needed to find them.

We’ve all seen bumper stickers that encourage us to practice random acts of kindness. But we also have the opportunity to provide anonymous acts of kindness, to be the person who doesn’t wait for the crisis. For example, giving blood. Giving blood requires the donor to make a donation in advance of the need and in a way that the recipient will never know the donor. By not knowing who helped, the recipient can look around and think it could be anyone.

Alas, this requires us to be salt and light without adulation. On some level we all want to be recognized for doing good things but that can also become a distraction and goal can become the gratitude of others. Looking generous matters more than being generous. Later in Matthew Jesus tells his disciples not to do good things so others will find out, but know that God sees what we do anonymously.

Of course we now find ourselves in a society that makes anonymity increasingly difficult. Our digital footprint is tracked and archived, license plate readers record our movements and we are encouraged to “set up an account” for retail discounts. But let me give one suggestion. I hear a great deal of frustration over the proliferation of tip jars in places where we didn’t use to tip. We see them at coffee shops, repair places and even farmers’ markets. These aren’t entirely anonymous because of their proximity to the cash register but a few additional dollars may make a difference. And a case may be made that these tip jars are really nothing more than a way for employers to underpay their employees.

But a few extra dollars (a pinch of salt) will certainly be noticed by the staff and hopefully it will make them feel more valued. It’s a small amount that can provide extra flavor.

And as a preservative it can make us safer in our way of life.