Jesus' rich imagery and symbolism
“Preach the Gospel, and if necessary, use words”
By Steve Hall
The well-known phrase “Preach the Gospel, and if necessary, use words” is usually attributed to St. Francis. The statement is, I fear, as misunderstood as the statement “you are the light of the world.” The first of these dictums is typically understood to mean that we should let our Christian moral lifestyle, lived out in our daily lives, serve as evidence of our faith. The second is frequently seen in the same manner as a directive to share the Gospel message. While both these endeavors are worthwhile, the teaching calls us to something more, something we may think to be impossibly difficult.
Tuesday of the Tenth Week in Ordinary Time
2 Corinthians 1:18-22
Matthew 5:13-16
I walk into a room and flip a switch. There is light!
But there was a time when the night was lit only by fire.
We sit at the table for supper. Please pass the salt.
But there was a time when my wages may just as well come as salt or gold.
The imagery and symbolism bound up with these two ‘ordinary’ things are not unknown to us. I suspect, however, that the depth and richness of that imagery and symbolism have become minimized as our control over both has grown.
I sat outside this evening just at sunset. The sky was unexpectedly vibrant — unexpected because the hues emanating from the clouds were shades of pastel, which are not normally so vivid. The trees and grass were an intense green. Flowers still radiated their full range of colors. But … Only for a brief period. As the evening light dissipated, so too did color and form. Within minutes, black, accompanied by various shades of grey, governed the horizon. The shape of trees merged into a singular mass. The Peak evolved into a two-dimensional silhouette. The flowers lost even the hint of color as they joined the bland common grey, which now ruled it all.
The well-known phrase “Preach the Gospel, and if necessary, use words” is usually attributed to St. Francis. The statement is, I fear, as misunderstood as the statement “You are the light of the world.”
The first of these dictums is typically understood to mean that we should let our Christian moral lifestyle, lived out in our daily lives, serve as evidence of our faith. The second is frequently seen in the same manner as a directive to share the Gospel message. While both these endeavors are worthwhile, the teaching calls us to something more, something we may think to be impossibly difficult.
The challenge set before us is to make the glory of God manifest to all. Not just the glory of God’s magnificence, but the glory of His protection, His provision for his creatures, His unity, and His wholeness. The challenge is to make present throughout creation the very essence of God, for God is love.
This is not something we do on our own. It is not within our power. It happens only when and if we allow the Spirit of God to fill us. Just as the glory of color and form depend on the presence of light, so too the glory of what “No eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man conceived” (1 Corinthians 2:9) can and will be revealed only in the presence of the one who is the light of the world. This demands that we allow the living Spirit of God to live within.
It is similar with salt.
Salt discovers and exposes the flavors within. Many foods are bland, even boring, until salt ‘miraculously’ exposes what was hidden, a richness of flavor previously concealed. The glory of God is hidden in all creation. How could it be otherwise? We are called to be the salt that reveals it. And how else can it be drawn forth except by the mystery of a love so great that we struggle to understand. The flavors embedded in creation were and are always there, but only salt could make them known.
Somewhere I recently read that “Research shows we're in the midst of a loneliness epidemic, and many people have turned to doomscrolling and artificial intelligence for a dose of the connection they seek.” Life is mostly shades of grey, and nothing can satisfy without the light. Life is mostly bland and tasteless, leading to boredom and even despair without a sprinkling of salt.