Seasoned to Shine

Matthew 5:13-16, Ephesians 4:1-16

In our first scripture lesson, when Jesus calls his followers the salt of the earth, we might hear it as faint praise. Today, when we describe someone as “salt of the earth,” we usually mean they are good, honest, dependable, down to earth people. It is a compliment, but not exactly a flashy one. Salt feels plain, ordinary, easy to overlook. But in the ancient world, salt was anything but ordinary.

Salt was valuable, so valuable that Roman soldiers were sometimes paid with it. In fact, the word salary comes from the Latin word sal, meaning salt. If a soldier was not doing their job well, their pay might be reduced, giving rise to the phrase “not worth their salt.” Salt was also used in religious rituals for purification, blessing, and protection. And unlike most things, salt never goes bad. So when Jesus looks at a gathered crowd of ordinary people and says, “You are the salt of the earth,” he is not calling them bland or forgettable. He is calling them precious, essential, enduring. He is saying that what God has placed in them matters, for the sake of the world.

That same movement, from identity to calling, is echoed in our reading from Ephesians. Paul begins not with instructions about programs or structure, but with a plea: “I beg you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called.” Notice where Paul starts. He does not say, earn your calling. He does not say, prove your worth. He says, you already have a calling. Now live into it. And that calling, Paul says, is never a solo act. We are called to work collectively, to act as one body in Christ. There is one body and one Spirit, one hope, one faith, one baptism. Unity, yes, but not uniformity.

Paul goes on to name the different ways that calling takes shape in the life of the church: apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors, and teachers. These are not job titles reserved for a few professionals. They are functions, ways the Spirit equips ordinary people to build up the body of Christ.

Apostles are pioneers and connectors. They are energized by starting things, building bridges, and imagining what the church could be beyond its walls. They see possibilities others miss and help turn vision into action. They connect the church to the wider world and help others step into their callings.

Prophets are truth tellers and discerners. They ask hard questions. They name what others sense but hesitate to say. Prophets help the church listen for God’s voice, especially when it is uncomfortable. They call us back to our values, name injustice, and help us notice where God may be nudging us next.

Evangelists are story sharers and welcomers. They love connecting with people and sharing why faith matters to them. Evangelists translate the good news into everyday language. They practice hospitality, build relationships, invite others in, and help people feel seen and included.

Pastors are shepherds and caregivers. They show up. They listen. They pray. They walk with people through grief, joy, illness, and uncertainty. Pastors help people feel known, supported, and cared for within the community.

Teachers are guides and interpreters. They love helping others make sense of faith. They ask “why” and “how.” Teachers invite curiosity, reflection, and growth, helping people see how scripture and belief shape daily life. Paul’s point is not that everyone must do all of these things. Paul’s point is that the church needs all of them.

All of these gifts are given “to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ.” Saints. That is all of us. In our Bible studies this week and at the officer training yesterday, we spent time discerning which of these roles we felt most drawn to, most equipped for, or most comfortable as. I will be honest, it was not easy. It required reflection, honesty, and a willingness to name gifts without minimizing them or comparing them to others. But it is empowering, because we cannot walk in a manner worthy of our calling if we never stop to ask what that calling might look like in our own lives.

So I want to invite you to try that same practice now. In a moment, I am going to invite you to turn to someone nearby, preferably someone you do not know well, and introduce yourself. Share your name and one way you believe you help bring flavor or light to the life of this church. One way you serve, as an apostle who connects and builds, as a prophet who sees and speaks truth, as an evangelist who invites and welcomes, as a pastor who cares and shepherds, or as a teacher who guides and interprets. This is not about bragging. It is about bearing witness to grace. So take a moment, turn to a neighbor, introduce yourself, and claim the gifts that you have been given.

Friends, what you just did was not small talk. You practiced naming grace and gratitude for the gifts you have been given. Gifts are meant to be shared for the building up of the body, to do Christ’s work here in our congregation, in our community here in Wichita, with our sister congregation in Placetas, Cuba, and throughout the world. You reminded one another that the church shines not because everyone is the same, but because everyone brings what God has already given, walking in a manner worthy of our calling.
And that brings us back to Jesus’ sermon on the mount, when he told that group of ordinary people something extraordinary: “You are the light of the world.” Not you should be. Not someday you might be. You are the light of the world. Light is meant to be seen. Gifts are meant to be shared. Faith is meant to be lived out loud. So do not hide your light. Do not tuck your gifts away. Do not underestimate what God can do through the gifts the Spirit has already placed within you. You are seasoned to shine, for the building up of the body and for the blessing of the world. May it be so in your life, in the life of your family, in the life of our congregation, and in the life of Christ’s church. Amen.