*Ye* are the salt of the earth; but if the salt have become insipid, wherewith shall it be salted? It is no longer fit for anything but to be cast out and to be trodden under foot by men.
The Lord has just described the character and the blessings of those who belong to His kingdom. Now He turns from what they are inside to what they are in the world around them. Calling them salt raises two questions. What does salt do? And what happens to people who carry the name without the reality?
Salt is not a sweetener. One writer describes what salt does — it guards, and it holds firm what is good:
Salt is what preserves in righteousness. It is sharp rather than sweet, but it guards from impurity and decay. It holds steady what is good and wholesome. It tests all things, and holds fast the right. It keeps away from every form of wickedness. So when the disciples are called the salt of the earth, the Lord marks them out as set apart to God the Father.
God gave an instruction about the offerings brought to Him. Salt was never to be missing:
In ancient times salt was the main way to season food and keep it from going bad. Salt is sharp and bitter, but it keeps what is good and prevents decay. In the Old Testament, the "salt of the covenant" had, by God's order, to be added to all sacrifices (Lev. 2:13). So salt is a clear symbol of the sanctifying, keeping power of God which should show in us. We are not sugar or honey, but the salt of the earth.
One writer draws a line between "the earth" here and "the world" in the next verse:
The salt of the earth is a different thing from the light of the world. As I see it, the earth means what already claimed to have received light from God. Because of that light it stood in a relationship with Him, and had taken a definite shape before Him. The disciples of Christ were the preservative principle in the earth. They were the light of the world, and the world did not have that light.
Kelly brings the same word into the present, to Christendom — the lands where the Christian faith has long been known. He points out where the danger lies, because the light was once there:
The salt of the earth is how the disciples stand toward what already had God's testimony... If you speak about the earth now, it is Christendom — the place that has the light of God's truth, either truly or only in name... And this is the place where the greatest falling away from God will come. Such evil is only possible where people have had the light and then left it.
Commentators differ on who exactly is in view. Some say the verse speaks of a faithful group inside Israel, not of Christians: "here it is not the Christian, not a believer of this present age, who is in view; it is the faithful few left in Israel" (The Bible Treasury). Others apply it to believers today.
The two pictures are not repeats of each other. Kelly sets them against the religious teachers of that day, the scribes and Pharisees:
For the disciples, this position goes beyond "the salt of the earth." That stood for righteousness — not the outward kind shown by the scribes and Pharisees, but lowly and real in God's sight. "The light of the world," on the other hand, is grace shining out, and it cannot be separated from confessing Christ. Salt preserves, but it does not make everything visible the way light does.
Where the salt fails, nothing else can supply what is missing:
But He adds words — most serious words — "if salt has lost its taste, how shall its saltiness be restored?"... By this question He showed that the true and holy taste, once lost, could never be repaired. Grace may still work in people here and there, but the pure position cannot be brought back. Salt is simply salt. Nothing outside can give the saltiness that disappears.
The verse does not settle every question people bring to it. Kelly warns against forcing an outside debate into these words:
He is not now speaking of the question whether a saint can fall away or not. People go to Scripture with their own questions, and twist the word of God to fit their earlier thoughts... He is speaking of people who hold a certain position. Some may hold it carelessly, or even falsely. Then everything they once had fades away.
Salt without taste ends in public contempt. That warning reaches beyond one person:
Salt is a picture of the influence going out from the testimony to the holiness of God. Anyone whose testimony does not have this power is useless. For this reason the nations will trample Jerusalem, the city that rejected its own King (Luke 21:24). Christendom has had the good news of grace and salvation in Christ for centuries. It too will fall away from God and come under His judgment.
- Salt preserves. It is sharp, not sweet — it guards from decay and holds fast what is right.
- Covenant salt. God required salt in every offering, marking His keeping, sanctifying power that should now show in His people.
- Earth, not world. Salt works where God's testimony is already known; light shines out where it is not.
- Taste lost. Nothing outside salt can give back the one quality that makes it salt.
- Trampled. Where the taste is gone, people throw out the empty claim of faith and trample it — the fate warned of for Jerusalem and Christendom alike.
*Ye* are the light of the world a city situated on the top of a mountain cannot be hid.
The Lord has just called His followers salt; now He tells them what they are to the wider world. The picture He uses is a hilltop city — no one can miss it. The commentators press two questions. Where does this light come from? And what happens when those who carry it try to stay out of sight?
The two images point in different directions. One writer separates them, and notes that the disciples never chose to be this light:
The salt of the earth is a different thing from the light of the world. The earth, I think, means the sphere that already claimed to have received light from God. That light put it in relationship with Him, and gave it a definite shape before Him. The disciples of Christ were the preservative principle in the earth. They were the light of the world, and the world had no light of its own. This was their position, whether they liked it or not. It was God's purpose that they should be the light of the world. No one lights a candle to hide it.
The change of figure marks a change of direction. Salt keeps something from going bad; light travels:
But now, in verse 14, we have not only the principle of righteousness, but of grace — grace flowing out in strength. Here He gives the disciples a new title for their public testimony — "the light of the world." Light spreads. The salt is what ought to be inward, but the light is what scatters itself abroad. "A city set on a hill cannot be hidden." Its testimony was to spread all around.
Jesus also called Himself the light of the world. So the same title on His disciples must mean something different. One writer explains the difference with the moon:
Our Lord says, "As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world" (John 9:5). But in view of His absence His saints are called by Him the "light of the world" (Matt. 5:14; Phil. 2:15). Saints are light in the Lord (Eph. 5:8). They are here to show the moral characteristics of Christ to people who are in darkness. And the whole source and power of their light rests in the Lord of heaven. The world cannot see Him, but He shows Himself to His own by faith and in the Spirit. The moon shines at night because it stands in the light of the sun. In the same way, saints shine while Christ is away, because they stand in the light of the risen Son of God.
Anyone living in Israel would have seen the picture at once:
"A city set on a hill cannot be hidden." An enemy planning an attack could see it. So could a traveller looking for a place to stay. By day its white walls and buildings shone bright. By night the lights of the houses gave it away. So the walk of the Lord's disciples ought to be a light in this world, seen by everyone.
Some have argued that the true company of believers is invisible. One writer answers that:
But I read in Scripture, "You are the light of the world." What use is an invisible light? "A city set on a hill cannot be hidden." To call the true church invisible settles the question at once. It admits that the church has lost its original and essential standing. It admits that the church has left God's purpose and the order He gave it. God did not light a candle to put it under a basket. He lit it to set it on a lampstand and give light to everyone in the house. If it has become invisible, it no longer serves the purpose God formed it for.
Commentators differ over whom the Lord is addressing here. Some hold that these words describe a faithful Jewish remnant who will bear witness after the church is taken away, saying that "as Matthew 5:13-14 shows, these godly Jews will be the salt of 'the earth' and the 'light of the world'" (H J Vine). Others press the passage directly on believers today:
Fellow believer, I urge you not to skim over or dodge the position the Lord gives you here on earth. These are His words: … "You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven." Let us live this out, instead of letting it slip past or pushing it off onto a Jewish remnant.
The lamp under the basket warns that something of our own can cover the light:
No one should put a lamp under a basket — that is, hide it behind what stands for man's own work. Let us not allow our work to get in the way of the light of Christ, who is the only source of light for people in darkness. The lamp set in its proper place will give light to all who are near it.
- Given, not earned — being the light is a position the Lord assigns, held "whether they liked it or not," not a status anyone works up to.
- Borrowed, not owned — the light is Christ's; His people shine as the moon shines, only because they stand in the light of the risen Son of God.
- Outward, not inward — unlike salt, which preserves quietly, light "scatters itself abroad" to a world that has none of its own.
- Visible, not hidden — enemy and traveller alike see a hilltop city. A light no one can see has stopped doing the job it was lit for.
- Clear, not covered — our own work in front of the lamp is what dims it. Keep the stand clear so people see Christ.
Nor do [men] light a lamp and put it under the bushel, but upon the lamp-stand, and it shines for all who are in the house.
This verse draws its picture from an ordinary home: a lamp, a measuring basket, a stand. Jesus is not teaching lamp-care. He is telling His followers what their light is for, and warning that people can cover it.
Small oil lamps gave a weak flame, so where you put one mattered.
The small oil-lamps of ancient times gave only poor light. Thousands of them have been found in the rubble at excavation sites. That is why people put them, singly or in groups, on a lamp-stand. The stand either hung from the ceiling, was fixed to the wall, or stood on the floor. In this way the light spread as widely as possible.
Covering the lamp does two things at once.
How absurd it would have been to put such a light under a bushel, that is, to hide it! A bushel was a container of about 2 gallons, used to measure grain. If you put it over a lamp, it would hide the small flame and make it useless. In the long run it would also smother the flame.
One writer turns this everyday common sense against Christendom — the whole world of people who bear Christ's name.
People deal more honestly with their own lamps than Christendom deals with the light our Lord spoke about. People shrink from natural darkness, from its inconveniences and its dangers. When they light a lamp, they do not put it under the grain measure, which would of course hide it completely. They put it on the lampstand, and it shines to all who are in the house. But Christendom fears the light. That light exposes how it neglects Scripture, and the Holy Spirit's guidance, and Christ, who is and ought to be everything. … Our Lord means the light to shine to all who are in the house, and beyond too.
In practice, what plays the part of the basket?
A bushel is connected with the business of this world, and how many a light the business of this world hides!
Another writer makes it personal.
Think of tidying up the garden, testing the new motor-cycle, studying for exams, early and late hours at work, a game of tennis, minding the baby, and many other occupations. They are good and proper in themselves. Ask whether you are using them, perhaps without meaning to, to cover up your lamp. There is no transparency in a bushel-basket. And where there might have been a bright light, the corn-measure has brought about darkness.
The light is not private property. It shows in a life, and it is spoken with the lips.
What testimony to Christ can there be, if the life gives no evidence? And what evidence is there in a life whose lips are silent about Christ? … Let us remember, then, the responsibility we have of confessing Him boldly. It is not even right to hide from people in need what He has done for them. No: the lamp is not for the bushel — it is for the lampstand. It is not for ourselves that we are made light: the world has a right to it, and can produce that right under the broad seal of Christ's commission.
A lamp does not make its own fire.
While the Lord was here He was the Light of the world, as He Himself says (John 9:5). Now we are called, as Christians, to shine as heavenly lights that hold out the word of life. Our light is reflected light. Ephesians 5 tells us where our light comes from: "at one time you were darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Walk as children of light." … If Christ does not shine upon us, we can give no light.
The same test applies to the whole company of believers, not just to one person.
Believers have tried to shelter behind the distinction between a visible church and an invisible one. But I read in Scripture, "You are the light of the world." What use is an invisible light? "A city set on a hill cannot be hidden." … God did not light a candle to put it under a bushel. He lit it to put it on a lampstand, to give light to those in the house. If it has become invisible, it has stopped answering the purpose for which it was formed.
- Lit. God lights the lamp. The flame is borrowed, not our own: if Christ does not shine on us, we have no light to give.
- Placed. A lamp goes high on a stand because its flame is small. Position, not brightness, is what makes it useful.
- Covered. The basket is the everyday business of life. Good and lawful things, misused, hide the flame and in time smother it.
- Owed. The light is not for ourselves. Those in the house have a right to it, so hiding what Christ has done is a failure toward people in need.
- Seen. A light no one can see has stopped doing the one thing it exists to do — true of a single believer and of the whole company.
Let your light thus shine before men, so that they may see your upright works, and glorify your Father who is in the heavens.
The Lord has just called His disciples salt and light, and now He tells them what to do with it. He does not tell them to display good deeds, but to let the light shine — and the aim is the Father's glory, not their own reputation.
The verse names light first, and works only after that. That order separates a Christian testimony from ordinary good causes.
Here, the good works are the fruit of the working of divine light in the soul. If we let our light shine, good works will also be connected with it. But they are not the focus of our attention here. In this world many people and groups do good works. For example, the Red Cross and other aid organisations have done much good for people in need. If we as children of God set out to do such good works, that alone does not make us a testimony to our Lord. He wants us to be a testimony to Him. Therefore He does not urge us here to do good works, but to let our light shine. We should not think of "our" works, but of Him. Good works will then be the result.
If disciples must shine, where does the light come from? It does not start in them.
But what light is it that is to shine? It can only be the reflection of Him who is the Light. "He does not say let your good works shine, but let your light shine. That is, let Christ shine in your life. The point is not that you should see your good works, but that others should see them — and not to your glory, but to the glory of your Father."
One writer looks at the word translated "good" and finds it means something other than kindness to the poor.
Notice too that the light must shine in practical things, not only in teaching. People do not see it in our clear or fresh teaching put into words. They see it in our acts and works. They should hear our good words, but they must see our good works, if we are to be light to them. The word for "good" here does not mean kind or generous; it means upright or honest. Such actions find their source in the Father in heaven: they shed His light and glorify Him.
A person can give away everything and still miss the aim of this verse. The verse ends with the Father getting the glory.
I might give away all my goods in what people call charity. I might even hand over my body to the fire. Yet I could do both without confessing Christ, and so without glorifying the Father at all. There is no light and no love without faith in Christ and the confession of Christ. That way a person honours self, not the Father. But let the light of Christ shine in your confession. Then people see right works that agree with the will of God. They glorify not you, but the Father, who is both the source and the aim of what you do.
The shining is not a special activity added to daily work. It is daily work done by someone whose identity is unmistakable.
Then you must have your lights burning. I do whatever God tells me to do, and it is a testimony to Christ; people say, that is what comes from a man being a Christian! It is that there may be no uncertainty as to what we are... I may be a carpenter or a shoemaker, but I must be a Christian. In every relationship — as servant or master, in eating or drinking, in our houses, wherever it is — I must be a Christian.
A reader may wonder whether Matthew 6 cancels this command. One writer answers that the two passages aim at opposite results.
What Matthew 6 says here is not contradicted by the earlier words of the Lord Jesus in Matthew 5:16. There He was speaking to His disciples who ought to be the salt of the earth and the light of the world. If people saw their good works, they would give the glory to God, not to men. In our paragraph in Matthew 6 the result is just the reverse.
The verse names the Father. Being His child brings a job that goes with the family name.
Now, before God can sanctify His name through Israel's restoration (Ezekiel 36:20, 23), the Lord taught His disciples about the opportunity and the service given to them. By their good works they were to lead the people around them to glorify their Father who is in the heavens. As His people, Israel ought to have shown the nations what it was that was well-pleasing to God. As His children, the disciples should show the moral character of their Father.
- Light first. The instruction is not to produce good works but to let the light shine; good works follow as its fruit.
- Borrowed light. The light is a reflection of Christ, so shining means letting Him show in your life — not your glory, but your Father's.
- Upright. The word for "good" here means honest and upright. People see it in acts, not just hear it in teaching.
- Everywhere. Carpenter or shoemaker, at home, at work, eating or drinking — in every place you belong plainly to Christ.
- The verdict. When the light shines, onlookers do not say "what a good person" — they glorify the Father in heaven.