Salty Disciples

There are times when I wish Jesus had talked in plain English (or Greek or Aramaic or whatever) rather than parable and metaphor and hyperbole. Of course, he got in enough trouble as it was using the words he did! But what are we to do with cups of cold water and stumbling blocks and cutting off limbs and salty disciples?

I do know that the people who say that they read the Bible literally (as if that is not in itself a type of interpretation) like to focus on the unquenchable fire and undying worm of hell, to which they will gladly condemn other people. Other verses they conveniently overlook. The last time I noticed, no one had hands or feet cut off or eyes plucked out because they caused one to stumble. We are careful about what we take literally and what we call hyperbole.

But that doesn’t mean that what Jesus says can be ignored. He wants us to know that being a disciple is serious business. It is literally a matter of life and death. We can hem and haw in our post-Enlightenment, more enlightened way of thinking. We can say that it reflects Mark’s community, and a time of persecution, but life is different now and things aren’t that bad. Tell that to the Christians in Sudan, or anywhere else where being a believer can court death. I thank God that we do not live in a country where there is such persecution. Yet I believe that our faith is the weaker when it is not challenged. I’ve always thought that one of the reasons that Mormonism continues to grow is that every young male is expected to go door-to-door and witness to the faith. Persevering in spite of having doors slammed in your face must make one a stronger believer.

What about those salty disciples? These verses sent me to a commentary, for I’ve never been able to make head or tail out of the salt references. I’m still not sure I can, but here’s what I found. Salt was associated with the Jewish temple sacrifices, which were of course burned (thus being salted with fire). Jesus appears to be warning his followers that they will be sacrificed, a not unreasonable expectation at that time. And the salt of the day wasn’t pure salt, iodized and always pouring out of a round blue box. It was evaporated deposits from the Dead Sea and full of impurities like gypsum, so the saltiness of sodium chloride could be accidentally washed away. Now aren’t you a better person for knowing all that?

One of these weeks there’s going to be a Gospel passage for which I can say, aha, I know just what that means! And I’ll tell everyone reading this blog what it means, and then I’ll get a bunch of comments that begin, “Have you thought of this…I always thought it meant this…Where did you go to seminary, anyway?” Humbled, the week after that I’ll start with “There are times when I wish that Jesus had talked in plain English…”

Pentecost 17: Mark 9:38-50. The commentary I used was The Gospel of Mark by N.T. France (2002, Eerdmans), pp. 384-385. Once an academic, always an academic.