The Salt of the Earth

Sunday Service, 9 August 2026

Led by Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall and Dr. Patricia Brewerton

https://youtu.be/hyXxC6X7FY0?si=MxvCcK6Q-wv6K2GJ

Musical Prelude: Chanson de Matin - Elgar (performed by Sophia Kannathasan and Andrew Robinson)

Opening Words: ‘This Faith’ by Heide Cottam (adapted) 

Let us be a faith that gathers, reaching out for one another

through the walls of hatred and suspicion others build,

through the cages of ignorance and arrogance,

and through the fear that stalks our streets.

Let us be a faith that sees a vision of a better world:

More compassionate, more just, more holy,

and guided by a liberating Love.

There is a faith that binds up the broken,

tends battle wounds with the balm of peace,

sings longer and louder than those who would divide us –

let us be that faith, too. A faith of solidarity.

Let us be the ones who do not turn away,

but light up this world with truth and love,

who hold up the mirror of worth and dignity,

who are the sanctuary others seek.

But first: Let us be a faith that worships together.

Here. This morning. In this sacred space.

At this moment. Let us be a faith. (pause)

Words of Welcome and Introduction: 

These words from Heide Cottam welcome all who have gathered this morning for our Sunday service. Welcome to those who have gathered in-person at Essex Church, to all who are joining via Zoom, and anyone tuning in at a later date via YouTube or the podcast stream.  For anyone who doesn’t know me, I’m Jane Blackall, and I’m minister with Kensington Unitarians.  

This morning’s service is titled ‘The Salt of the Earth’ – a phrase which, in common parlance, is typically used to describe people that are thoroughly decent, solid, reliable – but it’s a phrase that actually has Biblical origins – and if we look at it in that context we will uncover a different way of understanding the phrase (and what it might mean for us to be called to be ‘the salt of the earth’. Our very own Patricia Brewerton suggested that we explore this theme and she’ll be offering her personal reflections on the meaning of the phrase for us as Unitarians later in the service.

Chalice Lighting: ‘To Bear Love into This World’ by Rachael Hayes (adapted)

Let’s light our chalice flame now, as we do each week. It’s a moment for us to stop and take a breath, settle ourselves down, put aside any preoccupations we came in carrying. This simple ritual connects us in solidarity with Unitarians and Unitarian Universalists the world over, and reminds us of the proud and historic progressive religious tradition of which this gathering is part.

(light chalice) 

We light our chalice this morning

with our hearts and minds turned to

the shared purpose of our congregation.

We have inherited this beloved institution

from generations of people who went before us,

people who believed in the power of

human beings to bear love into the world.

We carry this tradition for those who

find comfort, inspiration, and joy

within its real and virtual spaces.

We tend the spark of imagination

and hope for the world to come.

Hymn 43 (purple): ‘Gather the Spirit’

Let us sing together now. Our first hymn is number 43 in your purple book: ‘Gather the Spirit’. Feel free to stand or sit as you prefer.

Gather the spirit, harvest the power.

Our separate fires will kindle one flame.

Witness the mystery of this hour.

Our trials in this light appear all the same.

Gather in peace, gather in thanks.

Gather in sympathy now and then.

Gather in hope, compassion and strength.

Gather to celebrate once again.

Gather the spirit of heart and mind.

Seeds for the sowing are laid in store.

Nurtured in love and conscience refined,

with body and spirit united once more. 

Gather in peace, gather in thanks.

Gather in sympathy now and then.

Gather in hope, compassion and strength.

Gather to celebrate once again.

Gather the spirit growing in all,

drawn by the moon and fed by the sun.

Winter to spring, and summer to fall,

the chorus of life resounding as one.

Gather in peace, gather in thanks.

Gather in sympathy now and then.

Gather in hope, compassion and strength.

Gather to celebrate once again.

Candles of Joy and Concern: 

Each week when we gather together, we share a simple ritual of candles of joy and concern, an opportunity to light a candle and share something that is in our heart with the community. So we’ve an opportunity now, for anyone who would like to do so, to light a candle and say a few words about what it represents. We’ll go to the people in the building first, then to Zoom.

So I invite some of you here in person to come and light a candle and then if you wish to tell us who or what you light your candle for – please keep it brief – be considerate of others. I’m going to ask you to come to the lectern to speak, as we want people to be able to hear you. 

(in person candles)

And if that’s everyone in the room we’ll go over to the people on Zoom next – you might like to switch to gallery view at this stage – just unmute yourselves when you are ready and speak out – and we should be able to hear you and see you up on the big screen here in the church.

(zoom candles)

And I’m going to light one more candle, as we often do, to represent all those joys and concerns that we hold in our hearts this day, but which we don’t feel able to speak out loud. (light candle)

Time of Prayer & Reflection: based on words by Elizabeth Bukey

Let’s take those joys and concerns into an extended time of prayer. The prayer is based on words by Elizabeth Bukey. You might want to adjust your position, close your eyes, or soften your gaze. There might be a posture that helps you feel more prayerful. Whatever helps you get into the right state of body and mind for us to pray together – be fully present – with ourselves, with each other, and with that which is both within us and beyond us. (pause)

Spirit of Life, God of All Love, in whom we live and move and have our being,

   we turn our full attention to you, the light within and without,

      as we tune in to the depths of this life, and the greater wisdom

         to which – and through which – we are all intimately connected.

      Be with us now as we allow ourselves to drop into the

         silence and stillness at the very centre of our being. (pause)

We gather in reverence and thanks for You,

Ground of our Being, Source of all Good.

We are grateful for the gift of another breath,

and for each moment of connection, beauty, and truth.

Cry with us in our pain for our world.

Remind us that we are loved, just as we are.

Remind us that we are connected with all that is.

Remind us that we do not journey alone.

Give us what we need for today.

Call us back to our promises, commitments, and values.

Help us love ourselves and each other,

And to show that love in our actions.

Make us instruments of justice, equity, and compassion.

Free us from all that is evil; keep us from wrong.

We declare that life and love are stronger than tyranny and fear,

That a world of beauty and love is coming,

And we must shape it together. (pause)

And let us take a few moments now to look inward, get in touch with what’s real,

what is going on beneath the surface of our lives this morning.

Let us notice what we’re carrying. What troubles us. What is bubbling up.

What questions or uncertainties we are faced with. What hopes and dreams we nurture.

And from that place of realness – silently, inwardly, ask for

what you most need – ask God, or cast it out into the Universe –

even if you’re the only one to hear your prayer – name what you need this day. (pause)

And let give thanks for what we already have. Look back on the week

and recall all those moments of kindness, comfort, pleasure, even joy.

Silently, inwardly, take the time to savour those gifts, and take in the good. (pause)

And let us turn outwards now, shifting our attention to the world around us,

starting with those dear ones closest to our heart, stretching ever outward,

and spreading all around this planet, holding all beings in the light of love. (pause) 

Spirit of Life – God of all Love – as this time of prayer comes to a close, we offer up

   our joys and concerns, our hopes and fears, our beauty and brokenness,

      and we call on you for insight, healing, and renewal.

As we look forward now to the coming week,

     help us to live well each day and be our best selves;

     using our unique gifts in the service of love, justice and peace. Amen.

Reading: The Beatitudes - Matthew 5:1-14, Revised Standard Version (read by Juliet)

Seeing the crowds, he went up on the mountain, and when he sat down his disciples came to him. And he opened his mouth and taught them, saying:

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.

“Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.

“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.

“Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.

“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.

“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God.

“Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

“Blessed are you when men revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for so men persecuted the prophets who were before you.

“You are the salt of the earth; but if salt has lost its taste, how shall its saltness be restored? It is no longer good for anything except to be thrown out and trodden under foot by men. You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hid. Nor do men light a lamp and put it under a bushel, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house. Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.”

Hymn 152 (purple): ‘Thanks Be For These’

Thanks Juliet. Let’s sing again – our second hymn is number 152 in your purple book – ‘Thanks Be For These’. I don’t think we sing this very often so let’s hear it through before we sing.

Thanks be for these, life's holy times,

moments of grief, days of delight;

triumph and failure intertwine,

shaping our vision of the right.

Thanks be for these, for birth and death,

life in between with meaning full;

holy becomes the quickened breath;

we celebrate life's interval.

Thanks be for these, ennobling art,

images welcome to our sight,

music caressing ear and heart,

inviting us to loftier height.

Thanks be for these, who question why,

who noble motives do obey,

those who know how to live and die,

comrades who share this holy way.

Thanks be for these, we celebrate,

sing and rejoice, our trust declare;

press all our faith into our fate;

bless now the destiny we share.

Reading: ‘Being Salt and Light’ by Brian McLaren (read by Brian)

When I was a teenager, the idea of religion making you different was not a new idea to me. Unfortunately, in my experience, religion made you different in an odd, outdated, and maybe even harsh and judgmental way. To be a Christian was to hold yourself above and apart from secular people and people of other faiths….

But one of my spiritual mentors, Rod, said something very different: Most of your fellow students are trying their hardest to be cool, but you can choose a different goal. You can make it your ambition to be warm—a warm and loving presence in the world as Jesus was. 

Rod believed that our calling was to be joyfully in the world in deep solidarity with our neighbours, loving them as equals rather than considering ourselves holier than thou and therefore better than them. Rather than judging them or evaluating them for where they fit on our scales or standards, Rod recommended that we compassionately understand every person we encounter, approaching everyone, no exceptions, with empathy.

Of course, Rod was just echoing what Jesus said in the most intense, concentrated example of his public teaching we call the Sermon on the Mount (see Matthew 5:1–12). The sermon begins with a set of sayings that begin with “Blessed are …”. Most people interpret these statements as a way of saying, God blesses these people to the exclusion of others. 

I’ve come to understand the Beatitudes as a way of saying something very different. The Beatitudes say, We, in this new movement, bless the very people who are usually excluded. Jesus says, In this movement, we bless the poor and the poor in spirit. We bless those who mourn, we bless the meek or gentle, we bless those who hunger and thirst for justice. We bless the merciful and the pure in heart. We bless the peacemakers and those who are persecuted for standing up for justice. And then Jesus continues: We see the world differently because we bless people who are usually forgotten, despised, or excluded. That different way of seeing the world leads to a different way of being in the world.

Words for Meditation: ‘One Sixtieth’ by Margaret Feinberg (adapted)

We’re moving into a time of meditation now. To take us into stillness, I’m going to share a short reflection on what it means to be ‘the salt of the earth’ from Margaret Feinberg, which ends with an invitation for your own reflection. We’ll take that into a few minutes of shared silence, which will end with the sound of a bell. Then we’ll hear music for meditation. So let’s do what we need to do to get comfortable – adjust your position – put your feet flat on the floor to ground yourself – close your eyes. As ever, these words are just an offering, feel free to use this time to meditate in your own way.

As the salt of the earth, we are agents of human flourishing.

We are the salt poured on that which is foul, in order to foster fresh, new life.

Don’t forget the kind of salt the disciples used was harvested with its

surrounding minerals. Those trace elements gave the salt its uniqueness.

It’s your particular ‘minerals’ that bring salvation to a dysfunctional and dying world.

It’s hard to know where to begin some days. I become overwhelmed by the

sheer quantity of needs that flood my inbox and mailbox and social media feeds.

I once stumbled on wisdom tucked into some ancient Jewish writings, the Talmud.

There it says that if someone is suffering and in need, and you can take away

1/60 of their pain, then that is goodness, and the call to help is from God.

This is a powerful expression of our being the salt—

the preservers, the flavourers, the fertilizers—of the earth.

The fraction—1/60—is loaded with freedom. This liberates us

from the pressured thinking that whispers, Everything depends on you.

Your one little grain of salt can help with something someone else’s grain can’t.

And when all the grains get mixed and sprinkled together, preserving

and flavouring and helping others flourish occurs everywhere.

None of us are meant to preserve the whole earth,

flavour the whole world, flourish the entire planet on our own.

Yet you can begin today by simply asking God to bring to mind

someone for whom you can ease 1/60 of their pain. (pause)

Words from Margaret Feinberg. So as we enter into a time of shared silence,

I invite you to meditate on where you can sprinkle ‘your one little grain of salt’ today.

Period of Silence and Stillness (~3 minutes) – end with a bell  

Interlude: Adoration - Florence Price (performed by Sophia Kannathasan and Andrew Robinson)

Reflection: ‘The Salt of the Earth’ by Patricia Brewerton

Some of you may remember the Wayside Pulpit posters that Evangelical Churches often displayed in order to attract passers-by to their church. These were usually quite cheesy – example – the letters CH followed by two dashes and then the letters CH again.  What’s missing? U R.  Then one day there was one that really made me smile.  YOU ARE CALLED TO BE THE SALT OF THE EARTH NOT THE VINEGAR.  I am sure we all know instinctively that we would rather be the salt than the vinegar.  We wouldn’t want to be thought of as sour, miserable, judgemental people – which vinegar seems to suggest.

Remembering this poster set me puzzling on what it actually means to be the SALT OF THE EARTH.  Is this something we as individuals or as a church should aim to be?  The words come towards the end of the Sermon on the Mount in which Jesus has set out which people would merit a blessing.  He then affirms his disciples as being THE SALT OF THE EARTH.  In ancient times salt was so precious that Roman soldiers, it is said, were paid in salt and the salt trade was as important then as the oil trade is now and its path crossed those regions in the Middle East where today so many people are suffering daily violence, hunger and pain. 

Like most of you, I expect, I had never paid much attention to salt.  I sometimes saw it spread on winter roads to prevent ice from forming. It would appear on dinner tables, where it was usually ignored because we had been warned against using too much.  For years I followed this advice, I never salted the water in which I cooked vegetables for instance, then after a hip replacement operation I became very unwell because I didn’t have enough salt in my body. I spent over thirty-six hours in a state of utter confusion, unable to remember my date of birth or my postcode and obsessed with asking the name of the fruit with the thick yellow skin.  It didn’t matter how often I was told it was a banana within minutes I had forgotten again.   It came as a surprise to me that salt plays such an important role in our metabolism.  It even has a role in the contractions of the heart muscle. Fortunately, after being made to eat multiple packets of Walkers ready salted crisps and after a couple of intravenous saline infusions I began to make sense of the world around me again. So, whilst too much salt is definitely bad for you it appears that not enough can be just as bad.

In the part of the Île de Re where we spend a lot of our time in the summer there are a lot of salt marshes.   There is something magical about the way the salt forms as the Saunier patiently manages the flow of water around his carefully tended salt marsh and then rakes the salt into little piles of white crystals which glow under the blue summer skies.  Salt production plays a significant role in the economy of the island, and it only needs the warmth of the sun to produce the salt as the water evaporates. A gift of nature.

But salt also forms underground and we have all heard of people being sent to the salt mines in Siberia as a punishment.  Recently I read an article about a hospital in Armenia which was in an actual salt mine. Patients with respiratory problems spent time there because the salty air had such a beneficial effect on their breathing.  So, a place that can be used to punish can also be used to heal. 

Salt still plays an important role is our economy. Only 10% of it is used for human consumption the other 90% being used in the production of such things as nylon, bleach, glass and pharmaceuticals.

Like many sayings in the Bible the words have slipped into our everyday vocabulary. In a series of interviews undertaken in Clacton, where the people are soon going to have to choose between 34 candidates in a by-election caused by the resignation of their previous MP, an interviewee was described as a SALT-OF-THE-EARTH Reform voter.  Not being sure what was intended by this I asked Google what SALT OF THE EARTH meant, and the AI overview said it meant “A person who is fundamentally honest reliable and kind”.  I think the interviewer was implying that this voter was an ordinary, decent fellow who had decided that he was prepared to give Nigel Farage another chance.

Theologians also struggle with understanding what Jesus meant by SALT OF THE EARTH because in biblical times salting the earth was something people did after destroying their enemies. Too much salt on the soil causes severe dehydration, destroys the soil structure and prevents plants growing. A punishment which was intended to have the effect of starving the population. In his list of things that salt was used for theologian Andrew Wilson includes that it could also be used to fertilize the soil.  Perhaps soil is very much like human beings.  There’s a lot of it and it is very complex. We are many and we are also complex individuals.  We are all capable of being good and bad, useful and harmful.  We can preserve life or destroy life. 

 I recently read an article in The Guardian describing the growth in what we might call “designer salts”. Pink Himalayan salt, black salt, smoked sea salt and Kalahari Desert salt.  After introducing the reader to these various salts, the writer ends “In times of economic uncertainty a pinch of something special feels like an achievable everyday indulgence”.  Is that what we should aim for – being a pinch of something special?

Unitarians frequently ask “how can we reach people who might need what we have to offer?”.  A notice board is one way of doing this. The poster on our notice board reads “What shapes our lives are the questions we ask, refuse to ask or never think to ask.” These words by the American philosopher Sam Keen announce to the world that this is a church that asks question rather than one that supplies answers.

A church that asks questions may not appeal to people who want the reassurance that all will be well and all manner of things will be well.  I can understand how, given the state of our world at present, there may be many people who are looking for that reassurance, and questions that shape lives may not lead there.  Asking questions can sometimes unsettle us, disturb our equilibrium.  Yes, we should offer to comfort and support people in times of stress but shouldn’t, we as a church, be more than that.  I know that we all need times of calm in our lives.  But being calm all the time would stop us from doing things.  Fiona Bailey, founder of the Each Child a Light project to create a quilt in memory of the children killed in Gaza, shared some words with me that she had found on-line. “It is not calm that gets us out of bed to finish the work, protect the child or read the poem.  We are alive because we are in motion.  We move because something moves us.” Perhaps we can be that pinch of something special that moves someone to join in the struggle for peace and justice.

Being part of a questioning community, a place that promotes critical thinking rather than placid acceptance of mainstream narratives, can encourage us to deepen our understanding of world events.  There are many things that should concern us right now – climate change being one of the most important.  We probably all have a justice issue that speaks to us and, as you know, the plight of the Palestinian people weighs heavy on my heart.  I started asking questions about Palestine in 2008 when I read about a war on Gaza which killed 1400 Palestinians.  I wondered why our politicians did not condemn this violence. Then in 2014, the year of another war which killed over 2000 Palestinians, I read a book called FAITH IN THE FACE OF EMPIRE by the Palestinian Lutheran Pastor Mitri Raheb.  I have just been re-reading parts of it and find that my notes at the time indicate that I knew very little about Palestine.  For one thing I did not know that Palestinian Christians lived with the same restrictions, harassment, humiliations and violence as their Muslim neighbours.  That’s when I started asking questions.  I have now read over twenty books by Jewish, Christian and Muslim writers, Israeli and Palestinian, historians, political analysts, novelists and poets. The questions I asked have certainly shaped how I see the world but have also brought me to an uncomfortable place. They have made me a passionate advocate for the rights of the Palestinian people to live in dignity and freedom in the land of their forebears, and this is not a comfortable place.  Questions have the power to disrupt how we think and how we live.  Those of us who watched the climate change film a few weeks ago would probably agree that the questions that raised did not leave us in a comfortable place.

The verse in Matthew ends with Jesus asking, “if the salt has lost its savour wherewith will it be salted?” With Israel still bombing Gaza and the raids on Palestinian villages in the West Bank becoming more frequent, my advocacy seems futile and my salt is often in danger of losing its saltiness.  But being here in fellowship with others who have a longing for peace and justice, whether that is for the hungry and homeless, for our planet or for Palestine is the way my salt regains its saltiness.  Perhaps it is the same for you. I do hope so.

Hymn (on sheet): ‘Salt and Light’

Time for one last hymn now, it’s on your hymn sheet, and it’s called ‘Salt and Light’. It is a tune we’ve sung recently but to be on the safe side I’ll ask Andrew to play it through before we sing.

When all the stars burn out,

or all the seas run dry,

God's love and law will still remain,

they soar beyond the sky.

When justice is denied,

or people are constrained,

God's righteousness cannot be found,

or hopeful joy retained. 

Bring savour to the world:

this saltiness we share

is evidence of godliness

that we are meant to bear.

For us to be of use,

like standards that will shine

we need God's power to offer grace

through symbol, act and sign.

Saltshakers giving taste,

light bearers through the night,

world changers in the name of Love

we bring God's reign in sight.

Announcements:

Thanks to Patricia for offering our reflection today. Thanks to Azita and Ramona for hosting and Lochlann for co-hosting. If you’re online stay for a chat with Lochlann if you can. Thanks to Sophia and Andrew for lovely music today and to Benjie for supporting our singing. Thanks to Juliet and Brian for reading. Thanks to Patricia for greeting and David for making coffee (two weeks in a row!). If you’re in-person please do stay for tea and cake (apple and sultana or greengage, hazelnut and chocolate).

Tonight and Friday at 7pm we’ve got our online ‘Heart and Soul’ online contemplative spiritual gathering – this week it’s on the theme of ‘Foibles’ – sign up with me if you want to get the link.

This month’s Better World Book Club will be about ‘Upstream’ by Dan Heath, which we’ll be talking about on Sunday 30th August, and I have a few copies of that to loan out.

Next Sunday, me and Roy will be co-leading a service, titled ‘Sacred Seeing’. And that’ll be followed by yoga with Hannah and our regular crafternoon. So there’s plenty going on.

And I just want to give you a heads-up about services towards the end of the month – on 23^rd August there will only be an in-person service (because everyone who can set up the tech is away) – and on 30^th August there will an online-only service (we wouldn’t normally have a service at all on the bank holiday weekend due to Notting Hill Carnival but I didn’t want to leave our online congregation without a service for 2 weeks in a row! So we’ll do something on Zoom that week).

Details of all our various activities are printed on the order of service, and also in the Friday email, so sign up for our mailing list if you haven’t already done so, and the summer newsletter is out (if you know anyone who might be interested in what we do then take a copy to give them for free). The congregation very much has a life beyond Sunday mornings; we encourage you to keep in touch, look out for each other, and do what you can to nurture supportive connections.

Just time for our closing words and closing music now.

Benediction: based on words by Darcy Roake

There is too much hardship in this world to not find joy, every day.

There is too much injustice in this world to not right the balance, every day.

There is too much pain in this world to not do the holy work of healing, every day.

Each of us ministers to a weary world.

Let us go forth now and do that which calls us

to make this world more loving, more compassionate

and more filled with the grace of divine presence, every day. Amen.

Closing Music: Mozart - 5th Violin Concerto Exposition (performed by Sophia Kannathasan and Andrew Robinson)

Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall and Dr. Patricia Brewerton

9th August 2026