Laetitia

I went to a Catholic grammar school growing up in Syracuse. One of my very clearest first memories of religious instruction was an activity my class did in kindergarten.  We were each given a sheet a paper (or was it that we had to tear the perforated sheet from a book?) that had a very large heart shape ready for us to color.  Indeed others may have wanted to color it purple or green or orange, but I stuck to red being a complete and utter color purist. After we were finished coloring our paper hearts, we instructed to take a glue stick and apply it to our newly colored hearts. Then, we were given table salt to apply it the heart. We were learning what Jesus had said in Matthew, “You are the salt of the earth.”

Salt is actually an important ingredient. Salt was considered a mark of civilization for its ability to preserve food and diminish the dependency on seasonal produce. So valuable was salt that Roman soldiers were partly paid in salt for their wages. In Matthew, Jesus says, “You are the salt of the earth. But if salt loses its taste, with what can it be seasoned? It is no longer good for anything but to be thrown out and trampled underfoot.” What can we infer?

Salt is unique in its ability to season and preserve — it never loses its flavor. So what did Jesus mean by salt losing its flavor? In the time of Jesus, they did not refine salt as we do today and instead went to the shores of the Dead Sea or the Salt Sea to comb the salt from the sand. However, it was difficult to differentiate between the sand and salt and thus most salt was a mixture of both. If the salt had more sand than salt, it was said to have lost its flavor.

It is in this sense that we can take a glimpse of Jesus’ meaning. If we are salt, then we have the ability to enhance and sustain the world. As human beings made in the image and likeness of God, we cannot lose our flavor. However, when we choose anything other than God’s love, we begin to add sand to our salt and gradually we begin to lose our flavor. In other words, we lose our ability to be present in the world as participants in the Christ mystery. And so, if dilute and delude ourselves with more and more sand, we become dangerously close to being of no use other than to be thrown out and trampled underfoot.

This is in part, too, about appearances and underlying realities. We may appear to be like salt but actually be full of sand, betraying ourselves and others. Our selfishness gains us abundant sand, but the good of what we could do is so diminished that it could easily be trampled underfoot. And with a world full of so much brokeness around every corner, we certainly need more salt and less sand. We must become the salt of the earth for the sake of the humble love of God so we can transform the world into love out of the hate.

Because I am from Syracuse, NY,  I am sharing a receipe very unique to Syracuse: salt potatoes. Salt mining has a long history in Syracuse and the Irish immigrants in Syracuse developed this combination in the 19th century. This appeals to my Irish roots, my Irish ancestors having come over in the early 19th century. 

Salt Potatoes
1 1/4 pounds kosher or rock salt
2 quarts water
2 pounds small fingerling, or small red potatoes, cleaned
4 tablespoons butter
 

In a large pot, combine the salt, water, and potatoes and bring to a boil. Cook until the potatoes are fork-tender, approximately 25 to 30 minutes. Remove from the pot to a cooling rack and let stand for 5 to 7 minutes. Serve with drawn butter.

Trackback URI | Comments RSS