Sunday, August 12, 2007
An American's Translation of Matthew 5:13
Certain interpretations of the New Testament text arise for us not because of a poor understanding of the text, but from a poor rendering of the concept into its roughest equivalent in our own language. Matthew 5:13 has been almost without exception translated in such a manner:
The slip up comes in our conception of what salt is for. We put salt in food. We don't have any other every day uses for it. So to us, the "saltiness" of salt must refer to taste. This is how all the English translations understand the text, even The Message.
Most Western Christians have heard the explanation that salt was used as currency in the ancient world, most notably to pay soldiers in the Roman army. As a resource it was easily transported, did not rot, was not easily diluted or modified (unlike metal currency), and could be traded as a real commodity. Especially in the declining years of the Roman Empire, people became suspicious of coinage, and rightly so. Instances of devaluation, dilution, and inflation in metal currency leading to massive famine were all too common. There was something lasting about salt, both in its capacity to preserve and in its consistent value:
Or the translation I favor:
We are the incorruptible measure of life, the universal currency of heaven, and in some mystical way we are meant to communicate the immortality of the age to come. Indeed, if we lose that quality, what value do we have left? We are no longer fit to preserve this world in preparation for the coming of the Lord.
"You are the salt of the earth, but if salt has lost its taste, how shall its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything except to be thrown out and trampled under people’s feet."
The slip up comes in our conception of what salt is for. We put salt in food. We don't have any other every day uses for it. So to us, the "saltiness" of salt must refer to taste. This is how all the English translations understand the text, even The Message.
Most Western Christians have heard the explanation that salt was used as currency in the ancient world, most notably to pay soldiers in the Roman army. As a resource it was easily transported, did not rot, was not easily diluted or modified (unlike metal currency), and could be traded as a real commodity. Especially in the declining years of the Roman Empire, people became suspicious of coinage, and rightly so. Instances of devaluation, dilution, and inflation in metal currency leading to massive famine were all too common. There was something lasting about salt, both in its capacity to preserve and in its consistent value:
After this he says, “On every gift you shall offer salt,” by which he signifies, as I have said before, complete permanence. Salt acts as a preservative to bodies, ranking in this as second in honor to the life-principle. For just as the life-principle causes bodies to escape corruption, so does salt, which more than anything else keeps them together and makes them in a sense immortal." (Philo, De Sanctificantibus)The salt of the earth, then, aren't just the people who make life tasty. That is a surprisingly diluted concept from the ancient value placed on salt. I suggest two different routes on this passage for a more dynamic translation. The first is to use the roughest equivalent substance to salt in our world, which is gold. The second is to forego a substantial view altogether in favor of a conceptual one.
"You are the gold of the earth. But if the gold loses its value, how can it become valuable again? It is nothing more than a rock, fit only to be thrown away."
Or the translation I favor:
"You are the universal and international currency. If that currency loses its value utterly, how can it regain that value? It is only a piece of paper, a bit of metal, or a series of numbers in a computer: meaningless to anyone."
We are the incorruptible measure of life, the universal currency of heaven, and in some mystical way we are meant to communicate the immortality of the age to come. Indeed, if we lose that quality, what value do we have left? We are no longer fit to preserve this world in preparation for the coming of the Lord.
Chris B., 8:31 PM
2 Comments:
I like your interpretation, but it then begs the question - how do we lose that value?
Gina Marie, at 4:47 PM
That's a good question. I think if the metaphors of the light on a stand, or a city on a hill are at all analogous to the "salt" of the earth imagery, we can take what is said in verse 16 as indicative: "In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven."
