Low Sodium Lifestyle

“You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled by men.” (Matthew 5:13)

Too much salt can kill you. Just ask Jesus. There he was, happily sprinkling himself all over the place and—bang bang bang—three nails and he’s outta there. Then there was Stephen, the mild-mannered waiter, who just happened to dash a little on the wrong dudes. He got stoned and died of a rather violent overdose. But let’s not forget Thomas Becket, John Huss, Joan of Arc, Thomas More, and William Tyndale among many, many, many others who got themselves offed because they were just a bit too salty. History shows that too much salt is extremely hazardous to your health.

Even if salt doesn’t actually kill you, it can make for some serious issues. If you find yourself with a “witnessing opportunity,” your heart rate and blood pressure go up, you feel jittery (salt shaker), your skin goes clammy, you start feeling panic and can become disoriented. Then, if you’re lucky enough to avoid salting somebody, you can feel guilt for a long time afterward. Or if you can’t stand the guilt, you will probably do a bunch of rationalizing to justify your code of silence. Most people, though, deal with the salt issue by simply ignoring the whole thing. Cool.

I myself prefer low-sodium religious cuisine. It’s not that I don’t like Jesus; it’s just that I prefer to keep my connection with him quiet. I prefer blander, subtler seasonings;  say, parsley, sage, rosemary, or thyme. I like to move along in stealth mode, going about my business minding my own business. Hey, my relationships with hip folk are too sweet to sour by pouring salt all over them. Sure, theoretically all these people need to know Jesus, but in real life I’d rather be liked than religious. If any of them come up to me and ask how to be saved, I’ll be happy to give them a couple hints. But I only salt somebody’s french fries by special order.

On the other hand, I do like pouring salt on slugs, which is why I love throwing Jesus in the faces of jerks who deserve to go to hell. Well, I don’t actually throw Jesus in their faces to their faces. I sort of do that in my mind or under my breath when they can’t hear me. I think about how they’re going to burn in unquenchable fire forever and ever—crying, moaning, screaming for a mercy that will never come. I imagine standing on the edge of the fiery pit in my asbestos robe and aiming my salty buns at them while chanting, “I told you so. I told you so.” So, okay. I won’t be able to actually say “I told you so” since I probably won’t have told them so, but I’ll still have fun shaking my shaker on them. Ooo, baby. It’s going to be a white Christ-mess for sure.

Some people are into high-sodium living no matter how much they hear about the health risks. They get a perverted rush from salting up everything in their paths no matter how that negatively affects the people around them or how it gives Christianity a bad taste. I, on the other hand, have no such inclinations. I’ve been practicing a nearly salt-free lifestyle for a long time and have very little seasoning left in me. There’s no way I’m going to let people walk all over me.

Live long and prosper, I say.


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