[Note: This sermon continues the exposition of Matthew 23:13–26 and reviews the first three woes before proceeding to woes four and five. Delivered 12 April 1981, Montreal.]
We continue today in the word of God and in the teaching of our Lord Jesus in Matthew chapter 23. We began to study the symptoms of spiritual disease last week, and I pointed out that we must approach this chapter with the right attitude. The right attitude is not to imagine that this chapter applies to others but not to us; in fact, when we think it does not apply to us, that is precisely when it does. We can describe the seven woes of this chapter as the seven symptoms of a spiritual cancer. If any of these symptoms are found in your life, you know that you have been struck with something that must be cut out. Let us examine ourselves carefully, rather than the Pharisees.
The first woe — "you shut the kingdom of heaven against men" — does not mean we deliberately hinder others. But something in our conduct may be putting others off without our knowing it. Many people say: "I refuse to become a Christian because the Christians I know disgust me." And the Christians concerned think themselves not too bad; the problem is how they appear from the outside. One of the ways we can do this even within the church is by criticizing those who are pressing forward to higher standards. I was once saddened when a sister criticized members of the training team for fasting, as though their pursuit of spiritual excellence made them proud. What we ourselves do not achieve — or perhaps do not even seek to achieve — we can try to pull back from others, because if they go ahead of us, we feel distressed that they are overtaking us. We prefer to feel that we are all on the same level. But that is not the spirit of Christ. The one who trains disciples and watches them surpass him should be delighted, not threatened.
A foundational point emerges here: in the spiritual life, what matters is not what we think we are doing, but what God evaluates. The Pharisees did not think of themselves as shutting the kingdom against others, nor as failing to enter it themselves. They were of all people the most certain of their place in the kingdom. That is why the most certain are often the least secure. True assurance is not built on a formula — "I was baptized, I made my profession, I believe." Paul tells us in Romans 8 that true assurance comes only from God, from the Spirit of God bearing witness to our spirit that we are his children. And that kind of openness to the Spirit — which gives assurance — is the same openness that allows him to convict us of sin. If you are truly open to God, he will not spend all his time rebuking you; a father does not scold his child the whole day long. But the person who is truly open to his assurance is also open to his conviction, and that sensitivity keeps the spiritual life honest and alive.
The second woe — missionary zeal producing converts twice as worthy of hell — exposes a crucial distinction: religious activity is not the same as spirituality. These are not just different but often opposite. We evaluate the vitality of an evangelical church by its missionary activity, and we cheat ourselves into thinking our zeal for mission reflects our zeal for God. A pastor of a busy church may spend the least time in prayer of anyone in his congregation — so consumed by working for God that he has no time to be with God. The deeper question is always: are you merely active in religion, or are you genuinely walking with God? And the way to check this is simple: do you feel closer to God sitting in a church building or walking in a forest? Not that church buildings are bad — but if the external settings of religion have become more important to you than the living relationship itself, the warning lights should come on.
The third woe — blind guides, with their elaborate system of binding and non-binding oaths — exposes the lack of commitment to truth. The Lord Jesus told his disciples: let your yes be yes and your no be no. Commitment to truth means that you say what you will do and you do what you say. Why did the Pharisees determine that certain oaths were non-binding? Because behind the spiritual-sounding apparatus of oath law, carnal motives were at work: the love of money was determining what counted as binding. This is hypocrisy at its root — something carnal dressed in spiritual clothing. Examine your motives honestly. Why did you do this? Why did you say that? Is the real reason the spiritual one you would give publicly, or is there something else underneath that you have dressed in pious language?
Now we come to the fourth woe, in verse 23: "Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you tithe mint and dill and cumin, and have neglected the weightier matters of the law: righteousness and mercy and faith. These you ought to have done, without neglecting the others. You blind guides, straining out a gnat and swallowing a camel!" The symptom here is the concern with small things while neglecting the big things. We concern ourselves with light, easy things and overlook what is called here the weightier matters. We think that because we did some small thing, we have done all that is required. A striking example from church history: why are Baptists called Baptists? Because of a particular emphasis on adult baptism — a reaction against infant baptism, a strong position on a detail of practice. Nothing wrong with adult baptism. But when we use this detail to exclude the rest of the church as spiritually inferior, when we build a whole denomination around it and treat Anglicans as somehow less Christian, we have emphasized the detail and overlooked our commitment to righteousness, mercy, and faith. "Should we not love one another all the same, despite this difference?" It is somewhat shameful that we have built the whole denomination on the matter of baptism.
Consider how we do this in daily life. Between husband and wife, how many explosions happen over something so trivial that an hour later you think: how ridiculous. The cup was not in the right place. The wrong towel was used. The whole scene blows up because of something utterly minor, while matters of love and justice and faithfulness are completely forgotten. With flatmates, with children, with colleagues — we blow tiny things out of all proportion and miss what is truly important. We evaluate people by their hairstyle, by whether their shoes appeal to us, by first impressions we form in seconds. If I had only seen a picture of John Song before hearing about him, I would have had a shock — he looked nothing like the spiritual giant people described. We are so superficial in our evaluations. We must make up our minds: I will not care what this person's hairstyle is like. What I want to know is: what is his commitment to the Lord? What is his love, his stand for righteousness and truth? Those are the weightier things.
The fifth woe is in verse 25: "Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you cleanse the outside of the cup and of the plate, but inside they are full of extortion and rapacity." The picture is of someone polishing the outside of a cup while the inside remains dirty — not even worried about the inside, very concerned with the outside. This is another form of the substitution we have been examining: concern with the external and temporary while neglecting the important things inside. When you see the Pharisee from outside, he looks so good — his broad phylacteries, his long tassels, his prayer shawl — very impressive, almost as striking as any cardinal in crimson robes. But what is inside? We treat people differently depending on how they dress; James warns us about this. Someone comes to church beautifully dressed and gets a prominent seat; someone poorly dressed is directed to the back. That is evaluating people from the outside.
What does inside look like? "Extortion and rapacity." The word translated "extortion" in the Greek actually means greediness — specifically, the desire to take or keep something that does not belong to you. The Old Testament example of Ahab is vivid: he coveted Naboth's vineyard, was told it was not for sale, and contrived to have the man killed so he could take it. We may not do something as extreme as that, but the nature is the same. Among young people especially, the sexual temptation falls precisely here — wanting to take a sexual experience that is not yours to have at that time, going a little further, and finding you cannot stop. That is what this word means: taking what is stolen, having what is not rightfully yours. The word "rapacity" translates a Greek word meaning lack of self-control, and is used specifically in the context of sexual desire — the same Greek word as "self-control" in 1 Corinthians 7:5, where Paul tells married couples not to refuse one another lest Satan tempt them through lack of self-control.
We can seek to take what is not ours in many ways beyond the sexual. We want a reputation better than we deserve. We drop hints of our exploits, plant small stories about how much we helped someone, say things that lead people to think better of us than is truly warranted.
[Continues in Part B]
# Woe to You Hypocrites — Matthew 23:13–26 (Part B) — Examining Motives; Flattery and Manipulation; Seeking Glory from God not Men
[Note: This is Part B of the sermon on Matthew 23:13–26, continuing directly from Part A. Delivered 12 April 1981, Montreal.]
How many people enter Bible college for reasons they would never state publicly? A student who failed to get into university elsewhere tells himself: "God closed the door there, so God led me here." But the honest question is whether that is really guidance or simply a comfortable explanation for the next available option. And even if someone was accepted elsewhere and chose Bible college anyway — is the motive necessarily pure? It might be that his girlfriend has gone to Bible college and he does not want to lose sight of her for too many hours a day. Would he say that? He would say the Lord led him. And he might genuinely believe it. This is how subtle the self-deception is — the carnal reasons are not hidden deliberately; they are wrapped so thoroughly in spiritual language that even the person who holds them does not clearly see them. The heart of man is deceptive above all things.
How then do we overcome the fifth disease — concern with the outside, greediness for what is not ours, lack of self-control? We must learn to stress what is internal rather than external. We must learn to seek no glory from men. That is the key. Ask yourself honestly: how do you feel when someone praises you? Immediately it feels good, doesn't it? That feeling tells you something about where your heart is anchored. People use flattery as a weapon precisely because it works so reliably — tell someone nice things, even insincere things, and you can get them to do almost anything. I say this particularly to sisters: I have seen many times a woman simply swept off her feet by a smooth, oily tongue that kept piling up compliments. "Oh, your hairstyle is so beautiful. Which hairdresser do you go to?" "Oh, I did it myself." "Your skill is incredible." And so it goes, and gullible people are simply carried off. It is dreadful.
Flattery is also a technique used to lead people into sin and into false teaching. I know a very intelligent, highly educated person — two doctorates — who was drawn out of the church and into the Mormon sect. How? Because the soul-winner used this technique: just piling up praise and compliments until this person was simply carried away. These groups are not unwilling to use flattery to proselytize, to smooth their way into someone's life and carry them off. And they are effective — precisely because they play on our weakness for the praise of men. If you want to survive spiritually, learn not to seek glory from men. Do not seek praises of men. The moment you stop needing people to think well of you, you are far less vulnerable to being manipulated by those who offer it. And you are far less likely to pursue sin in exchange for it.
There is a pattern here. Satan uses flattery to get us into sin in many ways. Many a brother and many a sister will willingly compromise a boundary simply because someone buttered them up first. Just say nice things to them, make them feel special — and you can soon have what you should not have. The cure for this is precisely the opposite: learn to seek the glory of God above the praise of men. If what God thinks of you matters more than what people think of you, you cannot be flattered into doing what God forbids. And you will not be a flatterer yourself, manipulating others toward your own ends. This is the answer to the fifth woe.
In summary, what we have seen in these five woes are five interconnected symptoms of the same spiritual disease. The first is pride that shuts the kingdom against others while thinking itself very righteous. The second is religious activism that mistakes busyness for spirituality. The third is lack of commitment to truth, disguising carnal motives in spiritual language. The fourth is spiritual disproportion — obsessing over minor details while neglecting the weightier matters of righteousness, mercy, and faith. The fifth is concern with the external and a greediness for what is not ours. Behind all five lies one root: the priority of self over God, the seeking of what pleases men or gratifies the self above what pleases God. These are the symptoms to watch for.
We will continue next time with the remaining woes. Let us be quiet before God in prayer.