Setting a Bad Example
Setting a Bad Example
Matthew 23:1-12
Six hundred years before the Incarnation of Christ, there was a Greek storyteller. His name was Aesop. Ancient philosophers, Aristotle, Herodotus, and Plutarch, mention details of Aesop’s life. One ancient source, known as The Aesop Romance, tells the story of his life, probably heavily fictionalized. It says that he was particularly ugly, and a slave who won his freedom with his clever stories and became an advisor to kings. Whether any of that is true or not, we have a collection of stories, The Fables of Aesop. One of those stories is apropos to our Scripture for this morning:
A Dog asleep in a manger filled with hay, was awakened by the Cattle, which came in tired and hungry from working in the field. But the Dog would not let them get near the manger, and snarled and snapped as if it were filled with the best of meat and bones, all for himself.
The Cattle looked at the Dog in disgust. "How selfish he is!" said one. "He cannot eat the hay and yet he will not let us eat it who are so hungry for it!"
Now the farmer came in. When he saw how the Dog was acting, he seized a stick and drove him out of the stable with many a blow for his selfish behavior.
The moral of the story is this: Do not begrudge to others what you cannot (or do not) enjoy yourself.
When I was a child, there was an international crisis of sorts, known as a “Cold War.” It was more a war of words and a clattering of swords, so to speak, between the two superpowers of the world – the United States and the USSR, the Soviet Union. We felt the threat of a Communist takeover. Senator Joseph McCarthy launched a search for “reds”, communist agents or sympathizers in government, media, entertainment, and education. When the Soviets built a missile base on Cuba, President Kennedy ordered a “quarantine” of Cuba until the Soviets backed down. Our reaction was to have “air raid drills” where school children hid under their desks. We still had black-out shades in our schools when I was in Junior High School. My parents taught me a survival technique – It was that you appear to go along with them while secretly maintaining your faith, like a radish – red on the outside and white on the inside. This bit of history is also apropos to our Scripture.
After the four encounters with the Pharisees and Sadducees, over Jesus’ authority (21:23-32), taxes (22:15-22), marriage and the resurrection (22:23-33), and the law (22:34-39), Jesus now turns to his disciples and to the crowds. He begins to criticize the Pharisees and teachers of the law, and will curse them seven times. We’ll get to the curses in a couple weeks when Jesus speaks directly to them. But here, he is ignoring them, knowing they are listening, and talking instead to the common folks around him.
The teachers of the law and the Pharisees sit in Moses’ seat. They hold positions of honor. It is true of many situations that dishonorable people hold positions of honor. We wonder why we have to respect such disreputable people. Take the law to honor our parents. Even if they are lousy parents, the Scripture commands us still to honor them. Paul wrote to Ephesus that this was the first command with a promise (Eph 6:2). “So that it may go well with you and that you may enjoy long life on the earth.” (Eph 6:3). That is, we do it for our own sake. Just because they are dishonorable does not mean we are allowed to be. We earn respect by our respectful behavior. God’s command and promise did not even assume that parents would always be worthy. Whether you like a certain politician, you respect the position. Whether you like your pastor, you respect the position. He may not fill it well. But we ought to reject the negative, critical spirit.
“So you must be careful to do everything they tell you.” Jesus tells his followers that the Pharisees and scribes are teaching the law. Their words are right. The law is the law whether we represent it well or not. “But you must not do what they do, for they do not practice what they preach.” In a nutshell, Jesus has just described hypocrisy and labeled the religious leaders hypocrites. They teach rightly, but they don’t live it out. In fact, as we’ve discussed before, they actually interpret the rules to their own benefit. Their traditions violate the law.
And here is where the concept of the radish comes into play. You do what they tell you is the law, but you don’t imitate their lives. You appear to be one thing, but you live differently. You see, the problem with hypocrites is that people think that what the hypocrites do is the measure of faith. People leave the church because of the hypocrites. They don’t leave because the teaching is wrong, but because the lives of believers don’t match the teaching.
John Dickson tells of the time he hired a cello, took two hours of lessons, and practiced for five days to prepare to play a part of Bach’s Prelude to Cello Suite No. 1 in G Major at a Sydney theater. It is a beautiful, haunting solo piece. I watched Yo Yo Ma and Mischa Maisky each play it. Watching in the wings was concert cellist Kenichi Mizushima. Dickson’s goal was to illustrate this point: his poor performance did not change the beauty of Bach’s Prelude. Bach was still a genius composer, even though Dickson played him poorly. Dickson compares that to Christians and Christ. Jesus Christ is still a marvelous Savior even though Christians “play him” poorly.1 My point is this (and I think Jesus agrees), no matter how poorly your pastor plays Christ, that doesn’t change Christ, and it doesn’t change the gospel. You can follow the teaching even if you can’t follow the life of the teacher. No matter how poorly others “play” Christ, no matter how well someone else lives the Christian life – understand this: that doesn’t change Jesus one bit. It doesn’t change the gospel one iota. It doesn’t change God’s power – it doesn’t even challenge God’s power. You can trust Christ even if Christians let you down.
“They tie up heavy, cumbersome loads and put them on other people’s shoulders, but they themselves are not willing to lift a finger to move them.” The first of the curses follows this closely: “Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You shut the door of the kingdom of heaven in people’s faces. You yourselves do not enter, nor will you let those enter who are trying to” (Mt 23:13). They were being dogs in the manger, unwilling to observe what they commanded, Jesus said, blocking the entrance to the kingdom so that those who wanted to could not get in. We’ll deal with that more in a couple of weeks. But for now the point Jesus is making is that while the Pharisees may have been teaching correctly, they were in practice making it difficult for others to keep the law. But it was worse than that.
“Everything they do is done for people to see.” You may have seen photographs of Orthodox Jews in Jerusalem. They bind a little black box to their forehead and often carry a second one wrapped around their left wrist. That’s a phylactery, and in keeping with Deuteronomy 6:6-9, it contains a small scroll with the Shema written on it. It’s one thing to wear a phylactery, and Jesus doesn’t condemn them. But he does note that the Pharisees made theirs large and visible. They stood on the street-corners to pray their long, flowery prayers. They wore longer robes with longer, more elaborate tassels. They made their righteousness a spectacle. They wanted to be greeted with honor, to sit in the seats of honor at banquets, they use their titles and degrees to remind you of their inherent superior faith and intelligence. They want to be admired, complimented, and rewarded.
Do you know how Jesus responds to that? With a simple contrast: “But you ...”
Paul does this with Corinth, after reminding them of past sinfulness, wrote, that is what some of you were. But you were washed, you were sanctified (1 Co 6:11). And twice, instructing Timothy, no matter what others do – but you, man of God, flee from all this, and pursue righteousness (1 Tim 6:11), and when all around you are losing their minds – but you, keep your head in all situations (2 Tim 4:5). Others may live wrongly, believe wrongly, act against the truth, but you, Christian, are different.
You may have earned a title or a degree. Jesus says, don’t parade it, don’t insist on it, just don’t make it a thing at all. “You are not to be called ‘Rabbi,’ for you have one Teacher, and you are all brothers.” I have a problem, or I should say, we have a problem. Many in the world will not listen unless the words are backed by some authority. There is a logical fallacy - the appeal to authority – that argues, not from fact, but from the person who speaks the fact. It carries more weight if spoken by one who has a degree. Look at all the blowback Robert Kennedy, Jr., gets as Secretary of Health. “Why should we listen to him? He’s not a doctor.” I can state medical fact, quote a medical journal, and someone online will challenge me, “Where did you get your medical degree?” Don’t get me wrong: I’m not above challenge. I’m often wrong and sometimes misinformed. And I’m not saying we should just accept anything people say. We ought to be critical thinkers and skeptical of truth claims. We ought not just accept something as fact because an MD or a PhD says it. And those who have degrees ought not expect automatic respect because of our degree. We are not to parade our degrees or our titles.
“And do not call anyone on earth ‘father,’ for you have one Father, and he is in heaven.” I’m not sure that Jesus was referring to our parent. I think he was referring to those religious leaders of his day who had taken the title as an honorific – as might be addressing the high priest as Father Caiaphas. As a title, “Father” belongs only to God. I am a father, but not the Father. I am a pastor, but not the Shepherd. I am an instructor, but not the Instructor. It is Jesus, the Messiah, who leads us, who teaches us, who shows us how we ought to live, who sets our priorities.
But you ... if you want to be great, be a servant. Find ways to meet needs. Hold the door. Pick up a dropped book. Share your hymnal or Bible. Jesus said, “The greatest among you will be your servant.” He will be the one you remember. She will be the one you honor. There are many ways to serve, to be a help to others. You can help carry a load, or carry in groceries for a neighbor. You can tie a child’s shoelace, or offer a cup of water to a thirsty elder. You can offer a ride to church or to the doctor’s office. Servants see needs and find ways to meet them. We buy our drinking water in five-gallon jugs. A young man at Winco offered to load it into the car for me. Servants of Christ have open eyes to the world around them.
“For those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.” That’s not just in the kingdom of God; it’s also the way things work here. When we parade our accomplishments and degrees, when we demand attention from others, and do things so that we are notices, when we demand that others address us with titles, people begin to look for chinks in our armor. We become objects of criticism and subjects of gossip. We place ourselves on a pedestal and people start looking for ways to knock us off of it. I guess that’s human nature.
I have conversations with people who are not Christians, and with many who have left the church because of the way they were treated either by the church as a whole or by an individual in the church. I’ve been to churches that were colder than Antarctica, where I was not greeted or even acknowledged. I’ve been gossiped about by Christians and insulted by church people. I’ve seen and heard the way people have been treated. I told you earlier about John Dickson and how he asserts that Christians do not “play” Christ very well. He added, “Disregarding Christianity on the basis of the poor performance of the church is a bit like dismissing Johann Sebastian Back after hearing Dickson attempt the Cello Suites. ... when people turn to contemplate the original, Christ makes Christians look bad.”2
The point is, folks, we need to do better.
No, I take that back. We don’t need to do better; we need to surrender our wills to Christ and let him transform us. We aren’t going to be more like Christ by working harder at it. We’re only going to make a positive difference, and be a positive witness, if we quit acting and let Jesus remake and rebuild us. We often hear that we should act more like Christians. I say we ought to just quit acting and be – just be a Christian. Jesus condemnation of the Pharisees is a condemnation of those who act righteous. We’ll continue this later, but for now, let’s end on this: Jesus calls believers to live holy lives. We are to belong to God. If we do, our lives will reflect that. The world needs authenticity. The world doesn’t need actors; it needs witnesses. Don’t be an actor. Give yourself fully to Jesus, today, and be a witness.
1,2 John Dickson, Bullies and Saints (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2021), pp 23-24