Jesus doesn’t teach like scribes.

Mark 1.21-22, Matthew 7.28-29. Luke 4.31-32.

As Jesus wrapped up his Sermon on the Mount, Matthew includes a comment about the way he taught his lessons, and the way his listeners reacted to it:

Matthew 7.28-29 KWL

28It happens when Jesus finishes these lessons,

the masses are amazed at his teaching:

29Jesus’s teaching isn’t like their scribes,

but like one who has authority.

It’s much the same way Mark and Luke described it when Jesus first began teaching in synagogue. Even walking-around rabbis like Jesus would teach in synagogue: They’d teach their kids on weekdays, and the general population on Sabbath—meaning Friday night after sundown. (Jewish days go from sundown to sundown, not midnight to midnight.)

Pharisee custom was for the synagogue president to let anyone anyone he recognized as a valid teacher, have the floor. Visiting rabbis and scribes, new guys, or young teachers spoke first. This wasn’t necessarily to honor them. If any of ’em turned out to be wrong, as sometimes they did, the last teacher—usually the synagogue’s senior scribe—would correct them, and get the last word. Synagogues were schools, Pharisees liked to debate, and sometimes they’d spend all night debating. Good thing it was Sabbath; in the morning everyone could sleep in.

Anyway, debates kept synagogue really interesting. But if the synagogue president (and later the Christian ἐπίσκοπος/epískopos, “supervisor”) couldn’t keep order, or when people lack the Spirit’s fruit, it could also become chaos. As you know, some people just don’t know how to be civil. They deliberately pick fights, or make personal attacks. Some will nitpick stupid things, defend loopholes, and spread misinformation. The evening could become an unprofitable waste. Happened among the early Christians too. Tt 3.9-11 Which is discouraging.

Into the belly of this beast, Jesus went to teach about God’s kingdom. Mark says this happened after he collected his first students from their boats; Luke puts this story before he collected ’em. Either way.

Mark 1.21-22 KWL

21Jesus and his students enter Capharnaum.

Next, on entering synagogue on Sabbath,

Jesus is teaching—

22and people are amazed at his teaching.

For in his teaching, Jesus acts like one who has authority,

and not like scribes.

Luke 4.31-32 KWL

31Jesus comes down to Capharnaum,

a city in the Galilee.

He’s teaching the citizens on Sabbath.

32 and they’re amazed at Jesus’s teaching—

because his word is given with authority.

The house on the rock.

Matthew 7.24-27, Luke 6.47-49.

Jesus concludes his Sermon on the Mount with his well-known analogy of building a house on bedrock, as opposed to building it on sand. Living by his teachings is building on bedrock. Ignoring his teachings is building on sand.

I live in California, where we see examples of this analogy played out on a yearly basis: Bad weather comes, and houses which were not built on anything solid either slide down hills, slide off cliffs, or slide into the ocean. Modern-day construction doesn’t bother to dig for bedrock; we build our own “bedrock,” namely steel-reinforced concrete foundations. Which is fine on a level plain which isn’t in danger of flooding, but people build houses everywhere, and don’t always plan for the worst.

Before Jesus became a rabbi he was a builder. Mk 6.3 Or “carpenter,” if you wanna go with the traditional interpretation of τέκτων/tékton—which doesn’t account for the fact a tékton is a person who builds stuff. Could be out of wood, but téktoni could also work in stone or metal, and could build both small things and large—including houses. So when Jesus discusses house-building, he knew what he was talking about. Heck, as Creator, Jn 1.3 when he discusses creating anything, he knows what he’s talking about.

Matthew 7.24-27 KWL

24“So whoever hears these teachings of mine

and does them

will become like a wise man

who builds himself a house on bedrock.

25The rain comes down,

the current comes in,

the winds blow,

and slam into that house—

and it doesn’t fall down,

for it was grounded on bedrock.

26And whoever hears these teachings of mine

and doesn’t do them

will become like a stupid man

who builds himself a house on sand.

27The rain comes down,

the current comes in,

the winds blow,

and slam into that house—

and it falls,

and it’s a huge disaster.”

Luke 6.47-49 KWL

47“Everyone coming to me,

hearing my teachings, doing them—

I’ll show you² what it’s like.

48It’s like a person building a house,

who digs, digs deep,

and makes a foundation on bedrock.

The flood-tide coming, the river bursts upon that house,

and isn’t strong enough to shake it,

because it’s well-built.

49Hearers who don’t do as I teach:

It’s like a person building a house

directly on the ground, without a foundation.

The river bursts on it,

and next it collapses.

The destruction of that house becomes great.”

When Jesus says, “I don’t know you.”

Matthew 7.21-23, Luke 6.46, 13.23-27.

Christians, particularly Evangelicals, quote this next teaching of Jesus a lot. But we tend to do this because we wanna nullify it. It’s scary.

See, it implies there are people who wanna get into God’s kingdom, who honestly think they’re headed there… but when they stand before Jesus at the End, they get the rug pulled out from under them. Turns out they have no relationship with Jesus. Never did. He never knew them. Psyche!

It sounds like the dirtiest trick ever. How can a Christian go their whole life thinking they’re saved, only to find out no they’re not, and they’re not getting into the kingdom? And by process of elimination, they’re therefore going into the fire? Holy crap; shouldn’t this keep us awake nights?

So like I said, Christians figure the solution to this quandary is to nullify it. “Chill out, people: This story isn’t about you. ’Cause you’re good! You said the sinner’s prayer and believe all the right things. This story applies to the people who won’t say the sinner’s prayer, don’t believe all the right things, and don’t realize they’re heretics or in a cult. You’re good. Relax.”

Or you can instead take the Dispensationalist route: “Remember, people, God saves us by grace, not works. And notice what Jesus says in this story about “Law-breakers” Mt 7.23 and “unrighteous workers.” Lk 13.27 He’s clearly talking to the people of the last dispensation, back when God didn’t yet save anybody by grace, and they still had to earn salvation by following the Law. It was true in Jesus’s day, but isn’t anymore. So we can safely ignore these scriptures. They don’t count for our day. They’re null.”

Obviously I’m not going with either of these explanations. I’m no dispensationalist (and neither is Jesus); humans never did earn salvation by racking up good works. Nor by racking up correct beliefs. Humans are saved by grace, and always have been.

So why doesn’t grace appear to apply to these poor schmucks, who tried the narrow door only to find it bolted shut?

Luke 13.23-27 KWL

23Someone told Jesus, “Master, the saved are few.”

Jesus told them¹,

24“Strive to enter through the narrow door.

I tell you² many will seek to enter,

and not be able to.

25At some point the owner could be raised up,

and could close the door.

You² standing outside might begin to knock at the door,

saying, ‘Master, unbolt it for us!’

And in reply he tells you², ‘I don’t know you².

Where are you² from?’

26Then you’ll² begin to say, ‘We ate with you¹!

And drank! And you¹ taught us in the streets!’

27And the speaker will tell you², ‘I don’t know where you’re² from!

Get away from me, unrighteous workers.’ ”

What’d’you mean the Master won’t recognize us? Isn’t he omniscient? Didn’t he at least remember all the times we hung out together? We had a meal with him! (Or at least holy communion—hundreds, if not thousands of times!) We studied what he taught! Why’s Jesus suffering from amnesia or dementia all of a sudden?

Like I said, scary idea. Lots of us like to imagine our salvation is a done deal, a fixed thing, something we can never lose unless we actively reject it. This story throws a bunch of uncertainty into the idea, and we hate uncertainty. We wanna know our relationship with Jesus is solid and real, and gonna continue into Kingdom Come.

Watch out for fake and fleshly prophets.

Matthew 7.15-20, 12.33-35, Luke 6.43-45.

Right after Jesus’s teaching about the narrow gate, Jesus gives a warning about people who pretend be prophets, but aren’t.

By prophet we Christians mean someone who’s simply heard from God, and shares whatever he’s said. If God tells me he loves someone, and I tell that someone God loves ’em, that’s prophecy. It’s not complicated. Any Christian who listens to God can do it. It’s why he gave us the Holy Spirit—so “your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams: and on my servants and on my handmaidens I will pour out in those days of my Spirit; and they shall prophesy.” Ac 2.17-18 KJV Every Christian can prophesy, and oughta try.

But of course if there’s a real thing, and it’s valuable, there’s gonna be knock-offs and counterfeits. Hence there are such creatures as fake prophets. More than likely you’ve met some. They pretend to hear God—and they’ve learned some really good tricks to make it sound like they really did!—but they didn’t. For one of many reasons:

• Money, obviously. Churches might pay them to visit, and prophesy over people. Conferences might hire them as speakers. They could sell books and videos. Fans will send ’em money on a regular basis… instead of financially supporting their churches like they should.
• Control over others. They want people to listen to them and obey, because they supposedly speak for God. They want your pastor and church to obey them. They want the government to obey them. When they say jump, you don’t even ask “How high”—you just try to jump as high as you can.
• When sad people hear good news, it makes them so very happy. Well, prophets are in a great position to give sad people good news: Tell ’em what they want to hear! Tell ’em what they’re dying to hear. “You’re worried your atheist grandma went to hell when she died; well I’ve got some great news for you! She repented at the last second and I can see her in heaven right now, giving Jesus a big ol’ hug!” They’ll get so much love for saying such things. Feels great!
• People often presume prophets are extra-special Christians. God’s favorites. More gifted, more blessed, probably more devout. They wanna get revered like Roman Catholics revere their saints, so they try to make sure everybody’s aware they’re a prophet—i.e. automatic sainthood.
• And thanks to that automatic sainthood, fewer people are gonna notice—or believe it—when you sin. It’s a great cover for hypocrites.

There are plenty others. Hence there have always been fake prophets. And in his Sermon on the Mount, Jesus gives us a really handy way to quickly identify a fake prophet: Their character. Their behavior. If they’re legit, they’re gonna be following the Holy Spirit and producing his fruit. If they’re not, they won’t.

Matthew 7.15-20 KWL

15“Watch out for the fake prophets,

who come to you² dressed as sheep,

but underneath they’re greedy wolves.

16 You’ll² recognize them by their fruits.

People don’t pluck grapes from thornbushes,

nor figs from thistles, do they?

17So every good tree grows good fruits,

and a rotten tree grows bad fruits.

18A good tree doesn’t grow bad fruits,

nor a rotten tree grow good fruits.

19Every tree not growing good fruit

is cut down and thrown into fire.

20It’s precisely by their fruits

that you’ll² recognize them.”

When we follow the Spirit, usually his personality makes a serious impact on our personalities. We begin to act like him. More love, joy, peace, patience, and all the godly traits Paul listed in Galatians, Ga 5.22-23 plus other traits God has which we see mentioned in the New Testament. Like grace.

If you’re a fake prophet, y’might be able to fake the prophecies convincingly. Maybe even the fruit… temporarily. People who observe you up-close, long-term, will know whether you’re legitimately producing fruit or not. Which is why a lot of the fakes who aren’t, try to make sure people don’t observe ’em up-close, long-term. It’s why they prefer independent prophetic ministries, separate from any churches which might be able to catch ’em when they’re not performing. Why they travel, stay in town just for a weekend, and their riders insist on separate hotel accommodations—instead of staying with anyone from the church, and spending significant time with them. It’s why the stuff they preach sounds so iffy when you actually know your bible… and why the fruit they profess also sounds kinda fake.

The narrow gate. Or door. Either way, tricky to get in.

Matthew 7.13-14, Luke 13.23-24.

Most people are universalist, meaning in the end—if not at Judgment Day, at least way, way further down the road—God’s gonna relent, and let everybody into his kingdom.

Doesn’t matter how much they want nothing to do with God in this life. They might be full-on atheist. Might embrace another religion altogether. Might not even be good; they’re selfish, wicked, rebellious, downright evil. But universalists figure God loves everybody, so in the end he’ll just forgive all and let every last bloody one of ’em in. Even traitors, child molesters, genocidal mass murderers. They might have to spend a few thousand years in hell or purgatory first, but eventually they’ll get out and go to heaven. You get the kingdom, and you get the kingdom, and everybody gets the kingdom! (That last line works best if you can imagine it in Oprah Winfrey’s voice. But you don’t have to.)

The problem is Jesus said he’s not letting everybody in. He said this more than once. Today’s verses are two of the instances.

Matthew 7.13-14 KWL

13“Enter through the narrow gate.

The broad {gate}, the wide road, leads to destruction.

Many are entering destruction by it.

14The narrow gate, the tight road,

leads people to life.

Few are finding it.”

Luke 13.23-24 KWL

23Someone told Jesus, “Master, the saved are few.”

Jesus told them¹,

24“Strive to enter through the narrow door.

I tell you² many will seek to enter,

and not be able to.”

In a number of early copies of Matthew, Jesus only said, “The broad, wide road leads to destruction.” Possibly some copyist threw an extra πύλη/pýli, “gate,” in there before the fourth century; it kinda works, so most bibles go with it. As for Luke, it uses the word θύρας/thýras, “door” instead—but in the Textus Receptus Desiderus Erasmus swapped it for pýlis to make it match Matthew, which is why the KJV has “gate” in both places.

Jesus says there’s a broad gate and a narrow one. A wide road and a tight one. An easy way in, and a somewhat difficult way in. You wanna take the difficult way, ’cause it’s the right one.

Not because Jesus wants it difficult! Not because God doesn’t wanna save everyone. He does. 1Ti 2.4 But entering God’s kingdom means we gotta do it on God’s terms. People would much rather define the terms ourselves, or take a “shortcut” which turns out to be the wrong way entirely. Even when Jesus warns us away from alternate routes.

There’s an open invitation, an open door, and plenty of room. But people would much rather go to their destruction. Partly ’cause it looks like the path of least effort: They get to be absolutely self-centered and awful to everybody, and Pascal’s Wager—the worry there are eternal consequences to these actions—doesn’t sway them in the slightest. Partly ’cause goodness, grace, love, kindness, and generosity make them sick: They prefer karma and reciprocity, and they’re gonna hate how the kingdom lets in all these freeloaders.

Partly ’cause they think their path is smarter, more clever, more exclusive… as if they put one over on God, and found a loophole like the loopholes they find in their taxes. They forget God’s more clever than they. But that’s humanity for ya.

The Golden Rule.

Matthew 7.12, Luke 6.31.

The briefest form I’ve found of the “Golden Rule,” as it’s called, is probably C.S. Lewis’s “Do as you’d be done by.”

I grew up hearing it as “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” And this actually doesn’t come from the King James Version. The KJV has, “And as ye would that men should do to you, do ye also to them likewise.” Lk 6.31 KJV I tried tracking down the other wording, and the earliest I’ve found it is 1790.

Here’s my translation of the two different ways Jesus taught it.

Matthew 7.12 KWL

“So, everything you² want people doing for you²,

you² do this for them.

That’s the Law and the Prophets in sum.”

Luke 6.31 KWL

“Same as you² want

that people might do for you²,

do likewise for them.”

It’s “the Law and the Prophets,” as Jesus put it—meaning the bible of his day, the Old Testament. (Yes the OT consists of Law, Prophets, and Writings; but Israelis understood “Prophets” meant all the ancient stuff written by legitimate prophets, which’d include the Writings. And since Sadducees and Samaritans insisted the bible only consists of the Law, it’s a reminder that’s not so.) The entire moral teaching of the scriptures can be distilled into this one concept: Do as you’d be done by.

Can we really ask God for anything we want?

Matthew 7.7-11, Luke 11.9-13, John 14.13-14, 15.7, 16.4.

These passages are found in the middle of Jesus’s Sermon on the Mount, in Jesus’s teaching on prayer requests in Luke, and as part of Jesus’s Last Supper lesson in John. Obviously the Matthew and Luke bits line up more neatly than the John bits, but the same idea is found in the John verses.

I tend to summarize this idea as “If you don’t ask, you don’t get.” If we want something from Jesus, ask! It’s okay for us to do that. He does take prayer requests.

Matthew 7.7-11 KWL

7“Ask!—it’ll be given you².

Look!—you’ll² find it.

Knock!—it’ll be unlocked for you².

8For all who ask receive,

who seek find,

who knock God’ll unlock for.

9Same as any of you².

Your² child will ask you² for bread;

you² won’t give them¹ a cobblestone.

10Or they’ll¹ ask you² for fish;

you² won’t give them¹ a snake.

11So if you’re² evil,

yet knew to give good gifts to your children,

how much more will your² heavenly Father

give good things to those who ask him?”

Luke 11.9-13 KWL

9 “And I tell you²: Ask!—it’ll be given you².

Look!—you’ll² find it.

Knock!—it’ll be unlocked for you².

10For all who ask receive,

who seek find,

who knock God’ll unlock for.

11Any parent from among you²:

Your² child will ask for fish,

and instead of fish do you² give them¹ a snake?

12Or they’ll¹ ask for an egg;

do you² give them¹ a scorpion?

13So if you² evildoers

knew to give good gifts to your² children,

how much more will your heavenly Father

give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him?”

John 14.13-14 KWL

13“You² can ask whatever in my name.

I’ll do it so, in the Son, the Father can be thought well of.

14When what you² ask me is in my name,

I’ll do it.”

John 15.7 KWL

“When you² stay in me

and my words stay in you²,

whenever you² want, ask!

It’ll happen for you².”

John 16.24 KWL

“Till now you’ve² never asked anything in my name.

Ask!—and you’ll² receive,

so your² joy can be fulfilled.”

This needs to be said, ’cause some folks don’t entirely believe it is okay to ask God for stuff.

When I was a kid, I’d ask my parents for stuff, sorta like the kids in Jesus’s examples. Except those kids asked for bread, fish, and eggs; and I’d ask for a Commodore 64. Sometimes my parents gave me what I asked for. Other times, not so much. Computers weren’t cheap.

When I got persistent—when I wouldn’t take no for an answer, and kept right on asking, seeking, knocking—they’d respond, “Would you stop asking?” Not always because they didn’t want me to have these things. Sometimes they did, but they wanted me to earn money and buy it myself.

And sometimes they’d pull this sort of evil stunt: Say yes, just so I’d suffer the consequences.

Calvin and Hobbes, 25 May 1986. Calvin’s mom teaches him an unnecessary “little lesson.” GoComics

The punchline—“Trusting parents can be hazardous to your health”—is exactly right. Calvin’s mom thought she was teaching him a valuable lesson. She was… but she didn’t do it in a kind way. She did it in a cruel way: She didn’t warn him away from the consequences. She let him suffer them, and suffer ’em even more by surprise. And because humans will do this, sometimes we wonder whether God’ll do likewise: God says yes, and we ironically find out we didn’t want this at all. Meanwhile, up in heaven, he chuckles at our hubris. Ps 2.4

No. That is not how God works. If our flawed plans have unintended consequences, he warns us of those consequences, like he did when Israel demanded a king. He’s not a dick. He’s not secretly evil, plotting our downfall for his amusement or entertainment. Read the Prophets: Why suffer when you don’t have to? Ek 33.11 Turn to God and live!

God wants to give good things to his children, Mt 7.11 and for us to experience the joy of getting what we ask for. Jn 16.24 He wants to give us his kingdom. Lk 12.32 Starting with answered prayer requests.

Deaf ears aren’t opportunities.

Matthew 7.6, Luke 13.6-9.

Way back in my seminary days, I was at my home-away-from-dorm, a popular Capitola coffeehouse called Mr. Toots. (Figured I’d throw ’em a free plug.) I got to talking to some UC Santa Cruz students, ’cause they quickly figured out I was a fellow student and wanted to know which school I went to. Once they realized I was a biblical studies major—a “God expert” (in training, anyway)—they wanted to talk God.

A lot of pagans go through a phase when they head off to school where they question their faith. And rightly so, ’cause they need to question everything, and get rid of those things in their religions which don’t grow their relationships with God. But many will ditch their faith altogether—if they even had any. Some of ’em dabble in other religions; some of ’em even invent their own. And some of ’em flirt with nontheism—either because they honestly think there might be no God, or because they’re jerks and just wanna enrage theists.

That’s what our conversation quickly deteriorated into. These guys wanted to try out their freshly-learned anti-God arguments on the religious guy. Kinda like a kid who just learned a new judo hold, wants to fight everybody with it, and foolishly picks a fight with the taekwondo black belt. Not that I was a black belt in Christianity… and since argumentativeness is a work of the flesh, it’s really the wrong metaphor! But I had been studying Christian apologetics since high school, and since I went to seminary in my late 20s, I did have about a decade on these guys. It wasn’t hard at all to slap their commonplace arguments down.

Still, the arguing grew tiresome, as I realized it was never gonna go anywhere. These guys weren’t curious about God. At all. Didn’t care to learn anything new about him; didn’t wanna listen, repent, and become Christian. This was entirely an intellectual exercise for them. They were just killing time at the coffeehouse. I was just tossing pearls to swine.

Yep, just like in the Sermon on the Mount.

Matthew 7.6 KWL

“Don’t give holy things to the dogs,

nor throw your² pearls before the pigs.

Otherwise they’ll trample them under their feet,

and they might turn and attack you².”

So I called a truce. “Wanna talk about something different?” I said. “I mean, to you this is just light conversation. But to me this is something I take very seriously and personally. I’m having trouble not taking all your God-bashing personally. Wouldn’t you rather talk politics?”

“Yeah, okay.”

So we talked politics. And after a bit, they left.

Double standards.

Mark 4.24, Matthew 7.1-5, Luke 6.37-38, 41-42.

When people don’t wanna condemn anyone, “Judge not, that ye be not judged” Mt 7.1 KJV is a popular proof text they’ll quote. It’s not the best quote though. I already wrote an article about how people take it out of context. Jesus didn’t say it to forbid us from making any judgment statements whatsoever. It’s part of his instruction to make fair judgments.

This bit of his Sermon on the Mount comes right after Jesus teaches us not to worry. And while we’re not worrying, let’s also not prejudge people unfairly.

Matthew 7.1-2 KWL

1“Don’t criticize.

Thus you² won’t be criticized,

2for you’ll² be critiqued

by the very criticism you² criticize with.

The measurement you² measure with,

will measure you².”

Luke 6.37 KWL

“Don’t criticize,

and you² won’t be criticized.

Don’t judge,

and you² won’t be judged.

Forgive,

and you’ll² be forgiven.”

Obviously I translated κρίνετε/krínetë, “criticize,” differently than the KJV’s “judge.” Our English word judge includes a few additional ideas—specifically the idea of formal judgment, official judgment, binding judgment—which aren’t meant to be part of Jesus’s teaching. He’s talking about making up one’s indiviudal mind, not handing down a formal ruling for the community to follow. There’s a whole other word for that, and Luke uses it in verse 37: Κατεδικάσατε/katedikásatë, “pass sentence.” That word is what we nowadays mean by judging. Krínetë is really just about whether things are acceptable in our personal evaluation. Nothing more.

And this kind of personal judgment is something we all do—and should. Everybody evaluates stuff. Daily. It’s part of our ordinarly decision-making processes. We judge which shoes to wear, which breakfast cereals to eat (or not), which coffees to drink (or not), which movies to watch, whether to read TXAB on a daily basis… Life is choices. Every choice involves weighing our options, and critiquing those options. Jesus doesn’t just expect us to do it; he designed us to do it. It’s why he created you with a brain in your skull. It’s not just for memorizing pop lyrics and baseball stats!

This is why he follows up “Don’t criticize” with “you’ll be critiqued by the very criticism you criticize with.” It’s a warning: When we apply our criticisms to others, we’re gonna be held up to the very same standard. As we should. We set that standard fairly, right?—we didn’t make ourselves an exception to the rule, right?

Well… maybe we did. ’Cause that’s human nature. It’s to always selfishly consider ourselves the exception. When we critique other people, we decide whether they meet our approval—and when we do the very same things they do, our standards suddenly change to favor ourselves. If your dad tells a lame “dad joke,” it means his sense of humor is defective; if we tell the very same joke, we’re having ironic fun. If the neighbor cheats on her husband, it’s adultery and awful; if we do it… oh you just don’t understand the circumstances; we’re in love. And so on. We grant ourselves a free pass. Others, not so much.

But Jesus makes it clear we don’t get a free pass. If we ordinarily recognize a behavior is offensive, wrong, or sinful, it’s still just as bad when we do it. We’re not beyond similar criticism. Are we doing right? Because we’ve no business setting ourselves above criticism, like a king who figures he alone has the power to do as he pleases. We aren’t exceptional. Especially when we fall short of our own judgment.

This does not mean the proper response is to critique ourselves more harshly. Jesus says as much in the Luke version of this teaching: “Forgive, and you’ll be forgiven.” When others slip up, forgive. And when we slip up—and people are gonna fairly hold us to the same standard we set for others—our behavior will reflect the Spirit’s fruit more so than yet another self-righteous a--hole. We’re gonna receive grace instead of condemnation. As Jesus intends.

Don’t you worry ’bout a thing.

Matthew 6.25-34, Luke 12.22-32.

Right after Jesus stated in his Sermon on the Mount how we can’t have both God and Mammon as our masters, he gets to the core reason why we humans tend to slide away from trusting God, and instead put our trust in our wealth:

When it comes to basic daily needs, we first look to our wallets. Not God.

We first ask whether we can afford it. Not whether God even wants us to do these things, much less pay for them. We don’t submit our wishes and intentions to God for his approval; we don’t even think about his approval. Either ’cause we presume we already have it… or because we think this is one of those areas in our lives where the decision is totally ours, and ours alone. Jesus is not the Lord here.

I make this mistake too. When I shop for groceries, I don’t think, “Does God even want me to buy those chocolate bars?” then ask him, and find out. I think, “I want those chocolate bars, and they’re within my budget.” Nevermind that I need to cut back on sugar; nevermind that the cocoa beans were likely picked by slave labor; nevermind that I can control my taste buds and other such urges when I choose. I don’t consider God’s will as often as I should.

And this is a much harder lesson for rich Christians to learn. In wealthy countries, we have crazy standards for what denotes our “basic daily needs.” It’s not just food, drink, and clothing, as Jesus addresses in the following teaching. It’s having a roof over your head. A bed. Electricity and gas, for the central heat and air conditioning. Oh, and since we have electricity: A refrigerator to keep the food in. Internet and wifi, and some kind of streaming service so we can watch TV and movies. A phone. An email address. Probably a car, ’cause you can’t expect us to just walk everywhere.

Food and drink is no longer just grains, vegetables, and water: We gotta have meat and dairy. If we’ve learned about some special diet we really oughta be on—whether our doctors tell us so or not—we want that accommodated too: Gluten-free grains, keto-friendly vegetables, vegan dairy products. Oh, and we gotta have coffee and beer and sugary and salty snacks. We expect a variety of good foods. And enough money to sometimes go to a restaurant.

Clothing is no longer a single loincloth, tunic, robe, and sandals, with maybe an extra change just in case: We gotta have at least two weeks’ worth of outfits. And they gotta be fashionable, so we won’t just fit in, but stand out as especially good-looking. Plus an extra-nice outfit for important occasions, like church or parties.

If you only have the basics and no more, in a rich country you’d be considered poor. Not comfortable; not okay; poor. But in a poor country, like ancient Judea… wealthy.

That’s something to keep in mind whenever Jesus talks about not having enough. Ancient Israel, where Jesus lived, whether in the Galilee or Judea, would be what Donald Trump would call a s---hole country. It was poor. The largest part of the population survived on less than $2 a day. The families who ran the Judean senate had money, but that was old-family wealth, or they got it by collaborating with the Romans, same as the taxmen. The rest of them were subsistence farmers, or day laborers like Jesus’s dad and later Jesus himself: Scratching to get by. Legitimately concerned about daily needs.

The folks Jesus preached to? They had way less than we who live in rich countries. They’d be what we consider destitute. Near-homeless. They didn’t imagine themselves so, but hey: Different countries, different millennia, different standards.

Yet in the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus told ’em to quit worrying. Because worry wasn’t getting them anywhere.

Matthew 6.25 KWL

“This is why I tell you²:

Stop worrying about what your² soul would eat {or drink},

or what your² body would wear.

Isn’t your² soul more than food?

—your² body more than clothes?”

Luke 12.22-23 KWL

22Jesus told his students, “This is why I tell you²:

Stop worrying about what your² soul would eat,

or what {your²} body would wear.

23The soul is more than food;

the body more than clothes.”

Try to wrap your brain around this idea: One set of clothing. Maybe three days’ worth of food in the pantry. Water comes from the creek or well. No electricity nor gasoline. No money; you gotta barter for everything. This isn’t because there’s a dire recession: This is life. This has always been life, as far as you or your parents or grandparents knew. Every day’s a struggle. And here Jesus is, telling you to stop worrying about food or clothing, because God has your back.

The typical American response to this? “Are you nuts, Jesus? I’m poor!”

Yeah, you are. Poor in faith. That’s why it’s easier to shove camels through needles than get rich Christians into God’s kingdom. Mk 10.25 We just aren’t always aware Jesus was making that statement about us.