Our Sermons

Bible Passage: Luke 13:31-35
Pastor: Pastor Schlicht
Sermon Date:  March 17, 2019

A professor of mine at the seminary told us a story of when he used to be a pastor. He visited the husband of one of his members and he asked him why he didn’t come to church with his wife. The man said, “I don’t go because your church is full of hypocrites!” My professor responded by saying, “Yes, it is, but there’s always room for one more.” Hypocrisy is a common indictment of the church. Mahatma Gandhi said it in a different way, “I like your Christ, but I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ.” And while these broad indictments aren’t necessarily incorrect, in some cases—there are Christians who have been a poor reflection of their Savior—the fact of the matter is that all sorts of people can be hypocrites. At some point, all sinful people fail to practice what they preach. This generic accusation of hypocrisy is certainly something we should avoid at all costs, let’s be clear, but it isn’t something only Christians do. However, there is a type of hypocrisy that is specific to Christians and it’s much more dangerous. It is the type of hypocrisy that Gandhi couldn’t see. This is a type of hypocrisy that we could engage in for our entire lives and no one would ever know except God. This type of hypocrisy is what Jesus warns us of in Luke chapter 13.

Jesus was teaching in Perea, a region east of Jerusalem across the Jordan River, when some Pharisees came up to him and said, “Leave this place and go somewhere else. Herod wants to kill you.” And at first this seems nice, like they are watching out for him, but listen to how Jesus replies, “Go tell that fox, I will keep on driving out demons and healing people today and tomorrow, and on the third day I will reach my goal.” Jesus understood the real motivation of the Pharisees and the man who had sent them. They didn’t come to warn him. They had been sent by Herod, that devious “fox” as Jesus called him, to deliver this veiled threat because he didn’t want Jesus to keep teaching in his territory. Jesus told them that he was not going to be bothered by their threat. He was going to teach and heal the sick in Perea for three more days and then he would leave for Jerusalem, but not because Herod wanted him to, only because this was what Jesus had to do. As he says in bitter irony, “In any case, I must press on today and tomorrow and the next day—for surely no prophet can die outside Jerusalem!” We see two types of hypocrisy in this section. Firstly, we have a few Pharisees who were supposed to be godly men, lying under pretense and delivering a threat. Exhibit A: Generic hypocrisy. But then Jesus turned his attention to Jerusalem. And this is a different type of hypocrisy.

Jerusalem was the holy city where God had put his presence in the temple. It was the destination of the pilgrimages, the host of all the religious festivals. Its very name, “Jerusalem” is a combination of the Hebrew words meaning “place of peace” (יְרוּ – שָׁלֵם). Psalms are written about this fabled city and it was home to the most devout Israelites in the world: the Pharisees, the scribes, and the zealots. We often think poorly of these religious leaders, but of all people in the Bible they were maybe the most like us. They were people who went to church, prayed often, and gave their offerings. They defended the purity of God’s Word and were concerned about politics and the rising tide of secularism in their country. Sound familiar? Jerusalem was filled with these people and it had a shining religious reputation. The reason Jesus calls Jerusalem a hypocrite wasn’t because it said it was a city of good character, but really it was a bad, godless place. No, the reason that Jesus condemns Jerusalem is for the very fact that it was so religious; he condemns it as a hypocrite because it was the people of Jerusalem who were successful at living outwardly good lives.

Jesus said, “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, and you were not willing.” Jesus here speaks as God. He says, “I wanted to be your Savior and Lord, I wanted to call you my children, but you weren’t willing!” There’s a lot of context here but this unwillingness is what Jesus was referring to when he said, “surely no prophet can die outside Jerusalem.” You see, Jerusalem, which should have been the “place of peace” was the place which killed God’s prophets. Zechariah and Isaiah are just two examples of prophets killed in Jerusalem. In fact, until the city was destroyed in 70 A.D. it kept slaughtering God’s messengers, including Jesus, Stephen, and James. Why? Because the inhabitants of the city were so successful at being religious they couldn’t stand being told they were sinful. So when the prophets came calling for repentance, they were done away with. In an attempt to protect their own religious character, the religious leaders murdered the very servants of God! It wasn’t unbelief but religious character which become their idol. Jerusalem was a hypocrite because they claimed to trust in God but were unwilling to let him save them. And it still happens in churches today. Everyone, religious or not, strives to validate themselves before others. And as Christians, the more successful we are at living upright lives, the more likely we are to rely on our good character to validate ourselves before God. This is the specific type of Christian hypocrisy: When we say that we trust in Jesus to save us, but we are unwilling to let him do so.

People outside the church often think that Christianity is basically a morality improvement program. Good values, a strong sense of family, moral character these are some the benefits of the church, right? Certainly, these are great blessings. But Christianity is not a morality improvement program. Morality improvement is a by-product of knowing Jesus, but having better character doesn’t mean that you are a better Christian, if there is such a thing. As Jesus said, “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick.” The church is supposed to be a hospital for sinners, not a museum of saints. The message isn’t, clean up your act and then come to church.” It’s, “Come all you who are weary and burdened.” We want the sick here! We want people who are burdened with addictions, who are struggling with insecurities and character flaws. We want every sinner in any walk of life to meet their Savior. We want sin-sick souls to be in the hospital for sinners.

Do you know what is extraordinary about hospitals?  Some of the people who look the healthiest are really some of the sickest. You may walk into one room and see a man undergoing open-heart surgery–well you know he needs help! But if you walk into the cancer wing and see someone with brain cancer who isn’t far into treatment, just by appearances, you might not think anything is wrong. In fact, the diseases which we can’t detect are often the most dangerous. And just so some Christians with good character can be far more lost than the most obvious sinner. That’s the staggering punch line: Good character can be more condemning than wickedness. Our virtues can be more deadly than our vices.

That’s why a Christian community which professes to be perfectly religious reeks of hypocrisy. Jerusalem said they trusted in the Messiah, God’s Savior, to save them, but really they thought they were worthy of God’s salvation—by their birthright, by their actions, by their complete dedication to the law. And we are hypocrites too when we say that we trust in Jesus’ blood to validate us before God, but then actually take comfort in our own religiousness or good character.

When we commit an obvious sin we plead, “Lord, have mercy.” But when we look at our good character, we don’t think that our case is that desperate. Our virtues prove to be more deadly than our vices. It happens, even to a pastor, that I feel better or worse depending on how well I perform. Now, it is only right to feel good and take pride in accomplishments. It is only rational to feel bad when we make a mistake. But the problem arises when we apply our feelings about our performance in temporary situations to out status before God. Because, in the end, we may successfully proving ourselves to others for our entire lives, but God sees right through to the core of our motivations. He knows if we are good to others only to stroke our reputation or mend a problem. He sees when our love is shallow, he sees when our worship is just something we were taught to do. He knows when we confess our sins with our lips and not our hearts. He knows that we need a Savior, even if sometimes we manage to deceive ourselves. The Bible teaches, that all have sinned and fallen short, terribly short, of the glory of God. No matter how good we are, we cannot prove ourselves worthy of salvation. By nature we cannot stand before a holy God. We need a Savior! And the great news is that Christianity isn’t about being good enough to validate ourselves; it’s about looking to the cross and seeing our validation hanging there.

If you read the Gospels, note how many times Jesus tells people not to say anything about his miracles, or all the times he speaks rather harshly to large crowds. At first, you may wonder why is he doing this? Doesn’t he want them to stick around? Doesn’t he want the news that he performed a miracle to be spread? But Jesus didn’t care about validating himself to people. He wanted to follow the commands of his heavenly Father and he wanted to be our Savior, not a popular prophet. That’s why he set his face like flint (Is 50:7) and continued on to Jerusalem. He knew he would be killed there but he still went. He rode his donkey through the streets as those hypocrites shouted “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.” and then shouted, “Crucify him!” less than a week later. Jesus was silent as people accused him of terrible crimes before the Sanhedrin, but he didn’t need to shout back because he didn’t need to prove himself to them. When he was suspended on the cross and people said, “If you really are the Son of God, come down and prove it.” He didn’t feel the need to validate himself; he wanted to save us. And so he took the shame, and the scars and the humiliation. He stayed on the cross and he died to forgive our sin. He died to be our Savior because he knew that we one. And Jesus longed then as he does now to gather his people together as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings. He longs to shelter us from our sin and guilt. He longs to call us his children, free from validation and free from hypocrisy.

Jerusalem was not willing to let him die for them. They trusted in themselves. Are you? Are you willing to trust in his sacrifice and not what you’ve done? Please, let Jesus’ perfection stand before God instead of your accomplishments. Let his blood be worth more than your good character. Let him die for you. Let him be your Savior.

When I look out at this congregation each Sunday I see something beautiful. I don’t see hypocrites, I see people who are at the same time sinners and yet saints because of the love of God. Perhaps against our own desires or understanding, I see that Jesus has already gathered us together as his people. He gathers us beneath the cross to forgive us. He gathers us into a family here at Eastside so that we can support and encourage each other in his love. He is a hen who gathers her chicks underneath her wings. He is our protector, our defender, and our Savior.

Amen.