Matthew 23:1-12 is a good checklist for our practice of religion. So many sermons are appropriate for all those Christians who are not there in church to hear them. This Gospel story and these comments are written especially for those who come to church - those of us who consider ourselves the faithful. Jesus spoke these words to his disciples. They are about the pillars of the church in his day - the scribes and Pharisees.

Rather then spend our time today giving thunder to the scribes and Pharisees (as often happens), let us see how Jesus’ words affect the practice of our religion.

Jesus says about those scribes and Pharisees: "... they preach, but do not practice. They bind heavy burdens, hard to bear, and lay them on men’s shoulders; but they themselves will not move them with their finger" (Matthew 23:3-4).

Our practice of the faith should be a help and not a burden. The scribes and Pharisees had worked out a religion based on many rules and regulations. The Ten Commandments were at the heart of it. They extended those commandments to include 613 rules!

The Commandments were simply two principles: reverence and respect. Reverence was the first three commandments and included reverence for God, for his day, and for the parents that he gave us. Respect marks the last seven commandments; respect for life, possessions, personality, good name, and one’s self. The principles were correct - reverence for God and respect for people. But, the scribes and Pharisees took these simple principles and made them a burden, a worry by making religion a thing of rules and regulations.

Far too many Christians exhibit the spirit of the Buddhists of Burma, who have a saying: "Life is divided into three parts. The first part is for pleasure, the second is for accumulation of money and goods; the third is for religion."

Now let’s check on our own presentation and practice of our faith.

Does our Christianity lift up or drag down? Are people helped by our faith, or haunted by it? Is the gospel we tell and live a threat, or a promise? Does it make Christianity a joy, or a burden? Does it threaten, or forgive? Does it have a sour face, or a smile?

If our Christianity depresses us, scares us, worries us, haunts us, it probably is not true Christian religion. The religion that Jesus presented to the disciples was one of support and comfort, peace and love, forgiveness and joy.

"It is this that made the future of Christianity," said Matthew Arnold, "its gladness, not its sorrow ... its drawing from the spiritual world a source of joy so abundant that it ran over upon the material world and transfigured it."

In one of the Reformed churches in France, in the chancel back of the pulpit there are three panels. The first is for the law, and the inscription on it is "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God" (Matthew 22:37). The second is for the gospel and the inscription upon it is the great verse from John (3:16): "God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life." The third panel is for the Psalm, and the verse written upon it is that from Psalm 118 (14): "The Lord is my strength and song, and is become my salvation." Notice that the third panel says that the Lord is not only my strength, but my song. We sometimes do not emphasize enough, in the way we practice our Christianity, the fact that God is our song. We need to sing the joy of being in Christ when we worship as we live our lives throughout the week.

Certainly how we conduct ourselves here at worship in this building puts up signs for others to see and evaluate what our religion is like. If we are to be audio-visuals of the faith when we worship, then there certainly should be some accepting, warm smiles, some hugs, warm handshakes, laughter, comforting, encouraging, loving, accepting attitudes reflected in this place while we are together.

A contemporary described the secret of Dwight L. Moody’s ministry in this manner: "I saw at once. Moody was simply bubbling over with the glory of his message. He reveled in it. His joy was contagious. Men leaped out of darkness into light and lived the Christian life from that hour."

"I might have been a minister myself," Oliver Wendell Holmes once said, "for ought I know, if a certain clergyman had not looked and talked like an undertaker."

Certainly Jesus gives good advice here - if our practice of Christianity is merely the "thou shalt nots," we just don’t have the full gospel, the entire faith at all. The positive content is what gets us through, equips us to face and deal with life day by day. Holding a grudge against a pastor, remembering some of his or her mistakes, keeping alive hurt feelings from the past within the congregation, hating other denominations, will never help us when life tumbles in upon us. Knowing all the commandments by memory and keeping the letter of the Old Testament law will not be helpful equipment for us when the rug is yanked out from under us, and we must face life alone.

Jesus says religion is not a burden, but a joy.

Another warning in this Gospel is: Beware of showing off in our practice of the faith. The religion of the Pharisees was one of ostentation. If religion is keeping rules, if you keep rules, if you keep all of them, then you can acquire an air of perfection. Jesus selected certain practices where the Pharisees were showing off. He says, "... for they make their phylacteries broad and their fringes long, and they love the place of honor at feasts and the best seats in the synagogues, and salutations in the marketplaces ..." (Matthew 23:5-7).

This business of phylacteries came from Exodus 13:9. The Jew wore it when he prayed. It was a little leather box strapped on the wrist or forehead - Scripture was written on a scroll inside the box. The Pharisee, in order to draw attention to himself, not only wore them, but made his larger than the rest to demonstrate his piety.

The tassel custom came from Numbers 15:37-41 and Deuteronomy 22:12 where God told his people to make fringes on their clothing, so they would be reminded of the Commandments. The Pharisees made them very large - so other people would see how pious they were.

The Pharisees also liked the choice seats at meals and the front seats at synagogues. (The most honored seats in those days were in the front of the church!)

The whole plan and practice of religion by these Pharisees was to call attention to themselves. Jesus says that our cause is just the opposite. We practice our faith in such a way that we are blocked out and God is glorified.

"Most men," said Thomas Erskine of Linlathen, "are so possessed by themselves that they have no vacuum into which God’s deep water may rise."

"One of the smallest packages we ever saw was a man wrapped up wholly in himself," suggests an unknown writer.

Our whole practice of discipleship, our religion, is done not to say to the world, as did the Pharisee, "Look how good I am;" but rather, "Look what a wonderful God I have!" Any religion which encourages pride and showing off and self-righteousness is not true Christianity! Jesus did not teach us that kind of Christianity.

Joseph Fort Newton, in a commentary on modern times, wrote, "When a man loses faith in God, he worships humanity; when faith in humanity fails, he worships science, as so many are trying to do today. When faith in science fails, man worships himself, and at the altar of his own idolatry, he receives a benediction of vanity. Hence the tedious egotism of our day, when men are self-centered and self-obsessed, unable to get themselves off their hands."

No doubt, all of this which Jesus condemns was started as an enthusiastic practice of the faith. Here is where it is so difficult, and we must be so very careful. There is a fine line between witnessing with enthusiasm and being so caught up with our Christ, so on fire with the good news, that we must share it, and a sort of pious, self-righteous kind of religion which calls attention to ourselves rather than to the heavenly father we are excited about.

Carlton Van Ornum tells this story. A large crowd of people gathered near an enclosure in the Franklin Park Zoo in Boston as a peacock slowly spread his great tail and displayed its stunning plummage. The great bird stood erect and noble and strutted regally. Just then an old, dun-colored duck waddled slowly from the pond and passed between the proud peacock and the admiring crowd. Enraged, the peacock drove the duck back to the water. In a moment, the beautiful bird had become ugly with fierce anger. The plain and awkward duck, having returned to its natural habitat, was no longer unbecoming. In the water it swam and dived gracefully, unaware that many eyes were watching. The people who had admired the peacock loved the duck. Each of us was reminded of the dangers of pride, and that happiness comes from just being ourselves.

So while the first part of this Gospel warns us about making religion a burden instead of a joy, the second part warns us about exhibiting that joy in such a fashion as to call attention to ourselves instead of our great God. Then comes the admonition: Don’t make religion a burden, don’t show off the faith, do be a servant. He had said it already in Matthew 18:4 and Matthew 20:26. Jesus says here, "He who is greatest among you shall be your servant; whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted" (Matthew 23:12).

As the Christian judges things, not keeping the religious rules or showing off your piety, but serving your fellow humans is real greatness. The world may claim that greatness is in commanding others to do things for us, but we claim it is in serving other people. Instinctively the world has accepted these standards. The world will respect, admire, and even fear the person with power - but it will love the person who serves.

Ask yourself who is really great and loved by people: it is the pastor who works among his people, the doctor who will help the sick any time, the employer who will take an interest in his employees, the person you can go to for help and never make you feel a nuisance.

Christianity isn’t in shouting to the world "what a great Christian I am," or judging others or condemning them in a self-righteous attitude; but it is in helping our fellow humans. That’s what greatness really is.

William Barclay writes in his Daily Study Bible, "When that great modern saint Kagawa first came into contact with Christianity, he felt its fascination, until one day the cry burst from him: ‘Oh, God, make me like Christ.’ To be like Christ, he went to live in the slums, and when he himself was suffering from tuberculosis. Cecil Northcott in Famous Life Decisions tells what Kagawa did. He went to live in a six-by-six foot hut in a Tokyo slum. On his first night he was asked to share his bed with a man suffering from a contagious itch - he welcomed his bedfellow. Then a beggar asked for his shirt and got it. The next day he was back for Kagawa’s coat and trousers and got them, too. The slum dwellers laughed at him, but they came to respect him. He stood in the driving rain to preach, coughing all the time. ‘God is love,’ he shouted. ‘God is love. Where love is, there is God.’ He often fell down exhausted, and rough men of the slums carried him gently back to his hut.

"Kagawa himself wrote, ‘God dwells among the lowliest of men. He sits on the dustheap among the prison convicts. He stands with the juvenile delinquents. He is there with the beggars. He is among the sick, he stands with the unemployed. Therefore, let him who would meet God visit a prison cell before going to the temple. Before he goes to church, let him visit the hospital. Before he reads the Bible, let him help the beggar."

Therein lies greatness. The world may judge a person’s greatness by his bank account, or the people he controls, or his academic credentials, or the material possessions he has gathered. But, Jesus asks, "How many people have you helped?"

If we want to practice genuine Christianity, we will serve our fellow humans, not show off our religion, and present the faith as a joy and not a burden.