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Matthew 6:1-4 · Giving to the Needy
Hypocrites
Matthew 6:1-4
Sermon
by Brett Blair
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It is difficult to find anyone who has a kind word to say about hypocrites. Nobody likes a hypocrite; no one wants to be around one; the last thing one would want to be called is a hypocrite. Hypocrites are, by definition, deceptive, two-faced and treacherous. If discovered, hypocritical politicians are defeated at the polls, hypocritical friends get dropped and hypocritical preachers lose the trusting ears of their congregations.

It may well be that our age is particularly tough on hypocrisy. In some ways, it is our one remaining public sin. We can tolerate embezzlement, infidelity, brawling and addiction in our public figures, but not pretense and hypocrisy. Presidential press conferences are scrutinized not only for major policy shifts but also for flickers of insincerity passing across the President's face, for the subtle twitch of an eyelid, and the vocal cadence of insincerity. To this day I believe that Al Gore lost the presidential election, not because of a Florida recount, or Ralph Nadar taking 3% of the votes away, but because of that one stunt in the second debate when Governor Bush was speaking and Gore got off his stool and walked toward center stage, toward Bush, like he wanted Bush to sit down because he had something more important to say. It was arrogant. And because he was the Vice President it made him look all the more hypocritical. No one has the right to do that, not even a VP.

Several years ago, when a well-known television evangelist was caught in a seedy, day-rate motel, it was not so much the deed itself that brought him down but the fact that his moral posturing, his wrenching, tear-stained appeals for understanding and forgiveness, did not ring true in our ears. In short, he committed the unpardonable sin, the sin against the human spirit, the sin of trying to pull an emotional fast one -- the sin of hypocrisy. When we see this kind of hypocrisy we say, "Father, do not forgive him, for he knows full well what he's doing."

The specific problem with religious hypocrites is that they are not only "holier-than-thou"; they are also "holier-than-themselves." They are really just as sinful as the secular types who have partied like jackals on Saturday, slept late and then pondered what sort of toppings should go on the Domino's pizza during halftime of the football game. In fact, I consider those who stay at home on Sunday as actually morally superior to the hypocrites who drag themselves out of bed and show up for Sunday school. At least they aren't wearing a pious mask and living a lie.

Jesus does not tolerate hypocrites, and neither do we. But before we assume that Jesus fully shares our views on hypocrites, we should look again, and more closely, at what he says. To be sure, the hypocrites that Jesus takes on are religious people, church people—or synagogue people to be precise—who actually put their faith into practice. They are people of charity, people of prayer, people of action. They are numbered among those who fill out their pledge cards, volunteer to keep the nursery, serve on committees, spearhead the social action task force and show up for church retreats.

In sum, in order to qualify in Jesus' book as a hypocrite one has to be what every church wants and needs -- an active member, indeed an energetic leader. The other qualification is to let it be well known. You contribute but you demand a brass plague. You pray but it’s a sweetly pious language. You build for Habitat for Humanity, but everyone knows it, they heard it from you.

Why is Jesus so harsh on hypocrites? To destroy them? No. To redeem them. To reclaim, not to destroy. Underneath the reproach is the promise that God desires to draw near in mercy and redemption. Hypocrites are not on the wrong road they have rather lost their destination.

There is an old Hasidic tale about three pious Jews who decided to travel to a distant city to spend the high holy days with a famous rabbi. They set out on their journey, without food or money, intending to walk the entire way.

Several days into the journey, weak from hunger and still a long way from their destination, they knew they had made a mistake and they must do something. They came up with a plan. They decided that one of them would disguise himself as a rabbi. That way, when they came to the next village, the people would offer them food, honored to have a rabbi visit their town. None of the three, being pious, wished to be the deceitful one, so they drew straws, and the unlucky one who drew the short straw had to don the clothing of a rabbi. Another dressed as his assistant.

When they drew near to the next village, they were greeted with excited cries of joy, "A rebbe is coming! A rebbe is coming!" Escorted with great ceremony to the local inn, the hungry threesome were treated to a sumptuous meal.

When the meal was done, however, the innkeeper approached the "rabbi" and spoke with great sorrow. "Rebbe, you must pray for my son," he said. "He is dying and the doctors have given up hope. But the Holy One, blessed be his name, may respond to your prayers."

The counterfeit rabbi looked desperately to his friends for help. They motioned for him to go with the innkeeper to his son's bedside. They had begun this hypocritical ruse, and now there was no choice but to keep on playing the game. The mock rabbi accompanied the distraught father to his son's sick bed. That night, the three travelers slept fitfully. They were eager to leave town before their deception was discovered. In the morning, the innkeeper, still hoping for a miracle and grateful for the prayer of this visiting "rabbi," sent the party off with the loan of a carriage and a team of horses.

They left the village and traveled to the great city where they spent magnificent holy days under the spell of the famous rabbi. His teaching of the Torah carried their spirits to the very vault of heaven. But too soon, the holy days were at an end, and the three companions had to go back home through the same village to return the borrowed carriage and horses. Terrified, the mock rabbi resumed his disguise; his heart was in his throat as they approached the village, especially when he saw the innkeeper running toward them, waving his arms furiously. But to the pretender's delight and surprise, the innkeeper embraced him with joy, exclaiming, "Thank you, rebbe. Only one hour after you left our village, my son arose from his bed well and strong. The doctors are amazed, but my son lives, and I am grateful for your faithful prayer."

The two companions looked with astonishment at their phony "rabbi" companion. What had happened? Had his prayer healed the boy? Was he truly a rabbi all along, without telling them? When they were alone, they turned on him with their questions. "What had he done at that boy's death bed?" they demanded to know. He replied that he had stood at the boy's side in silence and, then, began to lift his thoughts to heaven: "Master of the universe, please; this father and son should not be punished just because they think I'm a rabbi. What am I? I am nothing! A pretender! If this child dies, his father will think a rabbi can do nothing. So, Master of the universe, not because of me, but because of this father and his faith, can it hurt that his son would be healed?"

The Hasadim tell this story because of its profound insight into all of us. We are all pretenders, hypocrites. None of us is so worthy as to merit God's favor; our religion is a mask we hide behind. But God is gracious and redemptive in spite of our pretense. Perhaps, then, Jesus reprimands the hypocrites because a sharply pointed rebuke can poke a hole in the hypocrite's facade, allowing just enough light of the gospel to stream through with the news that every human being longs to hear: that when the applause of the admiring crowd dies out and the theater stands dark and empty and the pretender in all of us removes the mask and stands there, like the false rabbi in the old tale, all alone, there is still God -- God who knows our conduct grades, God who sees in secret, God who will redeem and beckon us to come just as we are. Amen.

ChristianGlobe Network, Collected Sermons, by Brett Blair