"But I say to you, Do not take an oath at all"; "Let what you say be simply 'Yes' or 'No'" (Matthew 5:34, 37).

This command is repeated by Jesus' half-brother James: above all, do not swear, either by heaven or by earth or by any other oath, "let your 'yes' be yes and your 'no' be no" (a paraphrase of James 5:12).

Why such emphasis on not taking oaths? What is wrong with swearing that you will do what you say? The simple answer is that the New Covenant instruction is to avoid swearing and simply to give your "yes" or "no" to whatever is asked of you.

It has been argued that God swore oaths, many Old Testament saints swore oaths, and Paul swore oaths. Yet to say that these examples cancel the command is to put the cart before the horse.

First, the command does not apply to God, because He knows all things and has none of the limitations that make oath-taking risky for us.

Second, while Old Testament saints took oaths, we can often see the folly in what they did. Consider Joshua's rash oath to the deceptive Gibeonites (Joshua 9), or Jephthah's foolish vow to sacrifice whatever came out of his house (Judges 11). There are others like these.

Third, when we consider Paul's solemn affirmations (e.g., Romans 1:9; Galatians 1:20; 1 Thessalonians 5:27), we must remember that he was an apostle who received direct revelation from God. I believe his oaths fell within the permitted bounds because they were sanctioned by God.

Friends, there is rarely, if ever, a good reason for us to swear oaths. We can never be sure of the future, so our oaths and promises can bind us to a gamble that brings no benefit, only condemnation. Our guarantees can be presumptuous because they rest on an uncertain foundation. We have no knowledge of or power over the future, so on what basis can we promise anything? Our attitude should always be, "If the Lord wills..." And the best we can give anyone is our "yes" and "no," within the limits of what we can do.

Following Jesus, and James after Him, let us not swear at all. As much as possible, let us avoid making unconditional promises, and let us teach our children the same. In doing so we will promote a culture of honesty, and we will not stake our integrity on an uncertain future by making promises we may not be able to keep. And if others insist on an oath and you feel compelled to swear, at least clearly understand the implications and consequences of what you are doing. Consider this counsel about vows to God: when you vow a vow to God, do not delay paying it, for He has no pleasure in fools; pay what you vow; it is better not to vow than to vow and not pay; do not let your mouth lead you into sin, and do not say before the messenger that it was a mistake; for when dreams increase and words grow many, there is vanity; but God is the one you must fear (a paraphrase of Ecclesiastes 5:4–7).

AI-Expanded Reflection

Jesus' teaching on oaths in Matthew 5:33–37 was aimed at a practice of His day in which people swore by lesser things — heaven, earth, Jerusalem, their own heads — to create degrees of obligation, so that some oaths could be broken without guilt (compare Matthew 23:16–22). Jesus cut through that system: every word is spoken before God, so a disciple's plain "yes" should be as reliable as any oath. The heart of the command is truthfulness.

Christians have understood the command's practical application differently. Some traditions — Quakers, Mennonites, and others — have historically refused all oaths, including in court, and many legal systems now allow a solemn "affirmation" instead of an oath for this reason. Most other Christians have held that Jesus forbade casual, manipulative, or evasive swearing, while permitting solemn oaths in serious settings such as courts and marriage vows, noting that Jesus Himself answered under oath before the high priest (Matthew 26:63–64) and that Paul called God as his witness. Christian marriage vows, in particular, are widely understood as a proper and binding covenant promise. All agree with the comment's central point: believers should be people whose simple word can be trusted, and who promise with humility, remembering "if the Lord wills" (James 4:15).

I was so happy this morning as I read the Sermon on the Mount and could see a glimpse of the joy that King David had in his heart toward God's Law. It is truly sweeter than honey! The Beatitudes shout into my ear how important it is for us to have deep conviction of our depravity, which leads us to mourning, meekness, and hunger and thirst for righteousness, followed by manifestation of God’s character in our lives such as being merciful, absence of evil, making peace, perseverance, and so forth. God doesn't merely motivate us to be morally perfect in our deeds but demands and wills total transformation of our being! Praise be to our Lord and Savior!

AI-Expanded Reflection

The comparison with the sweetness of God’s law recalls Psalm 19:7–11, where instruction restores, gives wisdom, and enlightens. Delight there does not arise from discovering that every command is easy. It comes from recognizing the goodness of the God whose word gives life and exposes hidden faults. The psalm moves from praise of the law to prayer for cleansing and acceptable speech (Psalm 19:12–14). Joy and repentance therefore belong together rather than functioning as opposing moods.

Matthew’s Beatitudes offer a similarly searching joy. Poverty in spirit begins from need rather than self-sufficiency; mourning acknowledges a world and a life that are not as they should be. Meekness refuses to make domination the means of securing one’s future, and hunger for righteousness longs for what God calls right (Matthew 5:3–6). These qualities unsettle ordinary measures of success. The kingdom is announced to people who cannot present themselves as complete and invulnerable.

The original sees a progression from conviction to transformed conduct. That is a fruitful devotional reading, although Matthew does not explicitly present the Beatitudes as a fixed sequence of stages every believer must experience in precisely that order. Mourning, mercy, peacemaking, and hunger for righteousness can deepen together throughout life. Nor is purity of heart the same as having no remaining struggle. It concerns an integrity of allegiance that resists the divided heart, while the wider sermon still teaches disciples to ask forgiveness (Matthew 6:12).

The promises are equally important. Comfort, inheritance, satisfaction, mercy, the vision of God, and belonging as his children direct attention toward what God gives. Without these promises the Beatitudes could become another inventory of inadequacy. With them, the disciple is invited to live from a future secured by God. Some dimensions are experienced now, while the full comfort and restoration remain ahead. This helps explain how Jesus can bless people who are still mourning or being persecuted.

The transformation of being that the commenter celebrates is not detached from practical action. Mercy may involve forgiving, giving, listening, or refusing to use another’s weakness for advantage. Peacemaking may require honest confrontation and repair, rather than the avoidance of all conflict. Perseverance means continuing in righteousness when approval disappears; it does not require treating every criticism as persecution for Christ. The shape of Jesus’ own life gives content to these qualities.

Such formation is both gift and calling. A believer can ask the Spirit to change desires while also practicing the next faithful act that Scripture makes clear. The joy of God’s instruction grows as obedience is discovered to be more than constraint: it becomes participation in the life God intends for his people. That does not eliminate failure, but it changes its context. Failure can be confessed within a relationship of grace, and the pursuit of holiness becomes hopeful because the Father is committed to making his children resemble him.

Jesus' Sermon on the Mount can sometimes be very unsettling. For example, there are commands to pluck out one's eye or cut off one's hand if they cause you to sin. There are also commands to give to everyone who asks and not to refuse anyone who seeks a loan. In light of the absolute form of pronouncements like these, we presume that they should always be obeyed literally in every circumstance. But is this correct? Or are Jesus' words to be taken like the Proverbs of Solomon, as "principles stated in the extremes" (A.M. Hunter as quoted in The New Bible Dictionary, s.v. Sermon on the Mount). I lean toward this latter understanding. One of the best expositions I've discovered that brings this out is by Jim Ellis, published in Bob Deffinbaugh’s series on bible.org. Here’s the whole text of Ellis’s sermon:

The Sermon on the Mount

I. Introduction

Our lesson in this From Creation to the Cross series is Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount.354 We will be looking primarily at Matthew’s account of this discourse as given in chapters 5 through 7 of his Gospel. Now I’m sure you are all at least somewhat familiar with the Sermon on the Mount. This is probably the best known part of Jesus’ teaching, not only among Christians but among people in general. Sayings from the Sermon on the Mount have become part of our everyday language; sayings such as “do unto others” … “judge not,” “turn the other cheek,” and so on. But I would suggest it is also one of the least understood parts of our Lord’s teaching, and certainly the least obeyed. In this day and age, when we in the church seem to be looking more and more like the society around us, there may be no better medicine than the Sermon on the Mount. It describes what human life and human community look like when they come under the gracious rule of God.355 And in a word, what do they look like? Different … not the same.

It is of course impossible to address the details of the Sermon on the Mount in this one lesson. It is ambitious enough to attempt an overview. But as I thought about it, there is good reason to step back and consider the Sermon on the Mount as a whole. I do of course recommend detailed study, but if we jump into the details before we look at the whole, we are in constant danger of missing the forest for the trees. We all have a tendency to pick on certain particular statements and to concentrate on them at the expense of others. We must realize that “no part of the Sermon can be truly understood except in light of the whole.”356

The Literary Style of the Sermon – Before we proceed, I think it is worth noting the literary style of this sermon. The Sermon on the Mount has been rightly categorized as wisdom literature – in fact, it is wisdom literature in the best tradition of the Old Testament.357 It reads very much like what we might find in various places in the Book of Proverbs. This is important because, like Old Testament wisdom literature and the books of the Prophets, this passage is poetic in nature.

The Sermon on the Mount is full of the parallelism typical of Hebrew poetry. It is clearly evident in the Beatitudes as well as other places. 358 Poetic parallelism is seen virtually throughout the sermon as Jesus uses parallel thoughts to provide vivid contrasts as He teaches. We must also remember that the language of poetry is imagery.359 Poetry is designed to stir the emotions and create vivid mental pictures, not feed the intellect.

My point is this – poetic passages must be understood as poetic in nature, and we must not try to interpret them with the same inflexible literalism we might employ with prose. As one scholar has noted, “Proverbs are principles stated in extremes.”360 How tragic that someone would actually “pluck out his eye” or “cut off his hand” (5:29–30) in an attempt to control his lust, which, incidentally, has reportedly happened. So, let’s just remember that in the Sermon on the Mount we see Jesus speaking in the Old Testament wisdom form and poetic style.

II. Context and Theme

Now let’s look at the context of our passage. The events leading up to the sermon are described by Matthew in chapter 4. We will look briefly at verses 12, 17, and 23. Beginning in verse 12, we read:

Now when He heard that John had been taken into custody, He withdrew into Galilee; and leaving Nazareth, He came and settled in Capernaum, which is by the sea, in the region of Zebulun and Naphtali.

Dropping down to 4:17, we read, “From that time Jesus began to preach and say, ‘Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.’”

There are two things to notice here: First, the phrase “From that time” refers to the arrest of John the Baptist. This is apparently the event Jesus chose to launch His public ministry. Secondly, Matthew wants us to see that Jesus’ message is linked directly to John’s message (3:1–2). There is a continuity made explicit by Jesus’ use of the same phrase John had used, and we are right to see Jesus as essentially picking up where John left off.

Then in 4:23 we read,

And Jesus was going about in all Galilee, teaching in their synagogues, and proclaiming the gospel of the kingdom, and healing every kind of disease and every kind of sickness among the people.

Matthew is introducing a theme which will wind its way through the rest of his gospel. That theme is the kingdom of heaven. As you read through Matthew’s Gospel, you will see that the Sermon on the Mount is the first of five great discourses. As a way of identification, each one of these discourses is marked at its conclusion with essentially the same phrase, namely, “when Jesus had finished these words.” It occurs here at the end of the Sermon on the Mount in 7:28. You will find it again in Matthew 11:1, 13:53, 19:1, and 26:1, each time at the end of an extended discourse by Jesus to His disciples. What you should note is that in one way or another, these five discourses all deal with the same theme: the Kingdom of heaven. This was the great burden of Jesus’ teaching – and we see it particularly evident here in the Sermon on the Mount.

“Repent for the Kingdom of heaven is at hand.” If we view this proclamation as not only Matthew’s introduction to what follows but also a summary of it, then in a word, the message of the Sermon on the Mount is, “What it means to repent and belong to the kingdom of heaven.”

III. The Kingdom of God

But let’s talk for a moment about this kingdom which Matthew has introduced to us here in his gospel. As an aside, I will mention that while Matthew primarily uses the term “kingdom of heaven” and other gospel writers (notably Luke) prefer the term “kingdom of God,” it is clear that these two expressions mean exactly the same thing (e.g., compare Matthew 5:3 with Luke 6:20). In the past some have tried to maintain a distinction between the kingdom of heaven and the kingdom of God;361 however, the vast majority of theologians today recognize the terms as synonymous,362 and I therefore use the terms interchangeably.

The word translated kingdom has two elements. It refers first to the king’s reign and rule, and secondly to the king’s realm.363 The Kingdom of God, then, is primarily the reign and rule of God, the expression of His gracious sovereign will. In an ultimate sense, God sovereignly rules over all things, and His realm is therefore all creation. But that is not the kingdom in focus here. Here we are talking about the kingdom of God among men, that kingdom anticipated by the Old Testament prophets, that kingdom to be mediated through the coming Messiah. You will note that Matthew has spent the first four chapters of his gospel confirming to us that this Jesus is the Messiah, the one with the right to the throne, the coming King. As one commentator put it, with the coming of Jesus Christ “the new age had dawned, and the rule of God had broken into history.”364

This is precisely why Jesus proclaimed that the Kingdom of heaven is at hand – because Jesus Himself is the King in God’s Kingdom, and where He reigns, there the Kingdom of God is already present. To those who first heard Jesus, this was a staggering message because they understood (at least in part) what He was saying. He was preaching that the long-hoped-for day, the day of the reign of God, was no longer confined to the future – it was now. That explained the urgency of His call to repent. In light of the presence of the King Himself, repentance, and for that matter a new life altogether, was called for.

Jesus proclaimed the same Kingdom as John the Baptist (and the Old Testament prophets); however, He did in the course of progressive biblical revelation explain it more fully. He also broke it out into its temporal components, and emphasized each element separately. For example: At times, Jesus spoke of the kingdom as being present in the person of the king. This aspect was more than “at hand;” it had already arrived. We read in Matthew. 12:28, “But if I cast out demons by the Spirit of God, then the kingdom of God has come upon you.”This is Phase I. The kingdom was inaugurated by and manifested in Jesus Christ at His first coming.

At other times, Jesus spoke of the kingdom as being present in a sense broader than His own person. For example, the parables of the kingdom in Matthew 13 show us the kingdom in its “mystery” phase. The mystery is the coming of the kingdom into history in advance of its consummation.365 This is Phase II. Christ now reigns in the hearts of His people, and His rule is played out through the work of kingdom citizens during this present age. The Sermon on the Mount and other principles of kingdom living articulated by Jesus apply directly to kingdom citizens in this period between His first and second coming.

However, Jesus never ignored the final consummation of the kingdom or even the uniquely Jewish flavor of the millennial reign (see Matthew 24–25). At the Last Supper, Jesus spoke of the future consummation of the Kingdom which will be manifested at His second coming. In Matthew 26:29, we read, “But I say to you, I will not drink of this fruit of the vine from now on until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father’s kingdom.” This then is Phase III, which in turn ushers in the final eternal state.366

Therefore, recognizing that the kingdom of God was inaugurated by Christ at His first coming and that it continues today in a spiritual sense in those who are believers, let’s turn now to the Sermon itself.

IV. Overview

The Setting – We are primarily looking at Matthew’s account of the Sermon on the Mount, but we should note the parallel account in Luke 6. We don’t have time here to harmonize the accounts. Let me simply suggest that there is strong internal evidence that the two accounts are describing the same event in spite of the differences one may note.367 That is at least my assumption. We just don’t have time to get into the details.

I mention this because I want us to pause just long enough to get clear on who the audience is for Jesus’ sermon. In Matthew 5:1, we are told that He sat down and His disciples came to Him. We must not think this is referring only to the twelve – for we see in Luke 6:13 that early that morning He called His disciples to Himself and chose the twelve from among them. So there were other disciples – apparently a large number of them according to Luke 6:17. Therefore, we must understand that it was the twelve along with many other disciples who came to sit around Him.

We also see, not only from Luke’s account (6:18) but from the end of Matthew’s account (7:28), that a multitude was also there, gathered at least within hearing distance. So, to whom was Jesus speaking? You could look at it as a three-tiered audience – the twelve as His newly-appointed inner circle, the other disciples, and then, perhaps at a distance, the multitude. Even though His words were directed to His disciples (5:2) – which is indeed significant – I would suggest that He also spoke for the benefit of all.

Looking at the sermon itself, we can see four main sections: the first (5:3–16) describes the subjects of the kingdom, the second (5:17–5:48) deals with the precepts of the kingdom, the third (6:1–7:12) the righteousness of the kingdom, and the fourth (7:13–27) the tests of the kingdom.

First Section - Picture of Kingdom Citizens (5:3–16) – Every kingdom eventually has subjects, and Jesus begins His sermon by painting a picture of the kind of people who would populate His kingdom (5:3–16). Before He lists any responsibilities for them, He first wants His audience to see the character traits of kingdom citizens. He does this in what we commonly refer to as the beatitudes. We should note that the beatitudes do not refer to different groups of people as if some are merciful, others are peacemakers, and still others are called upon to endure persecution. Rather, this is a beautifully poetic way of describing the qualities of a kingdom citizen. All these qualities are to characterize each of His people.

Jesus also wants His audience to see that these qualities come with great blessing – which stands in stark contrast to that which this world can offer. What is this blessedness? The second half of each beatitude explains it. Taken together, we see that these kingdom citizens possess the kingdom of heaven, they inherit the earth, they are comforted and satisfied. They receive mercy, they see God, and they are called sons of God. All these blessings belong together. Just as the eight beatitudes describe the qualities of every citizen of the kingdom (at least in the ideal), so the eight blessings belong to each of them.

Some have taken the beatitudes (and in fact the whole sermon) as a description of what one must do in order to enter the kingdom of God. They see the beatitudes as a list of things you must do in order to receive the blessings mentioned. This could not be further from the truth. It is clear from the text that Jesus is describing the qualities and duties of those already in the kingdom. The Sermon on the Mount is not a presentation of the gospel telling one how to get saved. As Dr. S. Lewis Johnson has humorously pointed out, when the Philippian jailer asked the apostle Paul, “what must I do to be saved?” (Acts 16:30), Paul did not reply with,“Blessed are the poor in spirit for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”368 The Sermon on the Mount is not how to get into the kingdom, but how you are to be because you are in the kingdom.

So let’s be clear right here at the beginning. Jesus told Nicodemus “unless one is born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God” (Jn. 3:3). Citizens of this kingdom are those who are born again believers. Jesus Himself makes it clear that to enter this kingdom is in fact to enter salvation and eternal life.369

This section ends showing the role of the kingdom citizens in an unbelieving world. Jesus says you, as kingdom citizens, are to be “salt” and “light” (5:13–16) in such a way as to bring glory to your Father in heaven. When He says “your Father,” He is saying something that can only be true of believers, not people in general. Although in this sermon Jesus was addressing a mixed audience (believers and unbelievers), He was speaking specifically to His disciples (Matthew 5:2), and He was addressing them as true disciples, i.e., true believers.

Second Section - Precepts of the Kingdom (5:17–5:48) – After the brief exposition about the members of the kingdom, the Lord now gives truths about the nature of the kingdom itself (5:17–48). This section is characterized by the repeated phrase, “you have heard it said, … but I say.” Jesus is going to do some interpretation of the Old Testament Law for His listeners, and He prefaces this by first stating He came not to abolish, but to fulfill the Law. Then He emphasizes the fact that “not one jot or tittle of the law will pass away until all is fulfilled.” Now, He makes this clear at the outset because He knows that what He is about to say is going to shock His listeners. He wants them to listen carefully and not take what He is about to say as negating the Law in any sense.

Some have said that Jesus here contrasts the letter of the Law with the spirit of the Law. But I don’t think that’s the case. The key, I believe is the phrase “you have heard it said.” In virtually every other place where Jesus refers to the Law (or Old Testament), He uses the phrase, “It is written” (e.g., Matthew 4:4, 7, 10; 21:13, 26:31). Here He uses the phrase “You have heard.” I would suggest that this is not a contrast between the letter of the law and the spirit of the Law. This is a contrast between a perversion of the letter of the law – the oral tradition perpetuated by the scribes and Pharisees – and the true letter and true spirit of the Law. So here, in six masterful strokes, Jesus says, “you have heard it said, … but I say,”thereby rejecting the scribal interpretations of the Law.

Although Jesus essentially quotes the Old Testament in some instances, it is clear from His arguments that He is dealing with abuses of the Law encouraged by the Pharisaic tradition.

Take for example Matthew 5:38: “You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth.’” This is indeed a quote from the Law; it is stated in Exodus 21:24, Leviticus 24:19–20, and Deuteronomy 19:18–21. But two things must be noticed from the context in the Old Testament: (1) The passage in Deuteronomy makes it clear that this was a law for the civil courts; it was instruction for the Judges in Israel; it was to define appropriate justice. (2) Although the law defined justice, it also restricted retribution and prevented personal revenge. It is not unreasonable to say its primary purpose was to restrain. But the scribes and Pharisees had extended this principle from the law courts (where it belongs) to the realm of personal relationships (where it does not belong). This is not how you treat your neighbor, but that’s exactly how the Pharisees used it and abused it. It was being used as an excuse for the very thing it was meant to abolish, namely, personal revenge.

The Old Testament repeatedly forbids personal vengeance. Leviticus. 19:18: “You shall not take vengeance, nor bear any grudge against the sons of your people, but you shall love your neighbor as yourself; I am the Lord.” Proverbs 20:22: “Do not say, ‘I will repay evil;’ Wait for the Lord, and He will save you.” Proverbs 24:29: “Do not say, ‘Thus I shall do to him as he has done to me; I will render to the man according to his work.’” – All of which Jesus beautifully expressed by saying, “turn the other cheek.” The concept of “turning the other cheek” is not limited to the New Testament; it was there in the Old Testament.

With a little digging, I think you’ll find this to be the case with Jesus’ other examples – He was correcting perversions of the Law perpetrated by the religious teaching of His day – all of which, incidentally, point to an issue of the heart.

Third Section - Righteousness of the Kingdom (6:1–7:12) - The first half of chapter 6 deals with kingdom righteousness regarding, basically, our worship of God. Jesus deals with giving, praying, and fasting – although these are particular areas of Pharisaic abuse, there are plenty of applications for the church today. The principle is given at the outset in verse 1,“Beware of practicing your righteousness before men to be noticed by them; otherwise you have no reward with your Father who is in heaven.”

The second half of chapter 6 deals with righteousness regarding the intentions and ambitions of our heart. Basically, the emphasis is on our focus in life and how we expend or invest our energies. The principle here is given in verses 19–20, “Do not lay up for yourselves treasures upon earth, … But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven.”

In verses 1–12 of chapter 7, Jesus deals with righteousness in relation to how we treat others. We are not to be judgmental especially with regard to fellow believers, yet we are to exercise discernment concerning unbelievers. Jesus is not simply saying, “do not judge.” His point is that we are to judge wisely, just as the earlier principle is to invest wisely. Where does one find such wisdom? He must turn to his heavenly Father … and ask (7:7–11).

Finally, in verse 12, the intent of the Old Testament law is summarized in the golden rule: “Therefore, however you want people to treat you, so treat them, for this is the Law and the Prophets.” Jesus began His teaching on kingdom righteousness in 5:17 with, “Do not think that I came to abolish the Law or the Prophets;” and now concludes it by saying, “this is the Law and the Prophets.”

Fourth Section - Tests of the Kingdom (7:13–27) - Christ outlines three tests which will prove our righteousness is truly from God. These tests are presented as the two ways, two trees, and two builders. False Christianity will fail these tests.

First, true citizens of the kingdom of God go by the narrow way (7:13–14), which I believe speaks to the fact that Christianity is basically counter-cultural. By that I mean the society around us is going one way, the broad way, while we are to be going the narrow way, the way of Christ, e.g., by turning the other cheek, going the extra mile, putting our personal rights aside for the sake of another.

Secondly, true citizens of the kingdom are like the tree that bears good fruit (7:15–23), which refers not only to the fruit of the Spirit (Galatians 5:22–23): joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control, but to holy living (Romans 6:22) and good works (Ephesians 2:10).

And thirdly, true citizens of the kingdom build their house on the rock (7:24–27), which is Jesus Christ. Righteousness is not based on a church, a creed, or a good life, but on Jesus Christ who died for the believer.370 And here the point is that a true believer is a doer of the word and not a hearer only (James 1:22). The imagery of this section all points in one direction: the kingdom will be populated by those who live for an audience of One, namely, Jesus Christ the King.

The Sermon Concluded (7:28–29) - The sermon then concludes with a note about the crowds responding to Jesus in a way which they never did to the scribes. The crowd was “astonished at His teaching, for He taught as one having authority” (7:28–29). They were apparently more impressed with His authority than with the content of the Sermon itself. As one commentator put it, “The main question the Sermon forces upon the crowd is not so much ‘What do you make of this teaching?’ as ‘Who on earth is this teacher?’”371 – a question which the Gospel of Matthew clearly answers.

V. Concluding Remarks

Not a code of ethics - It is extremely important to remember that the Sermon on the Mount is a description of character and not a code of ethics or morals. It is not to be regarded as a law – a kind of new “Ten Commandments” or a set of rules and regulations which are to be carried out by us – but rather a description of what we as Christians are meant to be, illustrated in certain particular respects.372 Jesus is not laying down a new code of legal regulations but communicating great ethical principles and how they affect the lives of those within the kingdom. “It would be a great point gained if people would only consider that it was a Sermon, and was preached, not an act which was passed.”373

All kinds of approaches to this sermon can be found in the church. Some have seen it as a message calculated to produce the greatest possible guilt in the fewest possible chapters! It has often been presented that way: “Here is the standard. Look how miserably you have failed. Pull yourself together and do better.”

This approach ignores what we have already seen is central to the sermon’s message, namely our relationship to Jesus Christ. We cannot avoid some degree of guilt as we read Jesus’ words. Undoubtedly, as He describes the lifestyle that is appropriate to citizenship in His kingdom, we sense how far short of its glory we fall. But the sermon is not aiming to produce a sense of hopelessness and despair in us; rather, it is intended to set before us a glorious vision of what the Lord means for our lives to become. As Bob Deffinbaugh once said, “It challenges us to live an excitingly distinctive life, adding savor to our society,”374 and bringing glory to God. The sermon is Jesus’ manifesto. It describes a regal lifestyle, the new behavior pattern for the new kingdom we have entered.

A new birth is essential - The righteousness Jesus described in the Sermon is an inner righteousness. Although it manifests itself outwardly and visibly in words, deeds and relationships, yet it remains essentially a righteousness of the heart. It is what a man thinks in his heart and where he fixes his heart which really matter. It is here too that the problem lies. For men are in their nature “evil.” As we are told in Jeremiah 17:9, “the heart of man is more deceitful than all else and is desperately sick.” And it is out of the heart that evil things come. Just as it is the tree itself which determines its fruit, so it is with man. There is but one solution – make the tree good, and its fruit good. A new birth is essential.

Only a belief in the necessity and the reality of a new birth can keep us from reading the Sermon on the Mount with either foolish optimism or hopeless despair. The high standards he set are appropriate only to believers.

We could never earn citizenship in His kingdom by accomplishing Christ’s standards. Rather by living out His standards, or at least approximating them, we give evidence of what – by God’s free grace – we already are.375

Negative tests to apply - Martyn Lloyd-Jones recommended some principles which should govern our interpretation of this Sermon, suggesting that we might apply these “negative” tests as we study it: 376

(1) If you find yourself arguing with the Sermon on the Mount at any particular point, it means either that there is something wrong with you or your interpretation of the Sermon is wrong. In his own words, he said he found that test “very valuable.”

(2) If our interpretation makes any injunction appear to be ridiculous then we can be certain our interpretation is wrong. For example, in 5:40, Jesus says if you are sued for your shirt, give your coat too. This command has often been made to sound ridiculous. However, it is not to be taken as a mechanical rule. He’s not teaching how to behave if you are sued. He’s teaching a principle – I am to be of such a mind and such a spirit that under certain circumstances and conditions I must do just that – throw in the coat also, or go the extra mile. I am to be such a person that if it is God’s will and for His glory, I would readily do so. That is the issue, and it is very practical – nothing our Lord ever taught can be ridiculous.

(3) Finally, if you regard any particular injunction in this Sermon as impossible, once more your interpretation and understanding of it must be wrong. Jesus died and gave us the Holy Spirit that we might be able to live the Sermon on the Mount. We may not live it perfectly, but in the power of His Spirit we must work at living it. In 7:24, He says, “everyone who hears these words of mine and acts upon them” is wise. When giving the Great Commission, Jesus says, “make disciples, … teaching them to observe all that I commanded you” (Matthew 28:19–20); and that certainly includes the Sermon on the Mount.

Be very careful as you read the Sermon on the Mount and especially when you talk about it. If you criticize it at any point, you are really saying a great deal about yourself.

Making Jesus Lord - Living the Sermon on the Mount means, fundamentally, submitting to the authority of Jesus. It means coming to Him, taking His yoke, and learning from Him (Matthew 11:28–30). This means that we might want to dispense with the myth that we can have Christ as Savior to begin the Christian life, and then at some later stage, submit to Him as Lord or make Him Lord in our lives.

That kind of thinking reveals a profound confusion about what the New Testament teaches. For one thing, we do not “make” Jesus Savior or Lord. And further, if having Christ as our Savior means belonging to the Kingdom of God (and it certainly does), we cannot possibly live in His Kingdom without His being King and Lord.

But submitting to the authority of Jesus can be described more explicitly. He expresses His authority through His Word, the Bible.

As John Calvin put it, the Bible is the scepter by which King Jesus rules His people.377 It is in Scripture that Jesus continues to give His teaching. When we read it, study it, and seek to obey it, we hear His voice and recognize His authority (see John 10:3–5). That is why one mark of the Christian ought to be loving study of Scripture and a growing obedience to everything Christ teaches us through Scripture.

As you turn to the Sermon on the Mount, you ought to ask yourself if you have settled these issues in your own life. And you ought to pray that through hearing Christ’s voice in this sermon, you will grow in settled obedience to whatever He says to you.

353 This is the edited manuscript of a message delivered by Jim Ellis at Community Bible Chapel on February 17, 2002. Jim is a member of Community Bible Chapel and can be reached by email.

354 The title, Sermon on the Mount, is not found in the text. It is likely that the first one to call it such was Augustine, who wrote a treatise on this passage ca. 395 A.D. while still Bishop of Hippo. See Robert Guelich, The Sermon on the Mount, (Word Publishing, 1982), p. 15.

355 John R. W. Stott, The Message of the Sermon on the Mount (Inter-Varsity Press, 1978), p. 18.

356 Martyn Lloyd-Jones, Studies in the Sermon on the Mount (Eerdmans, Reprinted 1991), p. 22.

357 Gary A. Tuttle, The Sermon On The Mount: Its Wisdom Affinities And Their Relation To Its Structure, JETS 20/3 (September 1977).

358 See for example Matthew 5:19; 6:14–15; and 7:6.

359 Leland Ryken, How to Read the Bible as Literature (Zondervan Academie Books, 1984), p. 888.

360 A. M. Hunter, Design for Life, 1953, as quoted in The New Bible Dictionary, s.v. Sermon on the Mount.

361 Cf. John F. Walvoord, Matthew - Thy Kingdom Come, (Moody Press, 1974) p. 30.

362 Cf. Ed Glasscock, Matthew, Moody Gospel Commentary (Moody Press, 1997), p. 70; D. A. Carson, Matthew, Expositor's Bible Commentary, vol. 1 (Zondervan, 1995), p. 100; Gerhard Kittel and Gerhard Friedrich, Theological Dictionary of the New Testament: Abridged in One Volume, ed. Geoffrey Bromiley (Eerdmans 1985, reprinted 1992), s.v. basileia.

363 Bauer, Gingrich and Danker call the kingdom [1] “kingship, royal power, royal rule” and [2] “the territory ruled over by a king.” See Bauer, Walter, Gingrich, F. Wilbur, and Danker, Frederick W., A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature (University of Chicago Press, 1979), s.v. basileia.

364 Stott, p. 18.

365 George Eldon Ladd, A Theology of the New Testament (Eerdmans, Revised Edition, 1993), p. 91.

366 This three-phase view of the kingdom is discussed in D. Matthew Allen, The Kingdom of God in Matthew, http://bible.org/article/kingdom-matthew . For more on the kingdom of God, Ladd, pp. 54–117.

367 William Hendriksen, The Gospel of Matthew (Baker Book House, 1973), p. 260.

368 S. Lewis Johnson, The Beatitudes (1): From Poverty to Royalty, Believer’s Bible Bulletin, n.d. Lesson 9, p. 2.

369 E.g., Jesus equates entering the kingdom with entering life in Mark 9:45–47.

370 Warren Wiersbe, Wiersbe’s Expository Outlines on the New Testament (Victor Books, 1992), p. 36.

371 Stott, p. 213.

372 Lloyd-Jones, p. 28.

373 J. Denny as quoted in The New Bible Dictionary, s.v. Sermon on the Mount.

374 Bob Deffinbaugh, Highlights in the Life and Ministry of Jesus Christ, Lesson 20, Biblical Studies Foundation, www.bible.org/docs/nt/topics/l&m/toc.htm.

375 Stott, p. 29.

376 Lloyd-Jones, p. 29.

377 As quoted by Sinclair B. Ferguson, Kingdom Life in a Fallen World (NavPress, 1986), p. 21.

AI-Expanded Reflection

The sermon included in this comment offers a useful corrective to reading Jesus’ words as disconnected rules. Matthew places the discourse after the announcement of the kingdom and the description of Jesus teaching and healing (Matthew 4:17–25). The speaker is already acting with authority and bringing good news before he describes the life of discipleship. His commands belong within that relationship. The original article’s own footnote identifies the preacher as Jim Ellis, a detail confirmed on the Bible.org page, despite its location within a series associated with Bob Deffinbaugh.

The opening Beatitudes are blessings before they are demands. They announce God’s favor upon people whose condition the world may regard as unimpressive: the poor in spirit, mourners, the meek, the merciful, and those persecuted for righteousness (Matthew 5:3–12). Nevertheless, they are not merely a description of an invisible status unrelated to conduct. Peacemaking and mercy take form in relationships. The kingdom both receives the needy and forms a recognizable people. Grace and transformation therefore belong together without making transformation the purchase price of grace.

The article’s distinction between character and a mechanical code is helpful, but it must not become a distinction between inward ideals and actual obedience. Matthew ends the discourse with doing Jesus’ words, not simply admiring the kind of person they describe (Matthew 7:24–27). The Great Commission likewise includes teaching disciples to observe what Jesus commanded (Matthew 28:20). Christian character is embodied through decisions about anger, truthfulness, money, sexuality, enemies, and neighbors. An interpretation that protects one’s existing life from every costly consequence is unlikely to have heard the sermon accurately.

Recognizing hyperbole is essential for the eye-and-hand sayings (Matthew 5:29–30). Jesus is not prescribing self-mutilation. Removing an organ would not remove the desires of the heart, which the surrounding teaching identifies as morally significant. The startling image demands decisive resistance to sin. A contemporary application might require ending access to an exploitative practice, accepting accountability, or relinquishing an opportunity that repeatedly draws one into wrongdoing. Figurative language can intensify an obligation rather than weaken it.

Other sayings require their own contextual work rather than a blanket classification as poetry. The command to love enemies in Matthew 5:43–48 includes concrete prayer for persecutors. The teaching about giving, praying, and fasting in Matthew 6:1–18 exposes the pursuit of an audience’s approval. The sayings about treasure and masters confront divided allegiance (Matthew 6:19–24). It is possible to acknowledge literary artistry while still letting each unit make its particular claim. The fact that language is vivid does not mean its meaning is vague.

The relation to the law is also more complex than a simple contrast between Jesus and a uniform body of bad Jewish tradition. Some of the statements Jesus cites are genuine Torah commandments, while “hate your enemy” is not a command in Leviticus 19:18. Jesus speaks within Israel’s scriptural world and brings the law toward its intended fulfillment (Matthew 5:17–20). His critique should not be used to caricature Judaism as inherently loveless or merely external. The Old Testament already commands love of God, concern for the heart, and kindness toward an enemy’s animal (Deuteronomy 6:5; Exodus 23:4–5).

The discussion of retaliation illustrates why both continuity and distinctiveness matter. Proportionate judicial penalties restrict escalating revenge. Jesus addresses disciples who must resist letting personal injury dictate their response (Matthew 5:38–42). Christians differ over how this bears on policing, military service, and self-defense. Whatever conclusion is reached, the passage cannot be used to require a vulnerable person to remain available for abuse or to forbid seeking lawful protection for someone else. Refusing vengeance is not the same as refusing to restrain harm. The neighbor’s good must remain part of the ethical reasoning.

The Lord’s Prayer stands near the center of the sermon and provides a pattern for its life (Matthew 6:9–13). God’s name, kingdom, and will come first, while daily provision, forgiveness, and deliverance are openly requested. Disciples do not establish the kingdom by self-sufficient moral heroism. They ask the Father for what the life of obedience requires. This prayer prevents a reading of the sermon that produces either despairing self-reliance or passive admiration. Dependence itself becomes part of obedience.

The teaching about anxiety should also be distinguished from condemnation of all involuntary distress. Jesus directs attention to the Father’s care and to the limits of anxious striving (Matthew 6:25–34). He is not delivering a medical explanation of every anxiety disorder. The community shaped by these words should help provide food, companionship, and practical support rather than merely instructing distressed people to stop worrying. Seeking the kingdom includes becoming a neighbor through whom another person experiences care.

Matthew 7:1–5 confronts hypocritical judgment through the plank-and-speck image. Its goal includes being able to help a brother clearly after attending to one’s own obstruction. The following warnings about false prophets show that discernment has not been abolished (Matthew 7:15–20). But the discernment must be humbled, and the language about dogs and pigs must not become a general license to demean outsiders. The sermon’s golden rule and enemy-love remain governing commitments when difficult judgments are made.

The final warnings test the adequacy of religious appearance. Correct forms of address, dramatic claims, and hearing the sermon are not identical with doing the Father’s will (Matthew 7:21–27). At the same time, the text should not be turned into a daily demand for sinless performance before a believer may trust Christ. The New Testament places repentance, forgiveness, growth, and dependence within the life of discipleship. Jesus’ authority exposes false security while also providing the foundation on which a real life can be built.

A practical way to read the sermon is to move from the whole to a particular command and back again. Ask what picture of the Father and kingdom surrounds the saying, what self-protective habit it confronts, and what concrete act would embody it. Then examine whether the proposed act also respects the sermon’s wider commitments to truth, mercy, and the neighbor’s good. This avoids both rigid literalism and an interpretive escape from costly obedience. The result should be a community whose life makes Jesus’ gracious rule visible: people who pray, reconcile, tell the truth, share resources, protect others from harm, and love beyond the boundaries of reciprocity.

Matt 5

48 You therefore must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect.

Taking the word perfect to mean 'complete' here seems quite fitting. Otherwise you have statements like 'be good to the bad' as your father is without error.

But rather you can see something like if you are concerned for others be concerned for ALL others. Let your nature be about being concerned for others, not 'sometimes Yes' 'sometimes No,' some Yes' 'some No.'

But as Nehemiah had to participate, we are instructed in proverbs, psalms, the writings to the Corinthians, the godly do not want misfortune for their enemies, but seek their redemption, their turning to God. The Godly want goodness to happen.

Romans 2:11, God is not partial.

He does not turn off parts of himself for people, he is wholly himself in every situation. Both judging and merciful, both loving and wrathful, both requiring and graceful. He doesn't turn parts off to favor particular people, including his own son.

We are called to be this way too: as your heavenly Father.

He does not contradict himself, in him these things are executed in perfection, executed in completeness.

AI-Expanded Reflection

Matthew 5:48 concludes Jesus’ instruction to love enemies and pray for persecutors. The examples immediately before it concern the Father’s provision of sun and rain to both the righteous and the unrighteous. The original’s emphasis on completeness therefore fits the argument: disciples must not divide the field of love into people who deserve kindness and people who may be excluded from every act of goodwill. Love that merely returns affection to friends has not yet displayed the distinctive family resemblance Jesus calls for. Matthew 5:43–48 and the NET notes.

This does not make perfection mean something less morally demanding. The command reaches beyond a manageable exchange of favors toward the Father’s own character. Luke’s parallel emphasis on mercy (Luke 6:36) helps show how that likeness becomes visible. It is not an invitation to claim equality with God or sinless attainment through a change in vocabulary. It is a summons to undivided obedience in the very area where resentment wants an exemption.

The original’s insistence that God is not internally contradictory also provides a useful theological guardrail. Mercy and justice should not be treated as alternating personalities, as though God becomes loving only by temporarily suspending holiness. Yet we should not infer that humans may reproduce every divine act in the same way. Romans 12 forbids personal vengeance while entrusting judgment to God, and Romans 13 discusses distinct public responsibilities. Imitating the Father’s goodness requires attention to the role and authority actually given to us.

Love for an enemy can therefore coexist with naming wrongdoing, seeking appropriate accountability, and protecting someone from harm. It refuses the desire to make another person suffer simply because resentment finds that satisfying. It seeks a good that includes truth and repentance rather than offering sentimental approval. Praying for a persecutor may begin as a difficult act of obedience long before warm feeling follows. Jesus directs the will toward mercy without demanding that injury first become painless.

The practical question is where our goodwill stops. We may be generous within our circle yet contemptuous toward those who oppose us, or truthful with friends while feeling free to distort an adversary’s words. Completeness of love challenges those exceptions. It asks us to desire another person’s turning to God, refuse needless humiliation, and do the concrete good that is ours to do. Such love does not arise from denying evil. It arises from belonging to the Father whose goodness teaches us to respond to evil without surrendering our own conduct to it.

In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven (Matthew 5:16).

Be careful not to practice your righteousness in front of others to be seen by them. If you do, you will have no reward from your Father in heaven (Matthew 6:1).

Does Jesus contradict himself in the very same sermon? First, He says that we should do our good deeds to be seen by others. But then He says that we should not do our good deeds to be seen by others. Which is it?

There is no contradiction here, but there is a nuance of meaning that should not be missed. Notice that in both texts the focus is on the Father. In the first case we are called to do our good deeds before others, not so that they may glorify us, but so that they may "glorify our Father in heaven." In other words, we are to make a deliberate effort to direct the glory to God. This is an external and visible act that we do.

In the second case, Jesus commands almost the exact same thing but in the negative. In other words, He instructs against any move to bring attention to ourselves from others ("do not announce it with trumpets"), or even from ourselves ("do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing").

Therefore, whether we are to do good deeds to be seen by others or not to be seen by others, we've got to understand the qualifiers that Jesus gives. Yes, we are to make our good deeds visible when it is "to glorify our Father in heaven," but we ought never to do our good deeds in front of others in order to "be seen by them" (i.e. to draw praise to ourselves). We are speaking of ends and motives here.

Here's a practical example. Let's say you personally support a certain ministry like World Vision. Ideally, you shouldn't go around and tell everybody that you are giving and how much you are giving. You should keep this to yourself, seeking only God's approval and reward. However, if you are counteracting criticism by unbelievers (e.g. that believers are stingy and don't give to help the needy), you may let your giving be known, remembering to add that you are giving in keeping with the love and command of God. Also, if you are trying to encourage people on the sidelines to give to a good organization, you may let them know that you too are giving to it. Thus, on the one hand you are not seeking to get attention for yourself because you are keeping your personal giving, for the most part, private; however, you are using the example and testimony of your giving to glorify God by silencing criticism of the church by unbelievers and also encouraging fellow believers to give.

Just as an aside, the expression, "Do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing," is a beautiful picture of humility. The truly humble person is the one who serves others not realizing that is what they are doing. They are not thinking less of themselves or making themselves lowly in order to be more humble. No, they are not thinking of themselves at all. They are simply serving God by serving others. Busy obeying, the question of whether they are humble or not does not even dawn on them.

AI-Expanded Reflection

The apparent conflict between Matthew 5:16 and 6:1 is resolved by attending to the purpose of visibility. In chapter 5, others see good works and glorify the Father; in chapter 6, the practitioner seeks to become the object of their admiration. Jesus is not establishing a rule that all righteous acts must be hidden or that every public act must be announced. He is exposing a divided aim. The same outward deed can bear witness to God’s goodness or become an instrument for constructing a religious reputation.

The surrounding examples make the warning concrete. Giving, prayer, and fasting are all capable of being redirected toward an audience. The language of receiving a reward describes the sad adequacy of that result: if public recognition was the goal, recognition is what the act has obtained. The Father’s knowledge introduces a different measure. An unnoticed act is not lost, and a hidden life is not spiritually insignificant. This frees the disciple from needing every sacrifice to become part of a visible account of personal devotion.

The original’s examples of disclosed giving show why motive must be considered alongside circumstance. Public information may encourage participation, provide accountability, or explain a ministry’s work. Yet adding a sentence about God’s glory does not automatically purify self-promotion. We can use religious language to advertise humility as easily as generosity. A useful test is whether we would still welcome the good outcome if our own role remained unknown, and whether the person helped retains dignity rather than becoming evidence in our story about ourselves.

The image of one hand not knowing the other’s action is vivid hyperbole, not a prohibition on records or responsible stewardship. Its purpose is to loosen the inward habit of rehearsing generosity for self-congratulation. Humility does not require literal unawareness of what we have done; it directs attention away from the construction of a superior self and toward the good of another. Thoughtful planning, evaluation, and gratitude can coexist with that freedom.

A congregation can cultivate such freedom by honoring quiet service, avoiding competitions in visible sacrifice, and reporting shared work in ways that center its purpose. Individuals can practice giving that receives no acknowledgment and also speak publicly when genuine accountability or encouragement requires it. The decisive question is not whether someone happened to see us. It is whose honor our action seeks and whether we can entrust its ultimate value to the Father who sees what the audience cannot.

The Beatitudes and the Sermon on the Mount are both comforting and unsettling. The Beatitudes reflect God's mercy and grace — blessed are the poor in spirit, those who mourn, the meek, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, the merciful, the pure in heart (a reference to Matthew 5:3–8). But the remainder of the Sermon focuses on God's lofty, some might say unattainable, standards. Jesus says that anyone angry with a brother or sister is subject to judgment, and that contemptuous speech carries severe consequences (a reference to Matthew 5:21–22).

This seems to reflect the life of the Christian, and my own experience as well. We are constantly at odds with our nature, often surrendering to the flesh despite a sincere desire to serve God wholeheartedly. If you've been a Christian long enough, you must ultimately capitulate completely to grace. We are not good enough and never will be — and God knew this from the beginning.

AI-Expanded Reflection

The word "unsettling" is doing precise work here, and it's worth noting the Sermon's structure supports that reading rather than resisting it. The Beatitudes open by pronouncing blessing on conditions nobody would volunteer for — poverty of spirit, mourning, hunger for a righteousness one doesn't yet have — and the body of the Sermon then raises the standard past outward compliance into the territory of anger and contempt, where no one can claim a clean record. Read as a moral checklist, that produces despair. Read as a diagnosis, it produces exactly the capitulation to grace this comment describes, which appears to be the intended destination rather than an accidental byproduct of aiming too high.

Friends, someone asked me a great question about prayer from this passage:

So, after a lengthy Facebook conversation, I have a question and I wondered what your opinion is. If Matt 6:5–6 or 7 tells us how to pray, and sometimes hypocrites pray for incorrect purposes, then would not the fine line between public prayer and hypocritical prayer be its purpose? The purpose being if it served the human or if it served God? That's how I always understood it but just wanted a second opinion I guess after the Facebook conversation.

AI-Expanded Reflection

The reader brings several concerns together: Jesus' warning about praying to be seen, the legitimacy of public prayer, and the difference between persistence and empty repetition. These belong together because Matthew 6 examines the purpose of religious action. The same visible act can serve devotion or reputation. The question is therefore more searching than whether prayer happens in a room, a church, or an online conversation.

Matthew 5:16 commends visible good works that lead others to glorify the Father, while 6:1 warns against practicing righteousness in order to be seen by others. The distinction lies in the intended audience and desired praise. Public prayer is not automatically theatrical, and private prayer is not automatically sincere. The command to enter one's room removes the human spectators whose approval can become the real reward. Read Matthew 5:14–16 and 6:1–13.

Repetition requires a similar distinction. Matthew 6:7 criticizes the assumption that an abundance of words secures a hearing. Yet Matthew 26:44 says Jesus prayed again using the same words, and Luke 18:1 introduces a parable about praying without giving up. Repeating a request can express dependence; it becomes empty when language is treated as a mechanism for controlling God's attention.

These distinctions offer a way to examine actual prayer without policing every outward form. Does the prayer tell the truth before God? Does it serve the people who hear it, or use them as an audience for the speaker's piety? Does persistence rest on the Father's care, or on the belief that sufficient verbal pressure will overcome his reluctance? The question invites self-examination before judgment of someone else's motives.

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven (Matthew 5:3). What does it mean to be "poor in spirit"? It's a recognition of being entirely without merit, power, or ability before God. The truth is that everyone is, in this sense, poor in spirit — no one is righteous, not even one; no one understands, no one truly seeks God; all have turned away and become worthless together; no one does good, not even one (a paraphrase of Romans 3:10–12). But not everyone recognizes their own spiritual poverty, since many hearts have grown calloused. When the disciples asked Jesus why He spoke to the crowds in parables, He explained that the knowledge of the kingdom's secrets had been given to them but not to everyone else — those who have will be given more, and those who don't will lose even what they have; He spoke in parables specifically because, though seeing, many don't truly see, and though hearing, don't truly hear or understand, fulfilling Isaiah's description of a people whose hearts had grown calloused, whose ears were dull and eyes closed, so they wouldn't perceive, understand, and turn to be healed — but blessed were the disciples' own eyes and ears, because they did see and hear (a paraphrase of Matthew 13:10–16). The "blessed" here are specifically those whose eyes can see and ears can hear, and who can therefore recognize and acknowledge their own spiritual poverty. That recognition is itself a gift of God, the Holy Spirit's own convicting work within us — an act of mercy toward those He chooses: I'll have mercy on whom I have mercy, and compassion on whom I have compassion, so it doesn't depend on human desire or effort, but on God's mercy (a paraphrase of Romans 9:15–16). Jesus tells His disciples plainly: you didn't choose Me, but I chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit (a paraphrase of John 15:16). Paul instructs believers to continue working out their salvation with fear and trembling, since it's God who works in them both to will and to act according to His good purpose (a paraphrase of Philippians 2:12–13). This recognition of our own spiritual condition is what leads to the repentance that's the very first step into the kingdom of heaven. On our own, we can do nothing to earn God's favor. Thank You, Lord, for melting our hardened hearts!

AI-Expanded Reflection

This comment reads the recognition of one's own spiritual poverty as itself a specific, particular gift given only to those God chooses to grant it — a reading closely tied to the monergist position discussed elsewhere in this project. As with those other comments, it's worth noting that other faithful Christian traditions would affirm just as strongly that no one can recognize their spiritual poverty apart from the Holy Spirit's convicting work, while framing that work as something graciously extended to all people rather than selectively applied to a chosen few. Both readings arrive at the same practical humility this comment lands on: recognizing one's own spiritual poverty is never a personal accomplishment to take credit for, whichever framework a believer uses to explain how that recognition first became possible.

Matthew 5–7 presents Jesus's well-known Sermon on the Mount, paralleled in part by Luke 6:20–49. Here Jesus lays out the first moral principles given after the Law of Moses — where the Law was primarily concerned with earthly rewards tied to the Promised Land, Jesus directs attention here toward rewards in heaven instead. The Law's benefits were temporary; these kingdom principles carry eternal weight. Together with the teaching found throughout the New Testament epistles, these principles make up what's sometimes called the "law of Christ" — the moral framework of the New Covenant, ratified by Christ's own blood. When we trust in Jesus as Lord and Savior, we die to the old Mosaic Law and are born again into what Paul calls the "new way of the Spirit," captured in these very chapters and throughout the apostolic writings. Understanding that transition from Old to New is essential for properly interpreting and applying both Testaments. This particular passage, the Sermon on the Mount, was actually the very first Scripture I ever memorized, and I can't think of a more relevant, practical body of Scripture for a Christian to memorize. This site's Memorization section can help set up a personalized plan — choosing your translation, book, chapters, and pace, generating daily verses with the option to track your progress and review everything memorized so far.

One detail worth exploring: what does it actually mean that "you are the salt of the earth" (Matthew 5:13)? Interpreters often reach first for a dictionary definition of salt — as either a "seasoning" or a "preservative" — but that can actually mislead rather than clarify, since the immediate biblical context should shape the meaning first. Consider the parallel use of salt in Mark 9:49–50, where everyone will be "salted with fire," and believers are told to "have salt" in themselves and be at peace with each other. In that context, salt clearly relates to judgment — whether God's judgment ("salted with fire") or self-examination ("have salt in yourselves"). If salt there functions as a symbol of discernment — the capacity to recognize right from wrong — then losing "saltiness" would mean losing that discernment, which fits the question "how can you make it salty again?" perfectly: once genuine moral discernment is lost, a person can't simply restore it through their own effort. That's essentially what had happened to the Pharisees, who called the Holy Spirit's own work through Jesus the work of the devil — turning the very evidence meant to produce faith into a reason for disbelief instead, the sin Jesus called unforgivable. Fire, similarly, functions as a testing image elsewhere in Scripture — burning away what's worthless while what's genuine endures (see 1 Corinthians 3:13) — reinforcing the same idea of salt as a discerning, distinguishing agent. Returning to Matthew 5:13, then, believers aren't primarily called earth's "preservative" or its "seasoning," but its discerning conscience — showing the world, through both our words and our lives, what's actually good and pleasing to God. In that light, the "seasoning" sense of salt still has some relevance too: if the world is spiritually bland, without any real moral clarity, then Christians add a kind of distinctive flavor through moral uprightness. But if Christians lose that distinctiveness and become just as bland as everyone else, the text's warning applies directly — no longer good for anything except being thrown out and trampled underfoot. Let's not be conformed to the world in a way that costs us our distinctiveness, but be transformed by the renewing of our minds, so our lives testify to God's good, acceptable, and pleasing will (a paraphrase of Romans 12:2).

AI-Expanded Reflection

The interpretive method this comment models — checking a word's meaning against its actual biblical usage elsewhere, rather than defaulting to a modern dictionary definition — is worth naming explicitly as a transferable skill, since the same trap (importing a familiar contemporary meaning onto an ancient text) shows up constantly in popular Bible interpretation, not just with the word "salt." The specific payoff here is significant: reading "salt" as discernment rather than generic seasoning shifts the whole warning in Matthew 5:13 from a vague call to be "flavorful" or influential in some undefined sense, toward a much sharper call to maintain genuine moral clarity in a world that increasingly can't tell right from wrong on its own — a considerably higher and more specific bar than simply being pleasant or distinctive.

Friends, from time to time I come across a good exposition of a difficult passage. Here's one on Matthew 6:22–23, from Pastor John Piper — someone I've found largely faithful to God's Word, whose online ministry offers his sermons and books freely as downloadable resources.

Piper tackles the puzzling "bad eye" saying that seems to sit oddly between two more familiar passages — the call not to store up earthly treasure (Matthew 6:19–21) and the warning against serving two masters, God and money (Matthew 6:24). Piper's core insight is that the "bad eye" language in 6:22–23 isn't a separate topic at all, but the connective tissue between them, and he draws this out by comparing it to Jesus's use of nearly identical "eye" language in the Parable of the Workers in the Vineyard (Matthew 20:1–16). There, the workers who'd labored all day begrudge the landowner's generosity toward those hired at the last hour, and the landowner asks whether their eye is "bad" simply because he is good (a paraphrase of Matthew 20:15) — using "bad eye" to describe an inability to see and delight in someone else's undeserved blessing. Piper argues the same meaning applies in Matthew 6: a "bad eye" is one that can't perceive the surpassing worth of heavenly treasure over earthly treasure, and so remains enslaved to money without even recognizing it; a "good eye" is one that clearly sees heaven's treasure as infinitely more valuable, and lives accordingly. Read this way, verses 22–23 aren't a strange interruption at all — they're the hinge explaining exactly how a person moves from valuing the wrong treasure (vv. 19–21) to actually being able to serve the right master (v. 24).

AI-Expanded Reflection

What makes this reading persuasive is how precisely it resolves an otherwise genuinely odd literary placement — without the "eye" connection to the vineyard parable, verses 22–23 do read like a stray proverb dropped into the middle of a unified teaching on money. Piper's move of reaching outside the immediate passage to a separate parable using the identical, unusual idiom is a good model of the exegetical instinct that Scripture is often its own best interpreter — an unclear phrase in one place frequently gets clarified by the same phrase used unambiguously somewhere else in the same author's work.