But as he spoke, a certain Pharisee asked him that he would dine with him; and entering in he placed himself at table.
A Pharisee breaks into the Lord's teaching with an invitation to a meal, and He accepts on the spot. What looks like ordinary hospitality becomes the room where the host's religion is weighed and exposed.
Luke shows the Lord at other people's tables again and again. There is a reason behind the pattern.
As a man among men, we often read of Him as a guest. He was the guest of Pharisees, then of tax collectors, and also of Martha the sister of Lazarus (Luke 5:29; 7:36; 10:38; 11:37; 14:1; 19:5). He was on earth in grace to give out grace. So He did not keep Himself at a distance from people, at least in the earlier part of His ministry. He accepted the hospitality offered Him, whoever offered it. And as the Great Physician, He always gave out under His host's roof what the occasion needed.
The word translated "dine" points to a specific meal, not the evening one.
"Dine." The word here is ariston, the midday meal (breakfast, lunch): see Acts 10:9 and following. For the deipnon (dinner, supper), see chapter 14.
His acceptance was not selective, and it was not about His own comfort.
He goes at once. He does not pick what pleases Himself. He entered the house of a tax collector and refused none of the company there. In the same way, He does not refuse to sit down at the table with a Pharisee. In the tax collector's house, the wonder was how He could eat with sinners. With the Pharisee, the wonder now is that He did not first wash before dinner. Such was their religion.
The politeness of the invitation did not decide how the Lord would read the man. He weighed the act itself.
Courtesy is the best ingredient in social life in this world. Even so, it must not twist His taste or judgment. The polite invitation to dinner was never going to settle the judgment of Him who carried the weights and measures of God's sanctuary... The invitation covered a purpose. As soon as the Lord entered the house, the host acts the Pharisee, and not the host. He marvels that his guest had not washed before dinner. And the character he takes up at the beginning shows itself in full force at the end... Flattery could not talk Him out of a just judgment. He exposes and rebukes, and the end of the scene justifies Him.
Set this meal beside the earlier one in Luke 7. The Lord's tone is not the same.
The Pharisee of this chapter was courteous like the others, and the Lord accepted it. He was the social Son of Man, and came eating and drinking. But He was judging all the time... He discerned what was underneath the flattery — a hypocritical hostility to Christ... You will not find that He treats Simon, in Luke 7, in the same way. He knew there was a different pulse in him. So there was no stern rebuke that shut down all reply, but, "Come, let us reason together." "Simon, I have something to say to you." Do not blunder your way through society. Carry the balances of God with you. So did the Lord.
The host's surprise said more about him than about his guest.
Yet the truth, on the face of things, is that washing is for those who are unclean: He who was pure and holy did not need it. The Pharisee therefore condemns himself twice over. There is a vague awareness that he needed cleansing. He also shows his blindness to the personal glory of the Lord Jesus. Here was the only One who needed nothing from outside — the Holy One of Israel, the Holy One of God.
What began as a meal became a weighing of the whole nation's religion.
Invited to the Pharisee's house, He judges the condition of the nation and the hypocrisy of its pretended righteousness. He puts His finger on the whitewashed show, and on the inward greed and self-seeking. They made God's law burdensome to others, while they neglected to fulfil it themselves... The Lord's words only stirred up the malice of the Pharisees, who sought to trap Him in His talk.
- Invited — again and again in Luke He is a guest, of Pharisees and tax collectors alike. He came in grace to give out grace.
- Entered — He goes at once, choosing nothing to please Himself, refusing no host and no company.
- Weighed — the courtesy of the invitation never bought His judgment. He carried the weights and measures of God's sanctuary into the room.
- Exposed — his surprise at unwashed hands condemned him twice. He half-sensed his own need of cleansing, and he was blind to the One who needed none.
- Discerned — not every Pharisee met the same tone. The Lord reasoned with Simon in Luke 7, and rebuked this host. Carry the balances of God, as He did.
But the Pharisee seeing [it] wondered that he had not first washed before dinner.
A Pharisee asks Jesus to dinner, and Jesus goes in and sits down just as He is. Before anyone speaks a word, the host is shocked — not by what the Lord said, but by what He did not do.
The Lord accepted the invitation and went in. But sitting at a man's table never dulled His reading of the man.
This Pharisee was polite, like the others, and the Lord accepted his welcome. He was the social Son of man, and came eating and drinking. But He was judging all the time. The Pharisee wondered that He "did not first wash before dinner." The Lord answers him, and goes on rebuking him from the heart, verse after verse, to the end. I would have wondered at such rebukes after so simple a remark — but wait a little. No harsh word and no hard dealing will ever cross your path that He is not able to justify.
The washing in question was never about hygiene. It was a ritual, and the fear behind it was contamination by contact.
In His reply to the Pharisees, the Lord did not rule on whether their practices were lawful. He showed instead that they had given the rite of washing a spiritual meaning and value it never had. The principle they claimed was not about physical cleanliness for health reasons. It was about ceremonial pollution. "They did not shrink from dirt, but from defilement." They thought they might have touched a Gentile or a tax collector on the public roads. They might have handled something ritually unclean. Strangers' lips might have touched their cups.
The word Luke uses here for "wash" is the same verb used elsewhere for ritual washings. It points to a ceremonial cleansing of the person, and differs from the ordinary words for washing hands, feet, or clothes (C E Stuart).
The one thing the Pharisee never asked was whether his Guest had anything to wash off.
When He went into the tax collector's house, the wonder was how He could eat with sinners. The wonder with the Pharisee now is that He "did not first wash before dinner." Such was their religion. Yet the plain truth is that washing is for those who are unclean. He Who was pure and holy did not need it. So the Pharisee condemns himself twice over. He shows a dim awareness that he himself needed cleansing. He also shows that he is blind to the personal glory of the Lord Jesus. Jesus was the only One Who needed nothing from outside — the Holy One of Israel, the Holy One of God.
Something the host chose to do drew out the Lord's reply.
The Lord's answer reaches past the washing to the mistake underneath it, and puts something simple in its place.
To the Pharisee, the Lord's words condemn self-righteousness, the trait that marked the Pharisees most. Their religion failed because it was all outward, as if God had made the body and not the soul — the form, without breathing the spirit into it. That bred a fussy strictness. Instead of it, let them only be ready to give to the needs of others, and everything else would be clean to them.
One writer sets this dinner inside a larger pattern of resistance to Christ.
Mere formal observance is a serious evil. Someone may claim spiritual understanding while the light of God's truth has never reached his heart, and may stress outward forms of religious observance. That person is opposing God. This is the third form of opposition to the grace of the Lord Jesus — that of legal formality.
- Contact. The washing was about ceremonial pollution, not dirt. The fear was contact with a Gentile, a tax collector, or a stranger's lips.
- Cleanness. Washing is for the unclean. The Guest who needed nothing from outside was the one clean person at that table.
- Blindness. By wondering at a missing ritual, the host admitted his own need of cleansing. He also missed the glory of the One he had invited.
- Cause. The error was all outward — treating God as though He made the form and never breathed in the spirit. The cure was plain: give to the needs of others, and everything else is clean.
- Consequence. Stressing outward forms while the heart stays dark is not harmless religion. It is opposition to the grace of Christ.
But the Lord said to him, Now do ye Pharisees cleanse the outside of the cup and of the dish, but your inward [parts] are full of plunder and wickedness.
A Pharisee invites the Lord to dinner and is shocked that He eats without the ritual hand-washing first. Jesus turns the question of cleansing back on the Pharisees and moves it from the hands to the heart.
The Lord has just spoken about light and how people receive it. What follows at the table is not a debate about hygiene but an exposure.
Suppose the people would not receive the light for their own blessing. Even then, the Lord would turn the searchlight of truth on their state. He began with the Pharisees, and the rest of the chapter gives us His indictment of them. The Pharisee who invited Him was true to type: a critic, obsessed with ceremonial details. The hour had struck for the critic to be criticized and exposed. Nothing could be more trenchant than the Lord's words. As we read them we may form some idea of how men will be searched in the day of judgment.
The host's surprise gave away more than he knew.
When He went into the tax collector's house, the wonder was how He could eat with sinners. The wonder with the Pharisee now is that He had not washed first, before dinner. Such was their religion. Yet the truth, on the face of it, is that washing is for those who are unclean: He who was pure and holy did not need it. So the Pharisee condemns himself twice over. There is a vague awareness that he needed cleansing. He also shows his blindness to the personal glory of the Lord Jesus. Jesus is the only One who needed nothing from outside — the Holy One of Israel, the Holy One of God.
The cup and the dish make the picture exact.
Their hypocrisy is the point of verses 39-41. Showy cleanliness where the eyes of men reach, filthiness where they do not. And beyond that, fierce self-seeking lay under their apparent piety. They were full of "ravening" or "plunder." The word "give" in verse 41 stands in contrast to this. What if they became givers instead of plundering other people? Then all things would be clean to them, inside as well as outside. Such a radical change as that would mean true conversion.
The Lord names two evils inside them. One concerns other people; the other concerns God.
It was tragically true of the Pharisees in general. They were eager to clean the outside of the cup and platter. Inside, they held thoughts of cruelty and greed toward the people, and of wickedness toward God.
Their reputation did not shield them.
They had the highest reputation among the people. Yet the Lord calls them fools. What His word condemns now, His judgment will act on later. The judgment of God is always according to the word of God.
Their whole system treats God as if He made only surfaces.
To the Pharisee the Lord's words denounce the self-righteousness that was their most obvious feature. It failed by being all outside. It was as if God had made the body but not the soul — the form, without ever breathing the spirit into it. This produced excessive fussiness. Instead, let them be ready to give to the needs of others, and everything else would be clean to them.
The danger did not die with the Pharisees.
This kind of thing has always been a great snare to the professed people of God. It came to a head in the Pharisees when our Lord was on earth. He aimed His most searching words of condemnation at such people. It is very common today... Let every reader of these lines, and the writer too, beware of it. Spiritual pretension is a special snare to those who are well taught in the things of God. They know the right and fitting and even beautiful thing to say. They may claim much without any heart or reality in it.
- Outside — They kept clean where people can see and filthy where they cannot. The cup shines; the contents rot.
- Inside — Greed and wickedness meant cruelty and grasping toward people, and wickedness toward God. All of it hid under a high reputation.
- Folly — Caring only for the outside treats God as if He made the form and never breathed in the spirit. The Maker of the outside made the inside too.
- Cure — The opposite of plundering is giving. Such a change would mean true conversion.
- Us — Spiritual pretension traps those who know the right and beautiful thing to say. They can claim it all with no heart in it.
Fools, has not he who has made the outside made the inside also?
At a Pharisee's dinner table, the Lord answers His host's surprise at unwashed hands by turning the subject from dishes to hearts. His question points back to the truth His host had forgotten: the same God made the outside and the inside.
The Lord accepted the invitation and sat down without the customary washing, and His host was startled. Commentators note that the host's surprise exposed him twice over.
When He went into the tax collector's house, people wondered how He could eat with sinners. With the Pharisee, the wonder is that He did not first wash before dinner. That was their religion. Yet the plain truth is that washing is for people who are unclean. He was pure and holy, so He did not need it. The Pharisee therefore condemns himself twice over. He shows a vague sense that he himself needed cleansing. He shows too his blindness to the personal glory of the Lord Jesus, the only One Who needed nothing from outside Himself — the Holy One of Israel, the Holy One of God.
The word "fools" is not anger. It names a failure to think.
It was sadly true of the Pharisees as a whole that they worked hard to clean the outside of the cup and the dish. Inside, their thoughts were cruel and greedy toward the people, and wicked toward God. They were foolish, and blind because they chose to be. They did not consider that the God who made the outward form of things also made what is inside, and that He saw every inner motive. Yet they thought that giving to the poor would wash away every moral evil.
Their practice implied a strange doctrine of creation. Writers put the absurdity sharply: their religion behaved as though God's workmanship stopped at the skin.
To the Pharisee, the Lord's words condemn the self-righteousness that was their leading trait. It failed because it stayed on the outside, as if God had made the body and not the soul — the form, but had not breathed the spirit into it. Instead of the fussy care this bred, let them simply be ready to give to others in need, and everything else would be clean to them.
This is not the fault of one group in one time. Outward religion attracts because it is easy and it shows.
Outward things are easy to do. Man likes to make his religion out of them, because they do not need a pure heart. He likes to do them, to lift himself up, and to set himself apart from other people by doing them. Through them he boasts of great godliness before other men, and wins a great reputation for it. But he can be bad at the same time. These outward acts do not bring him into the presence of God, who searches the heart. By such acts a man is religious without having holiness, and he finds that this suits him. Pharisees are not found only in our Lord's time. They are found in every age.
Being called a fool by Jesus while the crowds called them holy is not a small thing. His words today are the standard of His judgment tomorrow.
They had the highest reputation among the people, yet the Lord calls them fools. What His Word blames now, His judgment will act on later. God always judges according to His own Word. What His Word condemns now, the Lord Jesus will condemn when He takes the throne of judgment. But the same God made both the outside and the inside. They had forgotten Him. They cared only about what men could see. The Lord looks on the heart.
The next verse gives the cure, and it is not more scrubbing. It reverses the greed that filled the inside.
Their hypocrisy is the point of verses 39-41. Showy cleanness where the eyes of men reach, filth where they do not. On top of that, a fierce self-seeking lay under their apparent godliness. They were full of "plunder." The word "give" in verse 41 stands in contrast with this. If only they became givers instead of plundering other people, all things would be clean to them, inside as well as outside. So deep a change would mean true conversion.
- One Maker. God formed the outside and the inside. A religion that polishes only what people can see acts as if He made the body and not the soul.
- One folly. They had the highest reputation among the people, yet He called them fools. They forgot the One who made both and looks on the heart.
- One appeal. Washing is for the unclean. The host's surprise showed a vague sense of his own need, and blindness to the One who needed no cleansing.
- One attraction. Outward acts are easy and they win a reputation. They never bring a man into the presence of the God who searches the heart.
- One cure. Not more scrubbing, but becoming a giver instead of a plunderer. That change goes deep enough to mean true conversion, and then all things are clean.
But rather give alms of what ye have, and behold, all things are clean to you.
The Lord is eating at a Pharisee's table, and His host is amazed that He sat down without the ritual hand-washing. Verse 41 is His answer — stop scrubbing the outside and give — but what are the "things that are within," and how could giving make everything clean?
The complaint about unwashed hands exposed the host more than the guest.
When He went into the tax collector's house, the wonder was how He could eat with sinners. The wonder with the Pharisee now is "that He had not first washed before dinner." Such was their religion. Yet the truth, on the face of things, is that washing is for those who are unclean: He who was pure and holy did not need it. So the Pharisee condemns himself twice over. There is a vague awareness that he needed cleansing. He also shows his blindness to the personal glory of the Lord Jesus, the only One who needed nothing from outside.
The Lord calls them fools, and the reason is His own creatorship of what no one sees.
Their self-righteousness failed because it was all outward. It was as if God had made the body and not the soul — the form, but had not breathed the spirit into it. Instead of the excessive fussiness this produced, let them only be ready to give to the needs of others, and everything else would be clean to them.
Their outward polish covered a habit of taking from other people.
Their hypocrisy is the point of verses 39-41. Showy cleanliness where the eyes of men reach, filthiness where they do not. And more than that, fierce self-seeking lay under their apparent piety. They were full of "ravening," or plunder. The word "give" in verse 41 is set against this. If only they became givers instead of plundering other people, everything would be clean to them, inside as well as outside. Such a radical change as that would mean real conversion.
The Greek phrase behind "the things that are within" has been read in more than one way, and commentators differ.
"What you have" — the Greek word enonta — is how Godet and Bishop Basil Jones take it. Wordsworth explains it as "hearts." The Revised Version text makes the word mean souls; its margin takes it as the contents of the cups.
The older translation read "give alms of such things as ye have." The ESV takes the other line: "those things that are within." Either way the practical point holds. Let what is inside come out to others in need.
Some read the verse as though charity could buy pardon. The Pharisees assumed the same.
They were foolish and willingly blind. They did not consider that the God who made the outward form of things also made what was inward. He saw every inward motive. Yet they thought the giving of alms would wash away every moral evil.
Later teachers put the same idea into plainer words, and this writer answers them:
The way of salvation was sadly clouded by statements like these: "By prayer, the mercy of God is sought; by fasting, the desires of the flesh are quenched; by almsgiving, our sins are paid for." Sad, that anyone could be called a champion of the truth who could put out errors like these!
The Lord's command struck this group at its weakest point.
The Lord Jesus tells them instead to "give alms of what you have: and behold, all things are clean to you." He knew well that this was the last thing a Pharisee would do. Intense selfishness marked the whole party. They were faithless and greedy. They despised the One God gave; what they had they kept for themselves. So all things were unclean to them.
Something must first change a heart that is closed in on itself:
It is only in the presence of God, only as we take in His love, that our hearts grow large... We are no longer cramped, able to think only of ourselves. We come out as givers, like God in this famine-stricken world.
- Inside made — God formed the hidden part as well as the visible one. Religion that polishes only the outside treats Him as the maker of the body but not the soul.
- Inside full — plunder and wickedness filled these men. Their careful washing sat on top of greed.
- Inside given — "give" is the reverse of "plunder." The Lord asks for the one thing selfishness holds back.
- Inside clean — such a change would mean real conversion, not a fee paid. Commentators call the idea that alms cancel sins a serious error.
- Inside enlarged — time in God's love makes a person a giver. Giving is the proof of a clean heart, never the price of one.
But woe unto you, Pharisees, for ye pay tithes of mint and rue and every herb, and pass by the judgment and the love of God these ye ought to have done, and not have left those aside.
Jesus is eating at a Pharisee's table, and He turns on the religious leaders with a run of woes. The first falls on men who tithed garden herbs while the great duties of the law slid past — so what did they miss, and why does He still tell them to tithe?
This rebuke does not stand alone. Jesus aims woe after woe at the Pharisees and the lawyers eating with Him.
Six Woes. — And now, at that Pharisee's festive table, the Lord spoke about the hollow profession of both Pharisees and lawyers. Three woes were aimed especially at the former, and three at the latter. The former, precise and showy in performing small duties, neglected the weightier matters of judgment and the love of God (v. 42). To give tithes was right, but judgment (see Psalm 37:30-31) and the love of God should not be overlooked.
Mint and rue cost almost nothing. So why did the Pharisees make so much of them?
It was really the same root of self, fallen human nature under a religious veil. Why did they seek to be marked out from others in this way? Others gave tithes honestly due to God; the Pharisees seized on the tiniest points, which did not cost much, and gave themselves credit in the eyes of men no wiser than themselves, but they slighted judgment and the love of God. Righteousness is a proper sense of our relationship to God and to man; of this they had no adequate measure before them at all. The love of God was the last thing that came before their hearts or out of them.
Older translations read "judgment" where the ESV has "justice." It means honest discernment of good and evil. And the love they passed by is the same love that gave them the law.
The Lord pronounced a solemn woe on the Pharisees, for they were strictly careful to tithe the smallest things, extremely meticulous in certain details, while ignoring honest judgment of good and evil, and ignoring the love of God. In fact it was God's love that gave the law in the first place, to reach men's consciences and hearts through their inability to keep it.
Jesus could have told them to drop the herb tithes. He does the opposite. The small duties stay, but they must not crowd out the large ones.
Honest self-judgment and appreciation of the love of God were the two matters they should have positively regarded, while not leaving the other matters undone — that is, neither making small things an issue nor ignoring them.
Why is this swap so common? The flesh can manage outward acts. It cannot produce a pure heart.
The first ground of condemnation is putting outward washings and services, which the flesh can perform, in place of purity of heart and the spirit of love: where these last are present, external things are clean. So money fills the heart where there is only a religious form, because money stands for the world; and wanting to be first is another expression of the same thing.
Another writer traces the failure to a false picture of God Himself:
This failed in its externalism, as if God had made the body and not the soul — the form, but had not breathed the spirit into it.
Hole sees the same failure wherever religion is only outward form.
Verse 42 points out their distorted judgment. They specialised in things that were neither important nor costly, and ignored things of the greatest weight… A terrible charge indeed, but one that sadly applies in varying measure at all times to those who represent a merely outward and ceremonial religion.
- Weight — The charge is misweighing, not miscounting. They kept the duties that cost little and ignored the ones that carry the greatest weight.
- Cost — Herb tithes were cheap and easy to see. Self-love picks the duties that win credit from others, under a religious veil.
- Judgment — The first thing they passed by was honest discernment of good and evil. Kelly calls it a proper sense of our relationship to God and to man.
- Love — The second was the love of God. That love gave the law in the first place. Yet it was the last thing to come out of their hearts.
- Both — Christ's remedy keeps both halves. Do not make small things an issue, and do not ignore them. Outward acts the flesh can perform must never replace purity of heart.
Woe unto you, Pharisees, for ye love the first seat in the synagogues and salutations in the market-places.
Jesus is at a Pharisee's dinner table. Instead of polite talk, He speaks a series of woes over the religious leaders there. This one is not aimed at what they did but at what they loved. Why should a taste for the best seat and a public greeting draw so solemn a word?
The woe just before this one exposed a petty religion. This one moves to different ground.
But it was not merely this God-dishonouring pettiness. "Woe to you Pharisees! For you love the best seat in the synagogues and greetings in the marketplaces." Now we come to something else. It is not so much their personal conduct, or their claim to the strictest conscience, but their love of a public name for holiness and of honour in the religious world.
The verse names two settings. One writer shows the same appetite reaching into a third.
He exposed their love of notice and prominence. All was for the eye of men. At feasts — the social circle — in synagogues — the religious circle — in markets — the business circle — they wanted the chief place as Rabbis and Masters. The disciple of Christ is to be the exact opposite of all this, so let us take it to heart. The bringing low of such men is only a matter of time.
Wanting a good seat sounds like a small fault. One writer names the motive under it, and then names what was missing.
To impress men, the scribes and Pharisees loved the prominent places at feasts and the chief seats in the synagogue. Of course this is nothing but immature vanity, a childish desire to be noticed. Their love of being greeted in public places, and of being called "Rabbi," which means 'Teacher,' is just the same. The teaching of the law should humble those who are taught, but the Pharisees used it for their own self-exaltation.
The Lord reproved them for their outward show before men, with no concern for their inward relationship to God.
This is more than bad manners. A taste for human praise blocks faith itself. One writer explains why, commenting on John 5:44.
John 5:44. Their own low moral condition made it impossible for them to believe in Christ and receive the truth. Seeking honour and esteem from men kept them from taking the lowly place. It kept them from owning their true condition as sinners, and so from receiving blessing and honour from God.
This love of notice had victims beyond the men themselves.
Verse 43 shows that love of fame and the praise of men consumed them. So they became sources of defilement that no one suspected, as verse 44 shows. They damaged others as well as themselves. It is a terrible charge, and a sad one. In different measures it applies at all times to anyone who stands for a religion that is only outward and ceremonial.
What the Pharisees loved, faith refuses. That refusal has a price: not everyone will speak well of such a servant.
Never was it true of Paul, never can it be with a thoroughly devoted and unworldly servant of God, that all speak well of him. So the Jews of old spoke well of the false prophets, but not of the true ones. Faith does not love the chief place at feasts, the greetings in the markets, or the title "Rabbi, Rabbi" from men. It refuses them. The servant holds fast to the name of Him whom the world does not know, and so is unknown.
- Loved. The charge is not against an act but an affection. They loved the best seat and the public greeting — a hunger for a public name for holiness.
- Everywhere. The same appetite ran through the religious circle, the social circle and the business circle. The disciple of Christ is to be the exact opposite.
- Empty. Underneath the dignity it is vanity, a childish wish to be noticed. It is all outward show, with no care for the inward relationship to God.
- Blinding. Wanting honour from men kept them from taking the low place. They would not own what they were, so they could not believe.
- Contagious. Men consumed by love of fame defiled others without anyone suspecting it. The warning still lands wherever religion is only outward.
Woe unto you, for ye are as the sepulchres which appear not, and the men walking over them do not know [it].
Jesus is dining in a Pharisee's house, and instead of small talk He pronounces woes on the religious leaders at the table. This third woe cuts deepest: their trouble was not only what they were, but what they did to everyone near them.
The picture was plain to the people listening. Graves in that land were not all alike.
The word for a grave comes from "to remember," so it means a memorial tomb or monument. But graves were of many kinds. Some were just holes dug in the ground, at times covered over with one or more large stones, and men might walk over them without knowing.
Under Israel's law, contact with such a place carried a real cost:
Anyone who touches a bone of a man, or a grave, is unclean, and this uncleanness lasts for seven days.
The Lord names what lies under the smooth ground, and who else falls under the same charge.
Now they are put together with the scribes — people learned in the law, who had the reputation of being the most careful in their conduct. Both alike count as hypocrites, as graves that do not show. Death never removed, all uncleanness and corruption, lay under these men who looked so religious.
A grave does not hide itself. Someone smooths the ground over. That is the force of the picture when it points at a person.
The Lord uses the figure of a grave to picture hypocrisy. Such a heart presents a pleasant appearance, while inside it is full of dead men's bones and all uncleanness (Matthew 23:27-28). The grave is a heart that deliberately hides its inner corruption beneath a fair exterior. Such were the Pharisees whom the Lord blamed.
Every other woe in this passage exposes what the Pharisees were. This one exposes what they cost the crowd around them.
The third "woe" included the scribes. It added the solemn word "hypocrites," and likened them to hidden graves. People walked over them without knowing that the corruption of death lay so near. By cunningly hiding their own spiritual corruption, they deceived the common people.
One writer traces the same thing in the matching woe in Matthew.
They were most careful about defilement picked up by contact from outside. They were most careless about the defilement they produced within themselves. So they became centres of defilement. Far from picking it up from others, they spread it to others. This is a most subtle evil, and we may well pray to be kept from any hint of it.
Commentators differ slightly here, and the difference comes from the manuscripts. Some texts include the scribes in this woe; others do not.
Compare Matthew 23:27. According to the Received Text, the "lawyers" seem to distinguish themselves from the "scribes"; but the critical text omits "scribes" here. There can be no doubt that "scribe" was used of any man of learning.
Others read the woe as falling on the Pharisees alone, and place it as the climax of a rising sequence — first their fussiness over small duties, then their appetite for public honour, and now this.
Their practice matched a love of being exalted among men (v. 43), and a satisfaction in making a good appearance before their fellows (v. 44). How this ensnares us all naturally! On both of these the Lord pronounced a woe, speaking here only to the Pharisees, as the right reading of verse 44 makes plain. For they were like hidden graves that do not show, and men who walked over them did not know it. Whatever their outward appearance, the Lord's verdict was that they were foul within.
The warning does not stop with the Pharisees. Anyone can walk over such ground, and anyone can become such ground.
And how many of God's children meet such graves in daily life! They take up the principles of the world's religion, and settle for a religion of forms that the state of the heart in no way matches. Sad to say, a Christian may be defiled by a grave. He may also, in this sense, be a hypocrite himself. The apostle Paul had avoided such uncleanness. He did not seek the approval of men, but of God. He said, "We are made manifest to God; and I trust also are made manifest in your consciences" (2 Cor. 5:11).
- Hidden. Not a marked tomb, but ground people cross without knowing what lies beneath.
- Dead. Under that ground lay death: uncleanness and corruption never dealt with, in men known as the most careful of all.
- Chosen. Someone smooths a grave over. So here: a heart decides to keep its inside covered and its outside pleasant.
- Contagious. The hiding does not stop with the hypocrite. He defiles people who never suspected it, and deceives the crowd that trusted him.
- Open. The cure is a life laid open. Paul sought God's approval, not man's, and could say he was made manifest to God.
And one of the doctors of the law answering says to him, Teacher, in saying these things thou insultest us also.
Jesus is at dinner in a Pharisee's house, and He has just rebuked the religious pride and hypocrisy He found there. Now an expert in the law objects that the rebuke lands on his own group too — and what he gets back is not a softer word, but more.
The man who interrupts is not a courtroom attorney but a religious specialist. One reference work sums up both the job and the harm these men did:
A teacher of the law, one who expounded the law. Nicodemus was probably one, since the Lord called him a "teacher of Israel." The Lord said the lawyers put heavy burdens on others, but did not touch those burdens themselves. As they explained the law, they took away the key of knowledge. They did not go in themselves, and they stopped those who were going in — a solemn description that may, sadly, apply to some today.
These men saw themselves as the official interpreters of the law, and some were Pharisees too:
Scribes and lawyers were closely linked. Scribes began as simple writers, then in effect became theologians. In time they handled Israel's law from a judge's point of view, and so became lawyers, and sometimes doctors of the law (as Gamaliel was — Acts 5:34). So they considered themselves the authoritative interpreters of the law. They could be Pharisees at the same time — a double evil!
The lawyer breaks in because he felt the words hit home. One writer pictures the whole scene as light at work on darkness:
When He enters the house, He goes on acting as the Great Teacher, rebuking the religious pride and dark hypocrisy He found there. Then a lawyer who was present feels the righteous rebukes and interrupts Him: "Teacher, in saying these things you insult us also." But the light stays faithful to its work. It keeps showing up the darkness around it, until the darkness shows its hatred in full.
The lawyer may have hoped for a softer word. He got the opposite:
If this lawyer thought the Lord would retract or modify His words out of deference to lawyers, he was mistaken. In fact, the Lord added three "woes" for lawyers also.
The objection did not turn the charge aside:
At this point one of the doctors of the law protested that these words were also an insult to such as himself. This only led to the indictment being more closely pressed home against himself.
One commentator sets their habit of burdening others against what Christ does:
They were notorious for their contempt of the very people from whom they derived their importance. It is an easy thing to lay burdens upon others; it is hard to bear them. Christianity is the exact opposite of this. Christ comes down first of all and takes the heaviest burden of all: the judgment of our sin and guilt, our condemnation from God. Then He leaves us under the Gospel, without that burden… Only grace enables a person to show what the law calls for. The doctors of the law were the very ones who showed the least conscience. They thundered the law at others, but they did not submit to any of its commands themselves, except where it suited them.
The woes that follow are more than scolding. They mark out a road, and name where it ends:
To one of the lawyers who complained that He was reproaching them too, the Lord speaks woe upon woe for them as well. Tampering with the law and the holy things of God, where there is no faith, is the direct road to ruin. It is certain to bring God's judgment.
- Light — the Lord's teaching works like light in that room. The lawyer's interruption proves it reached him, and the light kept shining.
- Stung — he felt the rebuke, and complained of insult instead of taking it to heart. His objection was self-defence, not self-judgment.
- Pressed — the protest wins no retraction. It only draws the charge closer, with three woes added for the lawyers themselves.
- Burdens — their trade was loading others with what they would not touch. Christ is the reverse. He carried the heaviest burden, the judgment of our sin, and leaves us free under the gospel.
- Ruin — handling God's law and holy things without faith is the straight road to ruin. The woes name where that road ends.
And he said, To you also woe, doctors of the law, for ye lay upon men burdens heavy to bear, and yourselves do not touch the burdens with one of your fingers.
At the Pharisee's dinner table the Lord has just spoken sharply about the religion of His host's circle. One of the experts in the law protests that the words insult his group too — so Jesus answers with a woe on the teachers themselves.
These were not lawyers in the modern sense. They were the recognised experts on the law of Moses.
Scribes and lawyers were closely linked. Scribes began as writers, then became theologians. In time they handled Israel's law as judges, and so became lawyers and sometimes teachers of the law. They therefore saw themselves as the authoritative interpreters of the law... They were not concerned to obey the law. They saw themselves as enforcers of it on other people. So they heaped heavy burdens on the people but never lifted a finger to help carry them. Too often the man who is strict in his teaching is loose in his own example.
The lawyer spoke up for his profession. It did him no good.
At this point one of the teachers of the law protested that these words insulted men like him too. That only made the Lord press the charge home against him all the harder. These teachers of the law kept busy laying burdens on others. They made laws for other people, and calmly ignored the law themselves.
The word for "burdens" here does not mean a crushing weight in itself. It is the same word Jesus uses for His own burden.
Two Greek words are both translated 'burden.' With the first, baros, the burden is always heavy and crushing. With the second, phortion, the idea is that it has to be carried — like freight or baggage — though it need not be heavy. The burden the Jewish leaders laid on others was heavy (Matthew 23:4; Luke 11:46). But it may also be light, as the Lord says: "my burden is light" (Matthew 11:30).
So the crushing weight came from the men who piled it on, and from their refusal to carry any of it.
The motive was not zeal. Loading others was how they kept their standing.
We have another mark of false religion. Religion is turned into a law, and then imposed on its unsuspecting followers just as those who profit from it please. In this way they keep up their own standing and authority, while they submit to nothing of the kind themselves. This is one of the marks of how wilful and hopeless the evil is, and to such men God says: "Woe."
Christ did the exact opposite of what these men did.
It is an easy thing to lay burdens on others. It is hard to bear them. Christianity is the exact opposite of this. Christ comes down first of all and takes the hardest burden of all — the judgment of our sin and guilt, our condemnation from God. Then He leaves us under the gospel, without that burden... So the practical exercise of Christianity is in liberty and joy. No doubt grace brings the highest obligations with it. But they are the obligations of men who are free, and who use their freedom for the One whom they love. It was not so with these teachers of the law... Only grace enables a person to show what the law requires.
The lawyers would not touch the load. Christ carries it, and He tells His people to carry one another's.
They laid heavy burdens on the shoulders of men, loads hard to bear. But in Matthew 11 we have read of One whose yoke is easy and whose burden is light. Those who bear His yoke find He bears their burdens for them. That is the law of Christ. He was the burden-bearer all through His life — not the bearer of our sins then, but of our sorrows. On the cross, and there only, He bore our sins. "Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ." We fulfill the law of Christ when we bear one another's burdens.
- Burden laid. The lawyers were the recognised interpreters of the law of Moses. They enforced it on others and excused themselves.
- Burden defined. "Burden" here means a load to be carried, not a crushing weight in itself. The crushing weight came from the men who imposed it.
- Burden's motive. Making rules for others while staying free of them is a mark of false religion. It keeps the rule-makers in authority.
- Burden borne. Christ did the reverse. He took the heaviest load — the judgment of our sin — and leaves His people in liberty and joy.
- Burden shared. Those who wear His easy yoke find He carries their load, and they fulfill His law by carrying one another's.
Woe unto you, for ye build the sepulchres of the prophets, but your fathers killed them.
The Lord is at a meal in a Pharisee's house. One of the experts in the law has just complained that His words insult them too. He answers with a series of woes. This one lands on something that looked like devotion: building tombs for the prophets their own ancestors had killed.
The charge falls on the men who studied and taught the law for a living. They also led the building of these memorials.
The second woe (v. 47) came because the lawyers led the way in raising monuments on the graves of the prophets. They knew the history of these men. Israel's leaders had often put them to death. These leaders hated the prophets while they were alive, then flattered them once they were dead! The Lord spoke of this as a witness to the fact that they were guilty of the murder of the prophets — that is, they were glad the prophets were dead! In practical character they were the very sons of those who had killed them.
At first this seems backwards. Building a tomb looks like the opposite of murder. The link lies in what the builders wanted out of it.
At first it may not be clear why building the tombs showed approval of those who killed the prophets. But the builders took up the killers' place, as it were. In it they sought their own honour instead of receiving the testimony of the prophets. That testimony would have humbled them in the very dust over the moral and utter ruin of the nation. Instead they decorated the tombs of all that was good in the nation, as if all was well. Holy fear at the prophets' rebuke would never have adorned the prophets' tombs.
Another writer names the shared motive that runs from the fathers to the sons.
This sounded well and holy. What could look more praiseworthy than honouring the sufferers and prophets of old by building their tombs? It was really the spirit of the world. First, they proved that they were the successors of those who killed them — not the heirs of the martyrs but of their murderers... They would love the halo around those men of God to shine on themselves. The love of the world made the fathers kill them. The same love of the world led their sons to build these tombs over them.
The honour was safe. A prophet in his grave no longer says anything uncomfortable.
They were also marked by their rejection of God's word and of the prophets who brought it. Yet once the prophets were dead, they honoured them by building their tombs. In this way they hoped to gain the prestige of their names, now that the prophets' words no longer tested them. A cunning device, that! But one not unknown even in our day. It is easy to praise a man to the skies a century after his death — a man people would have fought hard against while he was giving his testimony.
The men honouring dead prophets stood in front of a living one. The One speaking the woe was the Witness all the prophets had pointed to.
They showed much regard and outward reverence for the memory of the prophets, who had suffered for their testimony at the hands of their forefathers. They built their tombs and honoured these dead and silent witnesses. Meanwhile the same spirit they condemned in their fathers was about to show itself in an even more blatant way. It would appear in how they treated the living Witness then among them, the One all the prophets had testified about.
The principle reaches beyond that generation. It shows up wherever people honour God's servants of the past and refuse His testimony in the present.
The successors of those who suffered for God long ago are those who suffer now. The heirs of their persecutors may build them tombs, put up statues, cast memorial plaques, and pay them every honour imaginable. The testimony of God that pierces the hard heart may be gone, and those who gave it may no longer be there. Then the names of these departed saints or prophets become a means of gaining religious reputation for themselves.
- Builders. The teachers of the law led the tomb-building. They honoured in death the very men earlier leaders had killed — flattery for prophets they would have hated alive.
- Motive. They built for their own honour, not out of repentance. Real fear at the prophets' rebuke would never have decorated those graves.
- Kinship. Love of the world made the fathers kill the prophets. The same love made the sons build their monuments. That marks them heirs of the murderers, not of the martyrs.
- Safety. A dead prophet no longer tests anyone by his words, so people can praise his name at no cost — a device still in use today.
- Test. They honoured silent witnesses while the living Witness stood in front of them. The same spirit they condemned in their fathers was about to turn on Him.
Ye bear witness then, and consent to the works of your fathers; for *they* killed them, and *ye* build [their sepulchres].
Jesus is confronting the religious teachers of Israel. He takes something that looked holy — building tombs for the prophets — and calls it proof that these men stand with the killers, not the killed.
Building tombs for the martyred prophets looked respectable. That is what made it useful to the men who did it:
This sounded well and holy. What could look more admirable than honouring the ancient sufferers and prophets by building their tombs? It was really the spirit of the world. First of all they proved that they were the successors of those who killed them. They followed the murderers, not the martyrs. It seemed the opposite of what their fathers had done. Yet it was the same love of the world. That love killed the martyrs in that day, and now it led men to build their tombs to make religious capital out of this pious honour. They would like the glory that surrounded those men of God to shine on themselves.
Why should decorating a grave amount to agreeing with the murder?
It might not appear at first why building the tombs showed approval of those who killed them. But they took up their place, as it were. In it they sought their own honour instead of receiving the testimony of the prophets. That testimony would have humbled them into the dust over the moral and utter ruin of the nation. Instead they decorated the tombs of all that was good in the nation, as if all were well. Holy fear at the prophets' rebuke would never have decorated the prophets' tombs. It was the spirit of this world.
The word "consent" is the sharp edge of the verse. Another commentator finds that consent in how these men treated the prophets' words:
They built their tombs. This was a witness that they were the children of those who had killed them. All the while they consented to the deeds of their fathers: they professed to honour the prophets, yet paid no attention to their rebukes. Their fathers' sins they proclaimed by building the tombs. Their fathers' guilt they consented to, since they did not listen to the teaching of the prophets. In practice they refused the prophets' claim to have been divine messengers. So in effect they justified their fathers' deeds in killing them.
A prophet in his grave makes no demands. That is the quiet advantage these men were taking, and it is a habit that outlives them:
One thing marked them: they rejected God's word and the prophets who brought it. Yet once the prophets were dead, they honoured them by building their tombs. In this way they hoped to gain the prestige of those names, now that the prophets' words no longer tested them. A clever trick, that! But one not unknown even in our day. It is easy to praise a man to the skies a century after his death. The same man would have met fierce opposition while he was still testifying.
That generation kept the same attitude. So God laid the whole record of shed blood at its door:
Then He announced a principle that most people find unacceptable. They either ignore it or fight it hard. The principle is this: God would require the blood of all the prophets of the past from the present generation... The reason is this. The generation He spoke to kept the same attitude of refusal toward the testimony of God. They soon proved it in the murder of the Lord Jesus, and of various apostles later.
One grave was placed beyond the reach of such honours — that of Moses, the leader who brought Israel out of Egypt:
We can see the divine wisdom in burying Moses and hiding his burial place. Those people were far from valuing that blessed servant of God as they should while he was alive to speak and act for his Master. And the Lord has Himself warned us about the same spirit of unbelief. It killed the prophet and the righteous man, who did not spare their sins. Then it built and decorated their tombs once they were gone.
- Appearance — Tomb-building looked like reverence. It was "really the spirit of the world" — a way of borrowing the martyrs' glory.
- Consent — The consent lay in the refusal. Honouring the prophets while ignoring their rebukes justified, in effect, the fathers who killed them.
- Self-witness — By building the tombs, they named their own family line. Their monuments spoke against them.
- Cost — A dead prophet makes no demands. Praise costs nothing a century later, though the same man would have met fierce opposition while he spoke.
- Reckoning — The same refusal continued, so God required the blood of all the prophets from that generation. They proved it soon after in the murder of the Lord Himself.
For this reason also the wisdom of God has said, I will send to them prophets and apostles, and of these shall they kill and drive out by persecution,
The Lord is at a meal, and He has just told the religious teachers that their tomb-building for the murdered prophets shows whose children they are. He then quotes "the wisdom of God," which raises two questions: who is this Wisdom that speaks, and why is sending more messengers a proof of guilt instead of a cure for it?
The verse gives the words a speaker: wisdom. One commentator compares this with the way wisdom speaks in Proverbs.
"The wisdom of God," the Lord had said. This is the only place in the New Testament where wisdom speaks. The wording He used fits the moment. Wisdom speaks in the Old Testament (Prov. 8) to warn men, so that the simple should understand wisdom, and the fools might have an understanding heart. Wisdom speaks in the New Testament (Luke 11:49) to announce that warning fools is now hopeless, and that judgment is therefore certain.
But wisdom here is not just an idea. It says "I," and one commentator asks who that "I" is.
Some say we cannot apply abstract principles to Divine Persons, but Luke 11:49 clearly disproves this: "Therefore also the Wisdom of God said, 'I will send them prophets and apostles.'" Here we have a divine Person speaking... God has made divine wisdom available to us in Christ, as we read, "And because of him you are in Christ Jesus, who became to us wisdom from God" (1 Cor. 1:30).
The verse opens with a "therefore" that points back to the tomb-building. What looked like reverence for dead prophets was the same instinct that had killed them.
What could be more praiseworthy than that they should honour the ancient sufferers and prophets by building their tombs? It was really the spirit of the world. First of all they proved that they were the successors of those who killed them — not the successors of the martyrs, but of their murderers... It was the love of the world that made the fathers kill them; and it was the love of the world that led their sons to build these tombs over them.
The verse names two kinds of messengers. One commentator ties both to the mission of the New Testament, not to Israel's past.
He judges the condition of the nation and the hypocrisy of its pretended righteousness... He announces the mission of the apostles and prophets of the New Testament. Rejecting them would fill up the measure of Israel's sin. It would be the final test for the hypocrites who built the tombs of the prophets their fathers had killed. God had been patient over all that blood. He kept sending testimonies to give the people light, and the blood was shed because of those testimonies. At last He would require it from the rebels.
Kelly asks why the saying is credited to God's wisdom and not to human insight.
It is expressly called the wisdom of God, because it is not what would appear to man... God would test them soon by sending prophets and apostles, some of whom they would kill, and some they would persecute, getting rid of them all in one way or another.
God knows the outcome before the messengers leave. He sends them anyway, and that does not soften the guilt of the people who reject them.
He knew that they would reject the prophets and messengers by whom He spoke to them, and offered them forgiveness and mercy if they would only repent. (See Ezek. 3:7-9.) Still, He sent them, rising early to send them again and again. Was their responsibility lessened by God's foreknowledge of the way they would treat the messengers of His mercy? Surely not.
The warning was not about some distant generation. It landed on the men in the room.
The Lord's words imply that what their fathers had done would be done again by the sons. The generation He spoke to were guilty not only of the blood of the former prophets, but of the Son of God Himself.
Kelly sees the same pattern in a day still to come. Knowing the history in advance makes the guilt worse, not lighter.
There will be a violent outbreak against the witnesses of Jesus. Their blood will be shed like water. This persecution is all the more guilty because men will have known about it beforehand. They will have admitted the guilt of those who did it, and yet they will fall into the same rut themselves. Sadly, unbelief is most of all blind to itself.
- Wisdom speaks. This is the only place in the New Testament where wisdom speaks. In Proverbs it spoke to warn the simple. Here it says that warning is now hopeless.
- Wisdom is a Person. The "I" who sends is a Person, not just a quality. Commentators point to Christ, who became wisdom from God to us.
- Wisdom sends. He sends prophets and apostles, the messengers of the New Testament. They are the final test for men who honour dead prophets and reject living ones.
- Wisdom foreknows. He knows their fate before they go, and He still sends them. His foreknowledge never lowers the guilt of those who reject His messengers.
- Wisdom is refused. Honouring the martyrs of a past age costs nothing. The real test is the messenger speaking now. Unbelief is blindest about itself.
that the blood of all the prophets which has been poured out from the foundation of the world may be required of this generation,
Jesus is at a Pharisee's table, and His last words to the religious experts stop rebuking and pass sentence: centuries of murdered messengers now count against this generation. That raises the hardest question here — how can one generation answer for blood spilled long before it was born?
The sentence follows a charge about tomb-building. The men who built those tombs thought it proved they were nothing like their fathers.
They built the tombs of the prophets. This sounded good and holy. What could look better than honouring the prophets and sufferers of old by building their tombs? It was really the spirit of the world. First, they proved whose successors they were — not the martyrs' but their murderers'. It seemed the opposite of what their fathers had done. Yet the same love of the world was at work. It killed the martyrs back then, and now it led men to build their tombs, to make religious capital out of this pious honour.
The verse before names the speaker as the wisdom of God. That title appears elsewhere in Scripture, but with a different purpose.
"The wisdom of God," the Lord had said. Here only in the New Testament is wisdom said to speak. The title fitted the moment. Wisdom speaks in the Old Testament (Proverbs 8) to warn men, so that the simple would understand wisdom and the foolish would gain an understanding heart. Wisdom speaks in the New Testament (Luke 11:49) to say that warning fools is now hopeless, and that the coming judgment is therefore certain.
The verse dates the account from the world's beginning. Scripture uses that same starting line elsewhere.
Scripture often mentions the "foundation of the world" as the far border-line of the past. Human history is counted "from" that point (Matthew 13:35; Matthew 25:34; Luke 11:50; Hebrews 4:3; Revelation 13:8).
The next verse fixes the two ends of the account — Abel and Zechariah. One writer notes how hard this sits with readers, and gives the reason behind it.
Then He announced a principle that most people find unacceptable. They either ignore it or fight it hard. That principle is that the blood of all the prophets of the past would be required of the present generation; to leave no doubt, He speaks of the blood of Abel, whom Cain killed, and down to Zechariah, who was killed while doing his priestly service for God (2 Chronicles 24:20-21). The reason is that this generation kept the same attitude of refusal towards the testimony of God. They soon proved it by murdering the Lord Jesus, and various apostles later.
God had let the account run for ages. What closed it was the end of every appeal. The reckoning falls on the nation as a whole, not in place of each person's own judgment.
All the blood which had been shed since the blood of righteous Abel had to be required of that generation. God had not required it before. He had enlightened them by His law, stirred them up by His prophets, warned them through discipline, and appealed to their whole moral being by sending His Son. The sins of the fathers should have warned the children to avoid the same offences. The children sinned after them, so they sinned in the light. But they persisted… This still leaves each of their fathers facing the consequences of his own sin at the judgment of the dead. But the nation — the system as a whole, the public object of God's government in the world — has been judged.
Commentators differ over how closely the word ties to the people alive at that time. One reading takes it as a moral description, not a date.
The true force is "this (Christ-rejecting, unbelieving) generation of Israel." It does not mean only the people alive then. It means all who bore the same moral fruits as those who refused the Messiah… Israel stood in the place of witness for God. So they suffered for despising His last testimony to them in Christ, and God required of them all the righteous blood shed from the beginning onwards. The same principle applies to Babylon in Revelation: "in her was found the blood of prophets and of saints, and of all who have been slain on earth."
The same principle can run again. Men who condemn past persecutors are not safe from copying them.
In the last days there will be a violent outbreak against the witnesses of Jesus. Their blood will be shed like water. The persecution will be all the more guilty because men will have known about it beforehand. They will have admitted the guilt of those who did it, and yet they will fall into the same rut themselves. Sadly, unbelief is most of all blind to itself.
- Pretence — They built tombs for dead prophets and fought the living ones. That marked them as successors of the murderers, not of the martyrs.
- Patience — God waited long. He gave the law, the prophets, His discipline, and at last His own Son.
- Wisdom — Wisdom speaks once in the New Testament. It does not warn now; it announces certain judgment.
- Reckoning — The account runs from the world's foundation, from Abel to Zechariah. It falls on the nation as God's public witness.
- Repetition — The same principle falls on Babylon, and guilt is heaviest where men knew the crime beforehand.
from the blood of Abel to the blood of Zacharias, who perished between the altar and the house; yea, I say to you, it shall be required of this generation.
Here the Lord draws a line across the whole of Israel's history. It runs from the first murder in Genesis to a killing in the temple courts. Then He places the bill for all of it on the people standing in front of Him.
The two names are not a random pair. They mark the first and last pages of Israel's Bible, whose books stood in a different order from ours.
2 Chronicles is the last book in the Hebrew Bible. So this would have amounted to saying: the blood of all the martyrs in your history, from Genesis to 2 Chronicles, will be required of this generation. We would say, from Genesis to Revelation, without even settling the date of that last book. The martyrs from Genesis to Chronicles were all the martyrs killed by Jewish hatred of the truth. The Lord does not date their martyrdom by naming this one the last of the martyrs.
Commentators differ. Some take him as the priest killed by the king's order, recorded in 2 Chronicles 24.
This probably refers to Zechariah the son of Jehoiada, who was killed in this way by order of the king (2 Chronicles 24:20-22). In one of those places "son" may mean "grandson." The book of Chronicles closes the Hebrew Bible, so the murder of this righteous man may well be counted the last, as Abel's was the first.
Others take him as Zechariah the prophet. They point to what the place of the murder says about the killers.
In this case the martyr seems to have been doing actual priestly service. He was the grandson of Iddo, of the priestly family (Zechariah 1:1; Nehemiah 12:1-4), and they killed him between the temple and the altar. This shows the cold-blooded ruthlessness of his attackers. They had no regard for God's glory symbolised in the temple and the altar.
The charge sounds unfair until you see how much light that generation had received. God had been patient for centuries, and every fresh warning made the refusal of it heavier.
All the blood which had been shed since the blood of righteous Abel had to be required of that generation. God had not required it before. He had enlightened them by His law, stirred them up by His prophets, warned them by chastisements, and appealed to their whole moral being by sending His Son. The very sins of the fathers should have warned their children to avoid the same offences. Coming after those sins, the children's offences were committed in the light. But they persisted in them, and so heaped up wrath for the day of judgment.
They had built tombs for the murdered prophets, which looked like reverence. Behind both the killing and the monument stood the same motive.
They proved that they were the successors of those who killed them — not the successors of the martyrs, but of their murderers. It seemed the opposite of what their fathers had done. Yet it was the same love of the world. That love killed the martyrs in that day, and now led men to build their tombs to make religious capital out of this pious honour. They would gladly have the halo surrounding those men of God shine on themselves.
The Lord repeats the sentence rather than softening it. That opening word is not a filler.
It affirms firmly when a matter might seem to be in doubt. Or it repeats something as a certainty that cannot fail, as in Luke 11:51.
What made the certainty so plain was the direction that generation was already travelling.
That principle is that the blood of all the prophets of the past would be required of the present generation... The reason is simply that this generation He spoke to kept the same attitude of refusal towards the testimony of God, which they very soon proved in the murder of the Lord Jesus and of various apostles later.
This is not only about Israel. One generation can take on the guilt of the ones before it, and Christians are warned too.
In the sight of God, one generation inherits all the iniquity that the generations before it completed. That iniquity ought to warn their conscience... If Christians are not fully separated from Babylon, they inherit the iniquity of the earlier times. They join themselves with it, and their conscience learns nothing from it. When man has used up one principle, God sets another before him to work on his conscience. If he rejects that too, he is so much the more guilty.
- First blood. Abel opens the account — the first righteous man killed, and the start of a record God kept for centuries.
- Last blood. Zechariah closes it, because Chronicles ends the Hebrew Bible. Commentators differ over which Zechariah, but the sweep runs from Genesis to the last page.
- Light refused. God did not present the bill earlier. Law, prophets, chastisements and then His Son: each new light made the refusal a heavier sin.
- Same spirit. Building tombs for murdered prophets was no break with the murderers. The same love of the world drove both the killing and the monument.
- Bill presented. "Yes, I tell you" is not emphasis for its own sake. It marks a certainty that cannot fail. The principle still reaches every generation that inherits privilege and learns nothing from it.
Woe unto you, the doctors of the law, for ye have taken away the key of knowledge; yourselves have not entered in, and those who were entering in ye have hindered.
Jesus ends a series of woes with a charge against Israel's professional teachers of the law. They held the key that opens the door to God, and they took it away — so what is that key, and can the same thing happen today?
These men were not lawyers in today's courtroom sense. They were the recognised experts in the law of Moses.
Scribes and lawyers were closely linked. Scribes started out as writers, then in practice became theologians. Later they took up Israel's law as a legal matter. So they became lawyers, and sometimes doctors of the law (as Gamaliel was — Acts 5:34). They therefore considered themselves the authoritative interpreters of the law.
The key is not a secret teaching. Commentators identify it with Scripture itself. The abuse of it is the claim to be the only people qualified to explain it.
I have understood the "key of knowledge" to be the Word of God itself. The lawyers got that name because they claimed skill in the law of Moses. They acted much as any group of men who take that role as a profession are sure to act. They claimed to be the authoritative explainers of the Word, and claimed that right for themselves alone. To keep that place, they deny that others, untrained and not professional, have any ability to understand it without their teaching. So in the end they withdraw the Word from ordinary people.
Nobody stole a book. They removed direct access — the Word reaching a person's own conscience without needing anyone's permission.
Here is the next mark of hypocritical, systematic religion. They pretended to explain the law and to be the men who apply it to others. So they deprived the very people the law was meant for: that convincing, knowledge-giving word never reached their hearts and consciences directly. They took away the key of knowledge, so that people could not go in for themselves without their leave and their opening of the door. In the end they did not go in themselves. They used their right to teach only as a right to stop others entering into the knowledge of what God has set before men in this word. By this word He reveals His grace and makes men responsible.
Their failure was not a lack of material. Everything they claimed to teach about was standing in front of them.
The Lord pronounces one more woe on the doctors of the law. They were doing then what others are doing at this present time. Wisdom was there, truth was there, Christ was there. All the doctors of the law did was hinder people from profiting by it, to keep up their own importance.
Blocking others was not an accident. Keeping people uninformed protected their standing.
The Lord's final woe to lawyers is because they had taken away the key of knowledge. They did not enter the kingdom themselves. They claimed to be wise, and used their intellect to obscure real knowledge. So they also hindered others from entering the kingdom. They kept others in ignorance so that people would count them wise!
Matthew records a matching woe: the scribes shut the kingdom of heaven against people. Luke shows how they did it, and what it costs.
Few can dispute that the keys are for admission. The proper use of a key is to open. In Matt. 23:13 the Lord charges the scribes with shutting up the kingdom of heaven against men. In Luke 11:52 He shows how they did it: "you have taken away the key of knowledge." The kingdom springs out of the sowing of the seed of the Word, so knowledge must be one key to it. Taking it away must prevent discipleship.
The verse is a warning. But it has a bright side: the key the lawyers took away is now in the hands of God's people.
How highly favoured are God's people today! They have the key of knowledge in Christ, and it opens to them all the great treasures of the Old Testament and the New. God has revealed Himself in the Son. And in the mystery of God, which centres in the Son of God, "all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge" are hidden (Col. 2:3).
- Key — commentators take the key of knowledge to be the Word of God itself, and a key exists to open a door.
- Taken — not by theft but by monopoly. They claimed to be the only competent interpreters, and so withdrew the Word from ordinary people.
- Empty — Christ, wisdom and truth stood right in front of them. The teachers stayed outside, because their own importance mattered more.
- Blocked — keeping others ignorant was the point. An ignorant crowd kept the experts looking wise, and it stopped people becoming disciples.
- Given back — God has now given what they removed. The key of knowledge is Christ Himself, and in Him all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge are hidden.
And as he said these things to them, the scribes and the Pharisees began to press him urgently, and to make him speak of many things;
The dinner in a Pharisee's house ends badly. He has exposed the religious leaders one by one, and now they crowd around Him with questions built to trap Him.
This verse is the reaction to everything the Lord said at that table. Darby links the two directly:
In the Pharisee's house, He judges the state of the nation, and the hypocrisy of its pretended righteousness... The Lord's words only stirred up the malice of the Pharisees, who tried to trap Him in what He said.
Older translations render this phrase "to make him speak." Kelly gives the force of the one Greek word behind it:
"To make him speak" is apostomatizein. McClellan renders it: "to urge Him to answer offhand."
They wanted a fast, unguarded answer on as many subjects as possible. The aim was not information but evidence:
They wanted Him to commit Himself. They wanted the Lord to say something that would let them drag Him before their court. So they watched Him, trying to catch some word out of His mouth that they could use to accuse Him.
The Lord had just said that inwardly these men were full of greed and wickedness. Their behaviour in this verse settled the question:
But the scribes and Pharisees — and the lawyers were among them — proved at once that His words were true. Inside, they were full of cruelty and wickedness. They pressed Him hard to speak about many things, hoping He would say something they could use against Him (vs. 53-54). What a useless effort! He spoke only words of truth and good sense.
Kelly sees more here than one group at one dinner:
Their hearts were filled with more than robbery. They held a wickedness that would turn into violence against the truth and against those who carried it, just like their fathers. The first man, Adam, never changes for the better. He is only evil, all the time. The more good you show him, the more evil he proves himself to be.
Bellett pictures the Lord's words in that room as light, and the men around Him as darkness:
But the light stays faithful to its work. It keeps making the darkness around it visible, until the hatred of that darkness is fully awake. Then scribes and Pharisees together press Him so hard that He has to withdraw the light, whose power they could no longer bear.
A Pharisee had invited Him to this meal. Bellett notes that the invitation did not soften His judgment of what He found there:
The sweetness of courtesy is the best ingredient in social life in this world. Even so, it should not twist His taste or His judgment... The politeness that invited Him to dinner was not going to decide the judgment of the One who weighs everything by the standards of God's sanctuary... Flattery could not talk Him out of a right judgment. He exposes and rebukes, and the end of the scene proves Him right.
Their tactic assumed He would lose His footing if pushed hard enough. He did not:
It is clear that the Lord spoke these terrible words of judgment with a calm spirit. The best of men would have spoken differently. So the command comes to us, "Be angry and do not sin" (Eph. 4:26). We easily sin when we are angry against sin. He needed no such command. His opponents thought they had only to provoke Him further and He would easily give way. He did no such thing, as the next chapter shows.
Ridout reads the scene against God's rule for sacrifices:
No sacrifice with the slightest blemish or bruise could be offered to God... The stones lay thickest around Him at exactly these moments. Everything about them was fitted to stir a man's spirit to absolute fury — the hard hearts, the envy and the unbelief of those who tried to "entangle Him in His words." Yet they only displayed the perfect balance of His soul. (See Luke 11:53-54.)
- Light shines. He kept speaking plain truth inside a hostile house, and His words were the light in that room.
- Light exposes. He had called them full of wickedness inside. Their pressing and plotting proved the charge at once.
- Darkness schemes. They wanted quick, unguarded answers — something they could carry to a court as an accusation.
- Light is spotless. They pushed, expecting Him to break. He stayed calm, and gave them nothing to use.
- Light withdraws. Once their hatred was fully awake, He withdrew the light they could no longer bear.