Produce therefore fruits worthy of repentance; and begin not to say in yourselves, We have Abraham for [our] father, for I say unto you that God is able of these stones to raise up children to Abraham.
The crowds trusted their family line from Abraham to keep them safe. John says it counts for nothing, which leaves two questions: what fruit proves repentance, and why God speaks of raising children from stones.
John asks for proof you can see. A change no one can see is a change no one can trust.
To show the reality of repentance there must be fruit. If I am under God's saving grace, I must also be under His teaching grace. If there is faith, there are works.
The same test applies to faith:
James, in his letter, insists that faith, if it is real and alive, must show itself in suitable works. Here John calls for just the same thing about repentance.
So what is repentance itself? One writer warns against a definition that stops at the mind.
Repentance is not just a change of mind. Do not let such a definition take hold of your minds… No doubt a mighty change of mind always goes with faith in Christ, and there is a complete revolution in the soul. But the change is not merely intellectual. It is moral. The soul is brought to sit in judgment on itself, and to pronounce God's judgment on its ways. It takes the place of a sinner, yes of a lost one, before God. Until this happens, there is no divine root.
Another writer defines it as self-judgment done before God Himself:
Scriptural repentance is nothing less than our identification with God in His judgment of our sins. It is our taking His part against ourselves. And so it is our bowing in the dust before Him in true self-judgment.
The words "do not begin to say" cut the sentence off before it starts. The claim itself is the problem. It swaps the question of guilt for a question of family line.
He pressed them: if they claimed to repent, let fruits that matched it prove their repentance. To boast that Abraham was their father was no repentance at all, but self-justification.
It was not a small correction. It removed the whole ground they stood on:
In this way he shattered at one blow all their settled ideas about the spiritual advantages of birth and parentage. They had grown so used to taking pride in them.
The saying about the stones is not a threat only. It states that God is not cornered by anyone's family tree.
To boast in the privileges of their nation, or of their fathers, was worth nothing before God. He required what His very nature, His truth, demanded. What is more, He was sovereign. He was able to raise up children to Abraham out of those stones. This is what His sovereign grace has done for the Gentiles, through Christ.
Another writer sees in the stones a picture of every believer's former state:
These stones are what we were — stones without life. But now we are children of Abraham, children of promise, counted as a seed… In Romans 4 Abraham is the father of all who believe, even though they are not circumcised.
John asks for fruit, but fruit needs a source. One writer sees John pointing further back:
John stirred their hearts about the fruit they ought to have borne. He also spoke of the need for a new root before good fruit could grow for God's pleasure.
When the crowds asked what to do, John gave no religious programme. He spoke to tax collectors and soldiers about money, honesty and contentment.
John called people to repentance. Yet sorrow for sins is poor and shallow when it only owns the past and judges the evil that has so far shown itself in our ways, however strong that judgment is. John lays down suitable conduct for those who claimed to repent.
- Root — no good fruit comes without a new root; John's demand exposes the need for God to work in the soul first.
- Repentance — not sorrow, not a change of opinion. It is siding with God's verdict on yourself and taking a sinner's place before Him.
- Fruit — the visible proof. If faith is real it shows in works, and the same test applies to repentance.
- Stones — God is free to raise children to Abraham from what has no life, which is how grace reached beyond the nation.
- Ancestry — claiming Abraham was self-justification dressed as repentance. John stopped the words before they were spoken.
And already also the axe is applied to the root of the trees; every tree therefore not producing good fruit is cut down and cast into [the] fire.
John the Baptist warns the crowds who came out to him that God's judgment is no longer far off. Two questions follow: what makes a tree good in God's eyes, and what hope remains for a tree that is not?
John is not describing something far off in time.
Each person's own state was the question. God was coming to deal with souls and with His vineyard. Sovereign grace still belonged to Him. He could make real children of Abraham out of stones. And the axe was laid to the root of the trees. This was not warning and forbearance — the time of divine dealing had come. Judgment was there at the door. If a tree did not bear good fruit, it was to be cut down and thrown into the fire.
An axe at the root is not pruning. It does not correct the tree; it removes it.
He showed that no place of religious privilege would help them, for God was about to judge the very roots of things. The axe was now about to cut. It would not lop off branches. It would strike at the root and bring the whole tree down. This is a very vivid picture. It came true not in outward judgment, such as will mark the Second Coming, but in the moral judgment reached at the cross. At the Second Coming, fire will consume the dead tree. The First Coming led to the cross, where the sentence of condemnation fell on Adam and his race. In other words, the tree was cut down.
John left no middle ground and no appeal to ancestry.
John the Baptist addresses himself to the Jews, demanding repentance, and righteousness as its fruit. He shows them that if they were nearer to God outwardly as Jews, they must expect judgment all the sooner. If the Lord was coming, He must have what suited the Lord. The axe was even then lying at the root of the trees. Repentance or wrath — which? The Lord would allow no plea of descent from Abraham if their ways contradicted Abraham; He must have righteousness.
The axe does more than fell the tree. It also opens up what the bark was hiding.
He said, moreover, "Even now the axe is laid to the root of the trees"; and if an axe is laid to the root of a tree, down it must go. In a way, then, John foretold the ruin of the nation. And if the axe were laid to the root of the tree, it would also show what was inside the tree — and it might be rotten to the core. If the axe of God's Word lays open the heart of man — as it does — it shows it to be rotten to the very core.
Self-improvement is no answer.
God would not recognise any amount of self-improvement on Israel's part. If the tree was bad, as its fruit showed, it would be cut down and thrown into the fire. A solemn warning of God's judgment against falsehood in any of us or in any nation, however appealing an impression that falsehood tries to make.
If every fruitless tree falls, what fruit will God accept?
Notice that John recognises only one good fruit as the way of escape: the sincere confession of sin, made through grace. Only those who make this confession escape the axe. There were really no good trees except those which confessed that they were bad.
John's call for fruit points to a deeper problem.
John searched their hearts about the fruit they ought to have borne. He also spoke of the need for a new root, because without it no good fruit could grow for God's pleasure. How then was this new root to be planted in their souls?
- Root. The axe strikes the root, not the branches. God deals with what a person or a nation is, not with tidying up its worst growth.
- Now. "Even now" is the sharpest phrase. This is not a season of warning and patience. It is the moment of divine dealing, with judgment at the door.
- Privilege fails. Descent from Abraham shelters no one whose life contradicts Abraham. Outward nearness to God only brings the reckoning sooner.
- Fruit. God judges the tree by what it produces. The first fruit He accepts is the honest confession of sin. The only good trees were the ones that admitted they were bad.
- A new root. Fruit that pleases God must grow from a root God Himself plants. Commentators differ over what the felling pictures: some point to the cross, others to the ruin still ahead. Either way, the fire is real.
And the crowds asked him saying, What should we do then?
John has just warned the crowds that the axe is already at the root of the trees. Their answer is not an argument but a question, and John's reply is not a religious program but plain instructions for ordinary people.
John refused to let anyone settle for talk.
John demanded deeds, not words, as the practical fruits of repentance, and this led to the people's question, recorded in verse 10. The tax collectors and the soldiers followed with similar questions. By his answers in each case John put his finger on the particular sins that marked the different classes. Yet, though the answers varied, covetousness provoked all the wrongs he dealt with. Of all the evil weeds that flourish in the human heart, covetousness is about the most deep-seated and the hardest to deal with. Like the dandelion, its roots go down a long way.
John was not speaking only to religious leaders here.
It is not a question now of reproving Pharisees and Sadducees coming to his baptism, as in Matthew. Here John solemnly warns the whole crowd, and Luke records his words to each class. … Man was far from God: he was a sinner. Without repentance and faith, what could his religious privileges be worth? … This also accounts for the details of the different classes that come before John the Baptist, and the practical dealing with the duties of each. That is an important thing, I believe, for us to keep in mind, for God thinks of souls. Wherever there is real moral discipline according to His mind, it deals with men as they are, taking them up in the circumstances of their everyday life. Tax collectors, soldiers, people — each hears their own proper word.
John tells nobody to leave their job or retreat from normal life. And none of it earns them anything from God.
To those who ask him what they are to do, he prescribes no strict self-denial. He calls for practical righteousness and love. Yet none of this gives them any claim on God. As the Lord says at a later time, no such claim is possible for a creature: "So you also, when you have done all that you were commanded, say, 'We are unworthy servants; we have only done what was our duty.'"
A person can feel real sorrow for sin and still change nothing.
John called to repentance. But sorrow for sins that only admits the past is poor and shallow, however strongly it condemns the evil that has shown itself in our ways so far. John lays down suitable conduct for those who professed to repent.
The three groups got different instructions. Another writer names the spirit that lies under all of them.
What we come out of in repentance, above all, is the spirit of selfishness, covetousness and grandeur, and disregard of others. In a word, it is everything contrary to "You shall love your neighbour as yourself." That is repentance in its practical working — the fruit in keeping with it. … Repentance, when genuine, produces above all a contrast to the evil that had been running unchecked. So selfishness is marked out as the general spirit to be repented of, and the sinner is left to his conscience, with no escape.
Luke opens this chapter with a picture of road work: valleys raised, rough ground made smooth. One writer sees that same work in these three answers.
Here we see a threefold effect in three classes of persons. First, the people: "Whoever has two tunics is to share with him who has none." So the mountain and the hill were made low and the valley lifted up. Second, the tax collectors: "Collect no more than you are authorized to do." Here we see how the crooked was made straight. Third, the soldiers: "Do not extort money from anyone by threats or by false accusation, and be content with your wages." So the rough places were made smooth. He would rouse every class to a sense of their responsibility before God. In this way he prepared them as a people for the coming of their Messiah.
John's answers deal with daily conduct. One writer contrasts them with a later question about being saved.
The people, the tax collectors and the soldiers all answered John's call to repentance. They asked, "What then shall we do?" How different, however, is the question about salvation and its answer (Acts 16:30-31).
- Warning first. The axe at the root, not a lecture on ethics, is what made the crowd ask what to do.
- Doing, not saying. John would accept only deeds as the fruit of repentance, and he named the sins of each group.
- Ordinary life. No strict self-denial — just share a coat, share food. None of it gives anyone a claim on God.
- One root. Covetousness and selfishness lie under all three answers. Both are the opposite of loving your neighbour.
- A different answer. The crowd's question prepared the road for the Lord. The question about salvation gets a very different answer.
And he answering says to them, He that has two body-coats, let him give to him that has none; and he that has food, let him do likewise.
John had just warned the crowds at the Jordan of coming judgment. So they asked the obvious question: what should we do? His reply points to a spare coat and a meal, and to the neighbour who has neither.
Each Gospel writer has his own focus, and that decides what he records.
Only Luke records the people asking John what they ought to do, for Luke singles out those things that have to do with moral character. John's Gospel rather dwells on the Baptist's testimony to the glory of the Lord Jesus. Here John answered the common people to the effect that they should willingly share what they had with those in need (v.11). This is not the gospel of grace, but it challenges Israelites as to whether they were willing to act by faith in the true God. Not that this would necessarily prove faith, for some would do such things from selfish motives. But it was a challenge all the same.
John does not leave repentance at the level of regret. He tells those who claim it what their days should now look like.
John called people to repentance. But it is poor, shallow sorrow for sin that only owns the past and judges the evil already showing in our ways, however strongly it judges it. John lays down suitable conduct for those who professed to repent. God was acting Himself for His own glory in the spirit of this same grace. Repentance prepares the way for grace. Grace produces it, of course, but repentance also leads into a path of grace.
John gives three answers to one question — one to the crowds, one to the tax collectors, one to the soldiers. Each answer lands where that group would feel it.
Only Luke gives us this. Everything in his Gospel speaks of its great moral purpose — what fitted the revelation of God come in grace in Man among men. So here we get the specific tests that John applied to the different classes who came before him. In principle they are solemn for us all. The question "What shall we do then?" is common and easy enough. A direction proves how sincere it is: one that strikes at the habitual self-indulgence, the particular form the will of the flesh takes in each — the people generally, tax collectors, and soldiers.
The answers differ from group to group. What lies underneath them does not.
John demanded deeds, not words, as the practical fruits of repentance. That led to the people's question in verse 10. By his answers in each case John put his finger on the particular sins that marked the different classes. Yet, though the answers varied, we can see that covetousness provoked all the wrongs he dealt with. Of all the evil weeds that grow in the human heart, covetousness is about the most deep-seated and the hardest to deal with. Like the dandelion, its roots go down to a great depth.
Two things John does not do are as telling as what he does.
To those who ask him what they are to do, he prescribes no severe self-denial. He calls instead for practical righteousness and love. Yet none of it gives anyone a claim on God. As the Lord says later, no creature can make such a claim: "when you have done all say, We are unworthy servants; we have only done what was our duty."
John's mission was to prepare a road. Sharing a coat is one way the ground gets levelled.
So the mountain and the hill came down and the valley was lifted up... He would wake up every class to their responsibility before God. In this way he prepared them as a people for the coming of their Messiah. This was an appeal to the hearts of the people. On the one hand God offered them pardon, for they had suffered for their sins under His governing hand. On the other He was preparing them to receive Christ, who would bring them into the blessing of God.
Yet there is a limit to what John's preaching could do.
Clearly John's word is not a voice of mercy to the poor sinner. God is presented in the way of judgment, not of sovereign mercy. He does not say, "Come to me." John could not say it, because he was not Christ, and none but He could say, "Come to me." John came in righteousness.
- Question — "What shall we do?" is easy to ask. John answers with a coat and a meal, so the cost tests how sincere the question was.
- Proof — Sorrow that only looks back is shallow. John lays down conduct fit for people who claim to have repented.
- Root — Each group gets a different instruction. Yet covetousness lies under them all — the deepest-rooted weed in the human heart.
- Balance — John asks no harsh self-denial. Obedience here earns no claim on God: it is duty, not merit.
- Limit — This levelling prepared a people for their Messiah. But John could never say "Come to me." He came in righteousness and pointed to the One who could.
And tax-gatherers came also to be baptised, and they said to him, Teacher, what should we do?
Tax collectors worked for Rome, and they got rich by squeezing their own countrymen. Yet here they come to John's baptism with everyone else, asking what they should do.
Two things made these men hateful to Jews: politics and money.
These minor officials were known everywhere for their dishonest demands. The Jews hated them most of all. The Jews looked on themselves as a freeborn people, and believed they had this privilege straight from God Himself. They boasted that they were Abraham's offspring, and that no one had ever enslaved them. So the Roman tax gatherers were the visible proof of their slavery, and of how low their nation had sunk... Besides, they taxed people in an arbitrary and unjust way, and the law was on their side, so they could force payment.
The system itself invited the abuse.
Tax collectors took on the Roman taxes, with a fixed sum due for each district. They then passed smaller portions on to other men, or hired them to collect the money. The whole system was bad, and it was open to abuse by the collectors demanding more than they should.
John's preaching drew a crowd nobody would have gathered on purpose. Two groups stand out, and each shows a different way of wronging a neighbour.
And who do we see coming to the prophet's baptism? Tax collectors, men whose bad character was plain to all. Soldiers, who were used to oppressing the people. Corruption and violence find a meeting place at the baptism of repentance, where men own them and judge them.
They call John "Teacher." It is the ordinary word for a teacher, and the Gospels use it of the Lord Himself.
Didaskalos means "teacher." In the Gospels this is often translated "master" when it is applied to the Lord.
But asking the question is the cheap part. What proves a person means it is where the answer lands.
The question "What shall we do then?" is common and easy enough. What tests whether it is sincere is a direction that strikes at the habitual self-indulgence of each group. The will of the flesh works in each one in its own particular form — in the people at large, in the tax collectors, and in the soldiers.
John does not send them away with a general sermon. He names the exact thing their trade was famous for.
When the tax gatherers came to be baptized, an ordinary Jew would have dismissed them with contempt. John does not. He answers their question, "Teacher, what shall we do?" He said to them, "Collect no more than you are authorized to do." They were notorious for extortion, and their greed was proverbial. They robbed the very people whose taxes they were appointed to collect.
Different classes got different instructions, yet one appetite lies under all of them.
Though the answers varied, we can see that covetousness caused all the wrongs he dealt with. Of all the evil weeds that grow in the human heart, covetousness is about the most deep-rooted and the hardest to pull up. Like the dandelion, its roots go down a long way.
So why did men like this respond at all? One writer points to what happens when a person stops defending himself.
When we know what we are as sinners, we justify God, never ourselves; and then in His ways with us He justifies us... The first good fruit that is ever produced is the admission that we produce bad fruit.
Others heard the same preacher and turned away.
But the careful and the wise rejected God's counsel for themselves and set it aside. These were the religious, the learned and the great — "the Pharisees and lawyers." They rejected it because they refused even the preparatory work of John the Baptist. Having refused the lesser testimony, they never passed on into the greater things.
For these men, repentance meant honest dealing. One writer sees in that a crooked path being made straight.
Second, the tax collectors also came to be baptized and asked him what they should do. His answer was, "Collect no more than you are authorized to do." Here we see how the crooked was to be made straight... He would wake up every class to a sense of their responsibility before God. This prepared them as a people for the coming of their Messiah.
- Hated. Jews hated tax collectors as living proof that Rome ruled them, and the system let collectors demand more than they should.
- Welcomed. John does not turn them away. At his baptism, men own their corruption and violence and judge it.
- Tested. Anyone can ask "What shall we do?" The answer proves you mean it when it strikes the sin you profit from.
- Named. John points at the very habit that made them rich. Covetousness lies under every answer he gives, the deepest-rooted weed in the human heart.
- Straightened. Admitting we bear bad fruit is the first good fruit. Those who refused this lesser work of preparation never went on to the greater.
And he said to them, Take no more [money] than what is appointed to you.
John's preaching drew crowds. Tax collectors came for baptism too — men who made their living by squeezing money out of their own people. Their question was practical, and so was his answer. He did not tell them to leave the job. He told them to stop stealing inside it.
The tax system of the day invited abuse, and the men who worked it were the visible face of foreign rule over Israel. That is why people hated them so deeply. Yet these were the men who came to John.
These minor officials were known everywhere for cheating people out of money, and the Jews hated them most of all. The Jews looked on themselves as a free-born people, holding that privilege straight from God Himself... So the Roman tax gatherers were the visible proof of their slavery and of the degraded state of their nation... Besides, they were extremely arbitrary and unjust in the taxes they set. The law was on their side, so they could force people to pay. We may gather, from what John said to them, that they overcharged whenever they had the chance... And yet some of the earliest disciples of both John and our Lord came from their ranks. They had less hypocrisy than men who were thought better; they had no conventional morality, and no false religion to unlearn.
The sum John speaks of was not theirs to set. It came from the top of the system.
Tax collectors took on the taxes the Romans levied, with a set sum payable for each district... The whole system was bad, and collectors could abuse it by demanding more than they should.
A strict Jew would have waved such men away with contempt. John answers them instead, and names the sin of their trade.
The tax collectors also came to be baptized. An ordinary Jew would have dismissed them with contempt, but he answers their question, "Teacher, what should we do? And he said to them, Take no more money than what is appointed to you." Everyone knew they were extortioners; their greed was famous. They robbed the very people whose official tax collectors they were... It is clear that here we are warned against violence and corruption, the two great features of men left to themselves.
(Kelly gives his own rendering; the ESV reads, "Collect no more than you are authorized to do.")
Three groups ask John the same question. Each gets an answer aimed at the exact place where their own will was at work.
The question "What shall we do then?" is common and easy enough. The direction John gives proves whether it is sincere: it strikes at the habitual self-indulgence of each group — the people in general, the tax collectors, and the soldiers. That self-indulgence is the particular form the will of the flesh takes in each.
The instructions differ. One appetite drives every sin John names.
John demanded deeds, not words, as the practical fruits of repentance... By his answers in each case John put his finger on the particular sins that marked the different classes. Yet, though the answers varied, we can see that covetousness caused all the wrongs he dealt with. Of all the evil weeds that grow in the human heart, covetousness is about the deepest-rooted and the hardest to deal with. Like the dandelion, its roots go down a long way.
John speaks to a tax collector about tax collecting. That is how God deals with people.
God thinks of souls. Wherever there is real moral discipline according to His mind, it deals with people as they are. It takes them up in the circumstances of their everyday life. Tax collectors, soldiers, ordinary people — each one hears the word meant for them.
John's work was preparation. A dishonest collector who starts charging the fixed amount is one crooked thing made straight.
Here we see how the crooked were to be made straight... He wanted to wake every class up to their responsibility before God. That way he was preparing them as a people for the coming of their Messiah. This was an appeal to the hearts of the people... He was also getting them ready to receive Christ, who would bring them into the blessing of God.
- Question. "What shall we do?" is easy to ask. John tests the asker by aiming at the one habit his own will protects.
- Trade. Tax collectors worked a system open to abuse, and they overcharged whenever they could. The fixed sum they were allowed became the measure of their honesty.
- Root. People, tax collectors and soldiers each get a different answer. One appetite feeds them all: covetousness, the deepest weed in the human heart.
- Fruit. Repentance shows itself in ordinary work. God takes people up in the circumstances of their everyday life, not out of them.
- Preparation. A straightened conscience is a straightened road. John woke each class to its responsibility, so the nation would be ready to receive its Messiah.
And persons engaged in military service also asked him saying, And we, what should we do? And he said to them, Oppress no one, nor accuse falsely, and be satisfied with your pay.
Soldiers were the last group to bring John the question the crowds and tax collectors had already asked him. His answer was short: three commands aimed at the sins of their trade, and the last one aimed at the heart behind them.
John gave each group its own instruction, drawn from the work they did every day.
God thinks of souls. Wherever there is real moral discipline according to His mind, it deals with men as they are and meets them in the circumstances of their everyday life. Tax collectors, soldiers, people — they each hear their own proper word.
Each command John gives the soldiers meets a temptation built into their job.
He does not talk vaguely to people about sin in the abstract, but directly and pointedly about their own sins. To the tax collectors, whose special mark was extortion in collecting the taxes, he says, "Collect no more than you are authorized to do." To the soldiers he says, "Do not extort money from anyone by threats or by false accusation, and be content with your wages." The Roman soldier's three tendencies — violence, reckless accusation, and looting — he uncovers and rebukes in a dozen words.
An older wording of the verse reads, "Do violence to no man, neither accuse any falsely." That is where the three named faults come from. Another writer places these men in their daily role and points to the command most readers skip.
John warned the Jewish soldiers — the police of that time — not to intimidate or oppress anyone, which is a temptation for men in this line of work. He also warned them against false accusations, and told them to be content with their wages. That last instruction is possibly the least appreciated one. But reality of faith would welcome such instruction.
The last of the three commands reaches the furthest.
Clearly these words warn us against violence and corruption, the two great features of men left to themselves. Besides that, John presses them to be content with their pay. It is remarkable how much the spirit of contentment has to do not only with the happiness of a soul but with its holiness. There is scarcely another thing that so tends to disturb our relationship with God and man as discontent. It makes an individual ripe for any evil. It helps, on a great scale, to the revolutions of nations and other social ruptures. On a smaller scale, it upsets the balance of families and the right attitude of people as nothing else can.
John gave the crowds, the tax collectors and the soldiers different instructions. One problem lies under all three.
John demanded deeds, not words, as the practical fruits of repentance... By his answers in each case John put his finger on the particular sins that marked the different classes. Yet, though the answers varied, we can see that covetousness provoked all the wrongs that he dealt with. Of all the evil weeds that flourish in the human heart covetousness is about the most deep-seated and difficult to deal with: like the dandelion its roots go down to a great depth.
Asking what to do costs nothing.
The question "What shall we do then?" is common and easy enough. What proves whether it is sincere is a direction that strikes at the habitual self-indulgence — the particular form the will of the flesh takes in each one: the people in general, tax collectors, and soldiers.
So what does obedience like this earn?
To those who ask him what they are to do, he prescribes no strict life of self-denial, but practical righteousness and love. Even so, this gives them no claim upon God. As the Lord says later, no creature can make such a claim: "So you also, when you have done all that you were commanded, say, 'We are unworthy servants; we have only done what was our duty.'"
Another writer sets this question beside the question about salvation asked later in Acts.
The people, the tax collectors and the soldiers all answer John's call to repentance. They asked, "What shall we do?" But the question about salvation, and its answer, are very different (Acts 16:30-31).
- Personal. John gives each group its own word. He meets people inside the ordinary work of daily life.
- Precise. John names three faults of the soldier's trade — force, false accusation, and grabbing more — and rebukes them in a dozen words.
- Rooted. All three answers strike at one thing: covetousness, the deepest and most stubborn weed in the human heart.
- Content. Contentment with your pay guards holiness as well as happiness. Discontent unsettles families and helps drive the revolutions of nations.
- No claim. These are fruits of repentance, not payment for salvation. Even full obedience leaves us unworthy servants.