Take heed not to do your alms before men to be seen of them, otherwise ye have no reward with your Father who is in the heavens.
Matthew 6 opens with a warning that changes the audience for everything a disciple does. The eye that matters is not the crowd's, but the Father's. Three questions follow. What is this "righteousness"? Why does display cancel the reward? And what about the earlier call to shine as light?
Older English versions read "alms" in this verse. Which word belongs here shapes the whole passage.
I take the liberty of altering the word "alms" into "righteousness" (v. 1), which a few of the very best authorities support. There are those that differ here as elsewhere, but at the same time internal and spiritual reasons confirm the external grounds. If you use the word "alms" in the first verse, is there not a mere repetition in the next verse? On the other hand, take the word as "righteousness" (so the margin), and all is plain. The context supports it. Notice how in the following verses our Lord divides righteousness into three distinct parts: first, almsgiving; next, prayer; then fasting.
So verse 1 works as a heading. The three examples that follow are not random. They cover the whole field of a life:
This principle then shows itself in three areas — toward others, toward God, and toward ourselves: almsgiving, prayer and fasting. Each of these is, of course, only an illustration of the principle. But divine wisdom chose each illustration, so each one must fit in a special way.
These words do not target obvious sinners. They target the religious performance of the most respected teachers of the day. They follow the Lord's demand that a disciple's righteousness must go beyond theirs.
In Matthew 6 the Lord sets His disciples before the Father in acts of kindness and in devotion. They were to do it all before Him who knows the heart. How completely His words must have swept the ground from under the recognised teachers of the day! He had said, "Unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven" (5:20). The body of chapter 5 showed the hollowness of their teaching; what comes out in chapter 6 exposes their practice.
An objection comes up. The hungry are fed whether or not anyone watched. But the verse does not measure the outcome of the deed.
But one might say, "If someone does good to others the results will remain, even if everybody sees it!" Nobody can deny this, but it is not in question here at all. The Lord Jesus speaks of men who pretend to do something for God. In reality they look for recognition and glory from men as their reward for their alms. So the Lord Jesus says that if men admire them for it, they do have their reward. They shall not receive any reward from God. God does not primarily honour the results — even if they are most blessed — but the motives of our actions. He so much desires our love for Him (and for our needy fellow-men) to be the motive for our deeds.
Kelly puts the same point as a question about dignity: display in almsgiving is treated as a kind of acting.
He lays the utmost stress on the manner and the motive with which the act is done. Display in the doing of alms He compares to sounding a trumpet before the doer... Can anything be conceived baser than a son of God playing a part to win the notice and approval of men?
Those who win the praise of men already have their reward in full. The word "have" carries a force the English hides:
"Have" is compounded with a preposition, which gives it the force of having all they have to expect; they have the whole of it already... This is very solemn. It teaches that if we are tempted to seek the admiration, the honour, or the praise of men, we may be allowed to gain it. But then we have nothing more to expect, since we cannot then have God's favour and blessing.
The alternative is not a smaller reward but a later one.
Their reward is the approval and praise of their fellow men. This they have. It is all in the present, and there is nothing more to come. The one who gives or prays or fasts unknown to men but known to God will receive his reward openly in the day to come.
Earlier in the same sermon the Lord called His disciples the light of the world. The two passages aim at opposite results.
There He was speaking to His disciples who ought to be the salt of the earth and the light of the world. If their good works were seen, God would be glorified by them, and not men. In our paragraph in Matthew 6 the result is just the reverse.
- Righteousness — Verse 1 is the heading. Almsgiving, prayer and fasting are its three branches: others, God, ourselves.
- Audience — The question is not who sees the good deed. It is who it is done for — men, or the Father.
- Motive — God does not primarily honour results, however good, but the motive behind the act.
- Reward — Praise from men is a reward paid in full on the spot; nothing more is coming.
- Light — Disciples are still the light of the world. When good works show, God gets the glory, not the doer.
When therefore thou doest alms, sound not a trumpet before thee, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, so that they may have glory from men. Verily I say unto you, They have their reward.
Jesus has just warned against doing righteousness to be seen; His first test case is giving to the needy, announced with a trumpet blast. The question is not what a person gives but why — and what he keeps when applause is the aim.
The word translated "alms" carries more weight than a coin dropped in a beggar's cup. One writer traces it back to the word for mercy, and points to two examples of alms in Scripture:
The word "alms" comes from the biblical-Greek word eleemosyne. That word comes from the word for "mercy." The New Testament uses it only to mean a good deed or a deed of mercy. In Scripture it never has the lesser meaning of a small gift to a beggar as it has in today's language. Scripture mentions Dorcas' alms-deeds along with her good works (Acts 9:36). And the many alms which the Roman officer Cornelius gave to the poor of the Jews came up as a memorial before God (Acts 10:2, 4).
Jesus places this giving under "righteousness," which strips away any idea that generosity is a bonus:
Here the Lord Himself classes alms-giving as a form of righteousness. That is a significant witness to us. Mercy is not something extra; the ministry of love is itself a debt — a due. A man who withholds from another what he could give him for his need is not even righteous. This also removes the thought of merit from the mercy shown.
The trumpet gives the giver away. It shows he wanted an audience:
If their hearts had been right they would not have drawn attention to what they did. That is what "sounding a trumpet" before them means. It is a fatal thing to seek glory from men.
Notice where the trumpet sounds — in the place of worship and out on the street:
He puts the greatest stress on the manner and the motive behind the act. He compares showing off in giving to sounding a trumpet in front of the giver. He condemns it as what the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets — inside and outside, wherever people meet and pass. Can anything be lower than a son of God playing a part to win the notice and approval of men?
Jesus does not call these givers proud or vain. He picks a harder word:
Those who sound a trumpet before them (v. 2) to get glory from men — the Lord Jesus calls them hypocrites. This is a severe word. It shows how detestable such insincerity is.
They did get paid. That is the sting:
Three times over the Lord says of the mere formalist, "They have received their reward." Their reward is the approval and praise of the people around them. This they have. It is all in the present, and there is nothing more to come. The one who gives or prays or fasts unknown to men but known to God will have an open reward in the day to come.
But look at what is missing from that payment:
It is possible to make a great religious profession with the object of gaining the applause of men. Of such the Lord can say, "They have received their reward." But it is not Christ's reward. It is a reward without Christ, for the Lord says, "My reward is with Me." To enjoy Christ's reward we must wait for Christ's return.
Someone may object: the hungry person eats either way, so why does publicity spoil the gift?
Nobody can deny that, but that is not what is in question here at all. The Lord Jesus speaks of men who pretend to do something for God. In reality they look for recognition and glory from men, as their reward, for their alms... God does not honour the results first — even if they are most blessed — but the motives of our actions.
- Debt, not bonus. Jesus classes giving to the needy as righteousness. Mercy is owed, so it leaves no room for merit.
- Trumpet. The blast exposes the heart. A right heart "would not have drawn attention to what they did."
- Hypocrite. A severe word for a son of God "playing a part to win the notice and approval of men."
- Paid in full. The applause is the wage — "it is all in the present, and there is nothing more to come."
- Reward without Christ. The tragedy is not that they got nothing. What they got has no Christ in it. His reward waits for His return.
But thou, when thou doest alms, let not thy left hand know what thy right hand does;
Here Jesus warns against doing good deeds so that other people will watch. Giving to the needy is His first example, and one hand kept in the dark about the other raises the question of the whole passage: who is meant to see?
Jesus treats giving as a form of righteousness. One writer explains why it makes such a showy display:
Almsgiving is chosen to express what is "righteousness" toward men. So it is distinctly called, and indeed was by the Rabbis also. So we can see how the Lord, in correcting a righteousness done before men, takes this up as a most showy form of it... Giving costs the giver so little. Yet it meets needs so varied and so obvious, and it looks so much like kindness, that it seems like cynicism to question whether the spirit is there.
Jesus uses a picture that sounds impossible, and one writer draws out the comparison inside it:
Everyone is called to see how and where he may help. The Lord does not command the giving of alms. But if we do give alms, we should do it in secret and unnoticed. For this the Lord Jesus uses words that sound impossible for anyone: "Do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing." If my left hand is not to know what my right hand does, how much less should my brothers and the people around me know it!
Both hands belong to one person, so the hiding starts inside. Writers press the point: the one to be shut out is not only the crowd but the giver.
It is not only from others but from ourselves that such doings should be hidden. Self is a subtler evil than men. The action of grace is defiled and becomes a poison to me and a dishonour to God when I think of it with satisfaction. If we did it rightly, it went to our Father for Him to remember, not us.
Another writer draws the same conclusion from the nature of faith, and adds that Jesus assumes the good works are there:
We are never called to display our good works, or even to be aware of them. The Lord's lesson about almsgiving is a perfect picture of the rule for all such things... He takes for granted that there will indeed be good works. True faith in Him will surely have its fruit. But faith is the very opposite of being taken up with self, and certainly of self-satisfaction.
The danger is not limited to frauds. One writer finds it in a good man — Job, who knew his own kindness only too well:
Here lay Job's failure. Satan's blows never touched it, nor the lack of sympathy from his friends, nor even their suspicion. He was a most gracious man, but he thought about it, instead of thinking only of God who worked in him... Part of the lesson was that his left hand should not know what his right hand did. On the contrary, right to the end of his appeal (Job 31), he knew it only too well. But everything changed when he stopped looking at the fruits of grace in himself. He saw God, in true faithfulness, drying up all self-satisfaction.
One writer answers by asking who gets the glory:
This is not contradicted by the earlier words of the Lord Jesus in Matthew 5:16: "In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven." There He was speaking to His disciples. They were to be the salt of the earth and the light of the world. If people saw their good works, they would glorify God, not men. In our paragraph in Matthew 6 the result is just the opposite.
Giving up human applause costs nothing in the end. One writer describes a second hiding place, beyond the closed door of verse 6:
Happy are those who are set free from mere appearances, and from the value that other people may put on their works. They value only the approval of Him who sees in secret. Their reward is certain, a reward that will not perish with man and his world, but will last for ever... There is a secret room we may enter and shut the door (verse 6). There is also a secret place in our souls where we hide the record of such gracious acts. Then none but the Father who sees in secret may know it and reward us openly.
- Secret giving: giving is a showy form of righteousness, so Jesus makes it His first test of a hidden life.
- Secret from men: if one hand does not know, the people around you need not know either. Give, and say nothing.
- Secret from self: the harder hiding is inward. Looking back on our own kindness with satisfaction spoils it.
- Secret and still shining: good works done for our own credit are the opposite of light that makes people glorify the Father.
- Secret and rewarded: the record we leave with the Father, not with ourselves, is the one that lasts for ever.
so that thine alms may be in secret, and thy Father who sees in secret will render [it] to thee.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And when thou prayest, thou shalt not be as the hypocrites; for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and in the corners of the streets so that they should appear to men. Verily I say unto you, They have their reward.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
But *thou*, when thou prayest, enter into thy chamber, and having shut thy door, pray to thy Father who is in secret, and thy Father who sees in secret will render [it] to thee.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
But when ye pray, use not vain repetitions, as those who are of the nations for they think they shall be heard through their much speaking.
The Lord warns against a fault in prayer: treating the number of words as the thing that moves God. Does prayer work by volume — and if not, why pray at all? (Where the ESV reads "heap up empty phrases," older translations say "vain repetitions" — the phrase most of the writers below discuss.)
The fault is not length in itself but the belief that persistence in the same formula earns a hearing. One writer defines it, then points to the first part of the cure:
Vain repetitions were, we suppose, the repeating of the same requests in the same words. People thought there was merit in keeping up their cries like this, and that, as the Lord says, they would be heard for their much speaking… So it is well to consider the twofold, entirely effective antidote. The Lord speaks plainly of one, and just as clearly implies the other. The first is confidence in God: "Your Father knows what you need before you ask him." Knowing this, the soul will be content to leave its petitions to His care and love.
Another commentator quotes Martin Luther. Behind the babbling lies a fear that God is not listening.
Here He criticises the abuse of prayer, when those who are praying use many words and babblings. He calls this a heathen practice — a loose, idle and useless talk of people who think they would otherwise not be heard. The spirit of the worshipper prays. Because he knows that God will hear him, he dares not use such endless, idle talk. The fewer the words, the better the prayer.
The Lord's own example in the garden settles this.
Our Lord does not forbid frequent repetition but "vain repetition." He Himself, blessed be His name, in His agony in the garden, prayed the same thing three times over. This is enough to prove that repetition can be very far indeed from being "vain." One person praying alone, or many Christians gathered together, may press the same matter again and again, earnestly and urgently, when it weighs heavily on the heart. No one can rightly call that "vain repetition."
The line runs between a recited formula and a burdened heart returning to the same request:
We have to tell two things apart. One is the vain repetition of set "formulas" said over and over. The other is the intense, fervent prayer of a believer who in his trouble keeps repeating his request. The Lord Jesus Himself gave His disciples the parable of the widow, to show that they ought always to pray and not lose heart.
The Lord's warning reaches past Israel to the nations — and past them to what would come later:
The Lord had to accuse the Jews of hypocrisy. He had to judge the heathen nations too, for their vain repetitions and much speaking in prayer (see 1 Kings 18:26-29). Beyond that He also warns His disciples against senseless prayers. He knew in advance what would develop in Christianity.
Applied to public prayer, this puts long-winded praying in unflattering company:
A careful reading of the Scriptures will show that long public prayers are not the rule in the Bible. The Lord refers to them with withering disapproval… Solomon said: "Guard your steps when you go to the house of God… God is in heaven and you are on earth. Therefore let your words be few" (Eccl. 5:1-3). So anyone who makes long public prayers puts himself in the same class as the heathen, the scribes, and fools, which is not very complimentary.
The Father already knows the need. So prayer must have another purpose.
Prayer is unnecessary as a way of telling God what we need. But it is not an exercise wasted when the child opens its heart and unburdens itself to its Father who is in heaven. This is the appointed way of relief for the heart of the creature: to pour out its requests to God.
The danger is not only public. It reaches into daily private prayer.
You find, I dare say, that you fall into this trap most often during your habitual prayers, in the mornings and evenings, for example. Suddenly you notice that you are saying the usual round of petitions without thinking, while your thoughts travel in all directions. This fault, if unchecked, will cause your prayers to become "vain repetitions."
- The error — The sin is not many words, but seeking merit in many words, as if God listens only after we wear Him down.
- The exception — Repetition is not the sin. The Lord Himself repeated His prayer three times; a heart pressing one heavy burden is never "vain."
- The reason — The nations prayed long because they doubted God heard them; the believer prays short because he knows God hears.
- The antidote — Confidence: your Father already knows the need. Prayer informs no one; it unburdens the child.
- The watch — The trap is nearest in the daily habit, when the lips run the usual round and the thoughts wander elsewhere.
Be not ye therefore like them, for your Father knows of what things ye have need before ye beg [anything] of him.
Jesus says this right after warning against piling up words in prayer. It takes away the whole reason for it: we pray to a Father who already knows. That raises the obvious question — if He knows before we ask, why ask at all?
The verse opens with a command to be different. The mistake it corrects is thinking that many words move God. One commentator quotes Luther:
"Here He criticises the abuse of prayer, when those who are praying use many words and babbling. He calls this a heathen practice — loose, idle and useless talk, by people who think God would not hear them otherwise. The spirit of the worshipper prays. Because he knows that God will hear him, he dares not use such endless, idle talk. The fewer the words, the better the prayer."
Jesus targets empty repetition, not repetition itself. Older translations call this "vain repetition," and the word "vain" matters:
Our Lord does not forbid frequent repetition, but "vain repetition." He Himself, blessed be His name, prayed the same thing three times over in His agony in the garden. That is enough to prove that some repetition is very far indeed from being "vain." A person praying alone, or many Christians gathered together, may press and press again a matter that weighs heavily on the heart. They may do it earnestly, fervently and without giving up, and no one can charge them with "vain repetition."
The reason not to babble is a relationship — "your Father." One writer shows what human parents cannot combine:
He is marked by wisdom, love and power — a perfect combination. For instance, a mother might bend over her sick and dying child in the tenderest love. She loves the child, but she lacks the power to restore the child to health. Again, a father may have an only son. He is rich. He can give his son every luxury and satisfy every whim the young man may have — and in the end ruin the child for life. He has love and power, but lacks wisdom. But in the case of our heavenly Father there is love, power and wisdom.
If the Father already knows, prayer is not an information service. Its purpose lies elsewhere.
Is prayer then unnecessary, a useless exercise? It is unnecessary as a way of telling God what we lack. But it is not an exercise wasted when the child opens its heart and unburdens itself to its Father in heaven. It is the appointed way of relief for the heart of the creature to pour out its requests to God.
There is a second reason. Prayer does something in us, not only for us:
That our Father knows what we need is one side. The other side is that He wants us to keep realising our own weakness and dependence on Him. He wants to keep us in the enjoyment of communion with Him. Nothing helps this more than personal, confidential prayer.
The verse says the Father knows what things you need. That is a narrower word than we usually mean when we pray.
"YOUR Father!" If God is our Father, we are blessed indeed... One who knows what we need. What we want is another matter. A child in a family gets its needs supplied. But if the three-year-old wants to play with his father's sharp razor, his father refuses him. God is as loving in His refusals as in His answers.
The danger of empty praying is not limited to the people Jesus described. One writer points to two things that cure it, the second being the prayer that starts in the next verse:
Even the Jews were not free from the same tendency... and certain professing Christians have repeated the very evil the Lord condemns here. Even more could be said, for almost everyone is tempted this way. So it is worth looking at the twofold, wholly effective cure. The Lord speaks plainly of one, and just as clearly implies the other. The first is confidence in God: "Your Father knows what you need before you ask him." Knowing this, the soul will be content to leave its petitions to His care and love. The second is that prayer must be divinely taught: "Pray then like this."
- Knows — Our prayers tell the Father nothing new. He knows every need before we speak a word.
- So — Because He knows, length and repetition buy nothing. The fewer the words, the better the prayer; but earnest pressing of a real burden is never "vain."
- Still — Prayer is still the appointed relief for the heart. It keeps us aware of our weakness and in communion with Him.
- Need — He knows our need, not our wants. His refusals carry the same love as His answers, because He alone joins love, power and wisdom.
- Taught — Confidence in the Father is one half of the cure for empty praying; the prayer He goes on to teach is the other.
Thus therefore pray *ye* Our Father who art in the heavens, let thy name be sanctified,
Jesus has just warned His disciples not to pile up empty words when they pray. Now He gives them the pattern instead. It starts with who God is, not with what we want.
One writer ties this pattern back to the warning in verse 7:
In Matthew 6:9-13 we have a pattern for prayer. When the Lord gave this example He was not asking His own to repeat the prayer parrot-fashion. The Lord guards against this in verse 7 by telling us not to use empty repetitions as the nations do.
Calling God "Father" was a real advance on what had gone before, though not yet the full Christian position:
"Our Father in heaven." This is a distinct advance on anything known of God before. The patriarchs had fellowship with Him as the Almighty. Israel knew Him as Jehovah. But the coming of the only Son into the world has brought out the sweet name of Father… Even so, Matthew 6:9 falls far short of John 20:17. There we hear the risen One announcing the fruits of His great victory: "I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God."
That name also limits who can use it. One writer contrasts the tax collector, who came to God on completely different ground:
This prayer does not have the whole human race in view, and it was not spoken to everyone alike. It does not express the state, wants, and feelings of everyone who has some desire after God, or a fear of coming wrath. So the tax collector stood far off. He would not even lift up his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast, realising his sin and unworthiness. He does not dare to say, "Father," or "Our Father in heaven."… "God, be merciful to me, a sinner!" was the right and fitting cry from his broken heart.
The opening line packs three distinct thoughts into a few words:
The first section of the prayer has three subjects. First, "Our Father" indicates the dignity of His prime place, yet at the same time His tender care. "In heaven" shows His supremacy, high above all creation. "Hallowed be Your name" is the reminder of His sublime holiness, as set apart from all others.
The first petition reaches into the life of the person praying:
"Name" in Scripture always expresses what God is as revealed. So, in connection with the Father, it is the truth of what God is in that relationship. When we desire that His name should be hallowed, we ask that it be sanctified in us, by us, and by all who have the privilege of calling on God by this precious title. We ask for an answering response in us to His holiness in this relationship. How often we have said this prayer with little thought of what it involved! We said it even while we, as His children, were dishonouring His name as our Father by our unholy ways and associations!
Placed first, it becomes the root from which everything else in the prayer grows:
"Hallowed be Your name" is the great foundation of all, the first and strongest feeling of a renewed mind.
God's concerns come before ours in this prayer, and that order is meant to reshape our own asking:
How often we put ourselves and our interests first in our prayers. It was not so that the Lord taught His disciples. He taught them to put God first. They were to pray that His name might be hallowed, and then to reach out in their desires to the furthest bounds of the earth… The heart first reaches up to the sacred glory of God's name, and broadens out to include every dwelling of man. Then we may ask for our daily needs.
Commentators here agree that this prayer was not given as a fixed form for the church age, and they point to what is missing from it:
Examine the Lord's prayer closely, and nothing strikes the mind so strongly as the absence of any mention of the name of Christ… And our Lord in this passage says plainly that up to that moment His disciples had not asked anything of the Father in His name. This was at the end of His time on earth.
Yet the same writer insists its petitions remain ours to pray:
The death and resurrection of our Lord and Saviour have brought us into a new place, and into the known possession and enjoyment of higher blessings. Even so, we can go back in the power of the Spirit, take up many of its petitions and present them before God.
- Relationship first. Prayer begins with who God is to you — "Father." The coming of the Son brought that name out, and only His disciples could use it.
- Height second. "In heaven" sets the Father high above all creation, while "Our Father" holds His tender care.
- Holiness third. His "name" is all He has revealed Himself to be; asking it be hallowed asks that His holiness be answered in us and by us.
- Order fourth. God's glory leads, our needs follow — the reverse of how we usually pray.
- Use fifth. Given as a pattern, not a chant; Christ's name is absent from it, yet its petitions can still be taken up in the Spirit.
let thy kingdom come, let thy will be done as in heaven so upon the earth;
Jesus has taught His disciples how to address God. Now the prayer looks outward, to God's rule and God's will reaching earth. Two questions follow: whose kingdom is meant, and when will the answer come?
The prayer has a clear order. God's side comes first, and man's blessing turns on it.
There are six petitions. The first three have to do with God; His name, His kingdom, His will. The second three have to do with us; our bread, our debts, our deliverance. The heavenly Father and His claims must be first, and our needs second. The blessing of men on earth depends upon His will being done on earth, and that will only come to pass when His kingdom is established.
The verse does not say "Christ's kingdom." Matthew's Gospel keeps two spheres apart.
"Your kingdom come." It is not exactly Christ's kingdom, but the Father's. Read Matthew's Gospel with care, and you see the Father's kingdom marked off in Scripture from the kingdom of the Son of Man. So in Matthew 13:41-43 the Son of Man sends out His angels. They gather out of His kingdom everything that causes sin and all law-breakers… then the righteous will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their Father. At the end of this age the Lord will take the world as His kingdom, and must have evil purged from it, sooner or later, by His judicial power. But the Father's kingdom is another and heavenly sphere where only the righteous shine.
The second half of the verse makes heaven the measure. It also shows where the trouble lies.
But it does not satisfy the heart that the Father's will should be done in heaven only. So the third petition runs: "Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven." When the Father's kingdom comes, this will be the moral answer to it, if I may put it that way, though in a lower sphere. Instead of meeting contempt and resistance, the Father's will is yet to be the guide and guarantee of all blessing in what was still a rebellious province. The disciples were to pray that it might be done on earth. Nothing like it was there yet, except in the ways of Him who was turning their desires toward God.
Kelly's last words point to one exception standing in front of the disciples.
"Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven" goes further still in its full accomplishment. Only once has earth seen this, in the life and death of the Lord Jesus. He alone could say, "I glorified you on earth, having accomplished the work that you gave me to do" (John 17:4). He alone on earth has done the Father's will perfectly. Nor will it be done in the Millennium, except by Himself as the King who will reign in righteousness.
The Millennium is Christ's thousand-year reign on earth. Even that, one writer holds, is not the last stage.
This petition reaches beyond the Millennium. The Father's kingdom will not be fully established until the new heavens and the new earth appear… and the Son of Man will not deliver up the kingdom to Him who is God and Father until He has subdued every enemy, so that God may be all in all (1 Corinthians 15:21-28). Everything here below is as wrong as it could be. We know it, so we long for this blessed outcome and pray for it.
This prayer is not neutral. It reaches the patch of earth you stand on.
How often we put ourselves and our interests first in our prayers. It was not like this that the Lord taught His disciples. He taught them to put God first. They were to pray that His name might be hallowed. Then their desires were to stretch to the furthest bounds of the earth: that every evil imagination might be overthrown, every evil work judged, every will subdued to God's will, and the whole earth filled with the glory of God. Then the heart has reached up to the sacred glory of God's name and widened to take in every home of man. Then we may ask for our daily needs… with a sense of the blessedness of His will — a will we ourselves have determined to live under. Otherwise our prayer that His will might be done on earth would be glaring hypocrisy.
- Order — Name, kingdom, will come before bread, forgiveness and deliverance. God's claims lead; our blessing follows.
- Kingdom — The prayer asks for the Father's kingdom, a heavenly sphere, distinct from the Son of Man's future rule over the world.
- Standard — Heaven sets the measure. Earth is the rebellious province where that obedience is still missing.
- Precedent — One life on earth has already answered this prayer: the Lord Jesus, who finished the work His Father gave Him.
- Reach — The full answer waits for the new heavens and the new earth. Until then, the one who prays it must live under that will himself.
give us to-day our needed bread,
The prayer the Lord gave His disciples turns here from God's name, kingdom and will to the one praying. The first thing asked for is a day's food. Much of the teaching in this short line hangs on that order, and on the odd word translated "daily."
The prayer falls into two halves, and this verse opens the second. One writer sets out the division and what each half is for:
This is not the prayer of a sinner seeking mercy. It is the prayer of people who already stand in a relationship with God, and who deal with Him directly as Father about their need. The petitions divide the prayer into two parts. The first three ask for the glory of God. The last four express the creature's dependence. It is beautiful to see the spirit of worship in the way the Name, the kingdom and the will of God come first… The whole prayer shows the three main thoughts of true prayer: God's glory, and the creature's need — first in earthly things, then in spiritual things.
So we confess the body's everyday need first, and the soul's need after that.
The English word "daily" does not carry the full force of the original. One writer says the word seems made for this petition, and that its sense limits what we may ask:
The word "daily" is a very poor way to put the original term into English. The Greek word epiousios means our "sufficient" bread — a word that seems to have been made for this very idea, as opposed to having more than we need. We cannot ask for more than enough without slighting the wisdom of the Lord. One ought not to look for more, even from the Lord of heaven and earth. He tells me to ask for bread enough for each day's needs.
The same writer connects the petition with contentment:
Give us today our sufficient (or, necessary) bread. So they are taught to begin by confessing dependence for ordinary needs, just as the apostle called us to be content with food and clothing.
"This day" sets the limit of the request. It leaves tomorrow out:
We have to do with God today. We may leave tomorrow to Him. He is our God, our Father today, He will be the same tomorrow when we meet it. The Lord did not teach His disciples to pray about tomorrow, but "Give us this day our daily bread."
Asking only for today shows how much we lean on a secured income:
Many a saint of God would almost break his heart if he thought his income would come to an end in twelve months' time. But this prayer means that we look to Him, and have no other resource for today's needs.
Every petition in the second half is plural, and that shapes who is in view when we pray for bread:
A sense of dependence, of failure, and of weakness stands out plainly in them. The needs we feel are seen as the needs of others in the same family of faith, who are therefore joined with us in every petition. The prayer is a family prayer all the way through. It expresses a shared interest, and no one pulls out of it to walk alone. How well we would be cared for if everyone remembered everyone in this way, and the family tie held the whole family together.
Commentators differ on how far the petition reaches. One writer says it covers the soul's need as well as the body's, and points to the manna — the bread God gave Israel each morning in the desert:
It is not stretching the request for daily bread to let it include a spiritual meaning too… In both ways the supply must be constant. The manna must be fresh every morning, and freshly gathered as the morning comes: hoarded, it breeds worms and stinks. There is no release from this dependence. It only makes us feel the love that keeps supplying us, and it keeps us near the gracious hand of the Almighty… it is not meanness but love that deals with us this way.
For anyone who can walk into a shop, the petition can feel like a formality. It was not framed for them alone:
It is easy to have a well-filled purse, and enter a well-stocked shop, and buy what we need. It is quite another thing to be like the persecuted believers… for whom every single meal was an anxious question of where it would come from. What deep comfort to have the ear of One who loves, who knows, who cares, who is almighty, and who holds the hearts of all people in His power.
- Order — God's name, kingdom and will come first; only then do we ask for anything, and the first thing asked for is a meal.
- Enough — the word rendered "daily" carries the sense of sufficient or necessary bread, not extra; we ask only for what the day needs.
- Today — the request stops at this day, leaving tomorrow to the Father we will meet there unchanged.
- Us — the petition is plural throughout, a family asking together, no one praying for himself alone.
- Daily — like manna that spoils when hoarded, God renews the supply each morning, and that keeps us near the hand that gives it. That continual dependence is love, not meanness.
and forgive us our debts, as we also forgive our debtors,
At the heart of the model prayer the Lord puts a request about debt. He ties God's answer to the way we treat those who owe us. Two questions follow: what forgiveness is in view, and how does our own forgiving set its measure?
The word "debts" pictures sin as an unpaid account with God. The parables use the same picture, and there the debtor cannot pay anything at all:
When Scripture speaks of our debts being forgiven (see Matthew 6:12; Matthew 18:23–35; Luke 7, etc.), it uses the word in its wider sense, as it always does. These are unpaid debts, trespasses or sins. God forgives them, as we have seen, because Christ has died and made atonement. In those parables we are not only debtors. We are bankrupt beyond hope, without a penny in the pound to offer... So we go free, not because God cancels what we owe, but because a competent Substitute bore the penalty for us — one His own love provided.
Notice who is praying. That changes what the request means:
One aspect of forgiveness here needs careful thought. These are not sinners speaking to God, but disciples — children to their Father. The gospel tells the sinner of forgiveness full and free through the Saviour's blood, and nothing the sinner does has any part in it. In Matthew 6:12 we have the Father's government of His family, an altogether different principle.
Reading this line as the gospel would make pardon depend on our behaviour:
The question here is not the full forgiveness we receive by believing the gospel. It is God's watchful, constant oversight of His children's ways. This has nothing at all to do with the poor sinner's need. It is plain that the gospel offers no forgiveness of sins on the condition that we forgive others. Grace gives remission of sins on faith in the Lord Jesus. But if you — a Christian — fail to walk in a forgiving spirit with others, God is displeased with you. You then lose your communion with Him, and He will not restore it until you truly judge yourself for the wrong.
"As we forgive" sets the measure, and our own forgiving is often held back:
Our own forgiveness of others sets the measure of the forgiveness we pray for — "as we forgive our debtors." But think what we are: our hearts are subtle, we hold things back without knowing it, and we often find it hard to give free, full and absolute forgiveness to those who have sinned against us. From this petition, then, we could never know whether we may rejoice in knowing the full pardon of our sins against God.
The clause is not a bargain offered to a hard heart. The ESV puts the forgiving in the past — "as we also have forgiven our debtors" — so it describes someone who has already let the offence go:
This is remarkable, because it assumes someone who already has a forgiving spirit. No one truly has this except the person God's grace has forgiven. And God does hold His children to this. How can a man who does not forgive another claim to enjoy the forgiveness of his own sins before God?
Under God's government, the way I treat others comes back to me:
Our attitude to others has a serious bearing on ourselves. This passage surely views forgiveness from the standpoint of God's government, and it is on the lines of government that the matter becomes very serious. Do I forgive? Then I can call on God to forgive me. Am I hard and unforgiving? I shall reap what I sow.
Commentators differ on how far this petition fits the believer. One answer turns on who is addressed:
The simple fact that it is addressed to the Father removes every difficulty. Those who plainly take the place of relationship are asking a Father for His forgiveness... These trespasses cost us communion, and bring chastening to restore us. We must forgive, if we are to be forgiven.
- Debt: Sin is a debt we cannot pay. God clears it because a Substitute bore the penalty, not because He waived the account.
- Family: The one praying already says "Father." A child is seeking his Father's face, not a sinner seeking pardon.
- Government: What is at stake is not eternity but communion. A Father watches His children, is grieved, chastens, and restores.
- Measure: "As we forgive" makes our treatment of others the gauge. An unforgiving child cannot walk happily with God.
- Fruit: The forgiving spirit is assumed, not bargained for. Only the forgiven can forgive, and God holds His children to it.
and lead us not into temptation, but save us from evil.
The last request of the Lord's prayer turns from bread and forgiveness to danger. Two questions press on any reader: why would God lead anyone into temptation, and is the familiar closing line about kingdom, power and glory part of the verse at all?
The word does not mean an invitation to sin. It means a full testing that brings out whatever is inside a person.
So it was right for the disciples, aware of their own powerlessness, to ask not to be led into circumstances that would try them so severely. No such prayer is or could be in the Bible as, Lead us not into sin; for this would be to impute moral evil to God. The temptation here was putting a person fully to the proof. If there were unjudged evil in the heart, it would come out, to his humiliation.
There is a difference between God leading us into a trial and our walking into one on our own initiative.
This is not temptation to sin. James says, "Let no one say when he is tempted, 'I am being tempted by God,' for God cannot be tempted with evil, and he himself tempts no one." Satan tempts man to evil, and we have an evil nature that responds to it... God may lead us into trial, as He did Abraham. But the Lord said to Peter, "Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation." If we push into trial on our own, we are bound to fall. But if the Lord leads us into it, He will sustain us.
Asking not to be tested might sound like doubting God's care. It is the opposite.
This cry will always suit us while we are in this world. We feel our utter weakness, and we know we could not stand for one moment in temptation if left to ourselves. There is no conflict between such a prayer and complete confidence in God. We will trust God in the same measure as we have learned that in our flesh there dwells no good thing. Afraid of ourselves, we shall always cry, Lead us not into temptation, and then long to be delivered from evil. This, indeed, was the request of the Lord Himself for His own — "I do not ask that you take them out of the world, but that you keep them from the evil one." (John 17:15.)
The second half of the petition asks for something different from the first. Commentators differ on whether it means evil in general or the evil one himself.
But deliver us from evil in general, if not from the evil one in particular. This was not the sifting, or temptation, prayed against in the clause before. Grace may put us through that for our good, as we see in Peter. This is the power of the enemy drawing us into sin against God. The proper desire was to be kept from the evil, or, if one fell, to be restored from it. Grace in no case fails, if a disciple sadly did.
Jesus went into the wilderness to face the tempter. He then taught His followers to pray the opposite for themselves.
Misguided men have sought the wilderness to escape the power of evil. Jesus sought it with the express intention of meeting the evil one. He alone was perfect within. He Himself was led up to meet the tempter, yet He taught His disciples to pray, "Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil [or, the evil one]."
Everyone agrees the familiar ending does not belong in Luke's version of the prayer.
I will not go into the doxology that ends the prayer in the received text of Matthew. Everybody agrees in leaving it out of Luke, and it is well known that its authority, even in Matthew, is doubtful, to say the least. Probably it was an addition derived from church usage in the fourth century, or perhaps earlier.
Dennett adds that whether those words are Scripture or not, "they undoubtedly express truth that all Christians delight to acknowledge and to turn into praise."
Short as it is, the prayer covers the ground — and it was given at a particular point in God's dealings.
It takes into account both the divine interests and human necessities, physical and spiritual. It speaks of the realities of today, while looking onward to the final outcome of all the ways of God in the new heavens and the new earth... It was the Lord's gracious provision for believers who lived before redemption was accomplished, who were therefore not in the blessed condition of having their consciences once for all purged from sins.
- Proof, not sin. The prayer is not "keep me from sinning by Your hand" — God tempts no one. It asks not to be put through a sifting that would expose what is unjudged within.
- Weakness owned. We pray it because we could not stand a moment if left to ourselves. The more we distrust ourselves, the more we trust God.
- Entering versus being led. Walking into trial on our own ends in a fall. When God leads us into it, He sustains us.
- Deliverance sought. Behind the testing stands the enemy. The prayer asks to be kept from the evil, or, if we fall, to be restored.
- Christ's example reversed. He went into the wilderness to meet the tempter because He alone was perfect within; He taught us to ask not to go there.
For if ye forgive men their offences, your heavenly Father also will forgive you [yours],
The Lord had just taught His disciples to pray, "and forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors." Now He goes back to that one request and explains it. His words raise a hard question. Does a Christian's standing before God depend on how he treats the person who wronged him?
The Lord is speaking here to people who already know God as their Father. That changes what "forgive" means in these verses.
Here we find an aspect of forgiveness that needs careful thought. It is not sinners speaking to God, but disciples — children speaking to their Father. The gospel tells the sinner of forgiveness full and free, because of the Saviour's blood. Nothing the sinner can do has anything to do with it. In Matthew 6:12 we have the Father's government of His family. That is an entirely different principle. He expects all His children to show a merciful spirit toward everybody. His own attitude toward people is to shape ours. "He makes His sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust" (Matthew 5:45). Those who do not cultivate this generous spirit of grace cannot walk happily with the Father.
So what does an unforgiving believer lose? The answer turns on which kind of forgiveness is in view.
Verses 14 and 15 show us that He is not speaking of eternal forgiveness, but governmental. If a believer forgives others, he may count on the Father's forgiveness. When he honestly confesses his failure, the Father restores him to the joy of communion with Himself. If he does not forgive others, he cannot enjoy communion with the Father. His very attitude forbids it.
Mixing this daily forgiveness up with the once-for-all work of the cross damages both. One commentator sets them side by side, using the picture of washing defiled feet.
Sin that we indulge does interrupt communion with our God and Father. It needs the advocacy of Christ to cleanse defiled feet, by the washing of water with the word. His blood keeps its atoning power untouched. But the Spirit applies the word in answer to Christ on high, and the one who sinned repents in dust and ashes… We need and have both. We cannot do without the water from first to last, just as we have had the blood once for all. Whoever ignores, or worse still denies, this twofold provision of grace undermines redemption and muddles the truth of God.
The refusal to forgive is not one fault among many. It is a reversal of the whole ground the believer stands on.
Now the Lord singles out an unforgiving spirit as intolerable to our Father in His daily government of His sons. And no wonder. It is to go back from grace to law, from Christ to wretched self. So, as in the prayer, He urges grace toward those who may have hurt us, however painfully. He urges love too, and He commends it to us with a tender warning. Where love is missing in practice, that is hateful in His eyes.
These words sit inside the Lord's teaching on prayer. A nursed grievance and a praying life cannot run together.
If we do not forgive, we are not forgiven as children. Communion with God our Father is suspended, and we grieve His Spirit within us. To carry on as though all were well is presumption. It is insincere, and it displeases God. True prayer is communion with God. It is speaking to Him with the confidence of a heart that does not condemn us. "And whatever we ask we receive from Him, because we keep His commandments and do what pleases Him" (1 John 3:22).
Forgiveness here is a habit to grow, not a feeling to wait for. Failing to practise it costs us something in ourselves.
We who profess to be Christians have a very important lesson to learn from this passage. It is the urgent need to cultivate a forgiving spirit. If we fail to act in grace, we are in danger of losing the sense of grace in our own souls. How dreadful when a man forgiven all his sins drags a fellow sinner before the judge over a little money!
- Grace received. The sinner's pardon rests on the blood of Christ alone, and on nothing the sinner does. That question is already settled for everyone the Lord is addressing here.
- Grace governed. These verses deal with the Father's daily government of His own children. Commentators call this governmental forgiveness, not eternal forgiveness.
- Grace refused. An unforgiving spirit is a move backwards, from grace to law, from Christ to self.
- Grace forfeited. The cost is not lost salvation. It is broken communion, a grieved Spirit, and prayer offered as though all were well.
- Grace practised. The remedy is to cultivate a forgiving spirit. Fail to act in grace, and we risk losing our own sense of the grace shown to us.
but if ye do not forgive men their offences, neither will your Father forgive your offences.
Jesus had just taught His disciples to pray, "forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors." Now He returns to that one line and presses it twice — first as a promise, then as a warning. The question is obvious: does entry into God's family depend on how we treat those who wrong us?
The people listening were already followers of Jesus. That fact shapes how we read the warning.
The forgiveness spoken of in verses 14 and 15 is connected with the debts of verse 12. The heavenly Father governs His children in holiness, and an unforgiving spirit comes under His discipline. If someone wrongs us and we refuse to forgive, we will miss God's governmental forgiveness. This is not a question of forgiveness for eternity. The Lord was speaking to disciples, and for them that great matter was already settled.
Here "governmental" means the Father's day-by-day rule over His own family. Scripture keeps two kinds of forgiveness apart, and they work on different timescales.
There is a difference between God's forgiveness in the sense of not counting sin against us, as in Romans 4, and governmental forgiveness — for us, the Father's. Matthew 6:14-15 speaks in a general way about a state of soul, so it might apply to both. But the difference is very real. Justifying forgiveness (unknown in the Old Testament) is complete once and for ever, as Hebrews 9 and 10 show — "no longer any consciousness of sins". Fatherly forgiveness, though, we may need daily. We are not really called to ask for it. We confess our sins, and we get it.
A refusal to forgive is not one fault among many. It reverses the very principle the disciple lives by.
Now the Lord names one thing our Father will not tolerate in His daily government of His sons: an unforgiving spirit. And no wonder. It means going back from grace to law, from Christ to wretched self. So, as in the prayer, He urges grace toward those who wrong us, however deeply they hurt us.
What is lost is not sonship but the enjoyment of it. The closed heart shuts its own door.
Verses 14 and 15 show us that He is not speaking of eternal forgiveness, but governmental. If a believer forgives others, he can count on the Father's forgiveness. When he honestly confesses his failure, the Father restores him to the joy of communion with Himself. If he does not forgive others, he cannot truly enjoy that communion. His own attitude forbids it.
There is a slower damage too. Refusing grace to others dulls our own sense of the grace God gave us.
Without doubt, we who profess to be Christians have an important lesson to learn from this scripture. We urgently need to cultivate a forgiving spirit. If we fail to act in grace, we are in danger of losing the sense of grace in our own souls.
The wrongs we brood over often look smaller in the cold light of day. And the grudge hurts the one who holds it.
You who keep up your resentment, and brood over the offences (often exaggerated if not imaginary) of others, beware. If that is you, then though you are a Christian, you completely fail in the duty that should mark you, as unlike Christ as you can be. Need one say that you are as unhappy as you are hard? Does it mean nothing to your proud spirit — and pride like this degrades a Christian — that "neither will your Father forgive your trespasses"? Do not trifle with such a bad and proud state. Stop grieving the Holy Spirit of God who sealed you. Do not let the sun go down on your anger, and give no opportunity to the devil.
Forgiving is not squeezed out of us by threat. It is learned by looking at how God dealt with us.
As one brought to God, I have learned what God is in His ways of grace (Ephesians 4:31-32): "Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice. Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you." Did God come and shout against you in justice? He sent His Son to give Himself for you, and has forgiven you. There is a man who wronged me. I am going to forgive him, as God forgave me. And if I am near enough to God to do it, I will show out what we have been learning. That is the joy of our souls.
- Family, not entry. Jesus spoke to disciples whose eternal standing was already settled. What is at stake is the Father's dealing with His children day by day.
- Two forgivenesses. Forgiveness that justifies is complete once and for ever. A Father's forgiveness is a daily need, and honest confession receives it.
- Grace reversed. An unforgiving spirit is a step back from grace to law, from Christ to self — which is why the Father will not let it pass.
- Communion blocked. The hard heart forbids the very restoration it needs, and it loses its own sense of grace.
- The cure. Look first at what God in Christ forgave you. Forgiving others then flows from that, and becomes a joy instead of a duty.
And when ye fast, be not as the hypocrites, downcast in countenance; for they disfigure their faces, so that they may appear fasting to men verily I say unto you, They have their reward.
Fasting is the third act of righteousness the Lord examines in this chapter. Like giving and praying, it can aim at two very different audiences. The question He presses is not whether His disciples fast, but whose eyes they fast for.
Commentators note a deliberate order in Matthew 6. Each act faces a different direction, and fasting turns inward.
In verses 1 to 4 we have seen righteousness toward men (including giving); in verses 5 to 15 prayer toward God; now in verses 16 to 18 the subject is fasting. This one faces self. It is personal self-denial, for true self-denial is personal through and through, not for display at all… It might be done so that a person can give his own time and energy to some particular service for the Lord. If so, why should I want anyone else to know it besides the Lord?
Why does prayer stand in the middle?
Prayer holds the middle place between giving to the poor and fasting. It is the godly and holy basis that guards the other two, binding them up with faith against mere outward form.
Going without food is the body agreeing with what the soul already feels.
I believe there is a real value in fasting that few of us know much about. Suppose that on special occasions calling for personal prayer, someone joined fasting to that prayer. I have no doubt he would feel the blessing of it. Fasting expresses a humbling of spirit… In fasting the body shows its sympathy with what the spirit is passing through. It is a way of expressing our desire to be low before God, in the attitude of humiliation.
Behind the act lies a verdict on self.
In fasting the Lord touches that inward putting to death which expresses the realization of what man is in the sight of God… Fasting treats the body's earthly desires as if they did not exist. It does not minister to self — an unnatural condition which implies a fallen nature. You can do nothing with it but leave it out.
Their gloomy look was not something sorrow forced on them. They arranged it for an audience.
The hypocrites put on a sad face to look as godly as possible, and to make people see how earnest they are. But as we have already seen in verses 2 and 5, our God and Father gives us no reward when we seek it through a mere show of godliness and recognition from men.
Israel's history shows how far the abuse can go.
In fact, in Israel, where the outward religion of the Pharisees marked the nation, people turned fasting into its very opposite. They made it accredit self instead of discrediting self. It brought self forward instead of setting it aside… The Lord puts an end to this. He makes fasting a thing to be done before the Father and not before men — before the eyes of Him who sees in secret.
The Lord does not say the hypocrites get nothing. He says they get what they aimed at, and the account is then closed.
Three times over the Lord says of the mere formalist, "They have received their reward." Their reward is the approval and praise of their fellows. This they have. It is all in the present, and there is nothing more to come. The one who gives or prays or fasts unknown to men but known to God will be rewarded openly in the day to come.
The verse begins "when you fast," not "if" — yet He lays down no rule about it.
The Lord does not so much command fasting as bring it, like prayer, under the Christian principle of having to do with our Father in secret. It falls under the individual life of faith. Yet He does sanction and approve of it when practised in that way… He also hints at its value for spiritual power. Godly men have always felt, and must feel, how fitting it is for humbling the soul before God, when public or private need called for humiliation.
The prophets applied the same test long before.
Fasting is not merely external. Isaiah asks, "Is it to bow down his head like a reed, and to spread sackcloth and ashes under him?" If fasting is just a matter of food, posture and dress, it is pure hypocrisy. Sadly, there is a great deal of this.
- Self. Giving faces others, prayer faces God, fasting faces self. It is self-denial, and self-denial is private by nature.
- Secret. The Lord neither commands nor forbids it. He moves it out of public view, under the eye of the Father who sees in secret.
- Sincere. The body joins what the spirit already feels. Strip that away and only food, posture and clothing are left — and that is hypocrisy.
- Self-display. The Pharisees turned the one act meant to discredit self into a display of it — the very opposite of its purpose.
- Settled. Applause is a real reward, paid in full now, with nothing left owing. Hidden fasting waits for a reward given openly in the day to come.
But *thou*, [when] fasting, anoint thy head and wash thy face,
Fasting had become a public performance. An unwashed, downcast look told everyone what was going on. Against that, the Lord tells the one who fasts to keep to the ordinary routine of grooming. So what did anointing and washing mean, and why hide an act of self-denial?
This instruction closes a set of three. Giving to the poor, prayer and fasting all come under the same heading that opens the chapter.
We still have to weigh our Lord's words on fasting. They are the third part of His teaching on "righteousness" (not "alms") in the first verse of the chapter. Prayer holds the middle place between giving and fasting. It is the godly and holy ground that guards the other two, tying them to faith and keeping them from empty form.
Oil on the head was not a religious rite here. It belonged to normal daily care, and dropping it was how people signalled grief.
The word for anointing the body after washing is commonly used for the eastern practice of anointing the body, or parts of it, for comfort, appearance, friendliness, healing, or burial. For everyday grooming compare Ruth 3:3; 2 Samuel 12:20; 2 Chronicles 28:15; Matthew 6:17. Skipping it was a sign of mourning: 2 Samuel 14:2; Daniel 10:3.
So the command comes to this: look like any other day.
Behind the plain appearance something real is going on. Fasting deals with self, not just with food.
Fasting means setting self aside. Not only the self tied to the evil within, but the claims of nature itself are set aside, so that we may have to do with God. It recognises that there are spiritual matters in hand of deeper importance than even the body's rightful claims… He is "anointed" and "washed." His heart is right and his life is right. He does not look "gloomy," because the joy of Heaven fills his heart here on earth, and the Father who sees in secret rewards him.
Commentators link it with special times of prayer, and with the body sharing what the spirit feels:
If someone joined fasting to prayer on the special occasions that call for particular personal prayer, I have no doubt the blessing of it would be felt. Fasting is one of those things in which the body shares in what the spirit is going through. It is a way of expressing our desire to be low before God, in an attitude of humbling ourselves.
An act meant to lower self can raise it instead. That is what had happened in Israel.
In fact, in Israel, where the outward religion of the Pharisees marked the nation, fasting was twisted into its very opposite. It was used to commend self instead of discrediting self. It pushed self forward instead of setting self aside… He puts an end to this by making fasting something done before the Father and not before people: before the eyes of Him who sees in secret.
Sincere people are not exempt, which is why the instruction is so specific:
But the flesh can take advantage even of what is meant to put the body down. So the Lord tells us to take steps not to appear to others to be fasting, rather than allow any display. A true Christian would shrink from putting on a false appearance. Still, the devil would trick him into it, unless he watches himself closely before God.
Notice what the verse does not say. It regulates the manner of fasting, not whether you must fast.
As already mentioned, the Lord Jesus neither gives a commandment to fast, nor does He forbid it here. He leaves fasting as a personal exercise of the heart but gives the warning not to do it in a hypocritical manner (as with giving alms and praying).
If it is done at all, the manner should match the freedom:
At least, it should not make me miserable looking, as though it was a burden to miss a meal! If fasting is willingly done, it should certainly be cheerfully done. If done honestly for the Father's glory, the Father will reward it.
Hiding it from people does not hide it from God. He does not say when or how He will reward.
The Lord Jesus does not mention when and how the Father will reward, but we know that God rewards those who seek Him (Hebrews 11:6).
- Third: Giving, prayer and fasting form one set under "righteousness." Prayer stands in the middle and guards the other two from becoming empty form.
- Ordinary: Anointing the head and washing the face were everyday grooming. Skipping them was how people showed mourning. Fasting should leave no visible trace.
- Self: Fasting sets aside even the body's rightful claims, so the soul can have to do with God. Yet the same act can be twisted to promote self instead.
- Free: The Lord neither commands fasting nor forbids it here. He leaves it a personal exercise and only rules out doing it for an audience.
- Secret: The Father sees what people cannot. He rewards, but He does not say when or how.
so that thou mayest not appear fasting unto men, but to thy Father who is in secret; and thy Father who sees in secret shall render [it] to thee.
Fasting is the last of three examples the Lord gives of practising righteousness. Giving and prayer came first, and all three end the same way — with a Father who sees what no one else can. The question the verse forces is simple: when nobody can tell that you are fasting, what is left of it?
The instruction sounds strange. Someone going without food must wash and groom so that nothing shows. One writer explains what fasting does for the spirit, and why the Lord guards it from display.
I believe there is a real value in fasting that few of us know much about. If someone joined fasting to prayer on the occasions that call for special personal prayer, I have no doubt he would feel the blessing of it. There is humbling of spirit expressed in it... Fasting is one of those things where the body shows its sympathy with what the spirit is going through. It is a way of expressing our desire to be low before God, in an attitude of humiliation. But the flesh can take advantage even of what is meant to keep the body in check. So the Lord tells us to take steps not to appear to others to be fasting, rather than to allow any display.
The danger is that the very act meant to lower self becomes the thing that lifts it. That reversal had already happened in Israel.
In Israel, fasting was abused to its very opposite. It was made to accredit self, instead of discrediting it. It brought it into prominence, instead of setting it aside... He puts an end to this by making it a thing to be before the Father and not before men: before the eyes of Him who sees in secret. As to the practice of it, He does not really decide anything... That the true life is one that is to be lived before God is the main point upon which He is here insisting.
There is a positive side too. Real fasting is not a technique; it grows out of prayer.
There is a deep moral connection between true prayer and fasting, as all spiritual minds have felt. Its blessedness is this: a Christian may be so taken up with God and His things that he forgets the needs of the body for the time. And even when those needs press on him, he may be so filled with God that he can deny the natural in the power of what is spiritual. Such a state, it is needless to say, is far from the eyes of other people.
The Lord ends all three examples with this same line — after giving, after prayer, and here. One writer notes that He speaks to each person one by one.
"Your Father who sees in secret will reward you" (4, 6, 18). What encouragement! and at the same time, what a wholesome reminder!... He said "your Father" to each person one by one, not to a crowd, pointing to the tie of birth formed between each true disciple and God. Each can say, "He is my Father." And if he is alone on earth for any reason, with no one here to turn to, that eye is still looking down on him — the eye of his Father who sees in secret.
Some translations end the verse with the word "openly." One writer holds that the promise stands complete without it.
So it is not a question of open reward, in verses 1 and 18 (leave out "openly") — "Your Father who sees in secret will Himself reward you" is enough. "I know your works."
When does that reward come? Another writer leaves the timing with God.
The Lord Jesus does not mention when and how the Father will reward, but we know that God is a rewarder of those who diligently seek Him (Heb. 11:6).
What you build where no one watches is what holds up where everyone does.
The real source of strength in faith lies in the hidden relationship with our God and Father. Someone once said: "We cannot confess the Lord publicly if we have not been in secret communion with Him on our knees."
- Hidden. Wash and groom so the fast does not show. The aim is that no one sees it but the Father.
- Humbled. Fasting lets the body share the spirit's desire to be low before God. It collapses the moment it props up self instead of setting self aside.
- Beheld. The Father's eye is on each disciple, one by one. It rests on him even when no one else is there.
- Rewarded. The Father's reward is certain, but the Lord does not say when or how it will come.
- Real. How often to fast is left open. What is settled is that the true life is lived before God — and hidden time with Him is where public strength comes from.