Whoever therefore hears these my words and does them, I will liken him to a prudent man, who built his house upon the rock;
The Sermon on the Mount ends with a builder, a house, and a storm. Everything rests on what a person does with the words just spoken. The question is not whether we admire Christ's teaching. It is whether our life stands on it when the weather turns.
This picture is not an extra illustration tacked on. It seals everything Jesus has just taught, and it points to the authority of the One speaking.
Finally, the seventh section puts the seal on Christ's teachings. His perfect words are a rock foundation for anyone who builds on them. When the final storms come, that building will not be overthrown. This is the seal eternity will set upon Christ's word. Meanwhile, the authority of the Speaker shines through His decisive, unmatched sayings. This is the present seal: "He was teaching them as one who had authority, and not as their scribes."
The verse pairs two verbs: hearing and doing. Commentators read that pair as the line between what is real and what is only claimed.
It is true that hearing is not enough. It is "everyone then who hears these words of mine and does them." In Luke it is, "Everyone who comes to me," and so on. The coming would speak of faith… It shows that if there is only hearing and no doing, the root of the matter is not there… Hearing, with the doing as well, supposes reality. Nothing but reality will do for God. Here it is clearly reality in contrast with mere profession.
The test falls on anyone who claims to follow Him.
He explains what really matters in the lives of those who call themselves His disciples: not only to hear His words but also to do them. The words of James often remind us of what the Lord Jesus says here: "But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves."
Does this make obedience the price of salvation? One writer answers by looking back over the whole sermon.
The parable does not teach salvation by works, but salvation by that living faith which leads to the works. Look back over the Sermon on the Mount. We see at once that nothing but genuine faith in Him could lead anyone to do the things He taught.
Everything in the parable turns on what lies underneath, not on how the house looks.
Now for the stability of a house the foundation matters most. If the foundation is not firm, it makes no difference how well the house is built. It will go down with the foundation. Christ and His words are here the rock that lasts; everything else, whatever it may be, is only sand. The one who puts His sayings into practice in a living way will build a house that survives the storm.
The rock is not an idea or a moral code. It is a Person, named again and again in Scripture.
The rock on which a wise man builds the "house" of his life is Christ. He is the rock that went with the people of Israel through the wilderness. He is the rock on which His church is built. He is the living stone we come to when we believe in Him. And here at the end of the Sermon on the Mount He is also the unshakeable foundation of the practical life of faith. When the wise man builds the house of his life on the rock Jesus Christ, it does not fall but stands for ever. It means he directs his life by the Lord Jesus and His word. That is the only way we can prove our love for Him.
The wise builder is not promised fair weather. The storm hits both houses. It only shows what was already underneath.
Often only a crisis shows whether a house stands on a solid foundation or not. At first glance a house may look as if it stands on firm ground. But a storm can prove otherwise.
One writer looks past today's troubles to a final storm.
Heaven is silent today: no bolts of fire come down from there to drive the guilty into eternal misery. But before long a real hurricane of divine wrath will break out. It will show beyond dispute where people really stand. Every unreal structure will then topple and fall. The finest moral and religious appearance will not shield you from judgement if you have not trusted, as a lost sinner, in the Saviour and in His precious blood.
- Foundation — the rock is Christ Himself, together with His words. Everything else, however respectable, is sand.
- Hearing — hearing alone settles nothing. Doing is what marks the real disciple.
- Faith — obedience is not the payment for salvation. It is the evidence of the living faith that alone could produce it.
- Storm — the crisis tests every house. It does not build the foundation; it exposes the one already laid.
- Standing — the house on the rock does not fall. It stands for ever.
and the rain came down, and the streams came, and the winds blew and fell upon that house, and it did not fall, for it had been founded upon the rock.
The Sermon on the Mount does not end with a promise of calm weather. It ends with a storm, and the same storm hits both houses in the story. The difference is not the building. It is what lies underneath. This verse gives the result first, then the reason.
A storm does not test the walls of a house. It tests what the house stands on.
The rain pours down. The floods press on the foundations. The storm blows against the walls. All of this will prove the worth of a house's foundations. If they are laid on a high rock the storm may well damage the house but it will not be able to destroy it.
Three forces hit the house, from three directions. No one who claims the name of Christ escapes them.
The wise man's house, built on a rock, withstands the floods and storms. In the same way the believer obeys the words of the Lord Jesus, who is Himself "the rock of ages." He will be kept from destruction through the rain from above, the floods from beneath and the winds from around. Everyone who professes the name of Christ will be tested by all these things. The genuine believer, resting on Christ Himself, will withstand every such adversity.
The verse gives one reason the house stood, and it has nothing to do with the walls. The word behind "founded" means fastened down to what a house rests on.
"Founded" suggests the idea of being "secured to the foundation": so in Matthew 7:25 and Luke 6:48 it is "founded on a rock."
The foundation settles the outcome. Good work above ground counts for nothing. In fair weather the wrong foundation can even look like the better choice.
For the stability of a house, the foundation matters most. If the foundation is not firm, it makes no difference how well the house is built: it will go with the foundation. Christ and His words are here the rock that lasts. Everything else, whatever it is, is only sand. The one who truly puts His words into practice will build a house that endures the storm. No one else and nothing else will. While the fair weather lasts, the house on sand may well look better than the one set on rock, and the man who trusts it may enjoy a passing triumph. Too soon! And when the storm comes, it is too late to fix it.
So what is the rock? One writer follows the word through Scripture.
The rock upon which a wise man builds his life's "house" is Christ. He is the "rock" that went with the people of Israel through the wilderness (1 Cor. 10:4). He is the "rock" on which His church is built (Matt. 16:18). He is the living stone we come to when we believe in Him (1 Pet. 2:4). And here at the end of the Sermon on the Mount He is also the unshakeable foundation of the practical life of faith.
Both men in the story heard the same words. What separated them was obedience.
Heeding the words of Christ is what survives every shock of the adversary. He who proves his faith in this way, by his obedience, shall never be moved nor ashamed.
The verse does not say the storm left the house untouched. It says the house did not fall.
A disciple wanting to be faithful to the Lord and obey His word — that is the wise man in our parable — can fail also. Nor will he be spared trials. Some events will shake the life of even the strongest believer to its very foundation. But he knows his house stands on solid rock and will not fall. And he has the full and unshakeable security of salvation for eternity as well.
One writer looks past today's storms to a final, public one.
Heaven is silent today: no bolts of fire come down to drive the guilty into eternal misery. But before long a real hurricane of divine wrath will burst out. It will show beyond dispute where men stand. Every unreal structure will then totter and fall. The finest moral and religious appearance will not shield people from judgement. It is no shelter for anyone who has never come as a lost sinner to trust in the Saviour and in His precious blood.
- Founded. The one word that explains why the house stood means fastened to what is under it. Nothing above ground gets the credit.
- Rock. That foundation is Christ Himself: the rock of the wilderness, the rock of the church, the living stone. It is not a rule or a religious habit.
- Doing. Both builders heard. Obedience is what fastens a life to the rock, and obedience survives every shock.
- Storm. Rain from above, floods from beneath, winds from around. Every person who names Christ meets the test.
- Standing. A house on rock can be battered and shaken, yet it does not fall. The house that only looked good in fair weather has no remedy once the weather turns.
And every one who hears these my words and does not do them, he shall be likened to a foolish man, who built his house upon the sand;
The Sermon on the Mount closes with two builders side by side. This verse describes the second one. He listens to everything Jesus has just said, then builds his life as though he had not heard a word. The question the verse forces is not whether a person has heard Christ, but what hearing has produced.
The foolish builder is not an outsider. He hears Christ, and hearing changes what is expected of him.
If someone does not hear, you cannot speak of building at all. Hearing brings responsibility with it. Here it is: "and does not do them." John 13 says, "If you know these things, blessed are you if you do them." God will not reward us for knowing alone, though it is a blessed thing to be "filled with the knowledge of His will in all spiritual wisdom and understanding." He rewards us for doing. "Blessed are you if you do them."
Sand is not nothing. It looks like ground, and a house does go up on it.
On the other hand, the one building on sand hears the words of the Lord Jesus. But he fails to take them to heart in a way that leads him to obey them. He is still considered to be building. He simply builds on sand: the shifting uncertainty of men's thoughts, with no solid basis of fact. Judgment will sweep this away. The greater the pride and effort put into building the house, the greater its fall.
Nothing in the verse faults this man's building work. His mistake is that he never asked what was underneath.
The foolish man's thoughts do not go very deep. He builds a house as it pleases him without considering the foundation. In 'building our lives' there is a great temptation to value the things we can see. We then neglect the deeper matter of the foundation, which is essential to a life for God. Everyone who hears and knows the words of Scripture — the commandments of the Lord — and does not follow them acts like the foolish man.
Some people call Jesus Lord and mean nothing by it. This verse shows why. Fruit comes from a life received from Him, and where that life is missing, nothing grows.
It is not redemption only that sinful man needs, but life eternal. In Jesus only are both found, and the believer receives both. Many profess His name and boast of redemption in Him, the forgiveness of offences, but never think of present life in Him. They deceive themselves… They say, Lord, Lord; but they are false to His name. Had they believed, they would have had life in His name, and brought forth fruit of righteousness.
The obedient life does not save anyone. It shows what a person is resting on.
Useless indeed is the profession of the lips — the saying, "Lord, Lord" — unless the life confirms it. Not that the best life will justify before God, or save in the day when everything that can be shaken will be shaken. But it is still evidence that Christ is the foundation of the soul — the foundation of a house built secure against all the storms that can strike it. Faith in Christ must, of course, be real. But the more real a person's faith in other things, the more complete the delusion. The surer and more fatal the ruin that awaits him. "The ruin of that house is great."
The house on sand stands while the weather is fine. The test comes later.
It would indeed be better to have no house at all than to have one built on sand. Agreement in the mind, bare belief, is only a sandy foundation. Then the hurricane of death comes to those who only profess His name. The rain falls, the floods come, the winds blow and beat on their house. How terrible when the veil of their self-deception lifts and their house falls — too late ever to be rebuilt on the Rock.
- Heard. The foolish builder is a listener. Hearing Christ's words brings responsibility. The reward comes for doing them, not for knowing them.
- Shallow. He never asks what is under his house — he builds as it pleases him, on the shifting uncertainty of men's thoughts.
- Hollow. Saying "Lord, Lord" without present life in Christ is self-deception. Where there is no life, there is no fruit of righteousness.
- Evidence. Obedience does not justify anyone, but it does show that Christ is the real foundation of the soul.
- Great. The house stands until the storm hits. The more real the misplaced confidence, the greater the fall. Better no house at all than one on sand.
and the rain came down, and the streams came, and the winds blew and beat upon that house, and it fell, and its fall was great.
The Sermon on the Mount ends with a collapse. Two men build, the same storm hits both houses, and only one house stands — so what makes the difference?
Both builders work. Both put up something that looks like a house. What separates them is out of sight, and it only matters when the weather turns.
In both cases we are shown the builder of a house. The house is the place of his affections and his rest. Above all, as we see it here, it is his shelter and refuge from the storm. Now for the stability of a house the foundation is the matter of first importance. If the foundation is not firm, no matter how solidly the house is built: it will go with the foundation. Christ and His words are here the rock that abides; all else, whatever its nature, is but sand. While the fair weather lasts, the house on sand may well look better than the house on rock, and the man who trusts it may enjoy a passing triumph. Too soon! And when the storm comes, it is too late to put things right.
The foolish man is not described as lazy or wicked. He simply never asked the one question that mattered.
The foolish man's thoughts do not go very deep. He builds a house as it pleases him without considering the foundation. There is a great temptation in 'building our lives' to put importance on those things that we can see outwardly and neglect the deeper matter of the foundation that is essential to a life for God.
The sand is not nothing. It is what a man builds on when he hears Christ's words and does not obey them.
The man building on sand is the one who hears the words of the Lord Jesus and then fails to take them to heart and obey them. He is still building, but only on sand — the shifting uncertainty of men's thoughts, with no solid basis of fact. Judgment will sweep this away. The greater the pride and effort put into the building, the greater the fall of the house.
Good works make the same sand. A person can work hard at building and still be building on himself.
Many are building upon their own works, imagining that they have in them a sufficiently strong foundation. They are badly deceived, for their works are only shifting sand. The day is coming when the winds of judgment will blow, and the floods of righteous wrath will lift up their voice. Then their empty hope will perish, their building will collapse, and they themselves will have no shelter for ever in a lost eternity.
The foolish builder heard every word. His deception runs in one direction only.
Think of the man who likes to listen to nice sermons and explanations of truth, but has no concern that his life should be governed by what he hears. Clearly he is not likely to deceive anyone else. Even the unbelievers he comes into contact with will soon detect how unreal he is. But he may sadly deceive himself.
The bigger the confidence a man misplaces, the bigger the ruin.
Not that the best life will justify before God, or save in the day when everything that can be shaken will be shaken. Still, such a life is evidence that Christ is the foundation of the soul — the foundation of a house that stands secure against every storm that can hit it. Faith in Christ must, of course, be real. But the more real a person's faith in other things, the more complete the delusion, and the surer and more deadly the ruin waiting for him.
William Kelly writes on the same story in Luke's Gospel. He asks who is most at risk.
The man who has heard and not done is like someone who built a house on the ground, without a foundation. That is exactly what has marked the Christian world and Judaism then and since. The stream broke on that house, and at once it fell; and the ruin of that house was great. So it will be. The heaviest blow of the Lord returning in glory will not fall on pagans who have never heard. It will fall on the baptized who have heard the Gospel and not obeyed it.
The doing that marks the wise man is the evidence of faith, not a substitute for it.
This parable does not teach salvation by works. No one can stand before God on the basis of his own works but only as he has faith in the Lord Jesus. Then the life will be followed by works of faith. Such is one of the teachings of the Sermon on the Mount. A mere profession without faith is worthless but on the other hand there is no true faith without works.
- Foundation — the two houses differ underneath, not on the surface. Whatever is not Christ and His words is sand.
- Fair weather — for a while the sand house can look better than the rock house, and its owner enjoys a passing triumph.
- Self-deception — the hearer who never obeys fools no one but himself. Even unbelievers soon see he is unreal.
- Storm — rain, flood and wind show what was really there. By then it is too late to change foundations.
- Great — the ruin matches the trust a person placed in it. The more real his faith in anything but Christ, the more complete his collapse.
And it came to pass, when Jesus had finished these words, the crowds were astonished at his doctrine,
The Sermon on the Mount ends here. Matthew records what it did to the people who heard it: they were astonished. Two questions follow. Who can speak like this? And what does astonishment prove?
Jesus taught His disciples. But a much larger crowd stood listening, and Matthew reports how they reacted.
"And when Jesus finished these sayings, the crowds were astonished at his teaching" (v. 28). The Lord's sermon has come to an end. His words were meant first of all for His disciples (see ch. 5:1), but the crowd listening was much larger. Many had listened to this serious and clear teaching, and it astonished them. It was different from what they were used to hearing from the Jewish scribes. His words were full of authority, wisdom and grace (Mark 1:22; 6:2; Luke 4:22).
The scribes were the recognised teachers of the day. One writer describes what leaning on them had done to Israel.
God's prophets had been silent for four hundred years, so the Jews had grown used to leaning on their rabbis. They had shown the same unbelief even in the days of the greatest prophets, as Isaiah testifies (Isa. 29:13). In Israel, and later among Christians, it was a sea of uncertainty and a clash of learned or reckless opinions. How could it be otherwise, when they were cheated into giving up God's word for man's ideas?
The same writer traces the root of the problem, and its result in any age.
Wherever trust in man takes the place of the truth, the result is always uncertainty before God. That is why people crave tradition, official authority passed down from one man to the next, and other such props for a weakness they feel inside... They were a class of men who handed on some knowledge of Scripture, crusted over with a coating of tradition that often hid and twisted even what was true in itself.
Why did He sound so different? One writer points back to a promise God made through Moses.
Until now the people had been shut up to the law given through Moses. Now they were to listen to the prophet like Moses (Deut. 34:10). Moses said that God would put His words into that prophet's mouth, and He would speak everything God commanded Him. From then on, blessing depended on people listening to Him. No wonder they saw a difference in Him. He taught, they said, as one who had authority, and not as their scribes (Matt. 7:29)! He was the prophet, but more than a prophet: He was God, the Son of God.
Authority like this needs a speaker who knows both man and God.
The Lord alone on earth was qualified to speak with an authority that was His own. More than anyone else He knew what was in man (John 2:25). He alone here below knew what was in God (John 3:11)... On the other hand, no one has ever seen God; the only Son, who is at the Father's side, has made Him known. So He is in every way qualified to speak with authority. Yet who was ever so humble?
What made that authority convincing? One writer looks past the miracles.
No wonder the crowds were astonished. No wonder they found this teaching different from the strange fancies, the outward show and the traditionalism of the scribes... This claim of authority called for the miracles that came with it. Yet it did not rest even on these. Above all it rested on the plain holiness and love and truth that summoned mind, heart and conscience into His presence, and made the whole person bow in reverence.
The crowd stopped at astonishment. That still happens today.
Many people today are still impressed by the words of the Sermon on the Mount. But they think they can use those words to lead mankind out of the misery and injustice of our world! So many admire the human greatness of Jesus of Nazareth without receiving Him by faith as the Son of God, their Saviour and Lord!
One writer adds a caution for anyone reading the sermon in search of peace with God.
To any anxious soul let me say, Do not mistake. The Lord is not here showing how the sinner is to get pardon and peace. He is teaching His disciples how they are to walk and please their Father.
- Speaker. He knew what was in man and what was in God. That is why He alone could teach with an authority of His own.
- Contrast. The scribes handed on Scripture crusted over with tradition. Leaning on them left Israel in a sea of uncertainty.
- Weight. The authority rested not even on miracles, but on the holiness, love and truth that were plainly there.
- Reaction. The crowd stopped at astonishment. They admired the greatness of Jesus without receiving Him as Saviour and Lord.
- Caution. The sermon shows disciples how to walk and please their Father; it is not the way a sinner gets pardon and peace.
for he taught them as having authority, and not as their scribes.
The Sermon on the Mount ends with shock, not applause. The crowds are struck as much by how Jesus spoke as by what He said — and the word for it is authority.
The crowds knew their own teachers well. What they heard that day came from somewhere else.
No wonder the crowds were astonished. No wonder they found this teaching different from the scribes, with their strange ideas, their outward show and their reliance on tradition. It was a Voice from a world beyond this earth, and the strange authority in it fitted it so well! Nothing else could have fitted it: any other tone would have meant giving up His whole mission. This claim of authority called for the miracles that went with it. Yet it rested above all not on these, but on the clear holiness and love and truth in Him, which drew mind, heart and conscience into His presence.
Jesus never leans on another teacher's name to back up what He says.
If it is the glory of other teachers to hide behind their subject, it is not so with Him. He brings His Person to the front, and does it without apology, in the most simple and natural way. He spoke with authority and never stopped to say why. He commanded without stating His right. He teaches in a way altogether different from others. He goes to the heart of things, and so carried conviction and exposed the recognised teachers of the day. He always honours and fulfils Holy Scripture, yet He cites no earlier authority for what He says.
This kind of authority needs what no human teacher has: full knowledge of man and full knowledge of God.
The Lord, alone on earth, was qualified to speak with authority peculiar to Himself. Beyond all others He knew what was in man (John 2:25): He alone here below knew what was in God (John 3:11)... On the other hand no one has seen God at any time; the Only-begotten Son who is in the bosom of the Father — He declared Him. So He is in every way qualified to speak with authority; yet who was ever so lowly?
Long before, Moses had promised Israel a prophet like himself.
He was the prophet Moses foretold, the one Israel was to listen to (Deuteronomy 18:15-19)... God, Moses said, would put His words into that prophet's mouth, and He would speak all that God commanded Him. From then on, blessing depended on people listening to Him. No wonder that people saw a difference in Him! He was the prophet, but more than a prophet — He was God, the Son of God. He did not speak like those of old, with a "Thus says the LORD." He did speak with authority. His hearers were to take what He said as the voice of God speaking to them.
The scribes taught Israel the law. Their failure was not ignorance. They leaned on what earlier men had handed down.
Wherever confidence in man takes the place of the truth, uncertainty before God always follows. So people crave tradition, official authority, authority handed down through a line of successors, and other such props of a weakness they feel. This was very largely the case with these scribes. Even their use of Scripture had no power in it. It did not come from a simple, happy-hearted confidence in God, and it did not produce one. They were a class who passed on a measure of scriptural knowledge, crusted over with a coating of tradition. That coating often hid and twisted even what was true in itself.
Another writer describes these men and what was missing in them:
They could tell accurately everything about the birth of Jesus... They were the keepers of the law, the copyists of the law, and they read and explained the law. But with all that, they had not the smallest personal interest in the things themselves. That is what they were. May God keep us from being scribes!
Because the speaker is who He is, His words do more than inform. They cut.
The Lord Jesus spoke with His own, undeniable authority. His words were the words of God, and therefore sharper than any two-edged sword (compare Hebrews 4:12). As Son of God He revealed the thoughts of God. But He also knew how the heart of man would answer His words, which pierced it like a sword.
- Source. The authority is not a style of speaking but a Person. He knows what is in man and what is in God, and yet He is lowly.
- Sign. He speaks in His own name and quotes no earlier teacher. This is the prophet Moses promised, whose words carry God's own voice.
- Contrast. The scribes leaned on tradition. Leaning on man always leaves the soul unsure before God.
- Warning. Full knowledge of Scripture with no personal interest in it is the scribe's disease, and it can be ours.
- Response. His word carries God's own authority and cuts to the heart. So the fitting answer is not admiration but obedience.