Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! You clean the outside of the cup and dish, but inside they are full of greed and self-indulgence. Blind Pharisee! First clean the inside of the cup, so that the outside of it may also become clean. [Matthew 23:25-26 (CSB)]
When I put my mug under the hot water tap, I saw the stain. Fresh out of the dishwasher, the mug was clean on the outside but had a dark tea stain inside. As I applied some elbow grease and Bon Ami, I thought of Jesus’ criticism of the Pharisees. Like my mug, their exterior looked spotless but their interior was soiled. Unlike my tea-stained mug, however, it would take more than scouring powder to correct their problem. Rather than stained by tea tannins, the Pharisees were tainted by a host of sins starting with hypocrisy and moving right through to pride, judgment, self-righteousness, and more.
More interested in their external righteousness than God’s holiness, the Pharisees developed ways of appearing godly without being godly. Conspicuous in their strict adherence to both the oral and written law, they made a show of their piety. With their focus on external purity and cleanliness, like my mug, they looked good on the outside. But, as we know, looks can be deceiving! Appearing to be godly isn’t the same as having God in our hearts!
While scouring the mug, I wondered if I, like the Pharisees of old, had some internal stains that needed removing. Is there a disconnect between my head and heart—a discrepancy between my external behavior and my internal thoughts and motives? Am I seeking to glorify God with my words and actions or am I pursuing the approval and admiration of people? Could I be I more interested in looking good than being and doing good?
For that matter, am I ever easily offended or overly critical of others in small matters? Do I nitpick about things of no consequence, assume the worst about other people, or pass judgment on them? Have I been known to profess knowledge of God’s law without practicing obedience to it? Do I ever justify my behavior while condemning the same thing in others or think of myself as more devout or virtuous than someone else? Are there times I boast of my accomplishments or diminish those of others? Like the Pharisees, could I be spiritually blind when it comes to my faults but the possessor of 20/20 vision when it comes to the faults of others?
Guilty as charged; my head and heart are not always on the same page. I’m as stained on the inside as were the Pharisees. Clearly, the Spirit and I have some work to do that has nothing to do with scouring powder!
Just because we’re not ancient Pharisees who enlarged the phylacteries on their arms, lengthened the tassels on their robes, and stopped in the middle of the road to make a show of bowing low during their prayers doesn’t mean we’re not like them. The weeks of Lent are a good time to take a hard look at the inside of our cups (not the ones we use for coffee and tea) and do some serious scrubbing! For the Pharisees of yesterday and today, godliness, like beauty, is only skin deep. True godliness, however, should go through and through into our innermost being.
Sometimes we emulate the Pharisees more than we imitate Christ. [R.C. Sproul]
A Pharisee is hard on others and easy on himself, but a spiritual man is easy on others and hard on himself. [A.W. Tozer]
As I pondered my goals for this year’s Lenten practice, I remembered Alica Britt Chole’s suggestion to “consider Lent as less of a project and more of a sojourn.” While we often encounter the word ”sojourn” in Scripture, it’s not a word typically used today. Although the basic meaning of gûr, the Hebrew word translated at sojourn, is to “live, settle, dwell,” gûr usually included the sense of it being a temporary or transient stay. Typically, a sojourner was someone living outside their clan or a noncitizen in a strange place. Because of famine, Israel sojourned in Egypt for 430 years and, because of their disobedience, they sojourned forty years in the desert before entering the Promised Land. It is Jesus’ 40-day sojourn in the wilderness before entering His public ministry that is remembered in Lent.
We tend to think of fasting during Lent as abstaining from certain foods, drinks, or activities. Several years ago, however, I was asked, “What if you fasted regret? What if your friends fasted comparison? What would be the fruit of fasting stinginess?” Those questions proposed an entirely different kind of fast than refraining from sweets or social media. In truth, fasting from things like self-righteousness, discontent, and criticism is probably harder (and more meaningful) than giving up energy drinks or dining out.
Every evening, a man went to the local pub and ordered three beers. When asked why three, he explained that he ordered the two extra beers in honor of his two dear brothers who lived far away. One evening, when the man ordered only two beers, the bartender assumed the worst and extended sympathy for the loss of a brother. Correcting the bartender, the man said his brothers were both fit as fiddles and the beers were for them. “It’s me that’s not drinking tonight,” he explained. “You see, I’ve given up beer for Lent!”
“How was work today?” asked the wife in the Born Loser comic strip (drawn by Chip Sansom). Her husband answered, “Horrendous!” adding, “It feels so good that it’s over, I’m almost glad it happened!” Having had times when my prayer was simply, “Lord, just get me through this!” I understand. Sometimes, life seems so challenging and exhausting that we’re willing to settle for merely getting through it. That, dear friend, is setting the bar far too low. God has better plans for us than just getting by and none of us are born losers.
When told that the gifts the Holy Spirit gives us are unique for our specific ministries, we get nervous. We already have a career, didn’t sign up for seminary, and aren’t interested in being ministers. While being a minister/pastor/priest is a vocation, the ministry is the work of every Christian. No matter what our professions, we are all called to minister and that doesn’t necessarily mean pastoring a church. It means serving God and His people in Jesus’ name, which is where those spiritual gifts come in. God is not about to send us off empty-handed.
Devotions of the Heart 