I have always loved autumn for a variety of reasons. In Minnesota, we get to experience warm days and cool nights. At night, the AC is turned off, and the windows are opened again, capturing all the outdoor sounds as we sleep. During the day I can fling open my shop doors and enjoy the smells of fall as I do my woodworking.
Growing up on the farm, autumn also meant harvesting the fall crops. After waiting all summer for our spring planting efforts to come to fruition, we enjoyed the fruits of our labor and patience (I think of Mark 4). By far, my all-time favorite harvest was chopping corn for silage, especially the associated smell of fresh chopped corn. It’s the same smell you get when husking out sweet corn.
When the corn stocks were still mostly green and the kernels beginning to dent, we took to the fields with a chopper and wagons to harvest the crop that would ultimately become silage (think sauerkraut). Wagonload after wagonload of chopped corn were taken out of the field and brought to the farm yard to be blown 50′ up into a silo. We called the whole process, “silo-filling.”
Part of the enjoyment of silo-filling for me during my junior high and high school days was getting to miss school for several days to man a tractor and wagon. I made several trips per hour out to the field, returning to the silo with a loaded wagon for emptying into the blower. I loved every bit of it and have great memories as I write this.
Year after year, I lived with one hope – that I would “happen” to be bringing a loaded wagon up to the silo at the same time that the school bus came by at the end of the day. How glorious to have my peers see me at work while missing school. I would strategically try to make it happen. It did happen, but only once. But it was glorious! I felt rewarded for all my work and strategy.
For the last several weeks I have been working my way through the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew’s gospel. I recently read Jesus’ admonition regarding prayer…
Whenever you pray, you must not be like the hypocrites, because they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the street corners to be seen by people. Truly I tell you, they have their reward. (Matt. 6:5, CSB)
It’s my understanding that in the first century, at the time of Jesus’ earthly ministry, Jewish religious practice and traditions included fixed times of prayer – morning, afternoon, and evening. Modern Hasidic Jews still observe the fixed prayer times. When we were in Jerusalem several years ago, we found ourselves at the western wall of the Temple Mount (the “wailing wall”) around 3:00p, where many Orthodox Jews had gathered for prayer. Interestingly, at the same time, Muslims were gathered in the mosque on the Temple Mount for their time of afternoon prayer.
In the first century, if a worshiper could not get to a synagogue for prayer, they stopped where they found themselves, faced the Temple, and recited their prayers. I was once on a train from Minneapolis to Chicago when at 9:00a several Hasidic Jews stepped out into the aisle to recite their prayers (known as davening), including the traditional rhythmic swaying back and forth.
I understand that in Jesus’ day, religious leaders would strategically position themselves for the best possible exposure at prayer time, hoping they might find themselves on a busy street corner for all to see. They were praying, as they should, but their motives were wrong. Their piousness was a pretense. Etymologically, pretense and pretend are connected.
So, Jesus rightly referred to these strategizers and hypocrites, as pretenders. The point Jesus made to his disciples and the crowd listening in this discourse was that the righteousness of the religious leaders was insufficient and incomplete. In God’s economy, the righteousness of kingdom people must (will?) surpass that of the religious leaders who did the right things but for the wrong reasons (see Matt. 5:20).
Here’s the thing that’s a bit scary to consider: the religious leaders did not see themselves as pretenders. They were faithfully practicing standard-fare pious acts religiously (giving to the poor, praying, fasting, etc). They were probably completely stunned to be called pretenders. And, as we discover, they were angered to no end.
Jesus encouraged pious practices but sans strategy. In the same section, Jesus discussed the practice of giving to the needy. In their “righteousness,” the pious leaders practiced giving to the poor. It was a good thing to do. But in their incomplete righteousness, they were doing the right thing but only pretending they cared about the needy. Jesus was teaching that in God’s economy, the righteousness of kingdom people will exceed that of the calculating religious leaders.
We think of hypocrisy as “saying one thing and doing another.” Jesus seems to view hypocrisy as doing something with wrong motives – pretending. And that’s scary because our motives are always a bit suspect. But there is good news. As kingdom people, we are being transformed into the image of the King in which a modus operandi of pretending fades. But when it does surface, we can declare confidently with the Apostle Paul…
Who will free me from this life that is dominated by sin and death? Thank God! The answer is in Jesus Christ our Lord. (Romans 7:24-25, NLT)
Practical Theology Today 