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Matthew 12:33-37
“Either make the tree good and its fruit good, or make the tree bad and its fruit bad, for the tree is known by its fruit. You brood of vipers! [You family of snakes!] How can you speak good, when you are evil? For out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks. The good person out of his good treasure brings forth good, and the evil person out of his evil treasure brings forth evil. I tell you, on the day of judgment people will give account for every careless word they speak, for by your words you will be justified, and by your words you will be condemned.”
Tom Wright, Matthew for Everyone (Vol. 1)
Their speech—and remember that they had just accused Jesus of black magic [v. 24]—will show what’s really in their hearts. Casual words always reveal deep attitudes. . . . As a result, casual words will be used on the day of judgment as a reliable indicator of what really matters, the state of the heart (151).
A. Orendorff
Our words matter and they matter profoundly. At a surface level, our words matter because of the power they posses in and of themselves. As Proverbs 12:18 declares, “Reckless words pierce like a sword, but the tongue of the wise brings healing.”
Here in Matthew 12, however, Jesus is not so much focused on the inherent power of our words as he is on their revelatory nature: our words expose (that is, they reveal) who we are. If a person’s words are evil—gossip, slander, grumbling, complaining, backbiting, course joking, angry outbursts, loveless accusations, intentionally hurtful statements, etc.—they themselves are evil. If a person’s words are good—supportive, encouraging, truthful, peaceful, loving, etc.—they themselves are good.
The point is two-fold. First, use your words to diagnose your heart. Listen to what you say and watch how you use words to either build relationships or tear them down. Second, change your heart then change your words. If your words are evil, repent. But don’t spend your energy focusing directly on changing your speech. Instead, focus on the gospel, read God’s word and mediate on how He uses language to heal and love His people. As your heart is change by God’s word, as His words affect the very core of who you are, your words will be re-shaped and follow suit as well.
Matthew 12:28-29
But if it is by the Spirit of God that I cast out demons, then the kingdom of God has come upon you. Or how can someone enter a strong man's house and plunder his goods, unless he first binds the strong man? Then indeed he may plunder his house.
Tom Wright, Matthew for Everyone (Vol. 1)
In fact (verses 29-30) what Jesus is doing is a sign of something he’s already done. If he’s now helping himself to the property of “the strong man,” it can only be because he’s already tied him up. First you have to win the victory over the satan (our minds, of course, go back to Matthew 4:1-11); then you can plunder his possessions. There is a sobering word there for all who seek to advance God’s kingdom. Are we prepared to go the long, hard route of first winning the victory over temptation! (148).
A. Orendorff
Victory within the gospel-shaped life, does not arise from what we do, from (as Wright says) “first winning the victory over temptation.” Instead, victory arises exclusively from what God has done for us (on our behalf) via His Son. The point of vv. 28-29 is to stress the objective and indicative nature of Christ’s kingdom bringing work, not the subjective and imperative nature of what we as followers must do. Jesus (not us) has bound the strong man. Moreover, this binding is a statement of redemptive fact not a moralistic command. God has (past action, on going result) “disarmed the rulers and authorities and put them to open shame, by triumphing over them in him [through the cross]” (Col. 2:15). Our action, empowered by the Spirit, occurs as a response to what God has already done, in Jesus, to win the victory for us. We fight not to win, but because One greater than us has already secured the outcome.
Matthew 12:14-21
But the Pharisees went out and conspired against him, how to destroy him. Jesus, aware of this, withdrew from there. And many followed him, and he healed them all and ordered them not to make him known. This was to fulfill what was spoken by the prophet Isaiah:
“Behold, my servant whom I have chosen, my beloved with whom my soul is well pleased. I will put my Spirit upon him, and he will proclaim justice to the Nations.
He will not quarrel or cry aloud, nor will anyone hear his voice in the streets; a bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not quench, until he brings justice to victory; and in his name the Gentiles will hope.”
Tom Wright, Matthew for Everyone (Vol. 1)
But how is the Servant [of YHWH] to accomplish his task? Not by threatening and fighting. Rather, with a quiet and gentle work healing, bearing the love and grace of God to the dark parts of Israel and the world.
[Matthew] sees Jesus as the Servant, not only when he dies a cruel death, wounded for our transgressions and bruised for our iniquities, but also in the style of what he was already doing in Galilee. He was going about bringing God’s restoration wherever it was needed, not by making a fuss, but by gently leading people into God’s healing love (143).
A. Orendorff
Father, I put my faith in Jesus, the Servant whom you have chosen, the Beloved One in whom you delight. It is him whom you have anointed with Your Spirit, whom you have appointed Messiah, to declare justice—the coming of your righteousness—to the nations that walk in darkness. I place my hope in the One who does not quarrel or cry aloud, in Him whose voice is not heard in the streets. I place my hope in Jesus, for I am a bruised and damaged reed—weak and ready to break apart—a smoldering, smoking wick about to be snuffed out. I have no strength to call my own, no way to heal myself. I have no light in me by which to walk, to warm myself or light my way. Heal me, Jesus, kindle me and make me new.
Matthew 12:6-8
“I tell you, something greater than the temple is here. And if you had known what this means, ‘I desire mercy, and not sacrifice,’ you would not have condemned the guiltless. For the Son of Man is lord of the Sabbath.”
Hosea 6:6
For I desire steadfast love and not sacrifice, the knowledge of God rather than burnt offerings.
A. Orendorff
The contrast in Hosea 6:6, which Jesus quotes in Matthew 12:7, is between what takes place at the temple and what takes place in the heart. The first—what takes place at the temple—only makes sense if the second—what takes place in the heart—stand behind it. Jesus is not against externals. Rather, he opposes what we might call externalism, elevating the letter of the law above the spirit of the law. Jesus has come to “fulfill” the law and the prophets, to be (in this case) what the Sabbath and the temple had always anticipated and pointed toward. As “Lord of the Sabbath” Jesus interprets the Sabbath, showing us what the Sabbath is really all about. Here, the emphasis is on eating and healing, being well-fed and restored to well-being. As Mark 2:27-28 says, “The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath. So the Son of Man is lord even of the Sabbath.” This, Jesus says, is what the Sabbath is about; this is what I have come to do.
Matthew 11:27-30
“All things have been handed over to me by my Father, and no one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son chooses to reveal him. Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”
Tom Wright, Matthew for Everyone (Vol. 1)
[T]he ease and the joy, the rest and the refreshment which he offered, all spring from his own inner character, his gentleness and warmth to all who turn to him, weighed down by burdens moral, physical, emotional, financial or whatever. He is offering what he has in himself to offer.
And the welcome he offers, for all who abandon themselves to his mercy, is the welcome God offers through him. This is the invitation which pulls back the curtain and let’s us see who “the father” really is—and encourages us to come into his loving, welcoming presence (137).
A. Orendorff
Like the “great calm” Jesus brings amidst the raging storm in Matthew 8:23-27, the “rest” Jesus offers to “all who labor and are heavy laden” does not mean the cessation of all outward burdens; it does not mean our lives themselves will suddenly be marked by a great improvement in external conditions. Over and against the Pharisees, who “tie up heavy burdens, hard to bear, and lay them on people’s shoulders” (Matt. 23:4), Jesus offers an “easy” yoke and a burden that is light. This rest is, as Wright says, sourced in the God-revealing person of the Son Himself. It is a relational rest, one that brings an end to all our efforts at self-justification and instead entrusts itself to the One who has, on our behalf, “fulfilled all righteousness.”
How desperately we need this rest; how desperately we need to draw near to Him in whose presence alone this rest resides; and how desperately we need to learn from Him what it means to be loved by One who is “gentle and humble in heart.”
Matthew 11:18-19
“For John came neither eating nor drinking, and they say, ‘He has a demon.’ The Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, ‘Look at him! A glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!’ Yet wisdom is justified by her deeds.”
Tom Wright, Matthew for Everyone (Vol. 1)
Jesus was up against it, and clearly found it frustrating. John the Baptist had led a life of self-denial, like the holy ascetics in many traditions. Ordinary people had found that hard to take. . . . Now here was Jesus himself, celebrating the kingdom of heaven with all and sundry, throwing parties which spoke of God’s lavish, generous love and forgiveness—and people accused him of being a rebel, a son who wouldn’t behave, a false prophet! The answer, of course, then as now, is that people don’t like the challenge, either of someone who points them to a different sort of life entirely, or of someone who shows that God’s love is breaking into the world in a new way, like a fresh breeze blowing through a garden and shaking old blossom off the trees (132-3).
A. Orendorff
Being agents of God’s kingdom is bound to get us into trouble. While God certainly calls us to different kinds of trouble, in the end, there’s just no avoiding it, after all, “A student is not above his master.” For some, like John, their trouble will be of a somber and prophetic kind—speaking truth to power and showing, by their life and words, both the seriousness of God’s standards as well as the gravity of our repentance. For other, like Jesus, theirs will be of a more scandalous and lavish kind—opening their home and lives to all the wrong people, inviting speculation and even ridicule for the kinds of friends they keep as well as the kind of actions they take. The trouble that God brings into our lives is wide enough for a variety of expressions. The bottom line is this: get ready to be misunderstood and even loathed for doing what’s right.
Matthew 11:9-11 & 13-15
“What then did you go out to see? A prophet? Yes, I tell you, and more than a prophet. This is he of whom it is written, ‘Behold, I send my messenger before your face, who will prepare your way before you.’ Truly, I say to you, among those born of women there has arisen no one greater than John the Baptist. Yet the one who is least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he. . . . For all the Prophets and the Law prophesied until John, and if you are willing to accept it, he is Elijah who is to come. He who has ears to hear, let him hear.”
Tom Wright, Matthew for Everyone (Vol. 1)
The point of all this is that Jesus is offering a new way of understanding God’s timetable. In a few simple words, he is telling his hearers that Israel’s long history, from Abraham and Moses through the prophets to the present moment, was one long preparation, one long getting-ready time. Now the preparation was over, and the reality had dawned. John was indeed greatest among the preparers, but even the most insignificant person who was accepting God’s kingdom and living by it—in other words, who was hearing Jesus and following him—was “greater,” simply because they were living in the time of fulfillment (129).
The point is this: Jesus isn’t telling the crowds about John. He’s telling them about himself—but doing so obliquely (130).
A. Orendorff
Understanding Jesus means understanding the story. The story, Jesus says, is about Me. The story of Israel—what Jesus here calls “the law and the prophets”—is not a complete story. The story is not self-referential; it is not self-contained; it is not about itself. The purpose the story is to point forward, to “prophesy until John.” It’s “end” is found only in the completion Jesus himself brings as the “messenger of the covenant” who appears in the wake of Elijah’s second coming (Mal. 3-4). “He who has ears to hear, let him hear.”
Matthew 11:2-6
Now when John [the Baptist] heard in prison about the deeds of the Christ, he sent word by his disciples and said to him, “Are you the one who is to come, or shall we look for another?”
And Jesus answered them, “Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight and the lame walk, lepers are cleansed and the deaf hear, and the dead are raised up, and the poor have good news preached to them. And blessed is the one who is not offended by me.”
Tom Wright, Matthew for Everyone (Vol. 1)
[John] was expecting Jesus to be a man of fire, an Elijah-like character who would sweep through Israel as Elijah had dealt with the prophets of Baal . . . No doubt John looked forward eagerly to the day, not long now, when Jesus would confront Herod himself, topple him from his throne, become king in his place – and get his cousin out of prison, and give him a place of honor.
But it seemed as though Jesus was working to a different script altogether. (Matthew refers to what Jesus was doing as ‘his messianic deeds,’ but part of the point is that John didn’t see them like that.) Jesus was going around befriending tax-collectors and ‘sinners’ (people whom strict Jews would regard as outsiders, not keeping the Torah properly). He was gaining a great reputation – but not for doing what John want him to do. What was going on? (125-6)
A. Orendorff
Jesus is offensive. I know that it’s cliché to say so and that often such an assertion serves more as an excuse for Jesus’ followers to be offensive rather than Jesus himself, but nonetheless the reality remains: Jesus is offensive; Jesus divides; Jesus brings “not peace, but a sword” (Matt. 10:34); Jesus makes people mad; Jesus insults; Jesus talks about hell, judgment and wrath and he does it all the time.
However, as today’s passage points out, Jesus also heals the lame, cleanses the lepers, raises the dead and preaches “good news” to the poor. What a strange way to cause offense. Hell-talking Jesus, well, we can understand why hell-talking Jesus might offend people. But, healing-Jesus, cleansing-Jesus, preaching-good-news Jesus? Why is that Jesus so offensive?
John’s response to Jesus’ “messianic deeds” teaches us that grace is often just as offensive as law, sometimes even more so. Grace is unmeasured, irrespective of persons, dangerous, unfair and costly. Grace gives life to people who deserve death; it heals those who deserve sickness; it forgives those who deserve condemnation; and it offends (yes, offends) those who think they can do without.
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