THIRTY-FIRST SUNDAY OF ORDINARY TIME – YEAR A
Matthew 23:1-12
THE TEXT BELOW IS THE TRANSCRIPTION OF THE VIDEO COMMENTARY BY FR. FERNANDO ARMELLINI
A good Sunday to all.
Chapter 23 of the Gospel according to Matthew contains a series of severe denunciations of the scribes and Pharisees by Jesus. Surely those famous seven woes resound in your ears: ‘Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees! Hypocrites!’ We might also wonder why Jesus uses such harsh language against them. Were these scribes and Pharisees so bad? The passage we will hear today begins in Chapter 23.
Who were the scribes? They were the scholars of the sacred texts, the biblical experts of Jesus’ time, the learned people who knew the laws and precepts contained in the Holy Scriptures. When a legal question needed to be settled, the people turned to them because they invoked the name of God and found the solution in the Sacred Texts. They had gained importance during the Babylonian exile.
In 586, after destroying the city of Jerusalem, Nebuchadnezzar took to Mesopotamia not the old, the sick, or the lame. He took the educated, the learned, the artisans, and the scribes, who, going to Babylon, brought with them texts they had begun to compose about the history of their people, the laws, and the precepts that were to guide the life of the Israelites.
The temple of Jerusalem was not in Babylon, so they could not offer sacrifices, perform rites, or conduct liturgies; therefore, the priests counted for nothing in Babylon. On the other hand, the scribes were important because people began to gather around these learned people, who could teach them the good rules of life and help them remember the history of their people, the hopes, and the blessings that God had promised to their fathers, the patriarchs. In Babylon, the synagogues were born, that is, these meeting places to listen to the rabbis. These scribes then continued to rework the sacred texts they were composing, and it was in Babylon that the Torah, the Pentateuch, which would be completed when they returned to Jerusalem, began to take shape.
At the time of Jesus, the scribes held greater authority than the priests and prophets; at age 40, a rabbi laid hands on the scribe, and through this imposition of hands, the spirit of Moses was transmitted to him. The scribes were regarded as the infallible magisterium of the time.
The Pharisees: We know them very well because, in the parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector, Jesus painted a perfect portrait of them. They were the people who prided themselves on their moral rectitude, which they naturally flaunted before everyone and then despised those who did not behave righteously like them.
The people admired the Pharisees for their austerity and the seriousness of their lives. They had come into conflict with Jesus because their catechesis was incompatible with the Gospel; it was centered on the strict and scrupulous observance of the precepts they dictated to them; they were intolerant of sinners and, especially, they had entered into conflict with the Gospel because they preached a strict judge, God, who punished severely those who transgressed his commands. This was an image of God that was not compatible with the good and only good Father that Jesus preached, the God who loved everyone, the bad and the good, and who, precisely because he is such a good God, can ask all his sons and daughters to behave like him and love everyone.
How should we interpret the severe and harsh words of Jesus against the scribes and Pharisees? Let us try not to be unfair to them; remember that Paul was a Pharisee, educated in this strict and severe spirituality; he boasted of being a Pharisee, and precisely because he was one, he says he had always behaved irreproachably in the blameless observance of the Torah. In his speech before the Sanhedrin (reported in the Acts of the Apostles), he declares: ‘I am a Pharisee who lived in the strictest sect of our religion.’ When he writes to the Romans, he says: ‘I testify of the Pharisees that they are zealous for God.’
Then, one wonders why Matthew attributes these criticisms of Jesus to the Pharisees and scribes. Indeed, it is not to keep alive the memory of how the scribes and Pharisees who lived at the time of Jesus behaved fifty years earlier… they were already dead.
If Matthew refers to these words of Jesus, it is to illuminate some problems. What had happened? We are told in the Acts of the Apostles that many Pharisees entered the Christian community in the early decades after Easter and adhered to the Gospel. Still, unfortunately, they had not been liberated from their traditionalist religious views and had created many tensions and serious problems within the Christian communities, for example, by having great difficulty accepting the entry of the Gentiles into the Church; they always considered them intruders, as if they were stealing the blessings of Abraham, which were to be reserved for the Israelites.
The words of Jesus that we will hear today, as recorded by Matthew, should be read as an invitation to become aware of the danger of Pharisaism in the heart of Christian communities, which is always present. Therefore, we shall hear the words of Jesus not as addressed to the scribes and Pharisees of his time, who have already died, but as addressed to us today. Pharisaism is present in today’s Christian communities, and the words of Jesus will help us identify it. Let us indeed listen to whom Jesus is addressing:
Jesus spoke to the crowds and to his disciples, saying, ‘The scribes and the Pharisees have taken their seat on the chair of Moses. Therefore, do and observe all things whatsoever they tell you, but do not follow their example.’
Let us note well, in the first place, to whom Jesus addresses himself. He does not address the scribes and the Pharisees, but his disciples, those who have already paid obeisance to him, and the crowd that listens to him, and therefore those who are interested in his Gospel and who could become his disciples. It is clear what the evangelist Matthew wants to tell us. Jesus is addressing you, today’s Christian, who is in danger, perhaps without realizing it, of behaving like a Pharisee, of introducing into the Christian community some of the unacceptable behaviors that were those of the scribes and Pharisees. He then begins the list of these unacceptable behaviors that Jesus does not want to be present in the community of his disciples.
The first one: They “have taken their seat on the chair of Moses.” What does that mean? What did the scribes and Pharisees do? For example, when Moses is quoted in the Gospels, it refers to the Torah, the Pentateuch, and the law of God that he gave to the people. This was the law that Israel had to fulfill, not any other word than the word of God. What the scribes and the Pharisees did was to take the place of the law of God; they had substituted the Torah by proposing their precepts, their catechesis, and their interpretation, and they even said that these precepts had priority over the sacred text. It was said, ‘When in doubt, listen to the rabbi.’ And Jesus had already said, speaking directly to the scribes and the Pharisees, ‘You substitute the word of God with your traditions, with precepts which you have invented, and which are not in the Torah.’ This is the first danger of Pharisaism that we should reflect on, because the same thing can happen in the Christian community that sits in the seat of Moses: not in the Gospel but in our common sense, in the world’s logic, our reasoning is what everybody considers reasonable and correct.
This has happened and continues to happen. The first example that comes to my mind is the repudiation of violence. It is a clear, unquestionable evangelical demand. Has it not been replaced over the centuries by the logic of just war we invented? We had not realized that we had installed the seat of Moses, the logic of people instead of the Gospel, and, unfortunately, there are still those who continue to do so. Another example: Instead of the alternative society that Jesus wanted, the one of a fraternal community where all, without distinction of races, tribes, languages, and religions, must share the goods which belong to God, has it not been taught in the Christian community, in an encyclical of Leo XIII, that it is according to the order of God that there are masters and proletarians, rich and poor, nobles and commoners, provided that they also care for the poor? With these speeches, was not the Gospel replaced by human reasoning? Here is the first danger on which Jesus invites us to reflect: ‘Do not replace the Gospel with your word.’
Second behavior: “Do and observe everything they tell you, but do not follow their example. For they preach, but they do not practice.” This is a grave accusation, and let us say it clearly: it does not apply to the scribes and Pharisees of Jesus’ time; indeed, among them were also the hypocrites, the corrupt, and the incoherent, but as I have said before, the Pharisees were esteemed precisely because they carefully observed all the precepts they taught.
Jesus’ concern is not for the Pharisees of that time but for us today. Today, we often preach the right things yet do not practice them; we proclaim the Gospel, but our lives go in the opposite direction. We cannot deceive ourselves about the life we propose; if we do not first incarnate the Gospel, no one will believe us. This is, in fact, the accusation that bothers us most and is often leveled at us by non-believers. ‘They say, but then they don’t do.’ If, for example, we talk about being servants of the brethren and then allow ourselves to be served, is it any wonder that no one believes us? Let us continue reflecting on the Pharisaical errors against which Jesus wants to warn us. Let us listen:
They tie up heavy burdens that are hard to carry and lay them on people’s shoulders, but they will not lift a finger to move them.
The scribes and Pharisees had reduced the Bible to a code of minute rules to be observed. For centuries, they had collected an infinity of prescriptions to regulate every moment of life, both public and private, and a series of dispositions and regulations that, as Jesus says, were an unbearable burden on the people’s shoulders. Think, for example, of the work forbidden on the Sabbath day, which had been specified to them in every detail. Or the obsession of the Pharisees and the scribes with ritual ablutions, which Jesus did not practice. They had established as many as six kinds of water for the various purifications. Jesus wanted to be free from this heavy burden of precepts that, instead of promoting life, inhibited it. The scribes had the authority to unload this unbearable burden from the shoulders of the people, and they did not lift a finger. It was convenient for them that this burden remained on the people’s shoulders, as it increased their prestige and authority. The people were afraid to transgress their orders, and they felt important.
Has something similar not happened in our Church, even now? Has the proclamation of the Gospel begun with the presentation of God’s unconditional love? That love was presented by Jesus of Nazareth, a God who welcomes everyone and does not discriminate between good and bad, because everyone is his child, and who asks us to be like him, to love even our enemies. Is this where the proclamation begins? Is it not perhaps the case that the Christian is identified as someone who imposes enormous precepts and prohibitions?
One day, I was traveling by train when I joined the conversation. At one point, someone asked me, ‘Are you a priest?’ ‘Yes, I am a priest.’ ‘Hey, so you’re the ones who forbid divorces and premarital sex.’ ‘I believe in a God who loves every person and makes us all brothers.’
True morality must express the only commandment Jesus gave us: the good of the person, the love of man, and what is good for man is what God wants. Too often, we still identify with our moral demands rather than with the proclamation of the face of the beautiful and loving God. Let’s now hear what other criticism Jesus makes of the scribes of the Pharisees in our communities today:
All their works are performed to be seen. They widen their phylacteries and lengthen their tassels. They love places of honor at banquets, seats of honor in synagogues, greetings in marketplaces, and the salutation ‘Rabbi.’
We are all happy when we feel appreciated for who we are and what we do. Even the Bible recommends cultivating a good name; the book of Sirach says that a good name is worth more than gold because it lasts even after us; we shall not be forgotten. But for some, the search for honors, accolades, and honorary titles becomes the purpose of life. This is a pathology. In the letter to the Ephesians, it is called ophthalmodulia, the slavery of glances. One is a slave to people’s attention; he does everything possible to attract those glances to himself and is ready to do anything to awaken the interest of those around him. It is a disease.
Speaking to the Jews who do not believe in him, Jesus says, ‘How can you believe in me when your life aims to seek glory from one another?’ Jesus is concerned that his disciples do not catch this disease and invites them to smile at the pathetic tricks with which the scribes and Pharisees try to attract the people’s eyes. What do they do? They widen their phylacteries. What are those phylacteries? You see them in the picture I put in the background; the one praying has them. Before prayer, he places two small boxes on his forehead, tied with leather straps, and another on his left arm. What did these little boxes contain? Biblical phrases. The meaning of this gesture of placing these little boxes on the forehead and the arm is wonderful because it was a sign of love for the word of God, to have it always before the eyes to guide the steps of every pious Israelite; and on the arm, which is the symbol of action.
Thus, every action of the pious Israelite must be guided by what is written in those little boxes, that is, by the word of God. What did the scribes and Pharisees do? To be noticed, they enlarged the little boxes to make them more visible and to show their attachment to the law of God. In other words, they used the word of God to seek admiration and attention for themselves, not God’s love.
And then the second trick: they stretched their tassels. What are these tassels? In the background, you see two people praying with prayer shawls over their shoulders; in Hebrew, they’re called a talit. I show you three models of a talit. Notice that tassels hang from these talitim (plural in Hebrew). These four tassels hung from the four corners of the prayer shawl; what did they mean? Rain, raindrops falling on pious praying Israelites, the rain of God’s blessings. The meaning of these tassels is beautiful, but what were the scribes and the Pharisees doing? They had forgotten the beautiful meaning of these tassels and, to catch the people’s eyes, lengthened them. They used prayer to attract the people’s eyes, ophthalmodulia, a dangerous disease. They were placed on top of the priests’ cloaks. The historian Josephus Flavius says that when the high priest passed among the people in this garment, all thought they were seeing paradise; it was like seeing God.
Jesus says, ‘Beware of these people who like to walk in long robes.’ Jesus could not stand these ways of seeking to attract people’s attention, even through such things. Pope Celestine I (we are in the fifth century) heard that priests had begun to dress in special, vain fashion, and he wrote to the bishops of Gaul, telling them that we should distinguish ourselves from others by doctrine, not by dress; by conduct, not by habit; by the purity of mind, not by outward adornment.
In the New Testament, it is recommended that the disciple of Christ wear a special garment, the only one that should characterize the disciple, and that garment is the person of Jesus of Nazareth. Whoever meets you, hears you speak, hears you reason, and sees you judge, live, and act must see Jesus of Nazareth in you. This is the only garment that must characterize the disciple, not other ornaments to attract people’s gaze.
What else do these scribes and Pharisees do? They enjoy seats of honor at banquets, the first seats in the synagogues, being saluted in the marketplaces, and being inclined. In Jesus’ time, this was a custom Jesus witnessed many times. When, on the Sabbath, someone in the synagogue made a large offering for the poor, the one who conducted the liturgy, the ruler of the synagogue, would call him, ‘Come here before all,’ and make him sit in the first place in the synagogue. They all saw this man who had been so generous. When Jesus witnessed these pathetic scenes, he said they had already been rewarded. Jesus invites us not to give importance to those who think they have it because we hurt them. Jesus said to his disciples, ‘Beware of these people.’ They were there to behold them, but if you do it, you make them sicker with ophthalmodulia.
Then comes the criticism of honorary degrees. Of course, that was not only practiced by the Pharisees of Jesus’ time, but it is also present in today’s Church: careerism in the Christian community. Let us listen:
As for you, do not be called ‘Rabbi.’ You have only one teacher, and you are all brothers. Call no one on earth your father; you have only one Father in heaven. Do not be called ‘Master’; you have only one master, the Messiah.
Now, Jesus considers three honorific titles that he does not want used in the Christian community. Let us listen well; he has forbidden them. These honorific titles may seem minor and irrelevant to us, but not to Jesus. He is severe. The first title, Rabbi, means “my teacher” or “my great teacher.” It was the title coveted by the scribes because it consecrated their authority and prestige. This is the disposition of Jesus: “You have but one teacher, and you are all brothers.”
We live in a world with many teachers. People know less and less what direction to take in life, what choices to make, and what values to cultivate. In this general uncertainty, enlightened and self-confident people on social networks masquerade as teachers of life.
To his disciples, Jesus says, ‘Beware, there is only one master; be aware that you are not teachers; the teacher is only one; it is not the pope, not even him; the only teacher is the Spirit. Your teacher is the divine life that has been given to you; this nature of yours as a son and daughter of God instructs you, not from without, but from within. It is your identity as a child of God that, at every moment, shows you what you are called to do if you want to be yourself and don’t want to disfigure your identity. It is this Master who teaches you to forgive, to love even the enemy, and to be a servant rather than a master.’
So, can the pope and the brethren who are not teachers teach us? Let’s give an example: In school, there is only one teacher at the front; those at the desks are all pupils. However, some pupils are always wiser than others and understand the teacher’s instructions first. What does he do? He helps his classmates who are having more difficulty and explains what the teacher is teaching.
In the spiritual life, something similar happens. It is not always easy to understand what the Spirit suggests about the choices to be made, both on a personal and an ecclesial level. And there are brothers of faith who are more sensitive than others to this voice of the Spirit. They are called to assist their brethren in discerning this voice.
Second title: Father. When a Semite called someone ‘father,’ he meant that he wished to be recognized by that person as a son. In Semitic culture, when they said, ‘You are my son; I recognize you as my son,’ they meant something more significant than biological paternity. It meant, ‘I recognize myself in you, not just because you have the same traits as I do, but because you look like me and embody the values I have believed in. I see myself reflected in you.’ When we call God ‘our Father,’ we express a desire to resemble him. This is why Jesus says that you should call no man father; you should resemble no one, not the spiritual father, not even the saints; you must resemble the only father, who is the heavenly Father. For example, when Jesus says that we should do good to those who hate us, to the one who does evil to us, not because we have to acquire merit, but because we must accumulate merits for heaven, no; but because you have to resemble your Father, who loves all, even those who do evil.
Significantly, in the Church’s first centuries, they were cautious about using this title. In the fourth century, St. Jerome, upon hearing that desert monks in their monasteries had begun to call their superiors ‘abba,’ immediately issued a stern warning. He said: ‘The Lord admonished us not to call anyone abba, for Abba is one, God, and I do not understand who authorized these superiors of the monasteries to call each other father, ‘Abba’, and I also do not understand how we can allow someone to call us like that.’ So, how can one not feel ashamed when one hears that one is called ‘Reverend Father’? It should bother us to be called by a title that is not ours.
Third title: Master. We are pilgrims, strangers in this world. We are on our way to a destination, toward a homeland, and to avoid making a mistake, we need a guide. Who is this guide? The spiritual director? Jesus says, ‘None of you is a guide; the only guide is Christ.’ The others are fellow travelers who can help us by pointing us to the only guide to follow.
Indeed, we have noticed that in these three titles, the Trinity is presented: One Father, God; one Teacher, the Spirit; one master, the Son of God, Jesus of Nazareth. The Pharisees pretended to distinguish themselves by appearing superior; the disciples of Christ were called to behave in the opposite way. Let us listen to Jesus’ final recommendation:
The greatest among you must be your servant. Whoever exalts himself will be humbled, but whoever humbles himself will be exalted.
To love is to serve; this is why service manifests the presence of the divine life, the heavenly Father has given us, within us; it is the sign that we resemble him who is a servant. This is why all those Pharisaical behaviors that Jesus enumerated are incompatible with this new life and are not to be repeated in the community of his disciples.
Jesus did not forbid us from wanting to be great, glorious, and first, as long as we do not confuse the way to greatness. To be truly great, we must become like him, last, servants of all. I wish you all a good Sunday and a good week.
