A FRIEND WITH whom I used to meet regularly once had an important question to ask me. I don’t remember what it was about now, but he wanted my honest opinion. He asked the question, and I’m sure I had a pensive look on my face as I considered my answer. But before I could speak, he said, “And don’t do the professor thing. Don’t tell me both sides of the issue. I want to know what you think.”
I cocked my head slightly. “But that is what I think,” I replied.
Of course, I said that without thinking.
I know what he was getting at. Being a professor is not the same as being a pastor. In the graduate classroom and especially in academic writing, professors can have and teach their opinions, but are supposed to do so against the background of other opinions which must be presented fairly. As faculty members sometimes remind each other, our job isn’t to tell students what to think, but to teach them how to think.
But at that moment, my friend needed me to be more of a pastor. He didn’t need an erudite academic presentation; he needed advice. He wanted moral guidance from someone he trusted, and he was giving me permission to speak into his life. That’s a privilege I don’t want to take lightly.
And the question we must ask ourselves as we finish our study of the Sermon on the Mount is this: will we let Jesus speak into our lives?
IN THE SERMON, Jesus boldly claimed to teach the true essence of the Law and the Prophets, directly contradicting much of what his hearers had learned from the people they thought of as experts in God’s Law. He ended the sermon with a series of four warnings that struck his hearers with a rhetorical force they may never have experienced. Matthew describes their reaction:
When Jesus had finished saying these things, the crowds were amazed at his teaching, because he taught as one who had authority, and not as their teachers of the law. (Matt 7:28-29, NIV)
In the New Testament, the word that is translated here as “authority” suggests the God-given right, power, and freedom to make decisions and take action. Matthew uses the word ten times in his gospel. Soon after the Sermon on the Mount, for example, we read the story of men who brought a paralyzed friend to Jesus for healing. He appreciated their faith, but didn’t heal the man right away; instead, he told him his sins were forgiven.
The teachers of the Law, not surprisingly, were incensed by what seemed to them to be the sheer, unholy arrogance of this. Silently, in their own minds, they accused him of blasphemy, for they knew that only God has the right to forgive sins. But Jesus knew what they were thinking. His words cut to the heart of the matter:
Knowing their thoughts, Jesus said, “Why do you entertain evil thoughts in your hearts? Which is easier: to say, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Get up and walk’? But I want you to know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins.” So he said to the paralyzed man, “Get up, take your mat and go home.” Then the man got up and went home. When the crowd saw this, they were filled with awe; and they praised God, who had given such authority to man. (Matt 9:4-8)
The teachers of the Law, in other words, were right to believe that only God can forgive sins. The question was whether they would see Jesus’ authority to heal and draw the right conclusion: that Jesus had the right to forgive sins because he was the Son of Man. He was God.
Later, after Jesus entered Jerusalem for the final time before his crucifixion, the chief priests and elders confronted him in the temple courts, demanding, “By what authority are you doing these things? And who gave you this authority?” (Matt 21:23). By “these things” they may have been referring to the ministry of Jesus in general. More specifically, however, they were probably thinking of the boldness with which he had driven the merchants and money-changers from the temple the day before.
It’s not as if they really wanted to know the source of his authority. Or to put it differently, they wouldn’t have believed him if he told them. So Jesus deftly dodged the question. But his response, especially the so-called Parable of the Tenants in Matthew 21:33-44, should have left no doubt. His authority was from God. The people knew it, believing him to be a prophet (vs. 46), one commissioned by God to speak with divine authority. But still, those who were supposed to be the people’s religious leaders refused to believe.
THE SERMON ON the Mount is just that: a sermon. Not a philosophical treatise. Not an academic lecture. The words are meant to move hearts and pierce souls. Jesus spoke the truth about righteousness; he spoke as a prophet against false prophets because he had the divine right to do so. And even though he upended much of what his hearers had been taught, they recognized in both his words and demeanor something their teachers would not admit: this was a man with the authority of God the Father.
Not everyone who says to Jesus “Lord, Lord” will enter the kingdom of heaven on the last day, but only those who have accepted that he has the authority that goes with that title, living each day and navigating each relationship under that authority.
May we, by the grace of God, be among them.


