Matt 7.13-20

true or false?

1: roads & leaders

(matthew 7.13-20)

Jason Procopio 

We’re reaching the end of Jesus’s Sermon on the Mount—two more weeks to go. And this will actually be a two-parter, because the last part of the chapter should indeed be seen as one unit; it covers two separate sides of the same coin.

Jesus has spoken for nearly three chapters about what we could call Christian ethics: how the gospel will change us and shape our behavior in the world as Christ’s representatives on earth. Of course, Jesus knows what is coming: he knows what the church will be like, and also how people will react to it. Some will react honestly and rightly…but not everyone. Some people will want to manipulate the church to their own ends. Some people will want to offer alternative means of being saved. And some disciples will be tempted to imagine that the incredible things they do are proof of the legitimacy of their faith. 

Every one of these is a danger to the church, so Jesus warns his disciples of this reality; he speaks of each one in turn, and tells his disciples how to avoid them and protect themselves from them.

To put it another way: Jesus ends his sermon with several examples of false faith and true faith, and the various ways they manifest themselves.

False Roads (v. 13-14)

There are actually two images here, “roads” (or “ways,” depending on the translation) and “gates”. But these images are really talking about the same thing: about the paths we take to get to either eternal life, or eternal death—or if you want to come right out and say it, heaven or hell.

If you’re here for the first time, and you have had little or no exposure to Christianity, I’m probably going to offend you right out of the gate, because the first thing we see in today’s text is one of the most offensive claims the Christian faith makes: that all other religions, spiritualities and metaphysical philosophies are wrong. 

I know how that sounds; even I have a hard time saying it straight like that. People hear us say that and they immediately think the same thing: that Christians are unbelievably arrogant, for claiming to know the truth while all these other billions of people are mistaken. 

I know why it sounds arrogant, and the emotion that wells up when we hear something like this is difficult to see past. But the argument that this claim of exclusive truth makes Christians arrogant has never made sense to me—even before I was a Christian—for two reasons. 

The first is because everyone does this. It’s not just Christians. Even those who attack Christianity for its exclusive claims say, “There cannot be only one truth. Truth is whatever you want it to be. No one religion, no one faith, is right. Everyone has to decide what is true for them.” And on and on.

The thing is, these are exclusive truth claims as well. They are claiming to know that there is not only one way. They’re doing the same thing we are, only in reverse. It is a religious claim, a faith-based claim, based on their conviction in what they think is right and good.

That’s the first reason: we all do this. But that doesn’t get to the bottom of the issue, so here’s the second thing, and it’s a good deal simpler: the exclusive truth claims of Christianity did not come from us. 

If I go to the doctor, and the doctor examines me and diagnoses me with cancer, and tells me that only this specific treatment can make me well, I’m not arrogant to believe the doctor and start the treatment. It would be arrogant for me to go around belittling other people for not choosing my doctor as their G.P. But trusting in what my doctor says, if he’s proven himself trustworthy, isn’t arrogance, but wisdom.

We believe that the Bible is the Word of God, and that Jesus, the Son of God, really did say these words. We don’t believe this because we’re smarter or more enlightened than anyone else, or because we’ve arrived at a kind of knowledge others haven’t reached, but rather, and very simply, because God saved us. He intervened in our lives before we ever made a single step toward him.

This is not arrogance; it’s trust that the God who met us and saved us is telling the truth about who he is and how he created the world.

And so, as unpopular as it is to say it, we have to say it, because this exclusive truth claim does not come from us. Jesus himself says it.

Let’s read, in Matthew 7.13-14:  

13 “Enter by the narrow gate. For the gate is wide and the way is easy that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many. 14 For the gate is narrow and the way is hard that leads to life, and those who find it are few. 

So there are two roads, two gates—one leading to destruction, and the other leading to life. The one leading to destruction, I’m calling it the false gate because no one who takes it thinks it’s leading them to destruction; they think it’s leading them to life. It’s only once they’re through the gate that they realize where they’ve been headed all this time.

Jesus describes it, first of all, as wide—that is, there are many different ways to get there, many possible ways up that road and through that gate.

Secondly, he says, it is easy—that is, it requires little effort or sacrifice to get there.

The reason why so many people take this road, and enter through this gate, is because this is what sinful people naturally want. And we’re all sinful people. We all want a way of life that will give us what we want and require little or nothing of us in return. 

That’s why Netflix is so popular. It’s cheap, and it’s meticulously curated to show us what we want to see at any given time.

Don’t get me wrong: I love Netflix. I remember when I was a teenager, and I had to drive all the way to a store, and look at boxes of VHS tapes on shelves, if I wanted to watch a movie. Or if it was a TV show, I’d have to just wait for it to come on TV; and if I missed it, I missed it. So I am definitely grateful for Netflix.

But I think we can all agree that a life spent on Netflix isn’t a life that’s going to be valuable, or ultimately joyful. I might enjoy myself, but I’ll probably hate the person I become.

Most people, whether they know it or not, are living a Netflix life—they’re living whatever life will give them the most amount of pleasure and fulfillment, as quickly and as cheaply as possible. And it brings happiness, and comfort, and pleasure…for now. But this false gate, this false road—which are wide (which has many possible roads leading to it) and easy (requiring little from us to enter)—in the end, leads to destruction.

We need to understand that when Jesus talks about “destruction” here, he’s not talking about the obliteration of life. He’s not saying the lives of those who enter in the wide and easy gate will wink out, like a flame snuffed out by the wind. All of us will live forever; the question is, what will that eternal life look like? One will look like destruction, desolation, isolation from everything that once made life worth living. 

The other will look like…well, life—but life in its best and purest and most joyous form, something that for right now we cannot even begin to imagine.

And we get there through the true gate.

This gate is narrow—that is, there is only one way in. 

The only “way in”, the only true gate, is Jesus Christ himself. Jesus says in John 10.9:  

I am the door. If anyone enters by me, he will be saved… 

And again, in John 14.6:  

I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. 

The gate is narrow—there is only one way in, and that is through faith in Jesus Christ. And it makes sense, because he did what no one else could do: only he did what we needed to reconcile us to God. We are all naturally rebels against God, separated from him by our rebellion. So Jesus Christ, the Son of God, took our rebellion—our sin—upon himself and was punished for our sin, in our place. And in exchange, he gave us his perfect life. No one else has done what he did, so no one else and nothing else can lead us to life, because true life is only found in him.

The way is narrow, he says, and it is “hard”—it will cost us. Jesus says later on, in Matthew 16, something that is almost a parallel of what we see in today’s text. Matthew 16.24-25:  

If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. 25 For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.

The way is hard because it’s counterintuitive—he’s saying that if we want to find life, we need to leave behind the things we think are going to give us life today. But those things, we saw before, are the things we find on the wide path that leads to destruction. It’s only when we are willing to let go of those things that we find the life we were really searching for the whole time. 

He’s saying this, of course, because he knows what his disciples will lose if they follow him. He knows what it will cost them. So he is warning them ahead of time—the gate is narrow, and the way is hard. But this way leads to life.

False leaders (v. 15-20)

Now, in v. 15-20, Jesus anticipates another temptation they will have: that of having the wool pulled over their eyes by false leaders, who will rise up in the church to harm her. 

15 “Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep’s clothing but inwardly are ravenous wolves.

In the time of the early church, one of the gifts we see the Holy Spirit give to his church was the gift of prophecy—God spoke to certain Christians in a particular way, and they shared what they had received with the church, to build her up. (We don’t have time today to go into too much detail here, but if you want to know more, read 1 Corinthians 12-14.)

The problem is that a lot of Christians had a hard time discerning between someone who really had received this gift from God, who wanted to help the church, and those who simply said God had spoken to them, and then who said whatever they wanted. Christians found it difficult to argue with them, because they claimed divine authority: that God had told them to say this. And you don’t want to argue with God, right? So these people could make up just about anything and, claiming a divine mandate, manipulate people into doing things or believing things or accepting things they shouldn’t.

This still happens today, but in our particular church context, it doesn’t happen as often. Many people in our church context don’t believe that prophecy takes the same form today as we see it take in the New Testament; and even those of us who are more open to the New Testament form of prophecy would still agree that the Bible tells us to heavily and critically weigh so-called “words from God”, to make sure they line up with the Bible. So our particular church context helps protect us from this kind of prophecy—it’s not 100%, but it helps.

But it still doesn’t protect us from the kind of danger Jesus is talking about here. Because claiming to be a spokesperson for God isn’t the only way for a “wolf in sheep’s clothing” to come into the church. (When the apostle Paul speaks to the Ephesian elders in Acts 20, he takes up this image of wolves coming into the church, but he leaves it more open, speaking simply of people who will try to turn Christians away from God’s will.)

This could happen in a variety of ways, but the main way it happens today in our context is through simple influence. Rather than saying they have “a word from God” and using that word to harm the church, people will develop their influence, and use their influence to harm the church. They will make people think they have special understanding and knowledge, that others don’t have, so people will listen to them in much the same way the early church listened to prophets.

Jesus says that those who do this “come to [us] in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly are ravenous wolves” (v. 15). A “sheep” here is not a derogatory term; it means a sincere disciple of Christ. And these people—these false leaders—seem very much to be sincere disciples of Christ. They seem loving. They seem caring. They seem righteous and good.

But in reality, either they are actively seeking to harm the church; or they want others to admire them, they want to build power and reputation for themselves, and their self-seeking will harm the church.

It can happen in many ways, but here’s a typical one (and this can be incredibly subtle). A guy will come into the church and build up his image: he is charismatic, he knows the Bible well—he even communicates it faithfully. His knowledge and charisma are intentionally put on display (and yes, social media is likely to play a big role in this, because that’s how people often make themselves known today).

He grows in influence through the same means anybody would: maybe he teaches in the church, but maybe he just spends a lot of time with people, impressing people; maybe he has specific gifts; in the end, all of things make it so that people listen to him. When he speaks, they lean forward.

Leaders aren’t mainly formed through ministries. Leaders are formed through ordinary Christians, who grow in influence by the same ordinary means as everyone else: they spend time with people, they impress people, they may display special gifts—like particular messages they claim come from God, or maybe just an ability to be really convincing—and so people listen to them. 

That’s not necessarily a bad thing; we need godly men and women who can use their influence to bring others into a closer relationship to Christ. But we need to be careful, because the false leaders Jesus is speaking of are those who have enough ability to make their influence powerful, but not enough character to make their influence healthy. Because they wield influence but lack character, their leadership is dangerous.

They can get people to listen to them…and then manipulate them, or even abuse them.

They can get people to listen to them…and then convince them to believe things that aren’t true.

They can get people to listen to them…and cause unhealthy divisions in the church.

It’s incredibly difficult to discern this ahead of time, so Jesus tells us what to look for:

16 You will recognize them by their fruits. Are grapes gathered from thornbushes, or figs from thistles? 17 So, every healthy tree bears good fruit, but the diseased tree bears bad fruit. 18 A healthy tree cannot bear bad fruit, nor can a diseased tree bear good fruit. 19 Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. 20 Thus you will recognize them by their fruits. 

We use the word “fruit” a lot in the church, but it may not be clear what we’re talking about if you didn’t grow up in the church. (Christians aren’t walking around with apples and pears in their pockets.) When we talk about “fruit”, we’re talking about the product of our lives. 

Not our ministries, but our lives. And that’s a really important distinction to make, because often in church today we talk about fruit and we think, “success in ministry.” But that’s not what Jesus says. There may be spectacular ministerial fruit (as we see later on in v. 22), but that’s not the question. 

The question is, what do these people produce, not in their ministries, but in their lives? You will recognize them, Jesus says, by their fruits. Someone may have a very successful ministry…and leave a sea of personal injury behind them. Someone may have a successful ministry, and still be driven by their own ego and appetites. 

That’s how we’ll recognize these leaders we should stay away from: a healthy tree does not bear bad fruit.

Now I’m going to confess something to you. When I prepared the first draft of this sermon, this section grew to be incredibly long: as long as most of my sermons are, just for this one point. And it was difficult for me to write, because it’s personal. I’ve known people like this. Some of them used prophecy, like Jesus says here; some of them used influence they had built over many years. I saw these kinds of people eviscerate people I love; people like this got my father fired when I was a teenager (he was our youth pastor, and a very good one). For a long time when I was young I hated the church because of people like this. 

Now that I’m a pastor, I think about this a lot, because I love you all, and I’m called to care for you the best I can. And now, would-be leaders are even more influential than they were when I was young because (as I said), the church is no longer their only platform; now we have the Internet, which spreads their influence much farther than it would have gone twenty years ago.

So given all that, two questions preoccupy me on a regular basis. Firstly, how do I maintain love and charity for Christians I disagree with—even those whom I would consider dangerous—while at the same time giving you what you need to protect yourselves from them? I don’t want to be needlessly alarmist, and I don’t want to instill doubt in you where there shouldn’t be doubt. But I do want you to be on your guard. So how do I do that?

And secondly, how do I protect myself from this, so I don’t become the kind of person who uses my influence to get what I want from you? I know my own sin; I know the things I see in my own life, remnants of the man I used to be, which still come out sometimes. I know that I want you all to like me (like most people do), and I know that if I let it, that desire could drive me to use you instead of serving you. So how do I protect myself from becoming this kind of person?

Those questions are constantly on my mind, so when I was writing this sermon, everything I could think to say about this subject came out. Every piece of advice (look out for this, look out for that), every way to distinguish a good leader from a bad one… But the subject is too complex, and the ways it comes out are too subtle—there’s just too much to say, it would take all day. 

So rather than go through all that, I’ll just say this (and trust that God will give us all discernment). 

Don’t confuse word of God and word of man. That’s what this boils down to, isn’t it? Whether we’re talking about a false prophet, or a person using their influence to get what they want from others, they are able to do this because people come to trust them almost as much as they would trust God himself. 

We must not confuse the word of God and the word of a man—any man.

I’ll use myself as an example. If I do my job well, and you can clearly see from the Bible that what I am saying is what the Bible teaches, then you can trust that I’ve told you the truth. But it’s not my truth. If I’ve done my job, then the truth I spoke didn’t come from me, but from God.

Someone can communicate the Word of God with great faithfulness, and still be a wolf. So even if what they said is perfect, don’t make the mistake of thinking that the truth they communicated came from them. If it’s confirmed by Scripture, then it didn’t come from them. Don’t confuse word of God and word of man.

And to take it a little further: don’t let anyone—even myself—influence you to the point where you assume that what they’re saying is right, because they’ve so often been right in the past. Don’t let anyone influence you to the point where their words carry the same weight as God’s. It is incredibly easy to go from influence to manipulation without realizing it’s happening. The only being in the universe whose influence you should follow completely, and accept without reserve, is God himself.

If anyone—even someone you trust—tells you something which seems like a biblical truth, that’s wonderful. 

Weigh it. Check it. Pray about it. Measure it against the Bible, first of all, and against what the Church has always taught. 

If anyone—even someone you trust—tells you that you should do something that is not clearly stated in Scripture, weigh it. Pray about it. If anyone tells you to do something which goes against what your own conscience is telling you, don’t just do what they say anyway. Weigh it. Pray about it. Check it against the Word of God. 

And don’t try to do it alone. Ask other Christians you trust what they think (chances are, the church has dealt with similar situations before, and other Christians can point you to resources to help). 

Don’t let anyone’s influence take the place of God’s in your life. 

Application

I’m aware that I’m having to leave off on a bit of a bummer; we’ll get to the good part next week. But for now, even if we look at just this part of the text, Jesus is still encouraging a clear response to these two passages.

There is a path that leads to life, and a path that leads to destruction. There are leaders who will help you walk the path that leads to life, and there are leaders who will pull you away from it, or who aren’t walking that path themselves (even if they may seem to be).

So firstly, pray for wisdom and humility. It takes an incredible amount of discernment to notice these things, and incredible amount of humility to consider that we might be wrong about someone, or about the state of our own hearts. These are things we have to ask God to produce in us (and thankfully, they are among the things he has promised to give us).

Secondly, pay attention to those you admire. Pay attention to me. Pay attention to the elders and deacons and other leaders in the church. Pay attention to those Christians—either here or online—whom you look up to. Don’t be suspicious of everyone; don’t become conspiracy theorists; but don’t ever confuse what someone else says with what God says. Don’t let anyone besides God himself have that kind of influence over you. 

Thirdly, examine your own heart. Look at your life; look at the trajectory of your life, and ask yourself, Which road am I on? Who am I following? Am I looking for an easier way to life than taking up my cross, and losing my life, in order to find it? What do I really want? A short life filled with everything I want right now, or an eternal life filled with everything I should want…even if I have to give up some things today in order to get it?

And examine your own heart and sincerely and humbly ask yourself: Am I a sheep, or am I a wolf in sheep’s clothing? What do I want to get out of my involvement in this church? Am I doing it so that others will see me and admire me? Or am I doing it because I want to know Christ, and I want to be a part of his family?

Lastly, pray that God would protect you from straying. Ultimately, a right heart and a faithful life are things only God can produce in us. Once again, Jesus calls us to place ourselves in his hands, and trust him to bring us where he wants us to be. So let’s keep praying, and keep examining ourselves, and resting in his promises to change us.