Bird's-eye view
Here at the conclusion of the most famous sermon ever preached, Matthew gives us the reaction of the ordinary people who heard it. Their response was not mild approval or thoughtful consideration; it was utter astonishment. And the reason for their shock was not simply the content of the sermon, though it was revolutionary, but the manner in which it was delivered. Jesus taught with an air of absolute, underived authority, a stark contrast to the derivative, citation-based teaching of their scribes. This was not an academic lecture; it was a command from the throne of the universe. The Sermon on the Mount is the law of the kingdom, and these closing verses reveal that the people recognized they were not hearing from just another rabbi, but from the Lawgiver Himself. This passage serves as a crucial hinge, revealing the divine identity of the teacher and forcing a decision upon all who hear His words: is this man a blaspheming megalomaniac, or is He the Son of God?
The distinction Matthew draws is fundamental. The scribes were commentators, recyclers of tradition, men who built their cases by leaning on the authority of others. Their teaching was a labyrinth of "Rabbi so-and-so says..." But Jesus spoke from Himself. His refrain was, "You have heard it said... but I say to you." This is the voice of God. The crowds, though perhaps not fully grasping the theological implications, knew they were in the presence of a different kind of power. It was clean, direct, and compelling. This authority is not the bluster of a tyrant, but the inherent right of the Creator to define reality for His creation. The astonishment of the crowds is the only sane reaction to hearing the voice of God in person.
Outline
- 1. The Sermon's Aftermath (Matt 7:28-29)
- a. The Conclusion of the Words (Matt 7:28a)
- b. The Reaction of the Crowds (Matt 7:28b)
- c. The Reason for the Astonishment (Matt 7:29)
- i. The Presence of True Authority
- ii. The Contrast with Scribal Teaching
Context In Matthew
These two verses form the concluding bracket to the Sermon on the Mount, which began in Matthew 5:1. Everything from the Beatitudes to the parable of the wise and foolish builders is contained within "these words." This conclusion immediately precedes a series of miracles in chapters 8 and 9, where Jesus will demonstrate the very authority He has just claimed in His teaching. He will cleanse a leper, heal a centurion's servant, calm a storm, and cast out demons. The authority to command is thus followed by the authority to act. His words have power, and His actions have the same power. This section, therefore, serves as the bridge from Jesus' words of authority to His works of authority, showing that His power is comprehensive. The astonishment of the crowds is not a fleeting emotion but the proper preparation for witnessing the King not only declare the laws of His kingdom but also demonstrate its invasive, world-altering power.
Key Issues
- The Nature of Christ's Authority
- The Failure of Scribal Religion
- The Relationship Between Teaching and Action
- The Proper Human Response to Divine Revelation
The Voice of the King
We live in an age that is allergic to authority. We want options, suggestions, and therapeutic advice. We want a consultant, not a king. But the God of the Bible is not a consultant. He is the King. When He speaks, the world comes into being. When He gives the law, it is not a series of helpful hints for self-improvement; it is the binding word of the sovereign. The great error of the scribes was that they had domesticated the Word of God. They had turned the roaring lion of Judah into a house cat, declawed and sedate, content to bat around balls of yarn spun from the traditions of men.
Then Jesus came. When He opened His mouth to teach, the lion roared. He did not quote a long string of approved authorities to back up His assertions. He was the authority. The Greek word here is exousia, which means inherent power, right, and authority. It is not delegated. It is not borrowed. It is original. This is why the people were "astonished." The word in Greek is ekplesso, which means to be struck out of one's senses. They were gobsmacked. They had grown accustomed to the stale air of the synagogue, and Jesus threw open the doors and let in a hurricane. This is what true preaching should always do. It should confront men with the raw, unmediated authority of God's Word, leaving them astonished and undone.
Verse by Verse Commentary
28 Now it happened that when Jesus had finished these words, the crowds were astonished at His teaching;
Matthew marks the end of this great block of teaching. The sermon is over. Jesus has laid out the constitution of His kingdom, the ethics of a world turned right-side up. And the response of the crowd is not boredom, or confusion, or mild agreement. It is shock. They were utterly amazed, astounded, thunderstruck. We should not read this as simple admiration, as though they were impressed by a particularly skilled orator. This was a deeper, more unsettling reaction. Their categories were being rearranged. They had never heard anyone speak like this. The teaching of Jesus was not just another opinion to be placed on the buffet of religious options. It was a word that landed with weight, a word that carried its own authority within it, and it left the people reeling.
29 for He was teaching them as one having authority, and not as their scribes.
Here is the reason for their astonishment, and it is a direct contrast. The teaching of the scribes was, in a word, derivative. A scribe's authority was entirely external to himself. He would say, "Rabbi Hillel taught this," or "Rabbi Shammai argued that." His job was to be a faithful curator of the traditions, a librarian of rabbinic opinions. He was a footnote. But Jesus did not deal in footnotes. He was the text. He did not say, "The tradition teaches..." He said, "I say to you." This is a claim of staggering divine prerogative. He was not interpreting the law; He was giving it, just as Yahweh had given the law from Sinai. The scribes built their little structures with the bricks of human tradition. Jesus spoke, and a mountain appeared. The people heard the difference. They could feel the difference. The teaching of the scribes was second-hand, stale, and ultimately powerless. The teaching of Jesus was immediate, fresh, and carried the power to create and destroy. It was the difference between a photograph of a fire and being consumed by the flame itself.
Application
This passage presents us with a sharp and abiding challenge, particularly for those of us who preach and teach, but also for all who listen. The great temptation in the church today is to preach like the scribes. We are tempted to hide behind the opinions of other men, to offer a collection of interesting quotes from respectable theologians, to give a well-researched lecture on the biblical text that never actually lands on the conscience with divine authority. This kind of preaching is safe, it is respectable, and it is utterly useless. It produces connoisseurs of sermons, not disciples of Christ.
To preach with authority is not to yell, or to be arrogant, or to have a domineering personality. It is to believe that the words of Scripture are the very words of God, and to preach them as such. It is to stand in the pulpit not as a religious professional offering some thoughts, but as a herald delivering a message from the King. The authority is not in the preacher; it is in the Word he preaches. When the Word is proclaimed faithfully, Christ Himself is speaking. And when Christ speaks, the only proper response is the astonishment of the crowds, an astonishment that leads not just to amazement, but to repentance and faith. We must ask ourselves if we are content with the predictable drone of the scribes, or if we hunger to hear the voice of the King. And if we are to hear Him, we must come to His Word, not as critics or casual observers, but as subjects ready to be astonished, undone, and remade by His authority.