I’m sorry this reading hasn’t been perfected, I’ve been sick, but I still wanted to record and get the Bible out to all of you. Thanks for watching, God bless you.
Matthew 23King James Version (KJV)
23 Then spake Jesus to the multitude, and to his disciples,
2 Saying The scribes and the Pharisees sit in Moses’ seat:
3 All therefore whatsoever they bid you observe, that observe and do; but do not ye after their works: for they say, and do not.
4 For they bind heavy burdens and grievous to be borne, and lay them on men’s shoulders; but they themselves will not move them with one of their fingers.
5 But all their works they do for to be seen of men: they make broad their phylacteries, and enlarge the borders of their garments,
6 And love the uppermost rooms at feasts, and the chief seats in the synagogues,
7 And greetings in the markets, and to be called of men, Rabbi, Rabbi.
8 But be not ye called Rabbi: for one is your Master, even Christ; and all ye are brethren.
9 And call no man your father upon the earth: for one is your Father, which is in heaven.
10 Neither be ye called masters: for one is your Master, even Christ.
https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Matthew+23&version=KJV
Religious Fashion Shows
Now Jesus turned to address his disciples, along with the crowd that had
gathered with them. “The religion scholars and Pharisees are competent
teachers in God’s Law. You won’t go wrong in following their teachings on
Moses. But be careful about following them. They talk a good line, but they
don’t live it. They don’t take it into their hearts and live it out in
their behavior. It’s all spit-and-polish veneer. “Instead of giving you
God’s Law as food and drink by which you can banquet on God, they package
it in bundles of rules, loading you down like pack animals. They seem to
take pleasure in watching you stagger under these loads, and wouldn’t think
of lifting a finger to help. Their lives are perpetual fashion shows,
embroidered prayer shawls one day and flowery prayers the next. They love
to sit at the head table at church dinners, basking in the most prominent
positions, preening in the radiance of public flattery, receiving honorary
degrees, and getting called ‘Doctor’ and ‘Reverend.’ “Don’t let people do
that to you, put you on a pedestal like that. You all have a single
Teacher, and you are all classmates. Don’t set people up as experts over
your life, letting them tell you what to do. Save that authority for God;
let him tell you what to do. No one else should carry the title of
‘Father’; you have only one Father, and he’s in heaven. And don’t let
people maneuver you into taking charge of them. There is only one
Life-Leader for you and them—Christ. “Do you want to stand out? Then step
down. Be a servant. If you puff yourself up, you’ll get the wind knocked
out of you. But if you’re content to simply be yourself, your life will
count for plenty.
Frauds!
I’ve had it with you! You’re hopeless, you religion scholars, you
Pharisees! Frauds! Your lives are roadblocks to God’s kingdom. You refuse
to enter, and won’t let anyone else in either. “You’re hopeless, you
religion scholars and Pharisees! Frauds! You go halfway around the world to
make a convert, but once you get him you make him into a replica of
yourselves, double-damned. “You’re hopeless! What arrogant stupidity! You
say, ‘If someone makes a promise with his fingers crossed, that’s nothing;
but if he swears with his hand on the Bible, that’s serious.’ What
ignorance! Does the leather on the Bible carry more weight than the skin on
your hands? And what about this piece of trivia: ‘If you shake hands on a
promise, that’s nothing; but if you raise your hand that God is your
witness, that’s serious’? What ridiculous hairsplitting! What difference
does it make whether you shake hands or raise hands? A promise is a
promise. What difference does it make if you make your promise inside or
outside a house of worship? A promise is a promise. God is present,
watching and holding you to account regardless. “You’re hopeless, you
religion scholars and Pharisees! Frauds! You keep meticulous account books,
tithing on every nickel and dime you get, but on the meat of God’s Law,
things like fairness and compassion and commitment—the absolute basics!—you
carelessly take it or leave it. Careful bookkeeping is commendable, but the
basics are required. Do you have any idea how silly you look, writing a
life story that’s wrong from start to finish, nitpicking over commas and
semicolons? “You’re hopeless, you religion scholars and Pharisees! Frauds!
You burnish the surface of your cups and bowls so they sparkle in the sun,
while the insides are maggoty with your greed and gluttony. Stupid
Pharisee! Scour the insides, and then the gleaming surface will mean
something. “You’re hopeless, you religion scholars and Pharisees! Frauds!
You’re like manicured grave plots, grass clipped and the flowers bright,
but six feet down it’s all rotting bones and worm-eaten flesh. People look
at you and think you’re saints, but beneath the skin you’re total frauds.
“You’re hopeless, you religion scholars and Pharisees! Frauds! You build
granite tombs for your prophets and marble monuments for your saints. And
you say that if you had lived in the days of your ancestors, no blood would
have been on your hands. You protest too much! You’re cut from the same
cloth as those murderers, and daily add to the death count. “Snakes!
Reptilian sneaks! Do you think you can worm your way out of this? Never
have to pay the piper? It’s on account of people like you that I send
prophets and wise guides and scholars generation after generation—and
generation after generation you treat them like dirt, greeting them with
lynch mobs, hounding them with abuse. “You can’t squirm out of this: Every
drop of righteous blood ever spilled on this earth, beginning with the
blood of that good man Abel right down to the blood of Zechariah,
Barachiah’s son, whom you murdered at his prayers, is on your head. All
this, I’m telling you, is coming down on you, on your
generation.“Jerusalem! Jerusalem! Murderer of prophets! Killer of the ones
who brought you God’s news! How often I’ve ached to embrace your children,
the way a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, and you wouldn’t let me.
And now you’re so desolate, nothing but a ghost town. What is there left to
say? Only this: I’m out of here soon. The next time you see me you’ll say,
‘Oh, God has blessed him! He’s come, bringing God’s rule!’”
AMEN, GOD BLESS YOU GUYS =}
Amen.