Hypocrisy

hy·poc·ri·sy

həˈpäkrəsē

noun

the practice of claiming to have moral standards or beliefs to which one’s own behavior does not conform; pretense.

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It was Wednesday before Jesus’ arrest on Friday. With two more days to go, the Son of God knew he didn’t have much time left. He was about to expose the greatest scandal of his time.

It took me years to fully grasp the conflict between Jesus and His adversaries – Teachers of the Law, the scribes, or the Pharisees. Throughout the three years of Jesus’ public ministry, he had to battle the Pharisees like one swatting a pesky fly. Everywhere he went, there would be one or two of them lurking in the bushes looking to catch his mistakes. Then on that Wednesday, Jesus had it. He preached a long, impassioned sermon pronouncing seven woes onto these Pharisees, whom Jesus called ‘hypocrites” emphatically – seven times.

We probably skim through these verses because we think it’s about THEM – the Pharisees. Woe to them and a relief for us because we are NOT them.

Really?

Most Christian teaching I have received since the early years was more about Jesus’ love and how He saved me from sin and hell. I also learned that to convert as many souls as possible was necessary to build up our bank account in Heaven.

Yet, very seldom did I hear messages about how NOT to be a hypocrite.

The modern-day Pharisees are spiritually arrogant people. They believe they are helping God and His Kingdom by enforcing additional rules. They distort the beauty and truth of God’s Word when God’s Word liberates and does not seek to confine. They do not find the need to fellowship with those who do not belong to their tribe or brand of Christianity. They would isolate, marginalize, and despise those that do not follow their code of conduct. Worst yet, they refuse to acknowledge the harm they have caused.

The only original Pharisee that repented was…Apostle Paul.

Read Matthew 23:13-35 in any translation, and you will see a different Jesus. He was fired up, flat out livid, and held very little back.

“No passage in the Bible is more biting, more pointed, and more severe than this pronouncement of Christ upon the Pharisees. It is significant that He singled them out … The Pharisees, while attempting to honor the Word of God and manifesting an extreme form of religious observance, were actually the farthest from God.” (John F. Walvoord)

Although these were the indictment directed at the Pharisees, Jesus was actually addressing the crowds and his disciples. Jesus was speaking to you and me with full strength and resolve.

Gandhi once said to a Christian missionary, “I like your Christ; I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ.” Christians were blamed for apartheid and racial oppression in South Africa. Gandhi was deeply disappointed by his experiences in this segregated nation that his heart completely shut out Christianity.

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It was either a fluke or a destined encounter, a childhood friend of mine from Taiwan spotted me inside a bustling restaurant in the heart of Flushing, Queens. She was able to recognize me as a grown woman after twenty years. “Your nose gave it away,” she said. It was an exciting reunion, and we couldn’t wait to get together again to catch up on our lives. In our conversation, I found out she lived across from the church I was attending at the time. I thought to myself how wonderful it’d be for me to invite her one day. One evening while having dinner together, I told her I had become a Christian. What she said next threw me off.

“You are not going to convert me, are you? Do not try to convert me, okay?”

All I could think of was, “what did OTHER Christians do to you?” I awkwardly chuckled and laughed it off. I never invited her to church.

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For several years, my mother frequently traveled between New York and Houston, spending a few months at a time in either city. For that reason, she was a visitor and irregular attendee in a few churches. She didn’t have the technology to post her whereabouts like what we do now, so her friends and acquaintances didn’t always know where she was. A few weeks after she left my home for Houston, I received a voicemail message on my house phone. It was from a lady my mother met in a church. “你跑到哪里去了?!?!” (“Where did you run off to?!?!”) Her tone was condescending, to say the least, and it almost sounded like a reprimand. Apparently, my mom was MIA, and her church probably sent this “sister” to track her down. I deleted the message and never told my mom about it.

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Friends and relatives have told me they do not want to have anything to do with Christianity because some Christians are hypocrites. I drew a quick conclusion that they were lame excuses.

Sure, you sinners, blame us – let us wait and see what happens on the Judgement Day.

I guess they will probably see me stand in line with them. There comes a twist with a surprise ending – a Christian is found to have corrupted the name of Christ with the damnable sin of self-righteousness.

I should have responded by saying, “Yeah, you’re right. Jesus belabored this point in one of his last sermons, teaching and pleading with his followers not to be like a Pharisee or a hypocrite. Please do not reject Christ because of us. Please receive Him in spite of us.”

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After a nauseating bus ride to Rocky Mountain National Park, we transferred to another shuttle in a Park and Ride. Our family of five was fortunate enough to find seats during the first leg of the trip. In the peak season of the summer, we were stuck in traffic for quite a while. However, we weren’t so lucky after the transfer. I held on to my 10-year-old while my husband stayed with our two other children, barely hanging on in a jam-packed bus. I was getting ready to tough it out. Suddenly, two teenage girls rose from their seats and offered them to my daughter and me.

My daughter was already quite tall and stubby, not smaller than these two teen girls.  Still, I graciously accepted their offer! Then I noticed the t-shirts these girls were wearing. There was a picture of a cross with some names and words that told me they were probably Christians and that they were here for a camp activity. They probably started their day with this prayer, “Lord, show me who I can be good to and who I can help today.”

And they found an anxiety-prone Chinese mother and her 10-year-old daughter on the bus.

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I was ten when my maternal grandparents lived with us in Taipei. My grandfather was bedridden because of a severe stroke. He developed painful bedsores, and I could often hear him groan. His room reeked of the smell of urine and sweat, and his only home aid was my weary grandmother, who would curse him and blame him for her suffering.

There was a small church that met on the first floor of our apartment building. Once a week, a group of 4 to 5 young men and women would come up to visit my grandfather. They stood around him in his windowless bedroom, read Bible passages, and sang worship songs to him. Whenever I peeked in and often did, I’d see my grandfather crack a rare smile. They came every week until he passed away. A memorial service was held for him right in their church downstairs, even though he never set foot in it. These young people probably did notice me and thought I was a clueless child. They would never know what I said to myself at that young age, “If I ever pick a religion, I will pick theirs.”

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The two instances above reveal true charity free of any hints of hypocrisy. True charity with no strings attached and no gimmicks touches a soul to the core. True charity led me to Jesus Christ.