Through the Bible - Matthew

God, who at sundry times and in divers manners spake in time past unto the fathers by the prophets, hath in these last days spoken unto us by his Son, whom he hath appointed heir of all things, by whom also he made the worlds; who being the brightness of his glory, and the express image of his person... when he had by himself purged our sins, sat down on the right hand of the Majesty on high. (Hebrews 1:1–3)

What makes the Old Testament old and the New Testament new—and how Matthew presents Jesus as the long-prophesied King.

From the Old Testament to the New

For the last year we have studied through the Old Testament—the creation of the world, the calling of Abraham, the conception of the nation of Israel, their captivity in and exodus from Egypt, the establishment of the covenant and the priesthood, their entrance into the promised land. We watched as Israel regressed spiritually and retreated before their enemies, cried out, repented, and returned to the Lord—only to relapse and retreat again, over and over during the time of the judges. Then they called for a king, and we followed the rise of the monarchy and the ministry of the prophets.

As we begin a book-a-week journey through the New Testament, an important question stands at the outset: what makes the Old Testament old and the New Testament new? There is a drastic change between the 39th and 40th books of the Bible. Last week we considered the 400-year period of silence—though God was not truly silent, still working behind the scenes. Now a completely new revelation comes, not just to Israel but to the whole world.

God Has Spoken by His Son

Hebrews 1 gives the best answer in the Bible. The Old Testament is about God, and so is the New—the whole of Scripture points to God. In the Old Testament, God revealed Himself to man through men we call prophets, speaking in languages they could understand. He revealed His will to Abraham, and to Moses He revealed Himself as the great I Am, a loving God who heard the cry of His children in Egypt. Through these prophets God revealed His nature, His character, and His will, desiring fellowship with man.

That fellowship, however, was veiled. God gave the priesthood and the sacrifices so that man could draw near, but always there was a veil between His presence and man. In Malachi 3 God says, "I am God and I do not change." He has not changed from Old Testament to New—but the way He reveals Himself has changed.

Consider how much is lost in translation. The way man expresses and understands love is different from the way God expresses it. In our day people speak of a God of love as one who tolerates everything—but the Old Testament shows that is not true. So Jesus came to reveal God in a fuller, more personal way. He is appointed heir of all things; He made the worlds; He is the brightness of God's glory and the express image of His person. If we want to know what God's character, nature, and will are like, we see it in the life of Jesus Christ.

A New Covenant, Foretold and Fulfilled

In the Old Covenant, sins could be dealt with, but it took countless sacrifices—as we saw in Leviticus, the cost of approaching God. Yet Jesus by Himself does not merely cover our sins; He purges them, takes them away, and then sits down at the right hand of the Majesty on high. His last word from the cross is tetelestai—"it is finished." When the work was finished, He sat down in a position of rest.

The word "testament" means covenant. The Old Testament contains many covenants: the Adamic, Noahic, Abrahamic, Mosaic, and Davidic. But the prominent Old Covenant was the one made with Israel at Mount Sinai through Moses—the sacrifices, the priesthood, the tabernacle, the way God could be approached.

The idea of a New Covenant came first from Jesus. On the night He was betrayed, He took the cup and said, "This is my blood of the new covenant, which is shed for many for the remission of sins" (Matthew 26:28). But it was not something Jesus invented; it was spoken of in the Old Testament.

Behold, the days come, saith the LORD, that I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel and with the house of Judah... I will put my law in their inward parts, and write it in their hearts; and will be their God, and they shall be my people... for I will forgive their iniquity, and I will remember their sin no more. (Jeremiah 31:31–34)

Under the Old Covenant, as Hebrews tells us, there always remained a remembrance of sin. But under the New Covenant God forgives our iniquity and remembers our sin no more. That is good news—that is gospel. Ezekiel 36, Isaiah, and many of the prophets spoke of this same coming covenant.

What the Gospels Are—and Are Not

When we come to the 40th book, God speaks to His people not through a prophet but by becoming a man, just as the Old Testament looked forward to. The four Gospels are the foundation of the New Testament, but we must recognize they are accounts of the life of Christ, not full biographies. They are not comprehensive; they focus primarily on His ministry and tell us little about His early years.

In recent years there has been much talk of the so-called apocryphal or Gnostic Gospels—the Gospel of Thomas, of Barnabas, and others popularized by The Da Vinci Code. But these were written much later than Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, and their stories are off the wall. The Gospels we have are not comprehensive because they have a primary focus: the last week of Jesus' life and His death, burial, and resurrection. One author said the Gospels are "passion narratives with long introductions."

Why this focus? Paul tells us in 1 Corinthians 15 that the resurrection is the heart of the good news; if Christ be not raised, we are still dead in our sins, and the New Covenant has not been established. The introductions exist to substantiate the truth of His message. As John 20:31 says, these things were written that you might believe Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and believing, have life.

Why Four Gospels?

Why four Gospels and not one—or twenty? Together they give a fuller understanding of who Jesus is. Two were written by apostles who followed Jesus, and two by men closely identified with apostles: Luke traveled with Paul, and Mark with Peter, so in a sense the Gospel of Luke reflects Paul's message and Mark's reflects Peter's.

The Old Testament prophets revealed the coming Messiah from many angles. Zechariah said He would come as a King ("Behold, thy King cometh," 9:9) and as a man ("Behold the man whose name is The BRANCH," 6:12). Isaiah said He would come as a Servant ("Behold my servant," 42:1) and as God Himself ("Behold your God," 40:9). The four Gospels correspond to these portraits:

• Matthew presents Jesus as the King, quoting Zechariah 9:9 as Jesus enters Jerusalem. Written by a Jew to a Jewish audience, with nearly 130 references to Old Testament prophecy. - Mark presents Jesus as the Servant (Mark 10:45, "the Son of man came... to serve and to give his life a ransom for many"), written to a Roman audience. - Luke presents Jesus as the Son of Man (Luke 19:10, "to seek and to save that which was lost"), written by a Greek physician to a Greek audience. - John presents Jesus as God (John 20:31), written to all audiences.

Matthew, Mark, and Luke are called the synoptic Gospels because they give a clear synopsis of much the same material, though they differ in wording and chronology—and remember, the Gospels are not strictly chronological. A Harmony of the Gospels is a great tool to see where they align. John, by contrast, is over 90% new material, giving us beautiful one-on-one encounters—the woman at the well, Nicodemus, Nathanael, the lame man at Bethesda, the blind man of John 9, the woman caught in adultery.

Matthew the Author and the Structure of His Gospel

Though not written first, Matthew rightly stands first as the logical bridge from Old Testament to New, showing Jesus as the fulfillment of the prophecies of His first coming. You meet its author in Matthew 9—a man named Levi, hinting at the priestly tribe of Levi, yet working as a publican, a tax collector. The scribes and Pharisees branded tax collectors as sinners and traitors, Benedict Arnolds collecting taxes for the hated Romans.

We can only speculate, but Levi may have grown up watching the priesthood turn from God into wickedness and concluded the whole thing was a farce—so he became a tax collector. Then Jesus called him: "Follow me," and he left all and followed. Tax collectors, like scribes, were meticulous record-keepers, which makes Matthew uniquely prepared to preserve Jesus' lengthy discourses: the Sermon on the Mount (chapters 5–7), the parables, and the Olivet Discourse (chapters 24–25).

Matthew's genealogy runs from Abraham through David to Christ, fulfilling the Davidic Covenant. Strikingly, this Jewish author writing to Jews highlights two Gentile women—Rahab, who hid the spies and hung the scarlet cord, and Ruth the Moabitess—both in the line of the Messiah.

A simple outline follows the phrase "from that time": - The Preparation of the King (1:1–4:16): genealogy, Egypt, John the Baptist, the baptism, and the temptation. - The Preaching of the King (4:17, "from that time Jesus began to preach")—through 16:20. - The Passion of the King (16:21, "from that time forth began Jesus to shew unto his disciples how... he must go unto Jerusalem")—to the end.

The book further divides by the recurring phrase, "when Jesus had finished these sayings": after the Sermon on the Mount (7:28), after instructing His disciples (11:1), after the parables (13:53), and after His Galilean ministry as He moves to Judea (19:1). Each marks the close of a discourse and a shift in His ministry.

The Authority of His Teaching

After the Sermon on the Mount, the people "were astonished at his doctrine: for he taught them as one having authority, and not as the scribes" (7:28–29). The word is exousia—jurisdiction, the authority of a king over his region. In Jesus' day teaching had become a recital of rabbinic opinion preserved in the Midrash and Mishnah—"Rabbi so-and-so says this." But Jesus said, "Ye have heard that it was said by them of old time... but I say unto you." He taught with His own authority, and the people were astonished.

When He finished instructing His disciples (chapter 10), He had given them exousia—authority over unclean spirits and sicknesses—and sent them to preach. The miracles substantiated the message. Jesus did not come merely to heal the sick or raise the dead; He came to preach, and the signs followed the preaching. If you want to see God do the miraculous, get out on the mission field where the message has not yet been heard. In America the harvest is plentiful but the laborers are abundant and the message is already here, so we often do not see the same signs—though God still substantiates His word.

The Sermon on the Mount: Citizens of the Kingdom

The Sermon on the Mount is the longest recorded teaching of Jesus, the message of the kingdom of heaven. Note the occasion and audience in 5:1: seeing the multitudes, He went up into a mountain, and His disciples came to Him. This is addressed to followers of Christ—common men, fishermen, tax collectors, zealots—who would soon reach those multitudes. It teaches how citizens of the kingdom are to live here in the physical world: murder, adultery, oaths, almsgiving, prayer, fasting, worry. And honestly, when you try to live the way Jesus describes, you will find it is impossible.

Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven... Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted... Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth... Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled... Blessed are the pure in heart: for they shall see God... (Matthew 5:3–8)

The Beatitudes are a progression. "Blessed"—oh how happy—are the poor in spirit, those who recognize they have nothing to get them into heaven. That person inherits the kingdom because no one enters by religious effort. Even Nicodemus, the most religious man of the day, was told he must be born again. And Jesus tells His disciples, "Except your righteousness shall exceed the righteousness of the scribes and Pharisees, ye shall in no case enter into the kingdom of heaven" (5:20)—a word that surely sank their hearts.

The poor in spirit begin to mourn over their condition—like the men in Acts 2 who were cut to the heart and cried, "What must we do?" They are comforted by the Comforter. They become meek, recognizing "O wretched man that I am." Then they hunger and thirst after righteousness—"God, if it's not You, it's nothing"—and they shall be filled. From there the fruit of the Spirit is built in: the merciful obtain mercy; the pure in heart (those given a new heart, Ezekiel 36:26) see God; the peacemakers, given His peace, carry the ministry of reconciliation and the gospel of peace to those at enmity with God. This is not national peace—for those who carry that peace will be persecuted.

Blessed are those persecuted for righteousness' sake—not for being idiots, but for following Christ. When you are persecuted, Jesus fixes your focus back on heaven: "Great is your reward in heaven." This momentary, light affliction is nothing compared to the glory to come. Then He sends His disciples on mission: "Ye are the salt of the earth... ye are the light of the world. Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven."

Righteousness That Exceeds the Pharisees

"Think not that I am come to destroy the law, or the prophets: I am not come to destroy, but to fulfil." Jesus is the fulfillment of all the law and the prophets. Whoever keeps and teaches the commandments will be called great in the kingdom—but our righteousness must exceed that of the scribes and Pharisees. They were whitewashed tombs, clean outside but defiled within, possessing external righteousness but not inward purity. Inward purity comes from God, who gives a new heart. So the righteousness required is the righteousness of Christ in us—"Christ in you, the hope of glory." We do not stand in our own righteousness which is by the law, but in the righteousness which is by faith. He who knew no sin became sin for us, that we might be made the righteousness of God in Him.

Jesus then turns the law from external action to internal heart. "Ye have heard that it was said... Thou shalt not kill... but I say unto you, That whosoever is angry with his brother without a cause shall be in danger of the judgment." The response is reconciliation: leave your gift at the altar, go be reconciled to your brother, then come and offer. Likewise with adultery: "whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her hath committed adultery with her already in his heart." The call is drastic action against sin—do whatever it takes to distance yourself from what causes you to fall.

He goes on through divorce, oaths ("let your communication be, Yea, yea; Nay, nay"), retaliation ("turn to him the other also," "go with him twain"), and love of enemies: "Love your enemies, bless them that curse you... pray for them which despitefully use you," that you may be children of your Father in heaven, who sends sun and rain on the just and the unjust. He concludes: "Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect" (5:48).

Living by the Power of the Spirit

All of this describes the external, physical life of a child of the kingdom here on earth. The gospel is intensely practical. If you have been transformed—coming to God poor in spirit, mourning over sin, crying out in humility to be filled with His righteousness—then you have been given a new heart and the Holy Spirit, the very power of God to live as He has called you to live. To say "I can't" is, as Scripture defines it, a lie, because God says by His Spirit He has given you power. As we walk in the Spirit we will not fulfill the lust of the flesh; we will show forth the fruit of the Spirit.

I am not saying our righteousness earns the kingdom—we have none; we come poor in spirit and He gives us His righteousness. But as children of God our lives, words, and actions should mimic the life of a child of God, because He dwells in us. If you find yourself tripping over a besetting sin, the power of the Spirit dwells in you, but you are yielding to your flesh. How do we yield to the Spirit? We come willing to obey, asking, "Lord, give me Your strength, Your patience in this situation," and He will answer and give you the choice to rely on His strength or yours.

And if you fail—we all do—1 John 1:9 says confess your sins, and He is faithful and just to forgive and cleanse. This sounds too easy, but understand what the Bible says. If you are angry with your spouse, murdering them in your heart—don't merely try harder. Bring it to God every time, take every thought captive, agree with Him that it is even the sin of murder, and confess it. He forgives and cleanses—that word means to prune, to sanctify—and as you repeatedly bring it to Him, He begins to remove it. The same with lust and adultery of the heart: stop calling it a little thing; bring it to God, confess it, and I guarantee He will remove it.

I have heard the funniest attempts to beat down sin—one man snapped a rubber band on his wrist with every lustful thought and walked around with red wrists, still unable to conquer it. That is not the way. We come to Him poor in spirit, weeping over our sin, humbled, calling it what it is, and crying out, "God, give me Your righteousness." And He gives us mercy, His character, a new heart, and makes us a new creation. That is the good news of the gospel.

Closing Prayer

Father, I am burdened, because I know some of my brothers and sisters here tonight are still living under the law—still trying to do righteousness instead of being righteous. Lord, we are righteous not because of what we have done but because of what You did on the cross; we are righteous because You have indwelt us. You call us to be perfect and holy even as You our Father in heaven are perfect and holy. We are just dirt, and we cannot be holy by our own works—but Lord, in Exodus 3 there was dirt You called holy ground because Your presence was there, and You have made us holy tonight because You indwell us.

As You look at us, Your Word says You see us as perfect, without spot or blemish—yet we see all our spots and blemishes. Stir our hearts to be poor in spirit, to weep and mourn for our sin and bring it to You humbly, saying, "This is sin, Lord; I need Your righteousness." And You will fill us, as You promised. Loose my brothers and sisters from the law. The law has its purpose—to bring the knowledge of sin and to point us to You, the One who deals with it. Thank You that You have removed our sin as far as the east is from the west, that You did not merely cover it but completely removed it, remembering it no more. We praise You in Jesus' name. Amen.