Line Upon LineLine Upon Line
Luke 12

Lines and Lambs | Sunday, September 6, 2026

September 6, 2026 · Pastor Miles DeBenedictis

In this teaching

Returning to Luke 12, Pastor Miles teaches that Jesus's warning against "the leaven of the Pharisees, which is hypocrisy" is rooted in the Old Testament Passover and Feast of Unleavened Bread: God's people are delivered by the blood of the Lamb and then purge out sin because they have been redeemed. The great danger is that religious commitment can become mere performance, a covering we hide behind, when what we truly need is the broken body and shed blood of Christ, our Passover Lamb.

  • Luke 12 ("in the meantime") continues from Luke 11, where the Pharisees and scribes began turning against Jesus and seeking to trap him.
  • Leaven, from Genesis and Exodus onward, is a picture of sin that spreads and permeates the whole lump; the New Testament (1 Corinthians 5) applies this to the church.
  • Israel was spared by the blood of the Passover lamb, not by their cleaning; they purged leaven because they had already been redeemed.
  • Jesus aims his warning not at the crowd but at his disciples, and names the leaven precisely: hypocrisy.
  • Biblical "hypocrisy" is speaking rehearsed lines for a character you are not — religious performance breeds judgmentalism and arrogance.
  • Everything hidden will be revealed; the only questions are when and how, so we must open our lives, confess sin, and rest in Christ our Passover.

Readable is a lightly edited reading copy; Verbatim stays close to the spoken words. The audio and video are the record of what was said.

In the meantime, when an innumerable multitude of people had gathered together so that they trampled one another, He began to say to His disciples first of all, "Beware of the leaven of the Pharisees, which is hypocrisy. For there is nothing covered that will not be revealed, nor hidden that will not be known. Therefore whatever you have spoken in the dark will be heard in the light, and what you have spoken in the ear in the inner rooms will be proclaimed on the housetops. And I say to you, My friends, do not be afraid of those who kill the body, and after that have no more that they can do. But I will show you whom you should fear: Fear Him who, after He has killed, has power to cast into hell; yes, I say to you, fear Him!" ()

Religious commitment can quietly become religious performance — and Jesus warns his closest followers to beware.

Returning to Luke After the Detour

Thirteen weeks ago, we took a detour out of the Gospel of Luke for our summer series, eavesdropping on private conversations across the Old and New Testaments — Moses at the burning bush, Nicodemus at midnight, the woman at the well, Peter on the rooftop in Joppa, Paul and Silas in the Philippian jail. We finished with Jesus and Peter on the beach of Galilee, where the last words Jesus gave Peter were the same as the first: "Follow me." So we follow the Lord back to .

We are not opening a new subject. begins with a connecting phrase — "in the meantime" — that reaches back to , where we left off. There a certain Pharisee had invited Jesus to a meal, and Jesus's host quickly turned inhospitable because Jesus did not ceremonially wash his hands according to the Pharisees' very particular rules. This was not about hygiene; it was about ritual. And it triggered them.

The Turning Point Against Jesus

Jesus responded by speaking six woes straight down the table to the Pharisees and to the experts of the law — the scribes who copied the manuscripts of the Pentateuch by hand, since there were no printing presses. "Woe" is a prophetic word, echoing Isaiah, expressing both awe at the audacity of a thing and a pronouncement of judgment.

How did that go? Just as you'd expect. says, "The scribes and the Pharisees began to assail Him vehemently, and to cross-examine Him about many things, lying in wait for Him, and seeking to catch Him in something He might say, that they might accuse Him." This is a real turning point. Early on, many of these religious leaders were interested spectators — Nicodemus even came saying, "We know that You are a teacher come from God." They were the guardians of the faith, watching and assessing. But now, at the midpoint of Luke, they turn. They are seething with rage, still seething, when chapter 12 opens.

The Value of Saying It Again

Some of you will notice this sounds familiar to what we saw at the end of May, and you'll be partly right. We'll return to these themes again in the coming months, and that's a good thing. Paul told the Philippians that writing the same things again is not tedious but safe. Peter wrote in , "I will not be negligent to remind you always of these things, even though you know them and are established in the present truth." Two apostles, two epistles, two ways of saying it, one instruction: sometimes we have to say it again.

Any parent knows this. Look both ways before you cross the road. Brush your teeth. Chew your food. Don't kick your sister. Over and over. Our loving Father in heaven does the same. The more you read the Bible, the more you see the themes repeated — sometimes with sheep and shepherd, sometimes with vine and fruit, sometimes wheat and tares — the same core truth said different ways until it finally sticks. This morning the image is yeast.

Leaven Begins in Genesis

Before we can hear what Jesus says, we need to hear what his disciples heard. For a first-century Jew, "leaven" carried a meaning far beyond pizza dough and sourdough. To grasp it, we go back to the beginning.

In , God beholds His creation and seven times pronounces it "good," concluding, "God saw everything that He had made, and indeed it was very good." But it didn't stay that way. In , Adam and Eve ate of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, which I'm convinced was not forbidden forever but not yet — they were not mature enough for what it would expose. Notice the very first thing their sin produced: "Then the eyes of both of them were opened, and they knew that they were naked; and they sewed fig leaves together and made themselves coverings" (). The first thing sin ever produced was a desire for a costume, to cover it up. Hold that word — coverings.

Sin Spreads Like Yeast

Throughout Scripture, yeast and leaven are connected to wickedness and sin — "a little leaven leavens the whole lump." Sin does what sin does. It was just a bite of fruit, not a big deal. But in it becomes murder; in and 6 it spreads until "the thoughts of man's heart was only evil continually." It multiplies and it produces death. Fittingly, the last word of Genesis is a coffin — the book starts with creation and ends with a coffin.

Sin spreads until you are in bondage, in slavery to it. That is where we find the children of Israel in Exodus, enslaved in Egypt — a picture of the world. That is not just their story; it is ours. Every one of us comes to realize we are gripped by something we cannot escape. It is called sin. And the only hope for a slave in Egypt is deliverance.

The Passover Lamb and the Cleansing of the House

It took ten plagues to redeem Israel. Just before the tenth, God prepared His people, and the order is crucial because it is the gospel. On the tenth day of the month they were to select an unblemished male lamb of the first year, inspect it until the fourteenth, and at twilight sacrifice it, putting its blood on the doorposts. As the destroyer passed through Egypt, wherever it saw the blood, it would pass over. This became the Feast of Passover. "The blood shall be a sign for you... and when I see the blood, I will pass over you" ().

Then, for seven days beginning the fifteenth day, Israel was to keep the Feast of Unleavened Bread (; ). And Jewish families have done this ever since: open the house, the windows, the cupboards, every bowl and container, and purge out all the leaven — sweep it into the open and get it out of the house. Why? Because leaven is a picture of sin, which, if left, permeates and grows.

Notice the sequence. The lamb dies first; the blood goes on the doorpost. Then, for a full week, they root out every trace of yeast. God did not pass over the clean house — He passed over the house with blood on the doorpost. The cleaning did not earn deliverance; the blood of the lamb secured it. They swept the house because they had already been redeemed.

Christ Our Passover

"That's old covenant," you might say. "It has nothing to do with us." Except Paul picks it up in . The Corinthian church was proud of tolerating gross sin — a man living with his stepmother — and Paul says, "Your glorying is not good. Do you not know that a little leaven leavens the whole lump? Therefore purge out the old leaven, that you may be a new lump, since you truly are unleavened. For indeed Christ, our Passover, was sacrificed for us."

Those Passover sheep, slaughtered for 1,400 years, all pointed to Jesus. John the Baptist said, "Behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world." So Paul says: you have been redeemed from bondage by Christ our Passover Lamb, whose blood is on the doorpost of your heart. "Therefore let us keep the feast, not with old leaven... but with the unleavened bread of sincerity and truth."

Point one: God's people did not sweep the house to be spared. They swept the house because they already were. You have been set free from sin and death — so now purge out the sin. What does that look like? Exactly what the Jewish families did: open the doors, let the light in, look in every corner, and sweep the leaven out into the open. But our inclination is the opposite — hide it. Don't let anyone know I'm a sinner. Scripture says: open it up.

Beware the Leaven of the Pharisees

Back to . In the meantime, an innumerable multitude gathered, trampling one another to get to Jesus — the height of his popularity. There are three things to note in .

First, look at the crowd. This would seem the perfect moment to seize the spotlight, to let everyone see how amazing he is. He doesn't do that. Second, look at whom he addresses: "He began to say to His disciples first of all." He pulls back from the crowd, lowers his voice, and speaks to his team. Jesus wasn't building a brand; he was making people brand new. That's what his church has been about for 2,000 years.

Point two: Jesus aimed his warning at the front row, not the back. His warnings about religious fakery would have pleased the mob, who disliked the Pharisees too. But he wasn't trying to please a crowd; he was building up his inner circle to make them more pleasing to God.

He Tells Us Exactly What He Means

Third, look at what he does not leave us to guess. Had he only said, "Beware of the leaven of the Pharisees," we could have spent 2,000 years guessing — their showiness, their rigidity, their pomposity, their burdensome standards, their relentless converting. But Jesus names it: "which is hypocrisy." That one word brings the whole frame into focus.

Notice what he did not say. Not "beware of their extreme commitment to religious ritual," or "their seriousness about the Scriptures," or "their praying, fasting, and giving too much." Many things the Pharisees did were not bad. Before we bash them — as has been done for 2,000 years — we should give them their due. The Pharisees can be commended for their commitment.

Where the Pharisees Came From

They arose in the postexilic, second-temple period. After Nebuchadnezzar destroyed the first temple in the sixth century BC and carried Israel to Babylon, the people were captives for seventy years. When Cyrus said they could return, only a small, committed group said, "Let's go" — to rebuild the temple, clean up the city, never drift or worship idols again, never mishandle the law again, and get the leaven out. That group of separatists is where the Pharisees came from. Many of us would like those people.

Then 400 years happened. One generation built a fence; the next added a level; the next added another, until Jesus came to a Pharisee's home and they could not recognize God in their midst — walled off from him by rules. Even Jesus gave them their due: "The scribes and the Pharisees sit in Moses' seat; therefore whatever they tell you to observe, observe and do" (). They believed the Scriptures, believed in the resurrection, prayed, fasted, and tithed with a seriousness we can barely imagine.

The problem: they came to trust all those things for their standing before God. They swept the house of all leaven and thought that made them right with God. They forgot the blood of the lamb — which came first. They became what my friend Larry calls "accidental Pharisees." Jesus is not warning the disciples about the Pharisees so much as warning them not to become like them.

Point three: Nobody decides to become a Pharisee. You just lean your weight on a good but wrong thing. Nobody wakes up wanting to be a hypocrite. But take a good thing, lean all your weight on it, and you begin to think that good thing holds you up rather than Christ. So Jesus says: beware of the covering. What did Adam and Eve do the moment they sinned? They made coverings.

What Hypocrisy Actually Is

We all have some idea of the word "hypocrisy," but for a first-century Jew this Greek word carried a specific meaning tied to the theater — the Greek comedy, tragedy, and drama. The word originally grew out of an ordinary word for an answer, and came to be associated with stage actors who learned their lines, their answers, their script. People often connect it to the masks of Greek drama, but that's a different word. This word is the lines the actors spoke — the script they followed.

Point four: A hypocrite is not someone hiding behind a mask. He is someone speaking lines written for a character he is not. You're playing a part. You've learned what to say and when, the right time to smile, to laugh, to cry. You are, as the young people say, LARPing righteousness — live-action role-playing. I had to look it up.

The Church as a Hypocrite Factory

Can we be honest about how easily church becomes a hypocrite factory? Stay long enough and you learn the right things to say — "How are you?" "Oh, blessed" — when to stand, when to sit, when to kneel, which prayers to pray when. None of those things are necessarily bad. But if they're what you're leaning on, they will not hold you up. You can learn the rituals, the liturgy, the postures, do them all at the right times, and be told, "Do all this and you're good." At first it feels wrong — surely it's more than this. But after a while you feel pretty good, and that breeds two things: judgmentalism and arrogance. You grade yourself gently and others strictly.

If you've ever felt better about yourself because of your attendance, service, giving, prayer life, or devotions, you might be a Pharisee. If you've measured someone else by their lack of those things, you might be a Pharisee. If you've been more bothered by someone's music, tattoos, or politics than by your own prayerlessness, you might be a Pharisee. If you have a bad category for the Christmas-and-Easter crowd, you might be a Pharisee. If you've edited a prayer on the fly for how others might hear it; if you're more upset about being embarrassed than about being wrong; if you've been a little relieved when someone else fell — you might be a Pharisee. And if you've spent the last two minutes thinking how badly someone else needs to hear this, you might be a Pharisee.

Everything Hidden Will Be Revealed

Here you might expect Jesus to say, "Do better." He says something much heavier. "For there is nothing covered that will not be revealed, nor hidden that will not be known. Therefore whatever you have spoken in the dark will be heard in the light, and what you have spoken in the ear in the inner rooms will be proclaimed on the housetops."

Catch the verbs: will be revealed, will be known, will be proclaimed — not "might be." And they are passive, as though someone else does the revealing. You've been hiding under a veneer, made your own covering to close up the house. God says it's spring cleaning — the blood is on the doorpost, you've been forgiven, so open it up and let it be purged. But we say, "Don't. Hide this. Don't let anyone know."

It is not a question of whether it will be revealed, but when and how. There are two options. First, the Feast of Unleavened Bread: open it up, sweep it out, say, "God, here it is," and let His consuming fire burn it away. Or, close it up — and Paul says in , "Each one's work will become clear; for the Day will declare it, because it will be revealed by fire; and the fire will test each one's work." That is not a great day.

Point five: You will be exposed either way. The only questions are when and how.

Come to the Feast

That's frightening — what do we do with it? Paul already told us: "Therefore purge out the old leaven... let us keep the feast, not with old leaven... but with the unleavened bread of sincerity and truth. For indeed Christ, our Passover, was sacrificed for us."

So partake of the feast Jesus instituted on the night he was betrayed, before the Lamb of God took away the sin of the world. He took bread and said, "This is My body which is broken for you; do this in remembrance of Me." And he took the cup: "This is the blood of the new covenant in My blood; this do, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of Me." His blood is shed to be placed on the doorpost of your heart, that you may be purged of your sin and made a new lump, holy and rightly standing before the Lord.

Church is a dangerous place — a hypocrite factory — because good things, done long enough, can make you forget the Lamb and trust the lines. You said the right things, smiled and nodded at the right moments, and think you're okay. Jesus says no: you still need the broken body and the shed blood. But you can get sick at the ER, and that doesn't mean you shouldn't go. Church is the perfect and right place to be brought back to Christ through his broken body and shed blood, by which we are redeemed, delivered, and made clean.

Closing Prayer

Lord, we thank You that our standing — set free from bondage to sin and death — is not because we purged out the leaven. Our standing is because Your body and blood were broken and shed. And now, by Your Spirit, You want to make us a new lump. You do that when we come before You, opening the doors and windows and saying, "God, this is who I am. Will You forgive me?" You inspired John to write that if we confess our sin, You are faithful and just to forgive us and to cleanse us of all unrighteousness. We thank You for Your cleansing power. We open the doors of our hearts and say, "God, clean us out." We rejoice in Your goodness. Help us not to become accidental Pharisees — it's easy — but to walk in Your righteousness, not our own. Any righteousness we have is not ours; it is what You have given us. We rejoice in that. In Jesus' name, amen.

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