Sayings of Jesus: “You have heard it said…, but I say to you…”

Within the Sermon on the Mount, in Matthew 5, Jesus makes a series of six statements concerning Old Testament Scriptures, each preceded with “You have heard it said” and followed by “but I say to you.” These are often referred to as the ‘Six Antitheses.’

I’m not sure that’s an entirely helpful characterisation, because we usually think of an ‘antithesis’ as ‘the direct opposite’ of something, whereas Jesus’ statements here are nuanced. He’s not questioning the Scriptures themselves, he’s challenging some of the customary interpretations and applications of those Scriptures by the religious leaders of his day—which we see at the heart of Jesus’ ministry generally, even where that form of words does not appear.  

In the previous chapter, Matthew 4, Jesus is being tempted by Satan in the wilderness, and he responds in each case with a simple “It is written…” The text speaks for itself in each case—there’s no sign of any “but I say to you” caveat. This makes it clear (as Jesus does elsewhere, too) that he sees the Old Testament Scriptures as authoritative. In Matthew 5, however, he is coming against what he sees as inappropriate interpretations and applications of those Scriptures. Scripture may be authoritative, but that does not lead directly to someone’s claimed interpretations and applications of Scriptures being authoritative. This is as true today as it was in Jesus’ time.  

Whenever a fixed, written text is in view—even an inspired text (per 2 Timothy 3:16)—the question of interpretation is never going to be far away. This is why, even though preachers habitually do it, simply quoting “the Bible says” plus a verse is never enough. The person saying that always has an implied interpretation in mind—and usually a corresponding application, too. As if to illustrate why it’s ‘never enough’, in Matthew 4 we see Satan himself quoting “The Bible says.” Which should tell us all we need to know about the inadequacies of that practice!

As I’ve often said, the Bible only functions as ‘The Word of God’ when it’s being read and applied well (consistent with the heart and mind of the divine co-Author revealed in Scripture). Several stories in the Gospels are centred on what Jesus considered inappropriate interpretations and applications of Scripture by legalistic religious types that violated the heart and mind of God towards people; for example, the woman ‘caught in adultery’ in John 8, whom they were insisting should be stoned to death. It’s a prime example in his ministry of legalistic religious types ‘weaponising’ the Bible—placing the interests of doctrinal purity (as they see it) over the interests of people; people God loves and for whose well-being and thriving in life he gave Scripture in the first place (Mark 2:27; John 10:10).  

The recurring theme in Jesus’ frequent arguments with religious leaders of his day was their apparent assumption that ‘loving God’ was defined by and through ‘loving the law of God’. This meant a meticulous application of the written text above and beyond anything else, as if from God’s perspective, that meticulous obedience was the number one goal. Whereas Jesus was saying no, ‘loving God’ is defined by and through ‘loving the people God loves’ and especially the vulnerable, the poor, and the marginalised. This is why Jesus’ Great Commandment features both elements—to make clear that the first (loving God) is fulfilled through practising the second (loving people); in the absence of the second, we are failing to fulfil the first. 1 John 4:20 says, ‘Whoever claims to love God yet hates a brother or sister is a liar. For whoever does not love their brother and sister, whom they have seen, cannot love God, whom they have not seen.’

The function of the law—and I would say, of Scripture generally—was and still is to help mediate the heart and mind of God to us. Sometimes without needing much, if any, interpretation (“It is written…”) and sometimes through the underlying values that are reflected (Bible stories function that way, for example). What we must try never to do is to separate the meaning of a verse from the heart and mind of the God who gave us that verse. This is, surely, what the Reformers had in mind (at least in part) in their concept of looking to Scripture to interpret Scripture: applying what Scripture says generally to what a particular verse says.

So, going back to “You have heard it said” and “but I say to you.” An all-too-common mistake is to assume that when he says this, Jesus is talking about the Old Testament—or at least, ‘the law’ parts—and he’s ‘replacing’ that with his own, superior teaching; tantamount to replacing old ‘Judaism’ with new ‘Christianity’. (I put those words in scare quotes because they’re anachronistic—they did not become clear and distinct identities for some centuries after Jesus). However, in his multiple references to Scripture, Jesus could hardly have been clearer in affirming its divine inspiration. What he was coming against was interpretations and applications of those Scriptures that violated the heart and mind of God. And I suggest he feels the same when people do that with Scriptures today, Old and New, since the principle is the same.

Jesus distinguished “You have heard it said” from “It is written” on these occasions in Matthew 5 because the text itself was not the problem. The problem lay in the interpretations and applications of some of those texts by religious leaders. Remember in Jesus’ day that very few people could read or write for themselves, and no one had personal copies of Scripture as we do, so what most people knew of the Scriptures came from what they heard*—which was coming to them with add-ons. Jesus is refuting a combination of (a) the religious leaders’ ‘add-ons’ to what the text said, and (b) their failure to understand the heart and mind of God in why it said what it said.

*This is why James says, “Don’t just be hearers of the word … do what it says”—where we would say, “Don’t just be readers of the word.” James 1:22–23.  

There’s a simple example in the two elements in verse 43: ‘You have heard that it was said, “Love your neighbour and hate your enemy”.’ Torah does say the first part, but not the second part. Given the hatred the people felt towards the occupying Romans, the add-on is perhaps not surprising—perhaps some religious leaders drew some justification from Psalm 139:21–22: “Do I not hate those who hate you, Lord? … I have nothing but hatred for them; I count them my enemies”. However, Jesus comes against that add-on, because he knows that it doesn’t reflect the heart and mind of God. Nor, for that matter, was David the Psalmist reflecting it, when he wrote those words—what we’re seeing there is some of the humanity in Scripture, rather than the divine voice speaking authoritatively; Psalm 137:9 is another example of that.

Speaking of ‘speaking authoritatively’, the last two verses in the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 7:28–29) say: When Jesus had finished saying these things, the crowds were amazed at his teaching, because he taught as one who had authority, and not as their teachers of the law. I don’t think this means that Jesus claimed authority—in a “Don’t you know who I am?” kind of way—like modern-day so-called apostles and prophets might (and usually do). Nor was it that Jesus spoke in an authoritative Morgan Freeman-like voice, or shouted a lot when he preached. I think the clue lies in the crowd being ‘amazed’. Meaning, that they were astonished, because everything Jesus was saying just made so much sense: “Why hasn’t anyone else ever explained things to us like this?” In practice, the ‘authority of Scripture’ is the authority that we, as hearers, grant to the interpretations and applications of Scripture that seem right to us. And that’s OK, because that’s the reality. We don’t—indeed, we shouldn’t—simply accept the ‘authority’ of the person saying whatever they’re saying. Only if and to the extent that something “seems good to us and the Holy Spirit” (per Acts 15:28). I think that’s what the crowds were sensing here, in contrast to the ‘authority’ of the legalistic religious leaders, whose teachings didn’t feel quite right.  

So what’s the potential application today? Perhaps it’s self-evident from what I’ve said already, but I guess the main takeaway would be to ask ourselves the uncomfortable question of whether we might be guilty of some of the things that the religious leaders of Jesus’ day were getting wrong. We should not assume that they were insincere (though no doubt some were, about some things); it’s possible to be sincere, while still sincerely wrong. Are we reflecting enough on the heart and mind of God in our interpretations and applications of Scripture, or too much on the text ‘stand-alone’? Might we be conceiving loving God too much through the lens of loving the law (for which, today, read ‘doctrines’) and not enough through the lens of loving people? Beware of thinking that the former is ‘conservative’ (and hence, good) while the latter is ‘liberal’ (and hence, bad). Ask yourself whether Jesus was a liberal concerning loving people (I think he was). And ought we to perhaps be more circumspect about the extent to which we insist on ‘The Bible says’, when at times it may actually be an add-on interpretation and application that we’re insisting on?