Matthew Chapter 6
Matthew 6:1 — Doing Good to Please God, Not Man
“Take heed that you do not do your charitable deeds before men, to be seen by them. Otherwise you have no reward from your Father in heaven.” (Matthew 6:1, NKJV)
Jesus shifts from correcting false interpretations of the Law in chapter 5 to confronting false motivations in chapter 6. The emphasis turns inward: not just what we do, but why we do it. The focus is not merely on outward righteousness, but on whether our heart is truly set on glorifying God or impressing others.
The phrase “charitable deeds” (Greek: dikaiosynē) literally means “acts of righteousness.” These include giving, prayer, and fasting, which were the core pillars of Jewish religious life. Jesus is not discouraging these acts; He is warning against hypocrisy and performative religion—doing good not for God's approval, but for the applause of men.
Jesus calls for vigilance—"Take heed"—as if to say: Watch your heart carefully in this. Hypocrisy is subtle. It is entirely possible to do the right thing outwardly while inwardly seeking human admiration rather than divine pleasure. This is especially dangerous because it masquerades as holiness. What begins as devotion can easily be hijacked by pride.
Jesus contrasts two rewards: the praise of men versus the reward of the Father in heaven. If your goal is to be seen and admired by others, you will receive your reward—but that is all you will receive. The Greek word translated “have” in “you have no reward” is a commercial term implying a full payment has been made. If you've been praised, you've been paid in full—and nothing more is due from heaven.
This teaching echoes the rebuke later directed at the Pharisees: “But all their works they do to be seen by men” (Matthew 23:5, NKJV). Such outward show betrays the deeper corruption of a heart that seeks glory for self, not for God. Jesus condemned this false piety not only because it was spiritually dead, but because it misrepresented the nature of God’s Kingdom, which begins in secret and is rooted in humility.
This principle also helps harmonize Matthew 6:1 with Matthew 5:16: “Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven.” There is no contradiction. The difference lies in the intent. In chapter 5, the purpose is that God may be glorified. In chapter 6, Jesus condemns doing good works so that we may be glorified. The issue is not visibility but motivation.
This verse also serves as a thesis statement for the next section of the Sermon on the Mount, which will deal with three key disciplines: giving, praying, and fasting. Each discipline is examined in light of the heart's intent. The pattern is clear: when these disciplines are performed to impress others, they lose their spiritual value; when done in secret before God, they bring eternal reward.
Jesus' warning stands as a rebuke to religious performance and an invitation to authentic, God-centered devotion. We are to seek the pleasure of the Father in heaven, not the applause of an audience on earth.
Matthew 6:2–4 — Giving in Secret: True Righteousness Before God
“Therefore, when you do a charitable deed, do not sound a trumpet before you as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, that they may have glory from men. Assuredly, I say to you, they have their reward. But when you do a charitable deed, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, that your charitable deed may be in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will Himself reward you openly.” (Matthew 6:2–4, NKJV)
Jesus now gives a concrete example of false righteousness: giving for public recognition. The expression “when you do a charitable deed” assumes that His followers will give. Jesus is not questioning if they will give, but challenging how and why they do so.
“Do not sound a trumpet before you” is a vivid phrase. There is no historical evidence that literal trumpets were blown to announce one’s giving. Jesus is likely using satire, pointing to the ridiculous extent some would go to display their righteousness. During Jewish festivals, when the trumpet would sound to mark key moments, some would use the opportunity to conspicuously give their alms, leveraging the moment for public attention.
The command is clear: do not be like the hypocrites. The term hypocrite in the Greek (hypokritēs) was used for stage actors, people who wore masks and played roles. These religious actors were performing—not before God, but before an earthly audience. Their concern was image, not integrity. They sought honor from men, not favor from heaven.
Jesus gives a solemn truth: “They have their reward.” The Greek phrase means they have been “paid in full.” Whatever applause, admiration, or social elevation they received—that was it. The transaction is closed. There is no residual eternal benefit. It is a sobering warning: if the motive is to be seen by men, then the full reward has already been received—on earth.
Instead, Jesus gives a radically different model: “Do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing.” This is hyperbole for secrecy. It emphasizes discretion so complete that even the giver should avoid self-congratulation. In other words, Jesus commands us not only to avoid boasting, but to avoid the self-righteous inflation of our own ego. This goes beyond external secrecy and calls for internal humility.
“That your charitable deed may be in secret” points to the heart of kingdom living. This verse confronts our tendency to measure godliness by recognition. We are reminded that the Father sees in secret. While the world measures virtue by visibility, God measures it by sincerity. We do not need to announce righteousness if we believe that God sees everything—even the unseen corners of our hearts.
And Jesus promises: “Your Father who sees in secret will Himself reward you openly.” The Father not only sees, He rewards. The reward of God is not only far better—it is certain. God’s rewards are not always immediate, but they are always perfect. He knows how to give “good things to those who ask Him” (Matthew 7:11), and He knows how to reward those who quietly walk in obedience.
This truth challenges the social media age, where even acts of charity can be filtered and posted for likes and comments. Jesus’ words force us to ask: Who is my audience? If we live for God’s glory, we do not need human recognition. Our ambition is not to be seen by others, but to be seen by Him.
Ultimately, this passage calls us back to the central principle of Matthew 6:1—do righteousness not to be seen, but to please the Father. True giving is not a performance; it is worship. It is done in secret, before the eyes of the only One whose opinion truly matters.
Matthew 6:5–6 — Private Prayer: Seeking God, Not an Audience
“And when you pray, you shall not be like the hypocrites. For they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the corners of the streets, that they may be seen by men. Assuredly, I say to you, they have their reward. But you, when you pray, go into your room, and when you have shut your door, pray to your Father who is in the secret place; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you openly.” (Matthew 6:5–6, NKJV)
Jesus transitions from the subject of giving to the spiritual discipline of prayer. Once again, He assumes that His followers will pray. Prayer is not optional in the life of the believer; it is foundational. However, just as with giving, the danger is in performing spiritual acts for the wrong audience.
“You shall not be like the hypocrites” – The problem is not that these people prayed, but that they prayed with corrupt motives. The word hypocrites once again draws from theatrical imagery: these are people playing a religious role. They stand in visible, elevated locations—in synagogues and at busy street corners—not to reach heaven but to attract human applause.
In Jewish practice, there were three designated times of prayer each day: morning (9 a.m.), afternoon (3 p.m.), and evening. The Pharisees often structured their daily schedule so they would be in prominent public locations at these times, allowing them to make a visible show of their devotion.
Jesus is not condemning public prayer or visible worship, but He is condemning the motive of those who use spiritual disciplines as a platform for self-exaltation. When we treat prayer as a performance rather than a petition, we replace intimacy with vanity. These men were not speaking to God—they were using God as a prop to appear holy in the eyes of others. Such actions insult the very purpose of prayer, which is to commune with the living God.
“They have their reward.” This line echoes the warning given in verse 2. Those who use prayer as performance should not expect anything from heaven. The Greek wording implies full payment has been rendered. The claps of men are all they will ever receive. Heaven will be silent toward the self-righteous showman.
“But you, when you pray, go into your room…” Jesus now gives the proper model. The word room (Greek: tameion) referred to a storeroom or inner chamber, often without windows. It was a secluded, private place where others could not see. This instruction doesn’t prohibit public or corporate prayer, which is modeled throughout Scripture (see Acts 1:14; 1 Timothy 2:1–2). Rather, it confronts the heart motive: if we cannot pray in secret, if we have no private communion with the Father, our public prayers are hollow.
The instruction to “shut your door” emphasizes intentional privacy. This is not a careless or incidental moment of prayer—it is a deliberate withdrawal from the world to focus on God. In the secret place, we impress no one. There is no audience to applaud, no peer to compare ourselves with, only the Father who listens attentively.
“Your Father who is in the secret place…” — What a profound truth! God is not impressed by grand orations. He is not moved by outward performance. He waits for His children in the quiet place. He is present not merely in the sanctuary or the synagogue, but in the hidden space where the heart is laid bare. He meets us there—not because of how we perform, but because of who we are in Christ.
And the promise is clear: “He will reward you openly.” This is not always material reward or public vindication—it may be peace that surpasses understanding, wisdom from above, or divine guidance. But it is certain: the God who sees our heart and hears our whispered cries will not leave us unrewarded. He answers in His time and in His way.
This passage challenges the believer to examine their secret life with God. Are we more eager to be seen praying than to truly pray? Do we find joy in being noticed by others, or in being heard by God? Jesus is calling us away from the stage and into the closet—to pursue the presence of God rather than the praise of man.
Matthew 6:7–8 — The Right Way to Pray: Sincere, Thoughtful, Trusting
“And when you pray, do not use vain repetitions as the heathen do. For they think that they will be heard for their many words. Therefore do not be like them. For your Father knows the things you have need of before you ask Him.” (Matthew 6:7–8, NKJV)
Jesus continues His teaching on authentic prayer, moving from where and why to now address how we pray. After warning against the hypocrisy of praying to be seen by others, He now warns against the mechanical, mindless practices of the Gentiles — the pagan nations who prayed without knowledge of the true and living God.
“Do not use vain repetitions as the heathen do.” The Greek word translated “vain repetitions” (battalogeo) is rare and possibly coined by Jesus Himself. It has the connotation of stammering, babbling, or endlessly repeating phrases in an effort to coerce a deity into action. The Lord is not moved by formulaic chants or spiritual noise. He is not manipulated by length or verbosity. Paganism often assumes that the gods are reluctant to act, that they must be persuaded by continual nagging. But Jesus teaches that the true God is not like this.
In Jewish thought, long prayers were sometimes esteemed as more powerful. The rabbis said, “Whoever is long in prayer is heard.” And while fervent, persistent prayer is certainly biblical (Luke 18:1), it must be guided by sincere dependence, not empty phrases. This rebuke isn’t against long prayers, but against thoughtless ones.
Old Testament examples warn of this kind of error. The prophets of Baal cried out for hours on Mount Carmel (1 Kings 18:26), and the mob in Ephesus shouted for two straight hours, “Great is Artemis of the Ephesians!” (Acts 19:34). None of it mattered, because none of it was aimed toward the true God.
Prayer must come from the heart. As Charles Spurgeon noted, “Christians' prayers are measured by weight, not by length. Many of the most prevailing prayers have been as short as they were strong.” The power of prayer lies not in eloquence but in sincerity. It is not the mouth but the heart that moves God. A prayer may be long or short, poetic or plain—but if it lacks communion with the Father, it is vain.
The Lord is not impressed by mechanical incantations. Ecclesiastes 5:2 wisely cautions, “Do not be rash with your mouth, and let not your heart utter anything hastily before God. For God is in heaven, and you on earth; therefore let your words be few.” Prayer is a privilege, not a performance.
“For your Father knows the things you have need of before you ask Him.” This statement does not discourage prayer—it elevates it. We do not inform God when we pray. He is omniscient. We do not awaken His concern or instruct Him in our circumstances. Instead, prayer is an invitation into relationship. It is an act of trust, where the creature brings his needs before the Creator—not because God is unaware, but because He delights in our dependence on Him.
This insight rebukes a performance-based approach to prayer. It also comforts the believer: your heavenly Father already knows. Before the words leave your mouth, He understands your burden. As Psalm 139:4 says, “For there is not a word on my tongue, but behold, O Lord, You know it altogether.”
Yet, He still invites us to pray. Why? As Adam Clarke beautifully observed, “Prayer is not designed to inform God, but to give man a sight of his misery; to humble his heart, to excite his desire, to inflame his faith, to animate his hope, to raise his soul from earth to heaven.”
Jesus will soon offer a model prayer—often called “The Lord’s Prayer”—not as a liturgical formula, but as a guide to how God's children ought to approach Him: with reverence, submission, dependence, and worship. The focus is not on reciting the correct phrases, but on cultivating the right relationship. As D.A. Carson rightly said, “This is how [not what] you should pray.”
Matthew 6:9–13 — The Model Prayer (The Lord’s Prayer)
“In this manner, therefore, pray:
Our Father in heaven,
Hallowed be Your name.
Your kingdom come.
Your will be done
On earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread.
And forgive us our debts,
As we forgive our debtors.
And do not lead us into temptation,
But deliver us from the evil one.
For Yours is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever. Amen.”
(Matthew 6:9–13, NKJV)
Jesus provides His disciples with a framework for prayer—not a rigid liturgy to recite by rote, but a divinely balanced structure to approach the Father with reverence, dependence, humility, and hope. This “model prayer” is unmatched in depth and scope, providing both instruction and a mirror into the heart of our relationship with God.
“Our Father in heaven” — The address sets the tone. God is not merely a distant force or cosmic authority; He is a Father—personal, relational, compassionate. Yet He is not an earthly father subject to sin and error. He is “in heaven,” signifying His majesty, transcendence, holiness, and sovereign rule over all creation.
This balance—intimacy and reverence—is the heart of biblical worship. To the Jewish mind in Jesus’ day, addressing God as “Father” was almost unheard of. They often referred to Him with titles that emphasized distance, fearing to bring God too near. But Jesus shatters that barrier. In salvation, we are adopted into the family of God (Romans 8:15), and it is right for the believer to call out “Abba, Father.”
Moreover, Jesus says “Our Father,” not “My Father,” showing that prayer is not self-centered. It is corporate—reminding us that we are part of the body of Christ. There are no only children in the family of God.
“Hallowed be Your name” — To hallow means to set apart as holy. In this petition, we desire that God’s name be reverenced, honored, and glorified in all the earth. We are not asking that God become holy—He already is intrinsically holy—but that His holiness be recognized and exalted by mankind.
This expresses a vertical priority in prayer: before we ask anything for ourselves, we long to see God exalted. This reflects the priority of God’s glory over man’s comfort. A prayer life that begins here is rightly oriented.
“Your kingdom come” — This is a call for the visible, righteous reign of God on the earth. In a dispensational framework, this is a literal longing for the future Messianic Kingdom—Christ’s physical reign on David’s throne (cf. Isaiah 9:6–7; Luke 1:32–33; Revelation 20:1–6). It is not merely a desire for God to rule in our hearts, but a forward-looking plea for the fulfillment of prophetic promises regarding Israel and the nations.
This request acknowledges the brokenness of this world and yearns for the time when justice, peace, and truth will prevail under the Kingship of Jesus Christ.
“Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven” — In heaven, God's will is accomplished without resistance, delay, or rebellion. Angels obey perfectly and joyfully. We are praying that this same joyful obedience would characterize the earth. This begins with the church and in the lives of individual believers, but will ultimately be fulfilled when Christ returns.
It is also a personal surrender: a statement of trust. Like Christ in Gethsemane, we yield our will, even if it involves pain, difficulty, or delay, saying, “Nevertheless, not as I will, but as You will” (Matthew 26:39). This prayer shapes our hearts to want what God wants, not to change God’s mind to want what we want.
“Give us this day our daily bread” — Here, the prayer transitions from God’s glory to our need. The believer is invited to ask for daily provision. Bread here is literal—food, sustenance, and physical needs. This reminds us that God is not only concerned with the grand sweep of prophecy and redemption, but also with whether His child eats today.
The prayer is daily, not monthly. This instills dependence and reminds us not to store up self-sufficiency. Just as Israel gathered manna one day at a time (Exodus 16:4), we are to trust our Father for today’s needs and let tomorrow worry about itself (Matthew 6:34). God delights in providing for His children (Philippians 4:19).
“And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors” — Sin is pictured as debt. We owe perfect obedience to God. When we sin, we accrue a moral debt to divine justice. This is not justification (which is settled once for all at salvation) but relational forgiveness—cleansing and restoration of fellowship (cf. 1 John 1:9).
This petition includes a spiritual gut-check. If we want forgiveness from God, we must extend forgiveness to others. This does not mean our salvation is earned by forgiving others, but that the forgiven person shows evidence of salvation by forgiving (Ephesians 4:32). A bitter, unforgiving Christian is an oxymoron. Jesus will reinforce this point in verses 14–15.
“And do not lead us into temptation, but deliver us from the evil one” — This is a cry for moral protection. Temptation (peirasmos) can refer to testing or trial, not just enticement to sin. God does not tempt (James 1:13), but He may allow us to be tested to refine and prove our faith.
Yet, the believer humbly prays to be spared from such testing, recognizing weakness and pleading for spiritual preservation. This is not cowardice; it is dependence. We must also ask for deliverance from “the evil one”—a clear reference to Satan. Spiritual warfare is real. The enemy seeks to devour (1 Peter 5:8), deceive (Revelation 12:9), and accuse (Revelation 12:10), and the believer must daily cry out for divine protection.
“For Yours is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever. Amen.” — This doxology may not appear in the earliest manuscripts, but its theology is thoroughly biblical. Whether penned by Matthew or added in early liturgical practice, it rightly acknowledges that all authority belongs to God. It frames the entire prayer with worship: from “Our Father” to “Yours is the kingdom.”
The believer ends not with anxiety, but with confident adoration. God has the power to answer our prayer, the kingdom to rule our world, and the glory that is due His name for all eternity.
In Summary:
This model prayer shows us that all true prayer must begin with God's glory and purpose before moving to our needs. It keeps our prayers rooted in heaven, grounded in the Word, aware of spiritual battle, and wrapped in worship. This prayer reflects a right relationship with God—a Father who is holy, a King who is returning, a Provider who sustains, and a Deliverer who guards His children.
Matthew 6:14–15 — More on the Importance of Forgiveness
“For if you forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.”
(Matthew 6:14–15, NKJV)
This sobering clarification comes immediately after the Lord’s Prayer, emphasizing that forgiveness is not optional for the disciple. Forgiveness is not a side note to kingdom living—it is central.
Jesus here teaches a reciprocal principle, not in terms of eternal justification (which is by grace through faith), but in terms of fellowship and the daily relational forgiveness that sustains our walk with God. The forgiven are expected to forgive.
To refuse forgiveness to others is to place ourselves in spiritual peril. It disrupts our communion with the Father and reveals a dangerous misunderstanding of the mercy we ourselves have received. As John Stott aptly observed, those who exaggerate the wrongs of others likely minimize their own guilt before God. And Scripture is clear—unforgiveness can hinder prayer (Mark 11:25), breed bitterness (Hebrews 12:15), and even invite divine chastening (Matthew 18:34–35).
The believer, then, is to reflect the heart of the Father, who delights in mercy (Micah 7:18). The standard is not how much we've been hurt, but how much we've been forgiven (Ephesians 4:32).
Matthew 6:16–18 — The Right Way to Fast
“Moreover, when you fast, do not be like the hypocrites, with a sad countenance. For they disfigure their faces that they may appear to men to be fasting. Assuredly, I say to you, they have their reward.
But you, when you fast, anoint your head and wash your face,
so that you do not appear to men to be fasting, but to your Father who is in the secret place; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you openly.”
(Matthew 6:16–18, NKJV)
Jesus assumes His followers will fast—“when you fast,” not if. Fasting is a legitimate spiritual discipline, but like giving and praying, it must be done with the right heart.
In the Old Testament, fasting was commanded only on the Day of Atonement (Leviticus 16:29–31), but it became a broader practice of voluntary devotion, especially during times of national crisis, repentance, or mourning (e.g., Joel 2:12–13). Over time, however, the Pharisees institutionalized it, turning it into a badge of spirituality by fasting twice a week (Luke 18:12).
Jesus condemns this self-display: they “disfigure their faces”—a deliberate attempt to look gaunt, gloomy, and miserable so others would be impressed by their apparent piety. Their reward? Earthly admiration—and nothing more.
But true fasting, Jesus says, is not a show. It is done in “the secret place” before the Father. The disciple is to carry on normally—“anoint your head and wash your face”—so that the fast is not about performance, but about humility and hunger for God (cf. Psalm 42:1–2).
Fasting, rightly practiced, trains the body to submit to the Spirit. It intensifies prayer, reminds us of our dependence on God, and can break spiritual strongholds (cf. Matthew 17:21). Yet it must always be God-directed, not man-directed. The Father who sees in secret will reward openly, but only when fasting is done for His eyes alone.
Summary:
These verses continue Jesus’ correction of external religious practices that lack inward authenticity. In both forgiveness and fasting, Jesus cuts to the heart: spiritual disciplines must never be about manipulating God or impressing men. Instead, they flow from a heart transformed by grace, aiming always toward the glory of God and the good of others. The child of God must cultivate secrecy in spiritual life—not to be deceptive, but to keep motives pure
Matthew 6:16–18 — The Right Way to Fast
“Moreover, when you fast, do not be like the hypocrites, with a sad countenance. For they disfigure their faces that they may appear to men to be fasting. Assuredly, I say to you, they have their reward.
But you, when you fast, anoint your head and wash your face,
so that you do not appear to men to be fasting, but to your Father who is in the secret place; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you openly.”
(Matthew 6:16–18, NKJV)
Jesus completes His triad of warnings on spiritual disciplines — giving, praying, and now fasting — warning again against the motive of performance before men. Once again, He does not say if you fast but when you fast. Fasting is assumed as a normal part of the disciple's walk, not something extraordinary.
The Pharisees had turned fasting into an outward display of suffering, contorting their faces and altering their appearance to gain public admiration. But such external piety was hollow. Jesus’ rebuke parallels what He said in Matthew 6:1: doing righteous acts to be seen by men forfeits any reward from God.
The proper method of fasting, then, is secrecy before men and sincerity before God. Jesus instructs His disciples to anoint their heads and wash their faces—not to draw attention to themselves. This doesn’t indicate luxury, but normal grooming. The idea is that there should be no outward sign of suffering or pretense. The Father who sees in secret rewards in ways man cannot—both in this life and eternally.
Fasting, when done in humility and in pursuit of spiritual growth, aligns the heart with God. It intensifies prayer (as seen in Ezra 8:23 and Acts 13:2–3), produces clarity, and trains the flesh to submit to the Spirit. Yet fasting becomes corrupted when it is used as a tool for self-glorification. The goal must always be communion with God, not applause from man.
Matthew 6:19–21 — The Choice Between Two Treasures
“Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal;
but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal.
For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”
(Matthew 6:19–21, NKJV)
Jesus shifts to address materialism and the dangerous pursuit of earthly wealth. The command is direct: “Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth.” Earthly possessions are vulnerable — subject to moth, rust, and theft. The first-century audience understood this well, as clothing and precious metals were key indicators of wealth, both of which deteriorated or could be stolen.
Yet Jesus is not forbidding the possession of wealth itself. What He condemns is hoarding treasure for oneself — self-centered accumulation that forgets eternal priorities. Possessions are fleeting, but the soul is eternal. The disciple must live with eternity in view.
In contrast, Jesus calls us to “lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven.” This involves investing in the kingdom of God: giving to the poor (Matthew 19:21), supporting the work of the Gospel (Philippians 4:17), and living righteously in ways that please God (1 Timothy 6:18–19). These acts, though intangible, store eternal rewards in heaven that cannot be destroyed or lost.
Paul echoes this mindset in 1 Timothy 6:6, where he writes, “Now godliness with contentment is great gain.” The pursuit of more always leaves the heart empty. A 1992 survey cited here revealed that people, regardless of their income bracket, consistently believed they needed roughly double their income to be satisfied. This proves that the human heart is never content through material means—it must be satisfied in God.
Jesus ends with a penetrating insight: “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” Whatever we invest in—be it possessions, status, or service—will claim our affections. The heart follows the treasure. If we treasure what is earthly, our hearts will be tethered to the temporal. If we treasure what is eternal, our hearts will be heavenward.
Summary:
Jesus teaches that both fasting and the stewardship of material possessions must flow from a heart aligned with heaven, not with this world. Outward acts of piety and spiritual discipline are meaningless if done for show. True devotion is measured by motive, not by ritual. And treasure—what we value and pursue—reveals the true orientation of the heart. The disciple must not seek approval from men or security in possessions, but should instead aim to please the Father who sees in secret and rewards eternally.
Matthew 6:22–23 — The Choice Between Two Visions
“The lamp of the body is the eye. If therefore your eye is good, your whole body will be full of light.
But if your eye is bad, your whole body will be full of darkness. If therefore the light that is in you is darkness, how great is that darkness!”
(Matthew 6:22–23, NKJV)
Here Jesus shifts from treasures to vision — an analogy that targets how our inner disposition affects our entire being. The eye, metaphorically described as the lamp of the body, functions as the gateway of perception. If one's eye is “good,” it allows in spiritual light and leads to clarity and godly direction. If one's eye is “bad,” it clouds the soul in darkness.
The “good eye” (Greek: haplous) carries the connotation of single-minded devotion, generosity, and moral clarity. This idea of generosity fits with the Old Testament understanding of a “good eye” (see Proverbs 22:9: “He who has a generous eye will be blessed, for he gives of his bread to the poor.”). It also reflects a heart unclouded by greed, envy, or duplicity.
In contrast, a “bad eye” (Greek: ponēros) refers to greed, envy, and covetousness — a corrupted internal outlook that darkens the entire person. This is confirmed by Proverbs 28:22: “A man with an evil eye hastens after riches, and does not consider that poverty will come upon him.”
Jesus is essentially saying that your spiritual eyesight — your focus and attitude toward wealth and possessions — determines whether you walk in light or darkness. When your life is filled with generosity, simplicity, and eternal focus, you are full of spiritual light. But when materialism, envy, and selfishness consume your thoughts, the light is extinguished and replaced with deep darkness.
The closing line is especially ominous: “If therefore the light that is in you is darkness, how great is that darkness!” The danger is not merely in being in darkness, but in thinking one has light while being completely blinded by greed or self-righteousness. This delusion is profound. Many believe themselves morally upright because they practice religion outwardly, but inwardly they are filled with covetousness and self-worship.
This warning also anticipates the Laodicean church in Revelation 3:17, which says, “Because you say, ‘I am rich, have become wealthy, and have need of nothing’—and do not know that you are wretched, miserable, poor, blind, and naked.” Physical wealth had blinded them to their spiritual poverty.
Matthew 6:24 — The Choice Between Two Masters
“No one can serve two masters; for either he will hate the one and love the other, or else he will be loyal to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and mammon.”
(Matthew 6:24, NKJV)
Jesus culminates His teaching on materialism with a definitive statement: “No one can serve two masters.” This is not merely a warning, it is an absolute truth — a spiritual law. Unlike modern employment where one can have multiple part-time jobs, in ancient servitude a master had total ownership of a slave. The will of one master always demands full loyalty, which inherently excludes the possibility of pleasing a second.
The two masters Jesus mentions are God and mammon. The term mammon refers to material wealth, worldly possessions, and money — but personified, as if it were a rival deity. Whether it was a proper name or derived from the Aramaic root meaning "that in which one trusts," it is clear that Jesus viewed mammon as a competing force vying for the loyalty of the human heart.
Theologically, this is not simply about budget decisions but about lordship. Who dictates your life’s direction? Who commands your deepest affections and priorities? If God is Lord, then money must serve Him. But if money dictates your decisions, controls your fears, and demands your sacrifices, then mammon is your master.
To “love the one and hate the other” or “be loyal to one and despise the other” illustrates a spiritual exclusivity. As Elijah declared in 1 Kings 18:21, “How long will you falter between two opinions? If the Lord is God, follow Him; but if Baal, follow him.”
Modern Christians often think they can balance both — pursue material prosperity and still honor God. But Jesus says that’s a deception. True service to God demands sacrifice, just as true service to mammon demands compromise of the soul.
Luke 16:13 echoes this with the same words, and Paul warns in 1 Timothy 6:10: “For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil, for which some have strayed from the faith in their greediness, and pierced themselves through with many sorrows.”
Importantly, Jesus is not saying that wealth itself is evil. Instead, He says that serving wealth is incompatible with serving God. Even the poor can serve mammon in their heart — through envy, fear, or covetousness. It is a matter of allegiance, not net worth.
Summary:
These verses present three spiritual choices that expose the allegiance of the heart:
Two treasures (Matthew 6:19–21): Earthly or heavenly.
Two visions (Matthew 6:22–23): Light or darkness.
Two masters (Matthew 6:24): God or mammon.
Jesus’ teaching moves from what we value, to how we perceive, to whom we serve. He teaches that our treasure, our vision, and our master must all be aligned with the Kingdom of God. The warning is urgent: you cannot compartmentalize your discipleship. There is no neutrality. Either your life is governed by God, or it is governed by something else. The heart must be wholly loyal to Christ.
Matthew 6:25 — Therefore: Do Not Worry About Material Things
“Therefore I say to you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink; nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food and the body more than clothing?”
(Matthew 6:25, NKJV)
Following His teachings on treasure, vision, and mastery, Jesus transitions from priorities to anxieties. The word “therefore” connects this section to what preceded it — since the Kingdom of God is supreme and materialism is destructive, we must not allow worry over material needs to dominate our lives.
Jesus issues a command: “do not worry” — not a suggestion. The verb (Greek: merimnaō) implies a divided mind, torn between two focuses. Worry is not concern borne from responsibility; it is anxiety born from lack of faith.
Jesus identifies the things we are prone to worry about — food, drink, and clothing — all essential, yet not ultimate. Life is more than survival. We are created in the image of God, saved for eternal purposes, and called to seek His glory.
As Adam Clarke observes, the unsaved world lives for these things — the “compound god” of belly and back. In our time, entertainment and status might be added to that list. But for the disciple, life is meant for more than consumption.
Spurgeon insightfully remarks that Jesus Himself never concerned Himself with such things. His food was “to do the will of Him who sent Me, and to finish His work” (John 4:34). Likewise, we are to be driven by mission, not mammon.
Matthew 6:26–30 — Arguments and Illustrations Against Worry
“Look at the birds of the air, for they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?
Which of you by worrying can add one cubit to his stature?
So why do you worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin;
and yet I say to you that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.
Now if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is, and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will He not much more clothe you, O you of little faith?”
(Matthew 6:26–30, NKJV)
Jesus supports His command not to worry with three illustrations — birds, height, and lilies — and each is rich in theological significance.
Birds do not plant or store, yet God feeds them. This does not teach passivity — birds are diligent — but they are not anxious. If God takes care of small, seemingly insignificant creatures, how much more will He care for His children, who are made in His image and redeemed by His Son?
Jesus then asks, “Which of you by worrying can add one cubit to his stature?” The Greek word translated “stature” can also mean “span of life.” Either interpretation is true — worry adds nothing, whether to height or to lifespan. In fact, it often subtracts from both through stress-related illness and mental anguish.
Next, Jesus directs us to the “lilies of the field” — beautifully clothed without labor. Even Solomon, known for opulent splendor (1 Kings 10:4–7), could not rival their God-given beauty. Grass, temporal and fleeting, is clothed by God — how much more will He provide for His blood-bought children?
This section climaxes with the phrase: “O you of little faith.” Worry is not just unproductive — it is a theological insult. It implies that God may not be attentive, willing, or able to provide. As Spurgeon notes, “Little faith is not a little fault.” It insults the sufficiency of the Father.
Matthew 6:31–32 — The Gentile Way vs. the Kingdom Way
“Therefore do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’
For after all these things the Gentiles seek. For your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things.”
(Matthew 6:31–32, NKJV)
Jesus reinforces the call to stop worrying with another “therefore.” These common anxieties are the hallmarks of Gentiles — meaning, in this context, unbelievers, pagans without a covenant relationship with God. They chase these things because they have no assurance of divine provision.
But for the believer, “your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things.” He is not distant or indifferent. He is omniscient and attentive. He created you, He sustains you, and He is mindful of your daily needs.
Worry denies this truth. It is a form of functional atheism. That is why believers must respond differently from the world. Worry is not neutral — it is disobedience rooted in unbelief.
Matthew 6:33 — The Proper Alternative: Seek First the Kingdom
“But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you.”
(Matthew 6:33, NKJV)
This verse is the climax and cure to material anxiety. Jesus offers a positive command: not just to stop worrying, but to seek first the Kingdom of God and His righteousness.
To “seek first” means to pursue the rule and reign of God as the governing purpose of life. It is not just top priority on a list, but the organizing principle of all priorities. God’s rule, His glory, and His character are to dominate our decisions, relationships, and affections.
When this happens, “all these things shall be added to you.” The “things” are the food, drink, clothing — material needs, not luxuries. God does not promise affluence, but abundance in sufficiency (Philippians 4:19: “And my God shall supply all your need according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus.”).
To seek the Kingdom is to trust the King. Those who belong to the King will be sustained by Him — not always in ways they expect, but always in ways that glorify Him.
Matthew 6:34 — A Final Word of Wisdom
“Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about its own things. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.”
(Matthew 6:34, NKJV)
Jesus concludes this section with pastoral clarity and practicality. Worrying about tomorrow is irrational because tomorrow doesn't exist yet. It is presumptive. James 4:14 reminds us: “whereas you do not know what will happen tomorrow. For what is your life? It is even a vapor...”
Each day has “its own trouble.” God provides daily bread (Matthew 6:11), daily mercies (Lamentations 3:23), and daily strength. He expects us to live in the present, anchored in faith — not weighed down by hypothetical disasters.
The believer must remember that every “tomorrow” is under the sovereign care of God. Therefore, to worry is to forget His providence.
Summary:
This section of the Sermon on the Mount outlines the proper theology of material provision. Jesus offers six arguments against worry:
Life is more than food and clothing (v. 25).
God feeds the birds — and you’re more valuable (v. 26).
Worry doesn’t help — it adds nothing (v. 27).
God clothes the lilies — He will clothe you (vv. 28–30).
God already knows your needs (v. 32).
Tomorrow belongs to God — live today by faith (v. 34).
Instead of living like Gentiles consumed with material gain, we are called to live as citizens of the Kingdom — wholly trusting our Father and radically reordering our lives to reflect His reign.
