Last updated: 10/05/2026
Spiritual Principles in the Formation of Faith Across Generations—
The Responsibility of the Family, the Church, and Its Leaders
Scripture Reading: Matthew 23:1–12; Romans 2:17–3:23
Matthew 23 contains a very serious rebuke from the Lord Jesus toward the scribes and Pharisees. When we read this chapter, our attention can easily be drawn to the eight “woes” that follow. But before coming to those eight woes, the Lord first shows us a very important principle in verses 1–12. He does not begin by pointing out eight individual errors; rather, He first reveals what kind of religious people eventually produce such errors. We first look at the people, and then at what they do. If we want to understand what they do, we must first understand what kind of people they are. This passage also helps us consider a deeper generational question: What kind of faith will one generation form in the generation that follows? In other words, what kind of influence will the actions of such people have upon the next generation?
The formation of faith across generations does not take place only in the family; it also takes place in the church. Parents pass on to their children a certain understanding of God and a certain way of life. In the same way, leaders, teachers, and those who serve in the church also pass on to the next generation an impression of “what the Christian faith really is” through what they say, what they do, and how they actually treat the brothers and sisters. Therefore, the next generation learns faith not only from their parents, but also from the church. They do not merely listen to what we say; they are continually observing: What kind of people are we actually?
Recently, we have been studying Moralistic Therapeutic Deism, or MTD, which we may simply describe as “Christian-ish.” It describes a kind of faith that still appears to have God, morality, prayer, and religious life, but gradually becomes this: “Do the best you can to be a good person, live a happy and comfortable life, and come to God when you have a problem.” On the surface, MTD and the Pharisees in Matthew 23 appear to be complete opposites. The religion of the Pharisees was very strict, while “Christian-ish” are very relaxed. The Pharisees had many demands, while “Christian-ish” have almost none. The Pharisees emphasized outward religious practices, while “Christian-ish” emphasize personal feelings and happiness.
Yet if we read Matthew 23 more carefully, we discover where the real subtlety lies: the scribes and Pharisees were strict in what they said, and they were strict when making demands of others; but when it came to themselves, they were very lenient. They were strict with others and indulgent toward themselves. They spoke of law and righteousness to others, but of mercy and tolerance when dealing with themselves. The Lord said that “they say, and do not,” and that “they bind heavy burdens, hard to bear, and lay them on men’s shoulders; but they themselves will not move them with one of their fingers.” Therefore, if we do not treat “Christian-ish” as though it were a sociological term already existing in the first century, but instead consider the spiritual structure that it exposes, then the scribes and Pharisees indeed displayed a very deep “Christian-at-ease” mentality: they required others to pay a price while refusing to pay it themselves; they were strict with others while lenient with themselves; their words maintained high religious demands, while their actual lives remained centered on securing their own advantage.
This is what makes hypocrisy so frightening. Hypocrisy is not merely saying one thing and failing to do it; it can develop into a fixed religious pattern: I am responsible for speaking; you are responsible for doing. I am responsible for making demands; you are responsible for carrying them. I may protect my comfort, interests, reputation, and position, but you must pay the price. Outwardly, the religion appears strict; inwardly, the person is extremely lenient with himself. He is strict toward others and easy on himself. Therefore, when the Lord repeatedly called them “hypocrites,” He was not speaking too harshly. He was exposing their actual condition with complete accuracy.
Paul makes the same precise diagnosis in Romans 2. He says: “Behold, thou art called a Jew, and restest in the law, and makest thy boast of God, and knowest his will, and approvest the things that are more excellent, being instructed out of the law; and art confident that thou thyself art a guide of the blind, a light of them which are in darkness, an instructor of the foolish, a teacher of babes, which hast the form of knowledge and of the truth in the law” (Rom. 2:17–20). But Paul immediately asks, “Thou therefore which teachest another, teachest thou not thyself?” (Rom. 2:21). This corresponds almost exactly to the Lord’s words: “They say, and do not.”
Paul goes on to point out that they teach others not to steal, yet they themselves steal; they teach others not to commit adultery, yet they themselves commit adultery; they boast in the law, yet by breaking the law they dishonor God. Finally, he says, “The name of God is blasphemed among the Gentiles through you” (Rom. 2:24). This brings us to a very serious generational principle: when those who teach the truth continually fail to live the truth themselves, the result is not merely their own personal failure; it causes those who observe them to begin despising the very God they proclaim. This is true of children, and it is also true of the next generation in the church. They may not first be taught or study their way into a theology that rejects Christ. Instead, they may first receive this impression from us: “What you preach is something that even you yourselves do not believe enough to pay a price for.” This kind of unreality in the family and in church life needs to be examined and challenged.
The Lord says, “All therefore whatsoever they bid you observe, that observe and do; but do not ye after their works: for they say, and do not.” The problem is this: what they knew never became what they lived; truth had become separated from life. For the first generation, the problem may simply be, “I have not lived out what I teach and preach.” But for the second generation, the problem becomes far more serious. From childhood, children hear, “You must love the Lord. You must read the Bible. You must attend the meetings. You must obey. You must be humble. You must love the brothers and sisters.” Yet what they are really observing is this: What kind of result have these truths actually produced in my father and mother? In the same way, a young person in the church may hear much teaching concerning consecration, self-denial, loving one another, service, obedience, and the cross, but what he is really observing is this: Do those who stand before us and teach these things actually live this way themselves?
If the next generation continues to see temper, control, rivalry, judgment, selfishness, vanity, coldness, and even people fighting with one another for personal advantage, they may not be mature enough to distinguish, “The truth is right; it is simply that the previous generation failed to live it out.” Instead, they may form an overall impression: “If these teachings really have such power, why have they not changed you?” Thus, the next generation may not first reject Christ; rather, they may first lose confidence that faith in Christ is truly worth paying a price for. This gives us a very important principle concerning the formation of faith across generations: if the truth taught by one generation does not over time become visible life—expressed and testified to in daily living—the next generation may not treasure the truth more deeply, but may instead begin to doubt it.
The Lord then says, “For they bind heavy burdens and grievous to be borne, and lay them on men’s shoulders; but they themselves will not move them with one of their fingers.” This goes one step beyond “they say, and do not.” The problem is no longer simply, “I myself have failed to do it.” Rather, because of position and seniority, the attitude becomes: “I require you to do it, but I myself neither do it nor am willing to help you.” This is a very dangerous form of religious education and church culture: there are standards, but no companionship; demands, but no grace; correction, but no understanding; rebuke, but no example. The previous generation says, “You should.” What the next generation actually experiences is, “Why don’t you do it yourself?”
If this condition continues for a long time, a deep reaction can easily arise in the next generation: “I do not want to carry your religious burdens anymore.” If, in the midst of this process, they do not truly encounter Christ, they may move from a “burdensome religion” to the opposite extreme: “I am not going to be foolish like you. Faith in Christ should make me more comfortable. God should help me live a better life. Faith should not constantly put pressure on me. I do not want to live like an ascetic the way you do.” This comes very close to the therapeutic faith of the “Christian - ish.” Thus, a “therapeutic religion” may sometimes be a reaction against a “burdensome religion.” The previous generation says, “You must pay the price.” The next generation replies: “If you yourselves are unwilling to pay the price for faith in Christ, why should I make life difficult for myself?”
That may be the very point at which the generational pendulum begins to swing. This condition is formed not only in the family but also in the church. It becomes especially serious when those serving in the church are unwilling to pay a genuine spiritual price, yet, like the scribes and Pharisees, begin to pursue “Moses’ seat” and the title of “master.” The Lord said that “the scribes and the Pharisees sit in Moses’ seat.” They “love the uppermost rooms at feasts, and the chief seats in the synagogues,” and “greetings in the markets, and to be called of men, Rabbi.” This is not some incidental weakness. It exposes the fact that the center of the religious person has shifted from God to self: I want position. I want reputation. I want recognition. I want the honor of men.
When such a condition exists not merely in an individual but becomes accepted, imitated, and even rewarded within a religious community, it can gradually develop into a deeply corrupt culture: titles and positions are mutually conferred, interests become intertwined, people elevate one another and protect one another’s interests, until eventually they form a religious faction held together by shared interests. Relationships that were originally meant for serving God and serving His people can become a means of protecting personal position, reputation, and advantage.
Once such a culture takes shape, its effect upon those who sincerely desire to serve God and His people can be extremely damaging. They are no longer facing merely the weakness of one individual, but an entire religious structure in which personal relationships, titles, reputation, and interests are interwoven. Those who speak the truth may be rejected. Those who refuse to join the circle may be marginalized. Those who are willing to pay a price and seek only the will of God may actually be regarded as threats by those who are trying to protect their own interests. We can see something of this in Matthew 21 and 22, where the religious leaders, for the sake of their own interests, gathered together, took turns questioning, entrapping, and challenging Jesus, seeking to preserve what belonged to them.
The Lord then says, “One is your Master, even Christ; and all ye are brethren. And call no man your father upon the earth: for one is your Father, which is in heaven. Neither be ye called masters: for one is your Master, even Christ.” The Lord is not denying leadership in the church, nor is He denying the function of teachers. Rather, He is bringing every spiritual relationship back to one foundation: no human being may occupy the place that belongs uniquely to Christ. These men, in order to preserve their own interests, used both threats and inducements to occupy that unique place belonging to Christ. Once human titles and positions become more important than Christ, relationships easily change from “serving one another” to “exchanging favors,” from “being together under one Lord” to “you support me and I will support you,” and from “we are all brothers” to “who belongs to which faction and who belongs to which circle.”
What such a previous generation often leaves in the eyes of the next generation is not the impression, “These people truly love Christ,” but rather, “Serving in the church is about power, position, personal relationships, and interests.” If the next generation comes to despise such religion, their initial reaction may be understandable and even right. But if this reaction does not bring them back to Christ, it may develop further into: “I do not want the authority of the church. I do not want others interfering in my life. I just want to keep a little relationship between myself and God.” Eventually it becomes: “This is my life. I am my own master. When I need God, I will come to Him.” Thus they return again to the structure of the “Christian -ish.”
The Lord also says, “But all their works they do for to be seen of men.” Faith in Christ therefore becomes a form of performance. A person is one way in the church and another way at home; he appears very spiritual before others, but there is no Christ before those closest to him; he can speak eloquently about the cross from the platform, but when his own interests, reputation, or position are touched, he is completely unwilling to bear the cross. At that point, the next generation naturally says, “I do not want to pretend.”
There is nothing wrong in itself with saying, “I do not want to pretend.” The Lord Jesus Himself hated hypocrisy. But the danger is that “I do not want to be hypocritical” can easily become, “I do not want to take things so seriously either.” At first it is, “I do not want to pretend to be spiritual.” Later it becomes, “Actually, I do not need to be that spiritual.” At first it is, “I want to be real.” Later it becomes, “I just want to be my ‘true’ self. As long as I am authentic, whatever I am now is fine.” In this way, “authenticity” gradually replaces holiness. The next generation may rightly reject hypocritical holiness while wrongly rejecting genuine holiness along with it.
Therefore, we cannot simply blame the next generation for becoming “Christian-ish.” We must turn back and ask: What kind of faith did they actually see in the previous generation? Scripture gives us a very serious principle here: when the people of God as a whole fall into difficulty, God often first holds accountable those who have been entrusted with teaching, leading, and serving His people. At the close of the Old Testament, the book of Malachi first gives a severe rebuke to the priests. God’s original intention concerning Levi was: “The law of truth was in his mouth, and iniquity was not found in his lips: he walked with me in peace and equity, and did turn many away from iniquity” (Mal. 2:6). But later God says, “But ye are departed out of the way; ye have caused many to stumble at the law” (Mal. 2:8).
These two verses form a striking contrast. God originally desired the priests to be those who “walked with Me” and “turned many away from iniquity.” But when they themselves departed from the way, they became instead those who “caused many to stumble.” In the New Testament, this principle does not change; it becomes even more serious. The Lord Jesus’ strongest rebuke in Matthew 23 was not directed first toward tax collectors and sinners, but toward the scribes and Pharisees who sat in Moses’ seat. James also says, “My brethren, be not many masters, knowing that we shall receive the greater condemnation” (James 3:1). Peter says, “For the time is come that judgment must begin at the house of God” (1 Pet. 4:17). Therefore, God’s order is often not first to ask, “What is wrong with those who are being served and led?” Rather, He first asks: “What is the actual spiritual condition of those who have been entrusted to lead, teach, and shepherd My people?”
This is a very serious reminder to the church today. When we see the next generation becoming “Christian-ish”—wanting only to be good people, pursuing comfort, unwilling to pay a price, and coming to God only when they need something—we certainly need to help them. But we cannot merely ask, “Why are they so loose?” We must also ask: Was the previous generation very strict in what it said, while living very loosely itself? Are we requiring them to pay a price that we ourselves are unwilling to pay? Do we preach the cross while using our position to avoid the cross? Do we demand that the next generation submit while we ourselves do not submit to the Lord? If this is the case, what the next generation first rebels against may not be the truth itself, but the “truth” that is contradicted by our own lives.
Yet at this point we must be extremely careful not to turn this message into a tool for standing on the sidelines and criticizing or judging others. After Paul rebukes the hypocrisy of the Jews in Romans 2, he immediately places everyone on the same ground in chapter 3. He asks, “What then? are we better than they? No, in no wise” (Rom. 3:9). Then he says, “There is none righteous, no, not one” (Rom. 3:10). Finally, he says, “For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God” (Rom. 3:23).
Therefore, after reading Matthew 23, we cannot say, “The Pharisees were terrible. Those religious leaders were such hypocrites. We are not like that.” The attitude that truly corresponds with Romans is this: we are not more righteous than others, and others are not more sinful than we are. The seed of the Pharisee is not found only in the Pharisees; it is present in every fallen human being. The desire for a name is in us. The desire for position is in us. The desire to have others listen to us is in us. It is easier for us to make demands of others than of ourselves. The desire to maintain a spiritual image before people while being lenient with ourselves when no one is watching is also in us. The tendency to associate with those who benefit us and exclude those who make us uncomfortable is also in us.
Therefore, the real warning of this message is not, “Beware of those Pharisees.” It is: “Beware of the Pharisee within me.” This danger becomes especially real when a person begins to have service, responsibility, and influence in the church. When we have no position, many things of the self have no opportunity to manifest themselves. But once we gain even a little position, people begin to listen to us, respect us, and need us. Then, almost without realizing it, we may begin to take for ourselves the place that belongs to Christ alone.
If the cross of Christ does not become our subjective, practical, daily experience, we can very easily go down this road. If the cross remains merely a doctrine that we preach, it cannot save us from the way of the Pharisees. Only when the cross actually deals with our self, our face, our rights, our position, our interests, and our self-centeredness can we truly serve others instead of using service to build ourselves up.
This is why the Lord says in verse 11, “But he that is greatest among you shall be your servant.” This is not a teaching about techniques for gaining influence—first become everyone’s servant so that someday I may have the opportunity to become great. That is merely “the daughter-in-law enduring until she becomes the mother-in-law”; it is a contemptible mentality. This is not a technique for service; it is a principle of the cross. The way of the world is: when I gain a position, others should serve me. The way of Christ is: when I gain responsibility, I should serve others all the more. The way of the world is: the greater my name, the more others should listen to me. The way of Christ is: the greater my responsibility, the more I must humble myself. The way of the world is: protect my position. The way of Christ is: deny myself so that Christ may have the place.
Thus, in verse 12, the Lord summarizes the whole passage: “Whosoever shall exalt himself shall be abased; and he that shall humble himself shall be exalted.” The root of all the preceding problems is that the “self” still occupies the center. The religion of the Pharisees says, “Through my service I establish my righteousness, my name, and my position.” The religion of the “Christian - ish” says, “God helps my life, my happiness, and my needs.” Outwardly, one is strict and the other loose, but inwardly both may still have the self at the center.
Therefore, if we put Matthew 23:1–12 together, we can see a generational line of development. When one generation says but does not do, the next generation begins to doubt the truth and the teachings it has heard. When one generation requires others to pay a price but refuses to pay the price itself, the next generation says, “Why make life difficult for myself?” When one generation emphasizes outward appearance, the next says, “At least I want to be real.” When one generation emphasizes human authority, titles, and position, the next says, “I do not want anyone telling me what to do.” When one generation turns the church into a network of personal relationships, circles, and interests, the next generation loses confidence in the church. Eventually, this may produce a faith that says, “Just be a good person, make yourself happy, live your own life, and come to God when you need Him.”
But Matthew 23:1–12 does not give us only a negative diagnosis. The Lord also shows us an entirely different kind of church life: there is one Teacher—Christ; there is one Father—the heavenly Father; we are all brothers; the greatest must become the servant; and everyone must learn humility. This does not mean there is no authority; rather, Christ is the true authority. It does not mean there are no teachers; rather, the teachers themselves are under the authority of Christ. It does not mean there is no leadership; rather, the leader must first be a person dealt with by the cross. It does not mean there are no requirements; rather, requirements must be accompanied by example, companionship, and service. It does not mean there is no obedience; rather, all are learning together to obey Christ.
This also redefines Christian education and spiritual transmission in the church. The most dangerous pattern is: “I know; you do. I speak; you listen. I have the position; you obey.” True spiritual transmission should be this: we first become disciples of Christ ourselves, and then accompany the next generation as fellow disciples of Christ. This is true of parents, and it is also true of leaders in the church. A father can say, “Daddy was wrong in this matter. Please forgive me.” A mother can say, “The Lord is teaching me in this matter too.” Those who serve the church should also be able to say, “I do not stand here because I am more spiritual than you. I also need the Lord’s grace. I also need the dealing of the cross. I also need the help of the brothers and sisters.” In this way, faith is no longer a religious hierarchy, but becomes a company of people learning to be disciples together in the school of Christ.
Therefore, what we truly need to stop is not merely one particular error, but the pendulum swing between generations. If we see only the “loose Christianity” and “Christian-ish” of today, it is easy to say, “People today are too loose. We need to become strict again. We need to teach the truth more deeply and thoroughly. We need to tighten the practices and make them more rigorous.” But if that strictness still consists only of doctrines, demands, rules, authority, and outward practices, without life, the cross, and example, we will only produce another generation of Pharisaic religion. That generation will in turn provoke the rebellion of the next, which will once again move toward the “Christian - ish.” This is the history of the church’s decline repeating itself in cycles.
What truly needs to stop is the entire pendulum. The answer is not a stricter Christian faith, nor a loose and comfortable Christian faith. The answer is the living Christ. It is not more and deeper teaching of truth as demands placed upon others, but allowing every truth to become life in us. It is not the removal of all requirements, but grace enabling us to follow Christ. It is not human control, but everyone living under the lordship of Christ. It is not the pursuit of name and position, but service. It is not self-protection, but the cross. It is not an outward religious image, but the inward reality of Christ.
So in the end, the deepest question is not whether we are strict or loose. The deepest question is: Is there a living and real Christ? Nor can we merely ask, “What went wrong with the previous generation?” We must ask, “Are these very problems in me today?” We are not more righteous than others, and others are not more sinful than we are. Were it not for the grace of God, the life of Christ, and the daily subjective work of the cross within us, any one of us, once we gain a little position, authority, reputation, or influence, could travel down the very same road.
Our appeal, therefore, is this: Do not take the Christian life that we ourselves have failed to live and turn it into a religious faith to hand down to the next generation; and do not turn the cross that we ourselves are unwilling to bear into a burden placed upon someone else’s shoulders. Rather, we must first allow the cross to work in us, and first allow Christ to become life and reality in us; then we can accompany the next generation as fellow disciples of Christ. In this way, truth will no longer be merely doctrine, but will have life; requirements will no longer be merely demands, but will have an example; authority will no longer be merely authority, but will have service; service will no longer become a means of gaining name and position, but a way of denying the self, taking up our own cross, and following the Lord; faith will no longer be merely tradition, but will become testimony. Only then will what the next generation receives cease to be merely the religion of the previous generation and gradually become Christ whom they themselves know firsthand.
In the end, we are not trying to swing the pendulum from the “Christian - ish” back to Pharisaic strictness. Rather, we want the family, the church, those who serve, and the next generation all to return together to the center revealed by the Lord Jesus in this passage: There is one Teacher, Christ; there is one Father, the Father in heaven; we are all brothers; and the greatest among us must become the servant of all.