No doubt you’ve noticed that the “Sermon on the Mount” (Matthew 5-7) and the “Sermon on the Plain” (Luke 6:17-49) have a lot in common. They are definitely not two accounts of the same event—the common names for them reflect the different settings: in Matthew “he went up on the mountain” and in Luke “he came down…and stood on a level place”. Besides which, the content is different, even if similar. We have to bear in mind that, without mass media, Jesus would have had to teach the same lessons over and over, to different audiences—no doubt adjusting as needed.

Both versions of this class end with the parable of two men building houses, one on sand and one on rock. Both times Jesus actually interprets the parable before even telling it. The wise man is the one who “hears my words and does them,” while the foolish one “hears and does not do them”. Wisdom is not hearing, not even paying attention, not even having deep understanding of the words of Jesus. Wisdom is doing them, living them.

In the Luke account, Jesus makes the point even sharper. He introduces the parable by asking, “Why do you call me ‘Lord, Lord’, and not do what I tell you?” The hearers might have grumbled a bit at this—weren’t they out there listening? Considering that it’s recorded for us, we need to think of ourselves as the hearers. There is a very serious rebuke within Jesus’s question. I suspect most of us read right over it, never thinking that he might be addressing me with the rebuke.

We do call Jesus “Lord”, do we not? How often, when we refer to “the Lord” or “the Lord Jesus”, do we appreciate that he is Lord? Being Lord means having the right to command. If we refer to him as Lord, we are saying he has the right to command us; it is in fact a promise to obey. Jesus asks, “How can you call me Lord, if you won’t obey?” Then he goes on to tell us who is harmed if we don’t do what he commands. We don’t harm him; we harm ourselves. Our building, our life, will come crashing down in the storm.

At the end, in Gethsemane, Jesus would issue the strong caution: “The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.” This is not a saying to adopt as an excuse for failing to do what our Lord commands! He is rebuking the disciples for falling asleep, when he had commanded them to stay awake. He commanded them to pray for help not to fall into temptation. He tells them they must do so, because the flesh is so weak—and good intentions aren’t enough! If he is our Lord, then he must be obeyed.

The Lord does not command us from a distance. He is right among us—on the mountain, on the plain, in the garden. He knows what he’s talking about, knows how weak the flesh is, knows how much more work it is to dig a foundation instead of just slapping a building up on the sand. He commands us because he loves us. He doesn’t want our life to collapse in the storm.

Love, Paul