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For many of us, the religious experiences of other Christians look much more attractive and exciting than our own. Because of this dissatisfaction with our own spirituality we are in some danger of becoming spiritual-chondriacs. We're forever taking our spiritual pulse and temperature. We're running to this or that spiritual doctor or hospital. It can result in a bandwagon spirituality. Whatever happens to be selling at the moment, we want to buy. Mark Twain tells the delightful story about the cat who sat on a hot stove lid. He said the cat would always remember that experience and never sit on a hot stove lid again. But he went on to say, neither would the cat sit on a cold one! The lesson being, that sometimes we read into an experience more than is warranted.

That is easy to do with the term "spiritual". More than one pastor in our district has received a thumbs down vote by an interview committee because he or she was not "spiritual" enough. The word spiritual carries a great deal of baggage. For some it has become a code word denoting acceptance or unacceptance because of words, hairstyles, dress, and a certain kind of Christian "style". For some, being spiritual is the same as being anti-intellectual. For others it's a putdown concerning social involvement, a serious attempt to divide life into sacred and secular compartments. For some, spirituality has become identified with a pietistic jargon or participation in certain kinds of religious experiences. I like the realism of the Baptist preacher Clyde Fant when he wrote:

We have all sat through almost unbearable services where absolutely nothing happened at all except mutual back-slapping, endless hello-saying, and vigorous head-nodding. If an idea walked into the room it would be voted down. In these services, the highest good is imagined to be a group sitting in a friendship circle, holding hands, smiling vacuously, and singing "Bless Be The Tie That Binds." People may become very enthusiastic after one of these services in which nothing was said that they did not already know and had not already heard a thousand times before. Particularly if it was what they wanted to hear and if it was said more fervently than usual, "Wasn't that great?" But if asked what was so great, "I don't know, but wasn't that the best you ever heard?"1

Preacher Fant's words provide a good introduction to our Ash Wednesday text. The words "Beware of practicing your piety before men in order to be seen by them" (6:1) come as a jolt to the devout. The Greek word translated as "religious duties" or "piety" or "spirituality" is also the word for "righteousness." This particular text, peculiar to Matthew's gospel, is found in the middle of the famous Sermon on the Mount. The term righteousness, if not the central focus of this unique Sermon, is certainly one of the key thoughts. The German theologian Jeremias sees Matthew 5:20 - which reads, "Unless your righteousness (or piety or spirituality) exceeds that of the Scribes and Pharisees, you will never get into the Kingdom of Heaven" - as the main theme of this highly structured and familiar sermon."2

But in our text we receive a sober warning concerning these spiritual acts of devotion. Martin Luther is given credit for this observation concerning human nature: "I am more afraid of my virtues than my vices." Centuries ago Jesus Christ said something similar in these words: "Beware of practicing your piety before men in order to be seen by them." (v. 1) Here is our Lord's warning concerning the strange truth that we can get into serious trouble through doing that which is good.

The first spiritual discipline we are warned about is that of alms giving. "Thus, when you give alms, sound no trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets." (v. 2) This is the sort of giving you do when the TV cameras are on you and you make the evening news! It is like being an actor in a play and one's giving is turned into a performance. And, of course, it is a performance that is geared to boost one's own spiritual stature. In the New Testament, "hypocrite" is a powerful word. It means being a phony person, a person who is a sham or counterfeit. Jesus defines it well when he warns against the dangers of Pharisaism in these words: "The scribes and the Pharisees sit on Moses' seat; practice and observe whatever they tell you, but not what they do; for they preach, but do not practice." (Matthew 23:2-3) It is the appearance of spirituality without the substance of it.

The left/right-hand illustration demonstrates that the kind of charity God appreciates is that which is done with little thought for recognition in the parish newsletter or on a fine gold plaque. But spirituality can easily turn into a form of self-display: and when that happens, that is all that happens. "We have received our reward." (v. 2) It is like receiving a business receipt marked "paid in full." This is God's judgment on charitable giving that is handled like a commercial transaction.

Our second example of spirituality is that of prayer. Prayer was an important and vital power among the spiritual people of Jesus' day. One would think that, of all our spiritual practices, something so personal and private as prayer, would be incorruptible. But such is not the case. The people who were judged "spiritual" people in Jesus' time observed set times for prayer. If, during those prescribed times for prayer, you happened to be on the street corner, your praying would receive the praises of numerous spectators. In contrast, God-approved praying is that which is done in private. Now too many of us feel most comfortable with this advice on where to pray. But we who are timid and self-conscious about praying publicly, and who are excessively worried about "what people will think," need to be reminded of the old principle which calls us "to show when tempted to hide; to hide when tempted to show." Public praying is not the issue here. It was praying to receive people-praise that received God's judgment. "They have already been paid in full." (v. 5)

The final illustration in this list of important spiritual duties is that of fasting. Fasting was a sign of penitence. The very spiritual people usually fasted on Monday and Thursday. As we know, some of the prophets already had their problems with this spiritual practice. The prophet Zechariah summed it up in the pointed question to the spiritual people of his time: "Was it for me that you fasted?" (7:5) We hear overtones of the same concern in our Old Testament lesson for today, where the prophet Joel warns us about "rending garments and not hearts." The warning remains timely. We can fast in order to lose weight; or because it is the thing to do (especially
during Lent); or as a method to get God on our side. It is also a good way to call attention to how "spiritual" we really are. This human desire was somewhat innocently expressed by the confirmation student who asked, "What's the point of doing something spiritual if nobody knows you are doing it?" It comes to the fore in the discipline of fasting. Obviously, fasting has to show. So we have the mysterious reference of "disfigured faces" - faces that had spiritual suffering spelled all over them. Such visible spirituality brought the praise of admiring spectators - and the old refrain, "they have received their reward." (v. 16)

Human applause is strong medicine. That is surely one obvious lesson coming out of our text. We all like to be affirmed and complimented, especially where our spirituality is concerned. In our desire for spiritual experiences and spiritual growing let us not forget our vulnerability to the power of people-praise. The temptation to make a show out of our spirituality, as well as to judge others by our style of spirituality, is a strong one. Jesus' warning is clear. What matters most with God is the honesty with which we exercise and exhibit our spirituality.

But our text does not forbid spiritual actions. God is not against being spiritual! The clear words of one who practiced what he preached, Dietrich Bonhoeffer need to be heard again:

By practicing self-control we show the world how different the Christian life is from its own. If there is no element of ascetism in our lives, if we give free rein to the desires of the flesh (taking care of course to keep within the limits of respectability), we shall find it hard to train for the service of Christ. When the flesh is satiated it is hard to pray with cheerfulness or to devote oneself to a life of service which calls for much self-renunciation. (page 146, The Cost of Discipleship, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Macmillan, New York, 1956).

But there is tension here, between what Jesus says in chapter five and what he is saying in these opening words of chapter six. We are to let our light shine. We are to get the salt out of the shaker and the light from beneath the bushel basket, so that people might see our Christianity. This concern about the misuse of spiritual disciplines is no call to an invisible nor undisciplined Christian life. Nevertheless, our Ash Wednesday gospel raises some serious
questions. Do we use free prayer as a way of establishing ourselves as a spiritual person of great piety? Do we give to the poor as a way of receiving recognition for our spirituality? How much of our spirituality is of the self-seeking kind? These are useful questions for us to think about.

But as we face these questions, can any of us say that we always give, or pray, or fast out of pure and positive motives? Even if we redouble our efforts, would that do it? Sometimes that is what we try to do, especially during the Lenten season. There is nothing wrong - and there is a lot good - about this critical look at our own spirituality. We may well discover a great deal of spiritual thinness in reference to our spirit. But spiritual health does not come with navel-gazing nor with running after this or that spiritual medicine show. Here I like the wise and calm counsel of Joseph Sittler, who said, "You find that your self emerges more quickly if you do not keep scratching the question."

What if being a spiritual person is not as complicated as we are prone to make it? Could it be that in this passage we have spirituality made simple? It is simple, because its recognizes that faith does good works naturally and spontaneously, like a good tree producing good fruit. Remember, this text is a portion of the Sermon on the Mount. Remember that the concept of "righteousness" (or piety or spirituality) is one - if not the main - theme of this sermon. Our spirituality, the sermon tells us, is to be better than the spiritually elite of that time (Scribes and Pharisees). Their spirituality was pointed in the direction of keeping the law. Our Lord Christ calls for more than this. Our lives are not to be shaped so much by law as by God's love. God loves by letting his rain falling on the just and unjust alike. That is the kind of love that shapes, forms and motivates our lives. Here is the spirituality or righteousness that exceeds that of the Scribes and Pharisees. It is the practice of love. It is a love which corresponds to God's love. It results in a life that seeks God's righteousness and not one's own. His love doesn't remain invisible in our lives. Rather, it is made visible in our giving, praying and fasting. But these things are done not for self-display nor to add another "star in our crown." Rather, they come forth naturally and spontaneously. We don't have to use acts of love to build ourselves up. We are free to love in God's love. In fact, we can't keep it bottled up. It breaks out and touches the people around us. In this freedom we give because people need our help. Isn't that simple? In this freedom we pray because God wants us to pray? Isn't that simple? In this freedom we exercise self-discipline because it is good for us. There is nothing here about "making spiritual points" or climbing the "spiritual ladder". We are free to give, free to pray, free to do because it is needed - not because we have to get a passing grade in spirituality. And, praise the Lord, we no longer have to compete in that depressing, judging contest of "Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the most pious of them all?" And, who knows? In this great freedom we may even discover that it is more helpful for us to read fewer "how-to" spiritual books and more "what happened" history books! For a sense of history brings with it a sense of realism, and to lessen the tendency to push panic buttons and follow spiritual fads.

So spirituality is more likely to happen if we use this meaningful season not just to reflect on the temperature of our spirituality but by recalling and remembering the steadfast and faithful love of God. The exercise of such simple spirituality may not get you on a talk show. But never mind. God's promise of his reward is still there. His reward is not in our becoming more spiritually prestigious but rather in our relationship with him.

In that relationship (if the experience of the saints of old tells us anything) the continuing rewards come as surprises. Sometimes they come in the surprise of satisfaction and sometimes in the surprise of more giving, more praying and more fasting! Here is spirituality made simple, but also made satisifying. In this spirit - and in this promise - we once again make our journey to Easter. Amen

1. Clyde Font, Preaching For Today, (New York, Harper and Row, 1975).
2. Joachim Jeremias, Sermon on the Mount, (Philadelphia, Fortress Press).
3. Dietrich Bonhoeffer, The Cost of Discipleship, (New York, Macmillan, 1956), p. 146. Reprinted by permission.