Initial transcription generated by Substack, paragraphing and summary generated by ChatGPT.
Sermon Summary: "Beware of Self-Righteousness"
Main Passage: Mark 12:38–13:2
1. Beware of Self-Righteous Religious Leaders
* Key Idea: Some leaders crave recognition, titles, and power rather than humbly serving God’s people.
* Warning: Jesus explicitly condemns such behavior, promising greater condemnation for those who misuse their role for self-glorification or personal gain (e.g., “devouring widows’ houses”).
* Application: Don't follow leaders who aren’t following Christ. If they’re not leading you to Jesus, they’re leading you away from Him.
2. Beware of Self-Righteous Religious Attitudes
* Illustration: The widow's offering (Mark 12:41–44).
* Contrast: Rich people give from their abundance (externally impressive), but the poor widow gives everything she had—a demonstration of genuine faith.
* Condemnation: Jesus not only honors her, He indirectly rebukes the system that left her impoverished—a religious culture that demanded from the vulnerable while flattering the wealthy.
* Modern Parallels: The prosperity gospel and manipulative church practices prey on both the desperate and the self-satisfied.
* Application: Examine your heart—is your giving or religious activity about true devotion, or about checking boxes and feeling good about yourself?
3. Beware of Self-Righteous Religious Infrastructure
* Event: Jesus predicts the destruction of the temple (Mark 13:1–2).
* Point: The temple, though majestic, had become an idol. The people trusted the system rather than the Savior it was meant to point to.
* Fulfillment: Within 40 years (AD 70), the temple was destroyed, validating Jesus' prophecy and God's judgment.
* Application: Don’t trust in buildings, systems, rituals, or tradition. They are not the source of salvation. Christ is.
Final Exhortation: Look to Christ Alone
* Righteousness is not earned by external behavior or association with religious structures.
* Jesus alone—His perfect life, atoning death, resurrection, and ascension—is sufficient.
* Salvation is a gift, not a reward.
* The core question to continually ask: “Am I being pointed to Christ?”
Conclusion Prayer:
The sermon ends with a prayer acknowledging our human tendency toward self-righteousness and asking God to fix our eyes on Jesus—our only hope for salvation and the source of true righteousness.
Sermon Transcript
Mark chapter 12.
In the old Disney Winnie the Pooh movie, there is a song about Heffalumps and Woozles. This song takes place in a dream of Pooh's, and if you remember it—if you don't remember it, it's on YouTube, and you're going to go watch it and be creeped out—but if you do remember it, you will remember that in this dream, the animation is absolutely terrifying. It makes you wonder, like, what Pooh ate in his honey that day. But throughout the song, there's this warning, this theme that bounces over and over: "Beware, beware, beware, beware."
And what Pooh is supposed to beware of are these Heffalumps and Woozles. But in our text today, Jesus is actually going to be singing that same "beware" tune. The word only occurs once in the first part of the passage, but the tone of "beware" pulses through the entire passage. However, unlike the honey-thieving Heffalumps and Woozles that Pooh is worried about, the dangers Jesus addresses—that he tells his disciples and us today to beware of—are not imaginary. Jesus warns about the very real threats of self-righteous religious leaders, self-righteous religious practice, and self-righteous religious infrastructure.
So Mark chapter 12, beginning in verse 38, we'll read on down through chapter 13 and verse 2. It says this:
And in his teaching, he said, "Beware of the scribes, who like to walk around in long robes and like greetings in the marketplaces and have the best seats in the synagogues and the places of honor at feasts, who devour widows' houses and for a pretense make long prayers. They will receive the greater condemnation."
And he sat down opposite the treasury and watched the people putting money into the offering box. Many rich people put in large sums. And a poor widow came and put in two small copper coins, which make a penny. And he called his disciples to him and said to them, "Truly, I say to you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the offering box. For they all contributed out of their abundance, but she, out of her poverty, has put in everything she had, all she had to live on."
And as he came out of the temple, one of his disciples said to him, "Look, Teacher, what wonderful stones and what wonderful buildings!" And Jesus said to him, "Do you see these great buildings? There will not be left here one stone upon another that will not be thrown down."
So it's in this first warning, the first section here, verses 38 through 40, that we find Jesus using our theme word of "beware." And what does he tell the people who are gathered around him in the temple? What does he tell them to beware of? He says, "Beware of the scribes."
The scribes were the experts in the law. They were the teachers of the law. In fact, if you've got an NIV in front of you, they actually translate that term "scribe" as "teachers of the law." That was their role in Israel. Of course, in the ancient world, there's only a certain number of people who are taught to read at all, but then to read complex legal documents. These guys would have had a civil function, but then also a religious function as those who understood the law of Moses and could teach it.
Some of these teachers were associated primarily with groups like the Sadducees. And so they were experts in just the five books of the law, the Torah of Moses. And then some had a broader understanding of the scriptures—they were experts in the whole Bible. And so in the Old Testament, you hear about Ezra being a scribe. He was a scribe who, in fact, probably wrote a good portion of the Old Testament. He knew the whole thing. There were those in the New Testament times who lined up with the Pharisees, and they were experts in all of the Old Testament law.
But here Jesus doesn't draw distinctions between the groups. He just lumps them all together. All the scribes—they're all the same, he says. And he says to the people who are gathered around him, "Beware of those crooks."
What is the basis of Jesus' warning against these religious leaders? He says these men are lovers of long robes, official titles, and the best seats. What's wrong with that? I'd ask. Those sound like pretty nice things—fancy clothes, nice titles, good seats. Nothing in and of themselves, right? There's nothing inherently wrong with robes or titles or seats. The trouble enters because these men are lovers of these things. More than the things, they love what these things represent. They love the praise of men. They like their religious roles because of the benefits for their egos.
They love to wear long robes because then when they go out in public, people will see them. They'll see them and recognize that, oh, that's somebody important. And that leads to the next thing that they really like. They love to be greeted with their official titles. "Oh, most wise scribe. Hello, greetings, rabbi." And when you make sure to wear your important-looking clothes out in public so that people know who you are, then they're really apt to do the other thing that you like, which is to give you the best seats.
You'll get to sit up front in the synagogue meeting. The more important you were in those meetings, the closer you could sit to the front. So women and children had to sit clear at the back, and then men of increasing importance could move closer to the front. And if you were one of the very most important, you got to sit in there. Well, the teacher got to sit in Moses's seat. But then back behind that, there was a bench, and the elders could sit on the seat that faced back out to the congregation. You actually still see this in some churches, where there will be a group of people who get to sit on the stage and look back at the rest of the congregation.
Or at feasts, the host would sit at the head of the table, right? They're the one putting the feast on. But then the most prominent seats would be right up there next to the host. And these guys liked to sit up there next to him. And of course, the host of the feast—if you are an important-looking religious figure—he's going to look good if he puts you up at the head. So just keep on wearing your robes, keep on carrying your title around so that people will treat you with deference and honor.
The scribes loved their religious role—but did this come from a sincere love for God? Apparently not, Jesus says. Because they devour widows' houses. They have long prayers. Oh, they like to pray for a long time. They like to pray in public. But Jesus says that this is for a pretense—it's a show. They were not praying to God; they were praying for the audience.
Jesus warns his disciples about the scribes in particular, but we need to realize that these same characteristics are all over religious leadership today. Many men who end up in ministry do so because they have a deep desire to be seen as significant, important, valuable, worthy—like they're just in it for their own egos. Sometimes that's conscious. Sometimes it's not. They don't even realize that's what they're doing. They clamor for men's applause. But they've discovered a way that seems a lot more holy than climbing the business ladder or moving through the political system. They're going to do all of this "for the Lord." How noble.
I said earlier that there's nothing necessarily wrong with long robes. I'll lay my cards on the table here, though, and say that this passage is part of why I'm suspicious of any kind of clergy vestments. In some traditions, it's the fancy robes. In other traditions, it's the expectation that the pastor is going to wear a fancy suit with diamond cuff links—better dressed than anybody else there.
When I stand here, I want to look like an adult, maybe even a respectable adult for the most part. I don't want to look like a slob. I want to honor the role of "I'm bringing God's word," right? I'm the pastor, the preacher here. But I don't ever want to be dressed in such a way that suggests that as pastor, I'm anything more important than anyone else in this room.
Same thing with titles. If someone demands to be called by a title, that ought to give you automatic suspicion of them. Jesus says in Matthew 23:8–9, "You are not to be called rabbi, for you have one teacher, and you are all brothers." Now, I think we have to be careful about absolutizing Jesus' statement there, because he did not come to abolish the law but to fulfill it. And the law includes things like "honor your father and your mother." If you have a father—like a literal father—it’s still right to call him dad or father. And if you have someone who's teaching you—you've got a teacher in school or somebody who's teaching you God's word—I don't think it's wrong to say, "Hello, teacher," especially if you don't know their name. It's probably nicer than saying, "Hey, you."
However, you need to be careful about titles. I'm not going to be offended if you call me Pastor Will, Pastor, Elder—those are biblical words for the office that I have. But you don't need to. My name is Will. And while I have a certain role in our congregation and it has an associated title, the more important connection between me and you is that we're all human beings made in the image of God.
We're all sinners, marked by our rebellion against Him. And if you've trusted in Christ, then we're both redeemed people who are now brothers and sisters in His family. We are God's children. And in that sense, titles really don't have a place. I'm not your father. I'm not your priest. God is our Father, and Christ is our priest. I am your brother in Christ.
There's a double warning here. The warning for the religious leaders who love the trappings of office, title, and men's praise is this: their condemnation is coming. That's what Jesus says: "They will receive the greater condemnation." James says in James 3: "Let not many of you become teachers." So again, he's acknowledging that there is such a role as a teacher, right? And it's okay for that title to be associated with it—we’ve got to call it something. But don't let many of you be teachers, because with that role comes a greater condemnation.
So if you are in the place of the scribe and you are not incredibly careful in how you represent Christ—if you are in the place of teaching His Word to His people—you are heaping up condemnation for yourself. If you ever use religious office as a means of advancing yourself, Jesus says, you will lose your soul. That's evidenced clearly in the fact that these men have already lost their soul. They're happy to devour widows’ houses.
James 1:27 says that true religion—undefiled religion—is this: that you visit orphans and widows in their distress and keep yourself unstained from the world. These men? They're not helping the widows; they're devouring their houses. This would happen sometimes literally—in the sense that because scribes were trained legally, they would sometimes handle estates. And they would just siphon the money out of a widow’s livelihood to “support the Lord's work” in the synagogue or in the temple. And it would benefit them. It would line their pockets.
Sometimes it would just be allowing the expectation to persist: “You keep giving.” Even after your husband dies, you’ve got to keep giving at the same level. These men who were happy to soak widows dry so long as it kept their ministry going and financially solvent—God cut them down. He promised He would, and He did. And for those who are in similar positions of religious authority today—if they are willing to devour widows' houses—God will cut them down.
That's the direct warning. But why would Jesus warn those listening to beware of such leaders? Because leaders who are not headed towards Christ will lead you away from Christ. If your religious leaders are not taking you to Jesus, they are taking you away from Him.
You see that in the next section. Again, verses 41–44 say this:
"He sat down opposite the treasury and watched the people putting money into the offering box. Many rich people put in large sums. And a poor widow came and put in two small copper coins, which make a penny. And He called His disciples to Him and said to them, 'Truly I say to you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the offering box. For they all contributed out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had—all she had to live on.'"
After warning about self-righteous religious leaders, Jesus sat down to people-watch. But He didn't sit down at the mall. He didn't sit down on the beach. He sat down in the treasury in the temple. And the treasury had these 13 trumpet-shaped receptacles for money—a place where people would put in their offerings.
As He’s sitting there, Jesus observes many people coming to drop their money in. I don’t know if you ever remember as a kid putting money in the offering plate as it went by. I remember when I was a kid, when our church changed from wooden offering plates to metal ones that matched our communion set. And if you’re a kid, the sound of the penny or the quarter hitting that metal—that was great. That was very satisfying.
Now, imagine: instead of being a little kid with some pocket change, you are a rich person in a society where all the money is coins. A large sum of money that you’ve brought to the temple treasury is going to go into that metal trumpet, basically. How are you going to strategize this? Are you going to dump it all in at once so everybody hears it? Or are you going to go one at a time—stand there for a day and a half with the smallest denomination of money you can find so you can just keep dropping it in? Or maybe you’ll try to do a steady pour—lots of sound for a long time. It’s not hard to see how this could go very, very wrong, depending on your heart.
But while rich person after rich person comes and deposits their loads of coins into the treasury, in walks a poor widow. Quiet. She only has two small copper coins, which the ESV says make a penny. Literally, the denomination of coin referred to would be 1/64th of a denarius. A denarius was a day’s wage. So this is maybe the equivalent of two or three bucks. That’s all she has, and she’s going to drop it in the trumpet.
Jesus sees this. He’s been watching the rich put in all this money out of their abundance. But He calls His disciples over and says, “See this woman? She is the one who has truly given more than everybody else here today. She’s given everything she had to live on.”
With this statement, Jesus is doing two things. The first and most obvious is that He is commending the poor widow. Her religious practice of giving is absolutely genuine and heartfelt. She’s not looking for fanfare or applause. She’s putting in two tiny coins—no one’s applauding that. She’s not getting a plaque or anything named after her in the temple. That’s not what she’s looking for. She doesn’t have much, but she still wants to give to the Lord and to His work. And He honors that gift.
Friends, the Lord does not measure the value of your giving in dollars and cents. He commands you to love Him with your whole self. It’s really easy to give a little off the top or to give what’s left over after everything else. For some people, what’s left over or off the top can add up to a pretty sizable chunk of change. But Jesus isn’t looking for leftovers. The kind of giving He recognizes as valuable is both cheerful and generous. That’s what 1 Corinthians tells us. That’s what we see exemplified in this woman.
She gave everything she had, in confidence that the Lord who had provided her with those couple of dollars could still provide her with daily bread and anything else she needed. Do you have that same confidence in the Lord? And does it come through in how you budget your money? That’s a question each of us ought to ask.
And yet, while that’s important, I think Jesus is actually making a bigger point in this text. Because embedded in His statement that this poor widow has given all she had to live on is a reminder of what He just said about the scribes: they devour widows' houses. Why is this woman down to her last dime? Why is she at the point of having to choose whether to give her money to God or to the grocer? Because the religious authorities have already bled her dry.
And this too is something we sadly see in our day. If you’re familiar with the prosperity gospel—or even if you're not—it’s as close as any Christian television station or YouTube channel. They’ll ask you to send money in, promising to pray for you, sometimes assuring you of healing if you’ll just “have enough faith” and send that check or call in with your credit card.
There are traveling evangelists and healers who operate by that same principle: if you give money, God will bless you. If you give money, you’ll get better. If you give money, little Johnny who walked away from the Lord will surely come back—just don’t forget that check. You’re making it possible for us to continue this ministry with your finances.
These people should be trying to help the widow—to minister to her in her distress. As we already saw in James 1:27. But they don’t see a soul in need of ministry. They see one more pocket they can pick clean. It was true in first-century Jerusalem, and it’s true today. And sadly, it's not just people on TV or traveling preachers. It can be true of local pastors and local congregations.
These types of schemers always prey upon the most vulnerable people in churches and societies—and God hates that hypocrisy. He will, again, cut them down.
Now, you might agree with all that and ask: What does this have to do with self-righteousness? You said this point was about self-righteousness.
Well, friends, the same people who are happy to empty the pockets of the vulnerable are also happy to take those off-the-top gifts from the more well-off—in exchange for not stepping on their toes. You can’t actually fund a ministry just with poor widows’ leftovers, right?
You've got to get people who will really give, and the way you do that is by speaking and teaching in such a way that pleases them—tickling their ears. That same prosperity gospel that appeals to someone in desperate need sounds pretty good to someone who's doing well. If faith and trusting God and giving a little bit is what makes you successful, and I'm doing pretty well, then that must mean God really likes me. That must mean I'm okay with God. It must mean I don't have sin I need to repent of.
The same teaching that devours widows' houses makes the proverbially fat and happy feel very at ease. Jesus taught to cut at the heart. But these teachers and religious leaders will happily let you slide in, slide out, maybe give you a list of rules now and then—because we all need a few rules to keep. And thank you for leaving that extra abundance on your way out the door. God bless. Now go live your best life now.
The same religious environment that breeds widow-devouring practices also breeds self-righteous and heartless worship. "I checked the boxes and I dropped the check in the box. Look how wonderful I am." Jesus is not impressed by merely external religion. He commends the heartfelt faith of the poor widow, and he recognizes that her trust is in God. And in commending her, he is issuing a subtle damnation of the self-righteous religiosity that was happy to let her suffer.
Which brings us to our final point: beware of self-righteous religious infrastructure. After Jesus has made his controversial statements and, once again, condemned the religious establishment inside the temple, he and the disciples take a walk outside the temple complex (Mark 13:1–2). As he came out of the temple, one of his disciples said to him, "Look, Teacher, what wonderful stones and what wonderful buildings." It's merciful that particular disciple wasn’t named. Which one said that? Because Jesus looks at him—perhaps shaking his head—and says, “Do you see these great buildings? There will not be left here one stone upon another that will not be thrown down.”
That would have been a shocking statement. We'll see later that four of the disciples are so stunned by it that they feel the need to ask follow-up questions. "What are you talking about, Jesus? How could this happen? When will this happen?" What Jesus promises is impossible for them to imagine. Though Solomon’s original temple had been destroyed over 600 years earlier, the building of the second temple had begun about 500 years before this conversation. About 40 years before Jesus’ statement, during the reign of King Herod, an expansion project for the temple complex had begun—and was still ongoing in Jesus’ day. It truly was a magnificent and marvelous sight, filled with wonderful stones and buildings.
The idea that it would be torn down was unthinkable, especially because they believed Jesus was the Messiah who would bring restoration, not destruction. But as we've seen throughout Passion Week, most of Jesus' teaching during this time was a sustained condemnation of the Jewish religious and social leadership of his day. God's judgment, he said, would be visited upon them.
This happened spiritually to those who did not trust in Jesus—those who rejected him were cut off from the olive tree, Christ himself (as Romans 11 says). Though they had the covenant of circumcision, the law of Moses, and the temple, they believed these structures secured them. They thought they had all the religious infrastructure they needed.
But they missed the point. The covenant with Abraham, including circumcision, pointed to a coming Savior. The law given to Moses revealed their need for a Savior every time they broke it. The temple and its sacrificial system visibly portrayed the cost of sin—blood. And the blood of bulls and goats could never take away sin. It pointed forward to the need for a better temple and a better sacrifice. Jesus came as both. He is the better temple. He is the better sacrifice. He is the one who perfectly kept the law.
But when the people rejected him and trusted instead in their traditions, their customs, and their buildings—rather than in the shed blood of the Messiah—they earned his just condemnation. Less than 40 years later, the Romans would come and literally level the temple complex. The incredible building and its surrounding structures were destroyed to such a degree that not one stone was left upon another. The only remnants were foundation stones in a wall not even part of the main temple. All the rest was torn to the ground.
In AD 70, Titus led the Roman army to destroy the temple. But while Titus was the one who physically destroyed Jerusalem, it was actually the hand of God fulfilling Jesus’ words. Titus was simply God's instrument of judgment. God took the infrastructure that had become a source of self-righteous confidence—and he leveled it.
Beautiful buildings and religious forms can be good things. But they will not save you from God’s judgment. Friends, are you trusting in an external form of religion to save you? Are you trusting in church attendance, public acts of religiosity, baptism, family heritage, or anything you’ve done or are doing as the source of your salvation?
If so, God will cut you down, just as he did the scribes and the temple. There will not be one stone left in the edifice of your self-righteousness when you stand before the judgment seat of God. There is only one who is righteous, and only one who can save.
Jesus’ warnings to the Jews of the first century—to beware of self-righteous religious systems, attitudes, and leaders who lead people away from salvation—are warnings we still need today. The question you must ask, over and over again, of any religious leader, any church, and your own heart, is this: Am I being pointed to Christ? Am I being told to look away from myself, away from my works, and to the finished work of Christ in my place?
Look to Jesus’ perfect life as your righteousness. Look to his substitutionary, atoning death as your forgiveness. Look to his bodily resurrection as your life. Look to his ascension to the Father’s right hand as your confidence before God in prayer. Look to his glorious return as your future hope.
Your works cannot save you. No religious system can save you. No religious leader can save you—except the one who points you to the only Savior, Jesus Christ.
1 Corinthians 1:23–24 says: “We preach Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and folly to Gentiles, but to those who are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God.”
Friends, we must beware of self-righteousness. Beware of the temptation in your own heart. Beware of it in religious systems that encourage it. And beware of religious leaders who display it. Put your hope, your trust, your life in the powerful, wise, and righteous hands of the Lord Jesus Christ.
Would you pray?
Father God, we need your help and your protection from the self-righteousness that stirs within us. We want to believe that we're good enough on our own—but we are not. We are tempted to follow people and systems that seem impressive, that make us feel like we’re good enough. Lord, point us back again and again to our need for Christ and his absolute sufficiency for all we need.
Thank you that in him, we can pursue righteousness—not a righteousness of our own, but one given as a gift through your Holy Spirit, by the work of Christ in us.
It is in his name that we pray,Amen.
