Reflecting on Matthew 7:24–27
Few people would argue that the teachings of Jesus aren’t beautiful. Love your enemies. Forgive those who wrong you. Give generously. Refuse to be consumed by anxiety. Even those who wouldn’t call themselves Christians often admire the vision of life Jesus presents in the Sermon on the Mount. Yet admiration was never Jesus’ goal. Throughout this sermon, Jesus has not simply been offering wise advice or practical principles for a better life. He has been revealing what life looks like under his gracious rule as King.
As Jesus brings the Sermon on the Mount to a close, he leaves his listeners with one final illustration. It is a simple story about two builders, yet it asks one of the most searching questions in all of Scripture: What does it really mean to follow Jesus? At first, there is very little to distinguish the two men. Both hear Jesus’ teaching. Both build a house. Both experience the same storm. Yet when the storm passes, only one house remains standing.
“Therefore, everyone who hears these words of mine and acts on them will be like a wise man who built his house on the rock. The rain fell, the rivers rose, and the winds blew and pounded that house. Yet it didn’t collapse, because its foundation was on the rock. But everyone who hears these words of mine and doesn’t act on them will be like a foolish man who built his house on the sand. The rain fell, the rivers rose, the winds blew and pounded that house, and it collapsed. It collapsed with a great crash.” (Matthew 7:24–27)
One of the striking features of this parable is that both builders hear the words of Jesus. The foolish builder is not someone who has never encountered Christ. He has listened to the same sermon as the wise builder. He has heard the same invitation to repentance, the same call to seek first God’s kingdom, and the same encouragement to trust the Father instead of worrying about tomorrow. The difference lies in what he does with what he has heard.
Jesus says that the wise man is the one who “hears these words of mine and does them.” Hearing and obeying belong together. Throughout Scripture, God has never desired mere familiarity with his Word. When Israel received the Law, they were called not only to know it, but to walk in it. In the same way, Jesus is not looking for people who simply admire his teaching. He is calling disciples who will entrust themselves to him and order their lives according to his words. James makes the same point when he writes,
“But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves.” (James 1:22)
James’ warning exposes a danger that exists for every believer. It is possible to spend years around the Bible and remain largely unchanged. We can faithfully attend church, listen to excellent preaching and read Christian books while quietly resisting the work God wants to do in our hearts. Knowledge of Scripture is a wonderful gift, but knowledge alone is not the mark of spiritual maturity. True faith is seen as God’s Word takes root in our hearts and begins to shape the way we live. This is not because our obedience earns God’s favour. Scripture is clear that we are saved by grace through faith, not by our works (Ephesians 2:8–9). Rather, obedience is the fruit of a life that has come to trust Christ. We follow him because he has first loved us and given himself for us.
If Jesus’ words lead to life, why do we so often struggle to put them into practice? The apostle Paul gives voice to a battle that every Christian knows.
“For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing.” (Romans 7:19)
We recognise ourselves in those words. We know we should forgive, but resentment often feels easier. We know Jesus tells us not to be anxious (Matthew 6:25–34), yet we continue to carry burdens that our heavenly Father invites us to place into his hands. We know we are called to seek first God’s kingdom (Matthew 6:33), yet our hearts are often drawn towards comfort, success and the approval of others. The Christian life is not free from this struggle. Yet neither are we left to fight it alone. Paul goes on to remind us that “the Spirit helps us in our weakness” (Romans 8:26). The Holy Spirit patiently works within God’s people, shaping us into the likeness of Christ. Our growth is often slower than we would like, but God is faithful to complete the work he has begun (Philippians 1:6).
Beneath our struggle to obey often lies a deeper question… Can God really be trusted?
That question first appears in the Garden of Eden. “Did God actually say…?” (Genesis 3:1) The serpent was not simply encouraging Adam and Eve to break God’s command. He was inviting them to question God’s character. Was God truly good? Could he really be trusted? Or was he withholding something better? The same temptation confronts us today. Our culture tells us that fulfilment is found in self-expression, comfort and success. Jesus calls us to love our enemies, forgive those who hurt us, seek first God’s kingdom and lay down our lives for the sake of others. His teaching often runs against everything our hearts and our culture tell us to pursue. Yet Jesus does not ask us to obey because he delights in making life difficult. Every command he gives flows from his wisdom and his love. He knows us better than we know ourselves, and he knows the kind of life we were created to live. What often appears costly in the moment is, in the end, the path of true freedom and lasting joy.
Jesus never promises that those who follow him will avoid hardship. The rain falls on both houses. The floods come to both builders. The winds beat against both foundations. Christians experience grief, disappointment and suffering just as everyone else does because we live in the same fallen world. The difference is not whether storms come, but what our lives have been built upon. If our confidence rests in our achievements, our possessions or even our own goodness, those foundations will eventually prove unable to bear the weight placed upon them. But those who have placed their trust in Christ have a foundation that cannot be shaken. David celebrates this reality in Psalm 40,
“He drew me up from the pit of destruction, out of the miry bog, and set my feet upon a rock, making my steps secure.” (Psalm 40:2)
Ultimately, Jesus is not calling us to build our lives upon our own obedience. He is calling us to build our lives upon himself. He alone is the sure foundation. His perfect righteousness, his sacrificial death and his victorious resurrection are the only hope of our salvation. As the Sermon on the Mount comes to an end, Jesus leaves every reader with the same question he gave to those listening on the hillside. Will we hear his words and leave unchanged, or will we trust him enough to build our lives upon them? Christ is our rock. There is no surer place to build.