Scripture Reading: 

Matthew 7:15-29

“Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep's clothing but inwardly are ravenous wolves. You will recognize them by their fruits. Are grapes gathered from thornbushes, or figs from thistles? So, every healthy tree bears good fruit, but the diseased tree bears bad fruit. 18 A healthy tree cannot bear bad fruit, nor can a diseased tree bear good fruit. Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. Thus you will recognize them by their fruits.

“Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. On that day many will say to me, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and do many mighty works in your name?’ And then will I declare to them, ‘I never knew you; depart from me, you workers of lawlessness.’

“Everyone then who hears these words of mine and does them will be like a wise man who built his house on the rock. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on the rock. And everyone who hears these words of mine and does not do them will be like a foolish man who built his house on the sand. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell, and great was the fall of it.”

And when Jesus finished these sayings, the crowds were astonished at his teaching, for he was teaching them as one who had authority, and not as their scribes.

Beware of Deception: The Danger of False Prophets (Matthew 7:15–20)  

As Jesus begins to draw His Sermon on the Mount to a close, He issues a series of warnings. Having laid out the ethics of the kingdom, the posture of a disciple, and the path of true righteousness, Jesus now pivots our attention to a danger that could derail everything we have studied over these last few weeks: “Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep’s clothing but inwardly are ravenous wolves.” (Matthew 7:15, ESV).

The first great danger Jesus highlights here is not persecution from the outside, but corruption from the inside. The warning is not against Rome, not against pagans, not even against open heresy, but against false prophets who look like the real thing. And so, Jesus says, “Beware… [they] come to you in sheep’s clothing.” That is, they blend in. They speak the language of the sheep. They may teach from the Bible, quote Scripture, even pray in Jesus’ name. But “inwardly they are ravenous wolves.” Let that image settle in. Wolves don’t nibble. They devour. They are not content to mislead one or two, they aim to ravage the flock. What makes them so dangerous is not just their error, but their disguise. In Matthew 24:11, He warns that “many false prophets will arise and lead many astray.” Not one or two. Many. 

This isn’t just a first-century issue. If anything, in our age of mass media, global platforms, and celebrity Christianity, this danger is more present than ever. False prophets have pulpits. They have podcasts. They have publishing contracts and packed arenas. But Jesus doesn’t tell us to judge them by their platforms. He tells us to look deeper. False prophets do not usually come with horns and pitchforks. They don’t begin by denying Christ, they begin by redefining Him. They don’t lead with blatant rebellion, they lead with compromise. They raise questions rather than offer clarity: “Did God really say…?” They veil their rebellion in nuance: “We must be careful not to be too narrow.” They flatter with soft speech: “God wants you to be true to yourself.” They often appeal to our comfort, our pride, or our desire for worldly acceptance. They replace the call to repentance with the language of affirmation. They trade the narrow gate for the wide road, and they call it love. And they are persuasive. Paul warned Timothy that “the time is coming when people will not endure sound teaching, but having itching ears they will accumulate for themselves teachers to suit their own passions” (2 Timothy 4:3). The deceivers will always have an audience, because their message scratches where the culture itches.

But Jesus sees through it, and he exposes the wolf beneath the wool. These false prophets are not interested in the kingdom of God, they are building kingdoms of their own. They do not seek to make disciples of Jesus, they seek followers for themselves. And they do not serve out of love, they manipulate through fear, guilt, or charm. They may build large followings, but Jesus says their foundation is sand. And when the winds of judgment come, the house will fall.

So how do we recognize them? Not by charisma. Not by eloquence. Not by popularity. Jesus says, “You will recognize them by their fruits.” (v.16) Not their gifts, but their fruit. Not their vocabulary, but their character. Fruit, in Scripture, is the outward evidence of an inward reality. It’s what grows from the root. And just as you won’t find figs on thorn bushes or grapes on thistles, you won’t find godly fruit in a corrupt heart. 

“So, every healthy tree bears good fruit, but the diseased tree bears bad fruit. A healthy tree cannot bear bad fruit, nor can a diseased tree bear good fruit” (Matthew 7:17-18).  A diseased root will eventually bear diseased results. You may not see it at first. There may be seasons where the fruit looks passable. But over time, the truth will emerge. So what kind of fruit are we to look for?

Look for the fruit of the Spirit; “love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control” (Galatians 5:22–23). Look for the kind of righteousness Jesus just outlined in the Sermon on the Mount: poverty of spirit, mercy, purity of heart, a hunger and thirst for righteousness, peacemaking. Look for a life that bears the imprint of the cross. 

False prophets produce toxic fruit: manipulation, divisiveness, pride, greed, exploitation, and moral compromise. They may talk about Jesus, but they don’t walk like Him. And eventually, the harvest tells the truth. Jesus concludes with a chilling verdict: “Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire” (v.19). This is a preview of judgment. The fire here is not metaphorical, it is an end times reality. Hell is not just for murderers and tyrants. It is for false prophets who lead others astray.

The danger is real. And the Church must not be naive. We are called to love, but we are also called to beware. Grace does not eliminate discernment. In fact, grace makes discernment more urgent, because eternal souls are at stake. So let us be wise. Let us be humble, but not gullible. Let us be charitable, but not careless. Let us judge not by appearances, but by the standard Christ has given: their fruit. Not their charm, not their résumé, not their follower count. Look for the fruit of the Spirit. Look for lives shaped by the cross. Look for faithfulness to the Word of God.

And above all, let us stay close to the True Shepherd. Because the safest sheep are not the smartest or the fastest, they are the ones who stay near the voice of their Shepherd. Jesus is that Shepherd. And He is still saying today: “My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me.” (John 10:27) So listen carefully. Walk closely. And beware.

Empty Words vs. Active Obedience (vv. 21–23)  

Jesus then moves from addressing false teachers to addressing false disciples:  “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven.” (Matthew 7:21, ESV). 

Pause and let that settle in. It is possible to call Jesus “Lord,” to do great things in His name, and yet still not belong to Him. There are those who profess allegiance to Christ but live in contradiction to His teaching. People who say the right things. People who call Him “Lord.” People who look the part, sound the part, and may have even done great things in His name. And yet, He says, some of them will be turned away. This ought to cause every single one of us to pause and reflect with sober judgment.

Notice the repetition, “Lord, Lord.” This suggests passion. These are not irreligious people. These are individuals who are emotionally invested. These are people who blast Christian music in their cars. These are people who sing loudly in church. These are people who could be brought to tears by a powerful sermon. They were passionate, but were they obedient? Did they follow Him? Did they know Jesus, or were they simply moved by the story and the spectacle? 

Feeling strong emotions is not obedience. Saying the right things is not the same as doing the right things. We are not saved by our good works, but saving faith is always evidenced by the fruit it produces. Jesus is not looking for fans who shout His name from the sidelines. He’s calling for followers who walk His path with their lives. The essence of discipleship is not found in shouting “Lord,” but in living as though He truly is the Lord of your life.

Notice what else he says: “On that day many will say to me, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and do many mighty works in your name?’” (Mathew 7:22, ESV). These people were preaching, casting out demons, performing miracles. They had powerful ministries. They did what looked like the very works of Christ Himself. And yet, Jesus replies: “Then I will declare to them, ‘I never knew you; depart from me, you workers of lawlessness’” (v.23). Let the weight of that settle in. Not, “I used to know you.” Not, “You lost your way.”  But, “I never knew you.”

To “know” someone in Scripture is to be deeply relational. It’s covenantal. It’s personal. The issue is not their lack of activity, it’s their lack of intimacy. They were active in ministry but absent from a relationship with Christ. They were busy with the name of Jesus, but never bowed to the lordship of Jesus. And Jesus says plainly: “I never had that with you.” And then He names the real issue: “You workers of lawlessness.”  They looked religious. But they lived lawless. They wore the robes of righteousness, but beneath was a heart in rebellion.

It is possible to be gifted and still godless. Charisma is not a substitute for character. And activity done in Jesus’ name is no substitute for obedience to Jesus’ will. Notice how these rejected individuals approach Jesus. They come not with worship or submission, but with a résumé: “Didn’t we… didn’t we… didn’t we…” Their focus is on what they did. Not on what Christ did. Not on the grace that saves, but on the works that impress. Their ministry was not born out of love for God but out of a love for recognition, influence, or power. 

Jesus’ name is not a formula to be wielded for our success. Yet these individuals used it like a brand. They attach the name of Jesus to their goals, their missions, their movements. Jesus was their means to an end. But He was never the end Himself. He was their platform, not their King. But we must remember: the name of Jesus is not a marketing label. It is not a political tool. It’s not a magic word. It is the name above every name, before whom every knee must bow. It’s possible to serve in the name of Jesus while serving the idol of self. True obedience doesn't say, “Look what I’ve done.” It says, “Look who He is.” We are not called to use Jesus. We are called to be used by Jesus. He is not a tool to build our kingdoms. He is the King to whom we surrender all.

This passage is not meant to drive us into despair, but it is meant to drive us into honesty. Jesus is not trying to frighten His followers into doubt, but to warn us against the deadly comfort of empty religion. This is grace speaking here, even in hard words. 

So ask yourself, do I look for evidence of faith in my words or in my walk? Do I find security in what I’ve done, or in what Christ has done for me? Am I submitting to His will, or merely speaking His name? Do I desire His presence, or just what He can give me? James 1:22 urges us, “But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves.”

III. Hearing vs. Doing: The Parable of the Two Builders (vv. 24–27)  

Finally, as Jesus draws the curtain on the Sermon on the Mount, He does not end with a gentle benediction. He ends with a challenge and a call to action. He tells a story, a parable that divides all humanity into two kinds of people: the wise and the foolish. Two builders. Two houses. One storm. Two eternities.

“Everyone then who hears these words of mine and does them will be like a wise man… and everyone who hears these words of mine and does not do them will be like a foolish man…” (vv. 24, 26).

Jesus presents us with two builders. One is called “wise” the other “foolish.” That’s not a comment on their IQ, their education, or their talents. What separates the “wise” and the “foolish” is that the wise live by the truth while the foolish ignore it.

Notice what both builders have in common. They both hear Jesus’ words. They are not ignorant. They are not unreached. These are people who have been exposed to truth. They both build a house. They are not passive or lazy. They are making choices, crafting lives, planning futures. They both face the same storm. Jesus doesn’t say the wise avoid hardship. No, “the rain fell, the floods came, and the winds blew” on both houses. So far, they seem the same. From the outside, one house might look just as good as the other. If anything, the foolish builder may have built faster, higher, more elaborately. But here’s the difference: the wise one builds on rock, and the foolish on sand. 

It’s not what you hear that determines your future. It’s what you do with what you hear.  Jesus doesn’t leave us guessing about what the rock is. The rock is not tradition. The rock is not “spiritual vibes” or church attendance. The rock is not just belief in who Jesus is. The rock is doing what He says. Obedience to “these words of mine.” 

And He says plainly: the wise person is the one who hears and does. That little word “does” matters. It implies intentionality, action, and decision. Not merely agreeing. Not merely feeling moved. Not nodding in a sermon. Doing what Jesus taught us to do. The foolish builder also hears. But he doesn’t obey. Maybe he’s distracted. Maybe he’s too busy. Maybe he assumes listening is enough. Maybe he builds on sand because it’s quicker, easier, more popular. But the result is the same: when the storm comes, the foundation gives way. 

From a distance, the difference isn’t obvious. But when the storm hits, when the winds of suffering blow, when the floods of temptation rise, when the rains of judgment fall, only obedience holds. It’s possible to look like a Christian, speak like a Christian, even serve like a Christian, while building on a foundation of sand. The house built on the rock “did not fall, because it had been founded on the rock” (v.25). The house built on sand “fell, and great was the fall of it” (v.27). Jesus doesn’t just say it fell. He adds: “great was the fall of it.” The collapse is total. The consequences are eternal. This is not just a sad ending, it’s a final judgment. 

Conclusion:

As we close the Sermon on the Mount, remember this: if you heard all of this as just religious talk or noble ideas, I’ve failed you.  Matthew ends by saying the crowds were “astonished” by Jesus’ authority. But astonishment isn’t obedience. You can be moved and still unchanged. Jesus didn’t want fans. He wanted followers. One true disciple matters more than a thousand admirers. This is not about being impressed by Jesus. This is not about a feeling in your heart. This is about surrendering to Him. So here’s the challenge: Don’t just listen. Live it. Don’t just study. Surrender. Don’t just admire Christ, build your life on Him.

Closing Prayer:

Father God, You have spoken clearly. You have not left us in the dark. You’ve warned us of wolves in sheep’s clothing, of empty words that sound holy but lack obedience, and of houses built on sand. And now, Lord, we ask You to search our hearts. Make us wise builders, people who not only hear Your words, but who live them. Help us not to settle for admiration, but to walk in active allegiance. Keep us from deception, from spiritual performance, and from the shallow foundations of self. Let our lives bear the fruit of true discipleship. Let our roots go deep in Your Word. And when the storms come, and we know that they will, may we be found standing firm on the Rock that is Christ. We ask this in the powerful, trustworthy, and holy name of Jesus. Amen.