We Are Not Better Than the Pharisees: A Humbling Wake-Up Call for the Modern Church

We Are Not Better Than the Pharisees: A Humbling Wake-Up Call for the Modern Church

We often read the Gospels with a smug distance. “How could the Pharisees miss it?” we ask, as if we wouldn’t have done the same. But these men were born into a rich tradition, trained rigorously in the Scriptures, and shaped by a worldview immersed in covenant, sacrifice, and Temple life. Many of them could quote Torah and the Prophets from memory—far beyond what most modern Christians could recite from the New Testament. And yet, with all that knowledge, many still missed the first coming of the Messiah. That should humble us.

We forget that even Jesus' own family misunderstood Him. His disciples walked with Him for years, heard His teachings, saw His miracles—and were still confused, disillusioned, and at times completely wrong. Peter rebuked Him. Thomas doubted. John was bowing down to angels.  John the Baptist, from prison, asked, “Are you the one, or should we look for another?” These were not skeptics. These were insiders. And they still didn’t see clearly.

The early church didn’t figure things out overnight, either. It took generations before doctrines were fully articulated and systematized—if even then without confusion. The Book of Acts isn’t a blueprint of perfection. It's a record of trial and error, confusion, conflict, and course correction. Corinthian Christians tolerated incest, sued each other, mingled with idols, and misused the Lord’s Supper. The Jerusalem church wrestled with Gentile inclusion and food laws. Paul faced opposition, controversy, and tension wherever he went—including from fellow believers.

Yet we, centuries removed from their world, act as if our systems and traditions are airtight. We forget how far we are from the first-century Jewish culture—its figures of speech, proverbs, symbols, idioms, and genres. We read Scripture through Western eyes, often shaped more by sci-fi novels and Hollywood than by the Ancient Near East. And worse, many cling to the Church Fathers as if they were infallible—projecting their Platonic frameworks onto Hebraic texts. This is the appeal to tradition fallacy in action.

We even continue to make the same mistakes as those in Jesus’ day. We misunderstand His words: mistaking "eat my flesh" for cannibalism, “living water” for pumping a well, "born again" as reincarnation or prenatal mysticism. We still crave a physical, political kingdom of power and control, just like many Jews did under Rome. But Jesus said, “My kingdom is not of this world.” He never came to establish a utopia, yet we demand one in His name.

The apostles did not have perfect doctrine. Paul admitted his perplexity (2 Cor. 4:8), struggled to interpret visions (2 Cor. 12), and often faced opposition even from other apostles. Paul wrote things even Peter found “hard to understand.” And yet through all their confusion, God worked. He always works through humble vessels, not perfect systems.

Conclusion 

If God's goal was never to create a physical, earthly utopia would we still want Him? Or are we only interested in a Messiah who serves our political agendas, comforts our lifestyles, and promises us a pain-free paradise? God has hidden treasures in His Word—not on the surface, but deep below. He invites seekers to dig. To question. To wrestle. He rewards those who refuse to settle for easy answers and popular theology. The truth isn’t in tradition. It’s not even in church councils. It’s in Christ Himself—revealed through Scripture, history, and the Spirit.