The Danger of Hypocrisy to the Church and Ourselves

Isaiah gives voice to a scathing critique of the hypocrisy that is rampant among his people.

God exhorts the prophet, “Shout out, do not hold back! Lift up your voice like a trumpet! Like a shofar!” Broadcast how his people have breached trust, how they have trespassed, how they have embraced and seized what is not theirs and failed those who are in need. 

And what angers God here, more than how his people have turned from him, is the illusion they project of following him.

Day after day they present themselves as people who seek God and delight in his ways,

“as if they were a nation that practiced righteousness 

and did not forsake the ordinance of their God”

“As if”.

The first part of Isaiah’s prophecy is a denunciation of those who have violated their relationship with God, in particular those who, in his words, fast without seeing, and after calling out for truth he goes on to outline how they might begin mending this catastrophic breach.  

This prophecy is a condemnation of all who engage publicly or privately in religious practices while lacking integrity. In this case, he calls out those who fast but miss the mark, and he enumerates a number of entangled issues contribute to their falling short.

A key problem is that even as they fast they remain focused on themselves, and while they make a show of their piety, they exploit those upon whom their livelihood depends. Their negligence of the poor, lashing out, quarrelling, fighting, and striking betrays that even in fasting they remain stuck in destructive habits. What should be a deeply transformative spiritual practice is, in fact, superficial masquerading. 

So why are they even bothering to fast? What motivates them? Perhaps they hold a transactional view of pious behaviors—if they do x they will find favor with God regardless of whatever else they do or leave undone. Or perhaps, they do something good to cancel out something regrettable. Or perhaps, as their lying in sackcloth and ashes suggests, their fasting is for mostly show. An effort to fool others, to fool themselves, maybe even to fool God. It’s probably some murky combination of all three factors. Whatever the intent, the prophet admonishes pious practices fall short of transformation. To be clear, this is no wholesale condemnation of fasting, but rather a pointed critique of distorted practices that have only the veneer of piety. “Such fasting,” Isaiah is clear, “will not make your voice heard on high.”

When I wear a collar, I seem to invite strangers in hospital elevators and grocery stores to share their views on God and church. When I’m tired and people tell me that they don’t believe in “organized religion”, my first thought is, “yeah, me either--we’re really not that organized.” 

But if I can keep quiet a minute and ask what it is that the person in front of me doesn’t believe in or doesn’t like, to ask why it is that they’ve left church or have kept it at arm’s length, the answer is usually hypocrisy. They have been disillusioned by pious words and practices that are at odds with the rest of how self-professed Christians live. There is grave danger when their intent is transactional, when fasting doesn’t come with a cost, and when seemingly pious such words and behaviors manipulate and harm. There is no greater threat to the church than hypocrisy.

And while religious hypocrisy has a history older than the prophets and is certainly not only an American phenomenon, home is a good place to start airing dirty laundry. I’ll start us off by naming forms hypocrisy takes among leaders in Christian circles and leaders of our nation who claim to be Christian. 

“Shout out, do not hold back! Lift up your voice like a shofar!”

Shout out the hypocrisy of those who preach and campaign on traditional family values under the guise of protecting children while they turn a blind eye to those held in detention centers and block incriminating files held by the Justice Department. 

Shout out the hypocrisy of those whose Scripture affirms that all are made in the divine image while deny dignity to humans from other backgrounds and stir up fear and loathing toward queer children of God. 

Shout out the hypocrisy of those who sing praises to the Prince of Peace while threatening and perpetuating endless wars and violence.

Of those who disguise colonization as proselytizing and charity.

Of those whose Prosperity Gospel justifies lives of extravagant luxury. 

Of those who send missionaries abroad but refuse to accept strangers into their own land or discover something new about through them. 

Of those who promote God’s kingdom while turning away asylum seekers. 

Of those who preach grace and mercy while instilling fear and detaining immigrants.

Shout out, do not hold back, lift up your voice and call out the hypocrisy of those who lament the arrest, kangaroo court trial, and violent death of their Savior under Roman law, while defending a justice system infested with police brutality, telling incarceration rates, corruption, and damning double-standards. 

Or maybe, it’s hypocrisy among those whom we have known intimately—of parents or a pastor who act one way in church and another way at home or in the world.  

Self-righteousness paired with a lack of integrity is what gives rise to Isaiah’s biting appraisal of a people who live “as if they were a nation that practiced righteousness and did not forsake the ordinance of their God.”

There is no defending the Church from those who are disillusioned by hypocrisy. The credibility of Jesus has been marred by the double-dealing of those who claim to follow him. Each of us has experienced two-facedness that can chip away at our faith, if not leave us feeling utterly gutted. 

And while we can easily get swept up in the fervor of outrage, if we allow ourselves to sit in silence and listen for the Spirit, instances our own hypocrisy are likely to surface. Often as a whisper at first, but soon blaring like a shofar we would prefer to stifle with distractions. Not always, but outrage can be a form of distraction. 

The picture in the first part of Isaiah’s prophecy as in our own times looks bleak, but following the truth-telling there’s a shift that ushers in hope: God remains in conversation even with those who have betrayed him in hollow acts of piety, and he offers guidance on how to fast in earnest. Fasting entails giving up something that we generally consider essential to our wellbeing.

Through the prophecy, God invites us to a new form of fast in which we forfeit something of our own as we participate in the struggle to lose bonds of injustice, free the oppressed, share our bread with the hungry, house the homeless poor, and clothe those in need. And true fasting comes at a cost, we cede one source of strength – though we also gain another. 

In our surrender of self-reliance, the prophecy promises, 

the light shall break forth like the dawn and you will be healed.

Then you shall call, and the Lord will answer;
you shall cry for help, and he will say, Here I am.

The Lord will guide you continually,
and satisfy your needs in parched places, 
and make your bones strong; 

and you shall be like a watered garden,
like a spring of water, 
whose waters never fail. 

Your ancient ruins shall be rebuilt;
you shall raise up the foundations of many generations; 

you shall be called the repairer of the breach,
the restorer of streets to live in.