Weaponized Devotion vs. Transformed Surrender: Matthew 15:1-20
- Austin Glines
- Nov 9, 2025
- 12 min read
Matthew 15:1-20
Then some Pharisees and scribes came to Jesus from Jerusalem and said, "Why do your disciples break the tradition of the elders? For they do not wash their hands when they eat bread?" And he answered and said to them, "Why do you yourselves also break the commandment of God for the sake of your tradition?
For God said, 'Honor your father and mother,' and 'the one who speaks evil of father or mother is to be put to death.' But you say, 'Whoever says to his father or mother, whatever I have that would help you has been given to God, he is not to honor his father or mother.' And by this you have invalidated the word of God for the sake of your tradition. You hypocrites, rightly did Isaiah prophesy about you, saying, 'This people honors me with their lips, but their heart is far from me, and in vain do they worship me, teaching as doctrines the commandments of men.'"
After Jesus called the crowd to him, he said to them, "Hear and understand. It is not what enters the mouth that defiles the person, but what comes out of the mouth. This defiles the person." When the disciples came and said to him, "Do you know that the Pharisees were offended when they heard this statement?" But he answered and said, "Every plant which my heavenly father did not plant will be uprooted. Leave them alone. They are blind guides of a blind people. And if a people who is blind guides another who is blind, both will fall into the pit."
Peter said to him, "Explain the parable to us." Jesus said, "Are you still lacking in understanding? Do you not know that everything that goes into the mouth passes into the stomach and is eliminated? But the things that come out of the mouth come from the heart, and those things defile the person. For out of the heart come evil thoughts, murders, acts of adultery, other immoral sexual acts, thefts, false testimonies, and slanderous statements. These are the things that defile the person, but to eat with unwashed hands does not defile the person."
When Flattery Masks Manipulation
At Royal Pines, I had a client whose shoulder rubs lasted so long, I was questioning if we were still in a professional relationship. Clients would size me up, see if they could flatter me enough, compliment me enough, so I'd show some favoritism. I was used to that. But this one client went over the top. He gave me really weird compliments—oddly specific ones about my muscles, about how I talked. He would give me awkwardly long handshakes, hugs, and shoulder rubs. Again, I was used to that, but I realized this wasn't out of affection or a need to learn boundaries. This was manipulation.
It came to a boiling point when I was driving him back from a court appointment. On our way back, he asked, "Can we stop by the convenience store?" He knew as well as I did that was against the rules. So I said, "No." In that moment, the energy shifted. At one moment he was my friend. The next moment, as I'm pulling out of my parking space, I glance over and see his face contorted in rage, eyes with a little bit of fire. He blows his lid about how we have too many rules and we really don't care about him. I was fine. I just let him rant it out. It didn't bother me.
But what I learned is this: flattery and manipulation never lead to connection. They always are a grasp for power.
I wish that was the end of it. Once he realized I was not going to budge and flatter him back and give him what he desired, he moved on. Left me alone. I thought he finally learned his place. However, on my day off a few weeks later, I came in the next day and learned that he had finally gone too far. It started with a lovely lady named Tashara—in the hallway he cornered her and hugged her a little too long. Then again, on the same day, he hugged another wonderful coworker of mine, another female, and went so far as to flick his tongue around her ear as she was obviously trying to get away. There was no misunderstanding. There was no "Oh, I was just affectionate." He was trying to find out how much control he had.
The consequences were immediate. He was discharged from the program. He left unchanged. He could have decided to come in and, rather than manipulate and flatter and struggle his way to the top, he could have decided to come and be transformed. But instead, he went back into probably a worse situation than when he came in and left as an outcast, empty as ever.
We all feel those moments, don't we? Think of the car salesman trying to tell you everything you want to hear so that you'll buy the car out of your price range. It's more than just an awkward moment. It's a symptom of something deeper, something ancient, which Jesus is pointing out in this passage.
The Corban Loophole
Let's step into the world Jesus was living in. Imagine your father, hands consumed with arthritis, shaking, comes to you and says, "Hey, I can't work anymore. My arthritis is too much. I need help paying my rent."
And you say, "Well, father, I'm sorry, but my hands are tied. I have declared the money that I would have given to you Corban." This is more sinister than giving it to the temple. The money stays in his bank account. He doesn't have to give it. It just sits there as devotion to God. Just say "This is devotion to God." The temple doesn't have to get a dime. The father goes hungry, possibly loses his house, and the son gets to look righteous as ever.
Let's not mark this off as a symptom that happened long ago. This is still happening in our churches and in our homes. We use our devotion as a shield. Rather than being genuinely devoted to God and allowing his love to transform us, we instead use this spirituality, this devotion—whatever you want to call it—to protect our interests. The man could say every dime in his bank account was devoted to God, but he never had to give away any of it. We can do the same things with areas of our lives: "Oh, I'm saving this for God." But really, are you doing this for something God would want you to do, or are you protecting your own interests?
When Service Becomes Selfishness
Picture a man who is part of every committee he can be. He serves at every event, leading Sunday school classes, doing things outside the church and in. He's always there. His wife comes up to him and says, "Hey honey, it's been a while. Can we go on a date? We haven't eaten dinner together in a long time." Not looking up, scrolling through the church calendar, she says, "Hey, it's been three months since we've even eaten together. Can we figure this out?" He goes, "Well, I would, but this weekend's the men's retreat. The next weekend, I've got a really big meeting for one of the committees I'm on."
She lets it go for a few weeks and asks the next month. Again, more events, more committee meetings, more opportunities he's doing at church. This happens month after month, and eventually it gets to the point where the wife, tired of eating by herself, submits for a trial separation. When the man hears about it, he's like, "But honey, I've been serving God."
She responds, almost with pity and sadness: "No, you've been serving yourself and hiding behind God to do it."
The Heart of Weaponized Devotion
This is what Jesus was calling out: merely saying "This is for God" and keeping it for yourself—that's no worship. That's no gift or sacrifice. You're using a legal loophole so that you don't have to help out your family members in need, so that you don't have to lose your money and your time and your possessions when the law would otherwise require you.
We can do the same thing as we saw with the man and his wife. The man was constantly at church and never took time to be the leader of his household. We can hide our problems behind a sort of devotion, a sort of spirituality or passion for God. But Jesus is getting to the heart of what that devotion is actually producing. For the man, his marriage fell apart. Did God want that? Absolutely not. Is that the fruit God would have for that man's marriage? No. We have to look at what our devotion actually produces and if we are actually living a life in surrender to him.
This is why I've called it weaponized devotion: we use it as a weapon to gain control in situations of life where we feel like we have no control. We hide behind a masquerade of spirituality to cover up our own failures and flaws, to cover up our own insecurities and weaknesses. Instead of surrendering those things to God, we try to keep control of ourselves and just put a little Jesus glitter on it. But it leads to the same consequences and results as any type of worldly living.
Where this shines through the most is that the divorce rate inside the church is as high as those outside the church. Sadly, there are too many stories of pastors whose marriages fall apart because they do the same thing. Rather than confronting the problems in their marriage head-on, they hide behind their position of leadership, enjoying the love of the congregation more than resting in the love of their wife.
Beyond Surface Changes
Paul sees this as well in Colossians 2:20-23: "If you have died with Christ to the elementary principles of the world, why, as if you were living in the world, do you submit yourself to decrees such as 'Do not handle, do not taste, do not touch,' which all refer to things destined to perish with use, in accordance with the commandments and teachings of men? These are matters which have, to be sure, the appearance of wisdom in self-made religion and humility and severe treatment of the body, but are of no value against fleshly indulgence."
That's a beautiful way to say that if you're relying on a mere attitude change or a mere different decision in life, that's not going to solve the core of the problem, which is sin itself.
Why we do this isn't something obviously evil in us. We might say, "Well, I don't want control. I don't feel those things." But it's pointing to deeper desires we have that a lot of times aren't obvious to us. It's hard to catch when we're in a wrong position of heart, when we have a skewed reason for doing something.
That's why it takes reflection and prayer. Prayer isn't just one-way communication, but what biblical scholars would call reflexive—a two-way street where we're not just giving our laundry list of requests to God, but we're taking a moment and allowing him to examine us and speak to us.
Questions for Self-Examination
If you want to take an examination to decide where your motives lie, start with prayer: "God, what's my real reason for following you?" Not the Sunday school answer. When you get to the bottom of it, is it fire insurance for the afterlife? Is it because you just think that's the best way to live and how you're going to achieve everything you want in life? Or is it just because that's how you grew up and you stuck to it? Because if it's one of those things and you live life just checking off the boxes, what you call faith might actually be legalism in disguise. It might be weaponized devotion.
We can go further: "No, I have a genuine loving relationship with Jesus as king." Let's take that a little deeper. When was the last decision that Jesus actually changed the outcome? Not just you were nice to someone because you know Jesus would want you to. But what was the last decision where being a follower of Jesus directed your choice in that moment?
When did it hurt? When did you want to make one choice but you felt the nudge of the Holy Spirit directing you to make another, and you chose that one when it hurt? Those choices could be knowing you need to have a tough conversation with a friend you were hurt by. You decide to pick up the phone anyway because you know the Holy Spirit is leading you to reconciliation and to forgive them even though you're not ready.
It could be doing something that makes you uncomfortable. You might not be a people person, but you might feel the Holy Spirit telling you to get involved in something here in Hayden—whether that be a yoga class or going to meet some new people when they have music on Friday nights at the community center. When was the last time following Jesus cost you something? Whether that be comfort, money, a relationship, or anything else.
Because trying to tinker with habits without allowing transformation to happen is like changing clothes when you need a bath. You might look fresh, but you still stink.
Becoming Your Truest Self
C.S. Lewis said it best: When we give more control to God, we start becoming the truest version of ourselves. It's not when we cling and grasp for control in our lives, making decisions that protect our interests and our wealth and our comfort. It's when we start handing over control to God. Here's the exact quote:
"The more we let God take us over, the more truly ourselves we become."
So where do you need to give God control in your life? Where are you holding back, using devotion as a shield rather than a moment of transformation? Where are you trying to protect your own interests rather than serve others?
What Surrender Looks Like
Surrender looks like this: When you want to make an excuse, when you want to defend yourself in a moment where you might be feeling led to step out of your comfort zone, you stop. You feel the Holy Spirit. You allow him to speak in that moment. And instead of explaining it away or excusing yourself out of an uncomfortable situation, you obey. You pick up the phone. You have the hard conversation. You apologize when you're not ready. That's surrender.
It feels like you're dying. It feels like you're giving yourself away. But that's actually the moment you truly begin to live.
A Story of Radical Surrender
This idea of surrender isn't just a nice idea. In the 18th century, there were two Moravian missionaries with the last names Dober and Nitschmann. They heard of an island in the Caribbean that allowed no outsiders unless they were slaves, and they knew that these people did not know the gospel. So Dober and Nitschmann chose to sell themselves into slavery so these people may find the hope in Jesus that, without this choice, they probably would go without.
On that day when they were getting on the boat to go to this island in the middle of the Caribbean, their families and friends stood weeping on the shore, probably wondering, "Is this really worth it? Why are they doing this? They're going to gain nothing out of this. They're probably going to die on that island." As they sailed away, the two men with hands clung together raised their hands and said, "May the lamb that was slain receive the reward of his suffering."
Meaning: may the suffering of Jesus lead to the salvation of these people on the island. And not only the suffering of Jesus, but the suffering they knew they were about to endure. They, as Paul said, even at times looked at themselves as participating in the suffering which Jesus himself underwent so that people can know him. Paul said that his sufferings were completing where the church was lacking.
Paul had a very insightful perspective that I think we can all grasp: he pointed out that the church, even in the first century, was using their devotion to protect themselves. They weren't stepping fully into the suffering and transformational surrender as Christ has called us all to. They were making excuses rather than reaching out a hand and serving the poor even when it hurt.
Your Next Step
So where can you release control like that? Maybe this week, choose to be vulnerable with a friend instead of keeping up the image of self that you've created with them. Tear down the walls between you and a friend. Be vulnerable about where your life is hard, about things you're struggling with, and start releasing the outcome of what that person will think about you to God.
Let go of needing control over what others think of you and rest in the knowledge that Jesus loves you because he completely sees you. Most likely, the friend that you choose to be vulnerable with will be able to love you even deeper because you are completely honest with them. Once you give up control, even in relationships, you find that it only leads to deeper connection.
The Paradox of the Cross
At the center of this paradox—releasing control and actually gaining it rather than grasping for control and constantly losing it—stands Jesus. Jesus knew the expectations of the Jewish people. He could have perfectly fulfilled them to the letter. He could have been the king they'd been waiting so long for, the king that rode on a big white horse leading the armies of Israel to overcome the evil empire of Rome. He could have manipulated the people by using their exact expectations of him and grasped power like every other king in human history.
But instead of God coming to earth and grasping for power like every other king in human history has tried, he chooses a cross over a throne and death rather than more manipulation, more self-promotion, more selfishness. He gives it all up. What looked like weakness was the greatest strength the world's ever seen.
So what if today you stopped trying so hard to control and started treasuring the one who surrendered everything for you? Because that's not the end of you. That's where life truly begins.



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