Matthew 6:2Meaning & Commentary from the Church Fathers

For you have spoken My name, but have not done My works’ (see Matthew 7:21-23). Thus, those who give to the poor solely for the sake of self-glorification have already been rewarded; and those who do not seek public acclaim still act in ways that ultimately promote their own glory, as mentioned previously. Truly, one who acts righteously should not aspire to gain human approval; rather, genuine praise should naturally accompany the one who does good, enabling others to be inspired to follow the good example, not for the benefit of the person being praised, but for the edification of all.

Thus, the Lord admonishes him, ‘Hypocrite, first remove the plank from your own eye.’ In God’s sight, it is not the act of virtue itself that gains favor, but rather the motivation behind that virtue. Moreover, if one has wandered slightly off the right path, it matters little whether one turns right or left, for the true path has been lost.

The Savior condemns this unholy behavior, delivering a clear judgment: “Amen I say to you, they shall receive their wages." They seek only human accolades in their charitable giving, receiving the recognition they desire. What should they expect from the Heavenly Father, whose approval they disregard in their acts of kindness? By concealing the cruelty and corruption of their hearts beneath a veneer of charity, they mistakenly believe they can shield themselves from the all-seeing gaze of the Lord, thus incurring further offense. Therefore, the vice of vanity corrupts the noble act of almsgiving, transforming it into a tool of deceit. To caution the faithful, the Savior contrasts this with the true essence of charity, saying, “But to you, He says, who do alms, let not your left hand know what your right hand is doing" (Matthew 6:3).

When you hear the disquieting sound of this adversary's trumpet within you, take a step back and engage in honest self-reflection. Someone within you may proclaim that certain qualities or actions are commendable, but consider why these thoughts emerge and draw your focus. I tell you, it is simply because a fragment of goodness exists within you. Were your deeds abundant in virtue, each individual act would fade into the overarching multitude, lacking distinctiveness. Just as one who possesses a wealth of money hardly notices the arrival of small sums, or as someone with an overabundance of garments pays no mind to additional clothing, our richness in good deeds can cause us to overlook the significance of each one.

Consequently, if someone finds delight in a particular good deed, it is likely because it stands out as singular. Even an imperfect deed can captivate attention, whereas an abundance would disperse focus, leaving one unsure of where to direct it. When you hear this inner trumpet, reflect on the fact that your fixation on a specific act is not an expression of self-exaltation but rather a reminder of your lack of virtues. Indeed, when considering the entirety of your actions, it is concerning that only this one deed catches your eye. If that is the case, your situation is truly wretched. Strive not to accumulate merely one good deed; rather, let your life unfold as an unbroken chain of virtuous acts.

Do not be swayed by the flattery that invites thoughts of self-glorification. Instead, recognize this temptation's impact and swiftly return to the realization that you are impoverished in good works acceptable to God when you dwell on this or that commendable action. Avoid elevating your opinion of yourself; instead, descend into humility and contrition. The moment you do this, the sound of the trumpet will cease.

It is permissible to give alms in a bustling street, yet not with the intention of gaining public admiration. The fate of such hypocrites is regrettable: Truly I say to you, they have already received their reward, enjoying the accolades and honor from people while being denied any reward from God; they do not merit it. God grants rewards only for genuine and untainted goodness, which they lack. While you may have genuinely done good, they possess none of that goodness. However, if you take pride in your charitable acts, they will fade away, revealing that your intentions were not sincere; what remains is vanity, and anything derived from vanity cannot be genuine goodness. Even people discern this; while they may commend you outwardly, they inwardly condemn your arrogance and hypocrisy. St. John Chrysostom observes that such hypocrites’ acts of giving appear generous only in form, masking a heart filled with cruelty and indifference. It is a grave inconsistency to seek glory and acclaim for oneself while neglecting to alleviate the suffering of those in need, especially when they are in dire straits. What then is the proper way to give alms?

In these words from the Gospel, the Lord defines the spiritual essence of charitable giving. It is intended solely for God; it should be an act performed in His presence, serving as a sacrifice for His glory. Today, we often perceive charity merely as a humane response, intrinsically linked to the individual or society. When we give, we often view it as a benefit to others, focusing on the good we do for our fellow man. When we contribute to a communal cause, we believe we are enhancing society. Our thoughts of God may become secondary. This is why it is common for us to seek acknowledgment for our good deeds. We might notice a beggar’s gratitude when we offer him help; when we donate to a charitable organization, we expect appreciation in return. We desire recognition through media coverage or public commendation, as this feels like a natural consequence of our acts of kindness when they are done for the approval of men.

However, God directs us to a different perspective. The primary relationship in the act of giving should be between the giver and God. When we give, it should be akin to an offering to God, with the recipient merely serving as a living altar. We ought to feel thankful for the opportunity to express our love to God through this sacrifice. Whether our act is acknowledged or ignored holds no relevance, similar to how the quality of the altar matters little compared to what we offer. The only outcome we should wish for is that our sacrifice is pleasing to God, and this likelihood increases with purity—meaning fewer extraneous motives and thoughts of personal recognition. When our focus is solely on God, our offering is more likely to be accepted.

There are moments in sacred history that illustrate this notion, such as the offerings of Cain and Abel. Cain’s smoke drifted across the earth, while Abel’s rose directly to heaven. Perhaps this was a manifestation that God disapproved of Cain’s offering but accepted Abel’s. Similarly, our acts of charity should not gain attention from the world. It is beneficial if they ascend directly to God as a pure offering, akin to Abel’s sacrifice, lifted up in the serene silence of our hearts.

If we understand charitable giving in this manner, it follows that we will naturally refrain from announcing it to the world. Instead, we would strive to keep it hidden from human eyes, safeguarding everything that is most precious and personal—much like we do with heartfelt prayers. We should avoid drawing attention to our deeds, allowing our left hand and right hand to remain unaware of each other’s actions. Ultimately, our giving is just a sacrifice to God, offering praise at this moment. Regardless of the nature or size of what we give, its significance before God is measured by our faith and love for Him.

When you place incense in the censer or light a candle, a moment later, everything is consumed. Whether the incense is large or small, or whether the candle is ornate or simple, does that truly matter to God? Is your faith not what holds value in His sight? Would you pause and take pride in lighting a larger candle? What significance does it hold for Him who created the vast universe? The essence of the act itself holds little weight. Thus, with our acts of charity, the giver understands that it is inconsequential whether the offering is great or small; both hold no intrinsic value to God, who owns all of creation.

A true benefactor does not linger on the merit of their actions; they remain grateful for the chance to express love for God and glorify Him. The next moment, their focus shifts to another opportunity to honor God, forgetting the previous offering, which has already passed like the fleeting fragrance from the censer. Anyone who limits their good deeds to merely human recognition or public acknowledgment must recognize that they are performing a human service rather than fulfilling God’s work. Such actions resemble those of pagans and will not resonate in eternity; they will fade along with the transitory noise of this world, failing to reach God or align with the command of Christ.

Reports of charitable works in newspapers are as relevant as detailing how fervently one prays or how one behaves in church. These matters are deeply personal, intended to be kept from the scrutiny of others; any intrusion into such personal acts is morally wrong. Therefore, every act of goodwill should reflect our prayer to God, our reverence for His name, and our gratitude to Him.

Regardless of the specific understanding, the overarching message is that one should give alms without seeking vanity or the applause of others.

Hypocrites is a term derived from actors who portray roles distinct from their genuine thoughts and feelings, reflecting a façade rather than authenticity. In the New Testament context, it refers to individuals who display a false sense of religiousity and righteousness, presenting themselves as devout while not embodying those qualities in truth. This was characteristic of the Pharisees, which is why the Savior frequently labeled them as hypocrites.

In the synagogues refers to the places of worship among the Jews (cf. note on Matthew 4:23), where it was customary to collect donations for the needy on the Sabbath. Their desire for human recognition has already been fulfilled; they have received the honor they sought from people, which constitutes their reward. They can expect no further acknowledgment or recompense from God, nor do they merit it.