Sermon on hypocrisy, anxiety, and trust in God, preached from Acts 4:32–5:11
A sermon by Rev Harry Newton at SumRed Church, delivered on 16th November 2025.
Summary
Rev Harry Newton preaches from Acts 4:32–5:11, focusing on the story of Ananias and Sapphira, who sold property but secretly kept back part of the proceeds while claiming to give the full amount to the apostles. Newton argues that the central issue in the passage is not a lack of generosity but hypocrisy — the act of projecting a false image of righteousness while concealing the truth. He contends that hypocrisy is one of the greatest threats to Christianity, not merely because it damages the reputation of the church as an institution, but because it distorts how people perceive Jesus himself. Most significantly, Newton argues that hypocrisy is not simply a moral failing but a symptom of spiritual anxiety — a deep-rooted lack of trust in God — and that the antidote is found in the good news of Jesus: that God's love is unconditional and proven through the cross, making pretence unnecessary.
Key Takeaways
FULL TRANSCRIPT
Introduction and Context
Rev Harry Newton: Good morning, everybody. My name's Harry. Welcome to church. That's when you say kia ora back. Kia ora, everyone. Feel like you're back in school?
How good would that story be if instead Ananias and Sapphira had been confronted, said sorry, given the money away, and everyone moved on — the world full of sunshine and lollipops? How much better would that be? But instead we've got this awkward story where these two people are struck down from on high for doing something which, I suspect, a lot of people have probably done — which is told a fib.
If you haven't been with us recently, we're doing a short series looking through the opening chapters of the book of Acts. The book of Acts is part two of a series of books written by a man called Luke, telling us all about the early church, the life of Jesus of Nazareth, his death and resurrection, and his ministry.
Some people have accused Luke of having a quite idealised view of the church. He talks about how they took on the authorities and called out the hypocrisy, how they shared everything they had with other people, how they had these incredible healings — over 3,000 people baptised on one day, 5,000 on another, all these incredible things. And then you get to this story and you think: oh, actually, he is open and honest about how the church is what Walter Brueggemann, a theologian, refers to as a mixed economy. This idea that the church is not a group of perfect saints, but actually a group of people who are all a bit mixed up and a bit different.
As I say, it's an awkward story. I kind of wish we could have sunshine and lollipops, but obviously that's not what happens. So what's going on here? What is Luke, our author, trying to tell us through this story, and how are we supposed to make sense of it? In other words, why should you care? Why should I care?
There's lots you can draw out from this story — something about the holiness of God, the correlation between the old temple cult, the old covenant temple cult style of worship, and the new covenant of God's people through the church. There are always amazing links we could explore. But I think there's something else this passage says to us here today.
Barnabas and the Context of Generosity
Before we go into that, I just want to quickly look at the context, because context is always helpful for understanding a text.
Luke, our author, begins by telling us about Barnabas, who is from the tribe of Levi and is, quote, a native of Cyprus — meaning he is a Jew of mixed heritage. Has anyone here been to Cyprus? I have too. It's a beautiful, beautiful place. And it means that he wasn't fully Jewish in the traditional sense, because Levites weren't allowed to own land — that was against the rules. And yet here he is, a Levite owning land. He's a Jewish man of mixed heritage living from Cyprus who has become a Christian, and he sells his land and brings the money and puts it at the apostles' feet.
The significance of that lies right at the beginning of our reading this morning. We read about how money was laid at the apostles' feet and was distributed to each as any had need. In other words, Barnabas sells his land, gives the proceeds to the twelve disciples — Jesus' inner cohort, the people leading this thing that gets called a church for the very first time — and then they pass it on to those in need in the community. And that's pretty amazing.
If you know your Bible, or if you were here last week, you might recall that Luke says lots of people gave away lots of things to help lots of people in need. But there's obviously something notable about Barnabas. He gives a particularly high amount of money at a large personal cost to himself. The mana, the respect, and the talk that this would have created — not just in the church but around Jerusalem.
Think of the fanciest house in Scarborough, Sumner, or the Redcliffs area. I'm thinking of the one down by the park with the indoor swimming pool — the heated indoor swimming pool that looks out through a glass wall to the ocean as you swim. Imagine you had that house, and then the person who owns that house becomes a Christian and sells it and gives every cent to the food bank. Chris Lynch would be down there with his GoPro filming the whole thing, making a story. It would probably make the news. It would definitely be on the local Sumner page. Everyone would have an opinion. Someone would say, oh, that's a terrible thing to do. Someone would say, oh, that's the best thing you could possibly do. But that person's name would ring out, wouldn't it? Everyone would know about what had happened.
And so in a similar sense, Barnabas has taken his land, sold it, given every cent to those in need, and his name is ringing out.
Ananias and Sapphira: The Nature of Their Offence
Enter Ananias and Sapphira. Now, we're not told explicitly why they did what they did, but we are told that they sold a piece of property, kept back some of the proceeds, and brought only a part of it and laid it at the apostles' feet — all while declaring that this was the total amount they had made from the sale and that they were giving it all to the poor.
Why? Why did they do that? Because there was no compulsion — as we're told in the reading — for them to sell their land. We're not talking about an enforced form of Christian socialism or communism. We're not being told that you have to give everything you have to other people. There's something else going on here.
Ananias and Sapphira owned the land. They could do whatever they wanted with it. They could have kept it, sold it, given all the money away, kept some of the money. The issue was not what they did with the money. The issue was their hypocrisy.
What Hypocrisy Actually Is
What is hypocrisy? I think we can all think in our heads what a hypocrite is. Most of us would probably have a similar kind of definition. If I said to you, what's a hypocrite, you'd probably say something along the lines of: someone who says this but does that. That's a fair definition.
Think of a recovering alcoholic — a friend who's open about their past, who goes to support groups, who is slowly getting better, who occasionally slips up, but is doing their best. And along the way, they become the most zealous, most passionate advocate for sobriety and the dangers of addiction. Would you call them a hypocrite? No, of course you wouldn't. They're not pretending. They're sharing what they believe as they're on their own journey to sobriety. It's not hypocrisy to aspire to, espouse, and believe in higher ideals to which you aspire but struggle to attain. That doesn't make you a hypocrite.
But what if that same friend started presenting themselves as the model of sobriety? They act like they have it all together, and they start looking down their nose at other recovering addicts and alcoholics because they consider themselves superior, because they've got it all together. That's when it becomes hypocritical, isn't it? It would be hypocritical not because they fail to live up to the virtues to which they aspire, but because they're pretending to have lived up to those values despite actually failing. That's hypocrisy. It's acting. It's putting on a mask and projecting this image to the world — this righteous, together image — that you know you're not.
Hypocrisy is all about hiding. And when we hide behind a false front, we're no longer being truthful about who we are — not just to others, but also to ourselves. By that standard, Ananias and Sapphira are being hypocrites. They're pretending to be generous so they can gain the reputation and the appearance of devotion without the reality of it.
But why? Where does their lack of integrity and their hypocrisy come from? It doesn't explicitly say, but I suspect it came from the very human need for recognition and belonging.
Hypocrisy as a Threat to the Church
It's very easy to read this story and go, ah yes, hypocrites — terrible, terrible people. Ananias and Sapphira, you're terrible people. Look at them. But as Jesus reminds us in the Gospel of Matthew chapter 7, we always need to look at ourselves before we judge others. Because how often are we too hypocritical? I know I am at times, as much as I hate to admit it. I would say we are all at times more hypocritical than we care to admit. In fact, I'd go as far as saying that anyone and everyone who follows the way of Jesus is probably prone to being a little bit hypocritical at times.
And that's an issue. That's an issue because arguably the biggest threat to Christianity and to the church — both then, 2,000 years ago, and today — is hypocrisy. And part of the reason hypocrisy is such a threat is because it damages not just how people see the church. Frankly, who cares how people see an institution? Who cares how they see a local church? It reflects on how they perceive and understand Jesus. There are so many people who have rejected Jesus — not because of Jesus himself, but because of people who acknowledge him with their lips and walk out the door and deny him by their lifestyle. It's what an unbelieving world simply finds unbelievable.
Now, if you go to church and then you walk out the door and you stuff up, you're not condemned. That's the good news of Jesus. But when we walk out the door and act like a Pharisee and judge other people, we become hypocritical. People have seen too many examples of Christians who preach one thing and do another. Think of those high-profile church leaders and all those terrible public scandals — not just Catholic priests, but across all the different denominational divides. And by the way, none of that is new. Jesus actually spoke in the Gospel of Matthew about this when he condemned the hypocrisy of religious leaders who say one thing and do another. He called them all sorts of terrible things — brood of vipers and all sorts of terrible names.
But here's the thing. It's not just church leaders. It's people in my position. And infamous Bible characters like Ananias and Sapphira whose hypocrisy has the potential to damage the reputation of Jesus. Because the hypocrisy of anyone who follows Christ can call into question the genuineness of our faith in the eyes of others. Which means those of us who follow Jesus need to take this very seriously, as uncomfortable as it might be, because our propensity for hypocrisy has the capacity to impact how others respond to the good news of Jesus.
Hypocrisy as Spiritual Anxiety
That's part of the reason we should be taking hypocrisy seriously. But there's an even deeper reason why hypocrisy is such a significant spiritual issue.
In our story, Peter didn't rebuke Ananias for holding back money. Did you notice that? That wasn't the issue. The issue wasn't that Ananias kept some of the money for himself per se. He was rebuked for lying to the Holy Spirit. The issue wasn't a lack of generosity — it was deceit. It was wanting to appear fully surrendered while keeping control. Ananias and Sapphira both wanted God's approval and they wanted people's praise. And beneath their apparent generosity was this need to be seen and to be well thought of.
And I think if we're honest with ourselves, we all at times feel that tension — to project an image that hides the truth, to prove not just to others and to God, but to ourselves, that we're okay, that we have it all together, through being good enough, generous enough, pretty enough, brave enough, conservative enough, liberal enough — fill in the blank enough.
But why? Why are we driven to be that way? I suspect it's because hypocrisy is actually an expression of a deep-rooted anxiety. Because spiritually speaking, hypocrisy flows out of an anxious heart. And an anxious heart flows out of the subconscious belief that our worth in life relies solely on us and our efforts. Essentially what anxiety boils down to, from a spiritual perspective, is a lack of trust in God. Trust that God loves you for who you are, not for who you pretend to be or for what you achieve in life.
The average Anglican minister — someone doing what I do — lasts about five years before they drop out of ministry. And one of the biggest reasons a lot of them drop out is that they feel like they are a failure and they can't live up to the standards that God wants of them. Now, at one level, that's understandable — they have a high view of the calling. But it also shows, I think, to a degree, an element of losing sight of the fact that we do not earn our worth in God's eyes.
And that is why hypocrisy is such a serious spiritual issue — because the manifestation of spiritual anxiety is the practical outcome of not fully trusting God.
The Good News as the Cure for Hypocrisy
And yet the great news is that we can trust God, can't we? We can trust God because he has proven his love and his faithfulness to you and me through the death and the resurrection of Jesus. As Paul, a leader in the early church, reminds us: while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. His point being that before we cleaned ourselves up, before we believed, before we ever did a single thing to earn God's love, God acted. God reached out. And that's what the cross of Jesus shows us — that God's love for us is not conditional on our performance.
Hypocrisy pretends to be righteous in order to be loved — by others, by God, and even by ourselves. Whereas the good news of Jesus is that we are already loved for who we are, and so we can be honest — not just with others, but with ourselves — about who we truly are.
And so when you feel that anxiety telling you that you need to prove your worth, remember that God proved his love for you first through the cross. Because at the cross, God didn't just say that he loves us — he showed it in the most powerful way possible. The death and the resurrection of Jesus is the ultimate proof that God is for us and that he is good. And that's why we can trust him completely.
How to Trust God: Seeking His Kingdom
So it follows that if we want to be less hypocritical, if we want to be less spiritually anxious, we need to learn how to trust God. Now, that's a super easy thing to say, but how do we do that? How do we learn to trust God?
Luckily for us, Jesus gave us the key. Jesus gave us something called the Sermon on the Mount — chapters 5 through 7 of the Gospel of Matthew — and he said this: seek first God's kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well.
Jesus spoke those words in the middle of his teaching about anxiety — about being anxious for things like food, clothing, and what's going to happen tomorrow. He knew just how easily our hearts get tangled up in fear and uncertainty. But Jesus' instruction to seek first his kingdom is not a commandment to simply strive harder. It's an encouragement to intentionally pursue the things that matter to God. Because as you do so — as you intentionally pursue the things that matter to God — you'll find your heart becomes increasingly aligned with his.
As Augustine, an early Christian leader in North Africa, once said: "Our hearts are restless until they rest in you, O God." His point being that a heart that rests in God is a heart that trusts God. And a heart that trusts God is a heart that is free of the tyranny of anxiety. Trusting God is the antidote to spiritual anxiety, and therein to hypocrisy.
So to bring it all together: if you want to be free of hypocrisy, learn to trust God. Trust that God loves you for who you are, not for who you pretend to be or for what you achieve. Because the good news of Jesus is the only true cure for hypocrisy, because it cuts to the heart of the human condition.
So stop pretending. Trust God. Simple as that.
If you want to start tearing your heart away from the anxiety that fuels our hypocrisy, you can do that by seeking God — by spending time in his presence, studying scripture, embedding yourself into a faith community, and prioritising the things that matter to God. Because to quote Jesus: where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. And a heart that trusts God will find rest. It will be free from anxiety and the need to pretend, and it will become free from hypocrisy.
So that's all I've got for today. Trust God, be free from anxiety, and that in turn will help alleviate our hypocrisy.