Matthew 6:17

Berean Standard Bible

But when you fast, anoint your head and wash your face,

------------------------------------

Matthew 6:17, nestled within the Sermon on the Mount, reads in the New International Version: "But when you fast, put oil on your head and wash your face." This verse, though brief, carries profound spiritual and practical weight, serving as a pivotal instruction in Jesus' broader teaching on fasting, prayer, and authentic piety. To unpack its meaning, we must consider its immediate context within Matthew 6, its cultural and historical backdrop, and its enduring theological significance for both the original audience and contemporary readers.

The verse appears in a section where Jesus addresses the practice of fasting, a spiritual discipline deeply rooted in Jewish tradition. In Matthew 6:16-18, Jesus critiques the hypocritical fasting of certain religious leaders who make a public spectacle of their piety, disfiguring their faces to broadcast their devotion. By contrast, Jesus instructs his followers to fast discreetly, with an outward appearance that belies their inner discipline. The directive to "put oil on your head and wash your face" is not merely cosmetic advice but a deliberate call to reorient the heart toward genuine communion with God, free from the desire for human approval.

In the first-century Jewish context, fasting was a common practice, often associated with repentance, mourning, or seeking divine guidance. It was not uncommon for individuals to visibly signal their fast through unkempt appearances—ashes on the head, torn clothing, or a generally disheveled look. Such displays could garner respect or sympathy, reinforcing one's reputation as devout. However, Jesus challenges this cultural norm, urging his disciples to maintain their usual grooming habits. Anointing the head with oil and washing the face were ordinary acts of personal care in a hot, dusty climate, where olive oil was used to moisturize the skin and hair, and washing was a daily necessity. By instructing his followers to maintain these routines, Jesus emphasizes that fasting should not be a performance for others but a private act of devotion directed toward God alone.

The phrase "put oil on your head" carries symbolic resonance as well. In the Old Testament, anointing with oil often signified consecration, joy, or divine favor, as seen in passages like Psalm 23:5 ("You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows"). By invoking this imagery, Jesus may be suggesting that fasting, when done with the right heart, is not merely an act of self-denial but a sacred offering that aligns the believer with God's purposes. Washing the face further reinforces this idea, symbolizing purity and renewal. Together, these actions point to an inner transformation that remains hidden from the world but is fully seen by God, who, as Jesus notes in verse 18, "sees what is done in secret" and rewards accordingly.

This teaching fits seamlessly into the broader themes of Matthew 6, where Jesus repeatedly contrasts outward religiosity with inward authenticity. Earlier in the chapter, he addresses giving to the needy (6:2-4) and prayer (6:5-15), using similar language to critique hypocrisy and commend sincerity. The repetition of "when you" in these passages—when you give, when you pray, when you fast—implies an expectation that these practices are normative for disciples, but their value lies in their motivation. Jesus is less concerned with the mechanics of fasting than with the posture of the heart. The instruction to anoint and wash is thus a practical outworking of this principle: disciples are to live as if their audience is God alone, not their peers.

Theologically, Matthew 6:17 underscores the tension between the seen and the unseen, a recurring motif in Jesus' teaching. The Kingdom of God, as Jesus presents it, inverts worldly values. Where human culture prizes visibility, status, and recognition, Jesus calls his followers to a hidden righteousness that seeks only the Father's approval. This is not to say that public expressions of faith are inherently wrong, but they must flow from a genuine inner reality rather than a desire for acclaim. Fasting, in this sense, becomes a microcosm of the Christian life—a discipline that trains the believer to prioritize God's gaze over human opinion.

For the original audience, this teaching would have been both challenging and liberating. The religious landscape of first-century Judaism was heavily influenced by the Pharisees and other groups who emphasized strict adherence to the Law, often accompanied by visible piety. Jesus' words would have confronted those who used fasting as a badge of spiritual superiority while offering freedom to those burdened by the pressure to perform. By instructing his followers to fast discreetly, Jesus liberates them from the need to prove their devotion to others, inviting them into a more intimate, unencumbered relationship with God.

For modern readers, Matthew 6:17 remains strikingly relevant. In an age dominated by social media and performative virtue, the temptation to broadcast one's spirituality—or any good deed—has only intensified. The pressure to curate an image of righteousness, whether through public displays of charity, prayer, or even fasting, mirrors the hypocrisy Jesus critiques. His call to anoint the head and wash the face challenges believers to examine their motives: Are we seeking to impress others, or are we pursuing a deeper connection with God? This verse invites reflection on how we practice spiritual disciplines, whether fasting, prayer, or service, and whether those practices draw us closer to God or merely enhance our reputation.

Moreover, the verse speaks to the transformative power of simplicity. The acts of anointing and washing are mundane, everyday tasks, yet Jesus imbues them with spiritual significance. This suggests that the Christian life is not reserved for grand gestures or dramatic moments but is lived out in the ordinary rhythms of daily existence. Fasting, when done in secret, becomes a quiet act of trust in God's sufficiency, a reminder that our deepest needs are met not by human approval but by divine grace.

In a broader sense, Matthew 6:17 invites us to consider the nature of reward. Jesus promises that the Father, who sees in secret, will reward those who fast with pure motives. The nature of this reward is not explicitly defined, but it aligns with the Sermon on the Mount's emphasis on eternal, rather than temporal, treasures (Matthew 6:19-21). The reward may be the deepening of one's relationship with God, the growth of character, or the assurance of God's presence. Unlike the fleeting applause of human praise, this reward is lasting and rooted in the unchanging character of God.

Ultimately, Matthew 6:17 is a call to authenticity, simplicity, and trust. It challenges believers to strip away the layers of performance that so easily entangle us and to approach God with a heart laid bare. By anointing their heads and washing their faces, Jesus' followers are to embody a faith that is vibrant yet unpretentious, disciplined yet joyful, hidden yet profoundly seen. This verse, though brief, encapsulates the essence of the Sermon on the Mount: a life of radical devotion to God, lived not for the eyes of the world but for the heart of the Father.

-----------------------------------

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ, who gave himself for our sins to deliver us from this present age, according to the will of our God and Father, to whom be glory forever and ever. Amen. I write to you, my brothers and sisters, as one compelled by the Spirit to exhort and encourage you in the way of our Savior, whose words pierce the heart and illuminate the path of righteousness. Today, I turn your hearts to the words of our Lord recorded in the Gospel of Matthew, chapter six, verse seventeen, where he declares, “But when you fast, put oil on your head and wash your face.” These words, though few, are a clarion call to a faith that is pure, unfeigned, and wholly devoted to the God who sees in secret. Let us, therefore, plumb the depths of this teaching, that we may walk worthy of the calling to which we have been called.

Consider, beloved, the context of our Lord’s instruction. In the Sermon on the Mount, Christ unveils the righteousness of the kingdom, a righteousness that surpasses the outward displays of the religious elite and penetrates the heart. He speaks of giving, of prayer, and of fasting—acts of devotion that, when twisted by human pride, become mere performances for the applause of men. Yet our Lord, in his infinite wisdom, calls us to a higher way. When you fast, he says, do not disfigure your face as the hypocrites do, seeking the fleeting praise of others. Instead, anoint your head with oil and wash your face, that your fasting may be a sacred offering to the Father, who alone sees the hidden things and rewards according to his good pleasure. This is no mere instruction about grooming, but a divine summons to a life of authenticity, where our devotion is not a spectacle for the world but a sweet aroma to God.

Let us reflect deeply on this, my friends. In the days of our Lord’s earthly ministry, fasting was a hallmark of piety among the Jews, a discipline woven into the fabric of their covenant with God. Yet, as is the way of fallen humanity, what was meant to draw the soul nearer to God became, for some, a stage for self-exaltation. The Pharisees and others, with somber faces and disheveled appearances, paraded their fasting as a badge of spiritual superiority. But Christ, who sees the heart, exposed their hypocrisy and called his disciples to a different path. To anoint the head with oil and wash the face is to embrace the ordinary rhythms of life, even in the midst of sacred discipline. It is to say, with our actions, that our fasting is not for the eyes of others but for the gaze of the One who knit us together in our mother’s womb.

What, then, does this mean for us, who live in an age far removed from the dusty roads of Galilee yet no less prone to the temptations of pride? We dwell in a world captivated by appearances, where the curated image reigns supreme, and the pressure to perform righteousness is ever-present. Whether through the public square of social media or the subtler arenas of our communities, we are tempted to broadcast our devotion, to seek the likes and affirmations of others as the measure of our faith. But hear the words of Christ afresh: when you fast, when you pray, when you give, do so in secret, for the Father who sees in secret will reward you. The anointing of oil and the washing of the face are not mere acts of personal care but symbols of a heart that seeks God alone, unencumbered by the need for human approval.

Beloved, let us consider the theological weight of this teaching. Our Lord’s command points us to the unseen realm, where true righteousness resides. The kingdom of God is not a kingdom of spectacle but of substance, not a theater of performance but a sanctuary of intimacy with the Father. When we fast, we deny ourselves not to earn God’s favor—for Christ has secured that favor through his perfect life and atoning death—but to align our hearts with his purposes. The oil on our heads recalls the anointing of the Spirit, who consecrates us as a holy priesthood, called to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ. The washing of our faces echoes the cleansing of our sins, accomplished once for all by the blood of the Lamb, yet daily renewed as we walk in repentance and faith. In fasting, we declare that our deepest hunger is for God himself, and in doing so discreetly, we testify that his approval is our greatest treasure.

I urge you, therefore, brothers and sisters, to apply this truth to your lives with all diligence. Examine your hearts, as I examine mine, and ask: For whom do I fast? For whom do I pray? For whom do I serve? If our acts of devotion are tinged with the desire for recognition, let us repent and return to the simplicity of Christ’s command. When you fast, whether from food or from the distractions of this age, do so with joy, as one anointed by the Spirit. Let your outward appearance reflect the peace of Christ, not the somberness of self-righteousness. In a world that clamors for attention, choose the quiet path of hidden devotion. In your workplace, in your homes, in your churches, let your faith be a flame that burns brightly before God, even if it goes unseen by others.

Moreover, let this teaching shape not only your fasting but the whole of your Christian walk. The principle of Matthew 6:17 extends beyond the act of fasting to every expression of your faith. When you serve the poor, do so without fanfare, trusting that the Father sees. When you pray, whether in your closet or in the assembly of the saints, let your words rise as incense to God, not as a performance for others. When you suffer, bear it with the dignity of one who knows that the Father’s reward far outweighs the fleeting comforts of this world. In all things, let your life be a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God, offered not for the praise of men but for the glory of the One who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light.

I am mindful, dear friends, that this call to hidden righteousness is not without its challenges. The flesh wars against the Spirit, and the world tempts us with its applause. Yet take heart, for Christ himself has walked this path before us. He fasted in the wilderness, not for the eyes of men but in obedience to the Father. He endured the cross, despising its shame, for the joy set before him. And now, seated at the right hand of God, he intercedes for us, that we might walk in the power of his resurrection. By his grace, we are not left to our own strength but are empowered by the Spirit who dwells within us. Let us, therefore, press on, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith.

As I close, I pray that you may know the surpassing worth of seeking the Father in secret. May your fasting, your prayers, and your service be a sweet offering to him who sees all things. May you find your reward not in the fleeting praise of this world but in the eternal embrace of the Father, who delights in his children. And may the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all, now and forevermore. Amen.

----------------------------------

O Eternal and Most Gracious Father, You who dwell in unapproachable light yet draw near to the humble, we come before You with hearts laid bare, seeking Your face in the secret place of devotion, as Your Son, our Savior Jesus Christ, has taught us. We stand in awe of Your holiness, O God, for You are the One who sees what is done in secret, who knows the depths of our souls, and who rewards according to Your boundless mercy. We lift our voices in prayer, inspired by the words of Your Son in the sixth chapter of Matthew’s Gospel, where He calls us to fast with anointed heads and washed faces, not for the eyes of men but for the glory of Your name. Hear us, O Lord, as we pour out our hearts, seeking to walk in the hidden righteousness of Your kingdom.

You, O God, are the fountain of all life, the source of every good and perfect gift. In Your wisdom, You have called us to disciplines of devotion—not to earn Your favor, for that has been secured through the precious blood of Christ, but to draw us nearer to Your heart. When Your Son spoke of fasting, He unveiled a path of intimacy, a way to strip away the distractions of this world and hunger for You alone. We confess, O Father, that too often we have sought the approval of others, adorning our acts of faith with the trappings of pride, craving the fleeting praise of men rather than the eternal reward of Your presence. Forgive us, we pray, for the times we have disfigured our faces, whether in fasting or in service, to gain the admiration of this age. Cleanse us by Your Spirit, and renew in us a heart that seeks You alone.

We thank You, Lord, for the simplicity of Your Son’s command—to anoint our heads with oil and wash our faces as we fast. In these ordinary acts, You teach us that true devotion is not a spectacle but a sacred offering, hidden from the world yet radiant before Your throne. The oil reminds us of Your Spirit, who anoints us as Your chosen people, a royal priesthood set apart to proclaim Your excellencies. The washing of our faces recalls the cleansing of our sins, accomplished once for all by the sacrifice of Jesus, yet daily renewed as we walk in repentance and faith. O God, how marvelous is Your design, that even in our fasting we are called to joy, to bear the countenance of those who are redeemed, not by our works but by the finished work of Christ.

We pray, O Father, for Your church scattered across the earth, that we may embody the hidden righteousness to which Your Son calls us. In a world captivated by appearances, where the temptation to perform our faith for the sake of recognition is ever-present, grant us the grace to live for Your eyes alone. When we fast, whether from food, from distraction, or from the idols of our age, let it be an act of worship, a declaration that You are our deepest longing and our greatest treasure. Help us to anoint our heads with the oil of gladness, to wash our faces with the purity of Your truth, and to approach You in secret, trusting that You see and reward according to Your perfect will.

Teach us, O Lord, to carry this spirit of hidden devotion into every corner of our lives. May our prayers rise to You as incense, offered not for the applause of others but as a fragrant offering to Your name. May our service to the poor, our love for our neighbors, and our pursuit of justice flow from hearts attuned to Your kingdom, seeking no reward but the joy of knowing You. In our workplaces, our homes, and our communities, let us live as those who are seen by You, bearing the light of Christ in the ordinary moments of life. When we face trials, when we bear the weight of this fallen world, let us do so with the dignity of those who know that our labor in the Lord is not in vain.

We lift before You those among us who are weary, who fast in sorrow or seek You in desperation. Comfort them, O God, with the assurance that You see their tears, that You hear their cries, and that Your reward is greater than the fleeting comforts of this world. For those who are tempted to parade their piety, grant humility, that they may learn the beauty of serving You in secret. For those who feel unseen, unnoticed in their devotion, remind them that Your eyes are upon them, and Your love is their eternal inheritance. And for those who have yet to know the grace of Your Son, draw them by Your Spirit, that they may taste and see that You are good.

O God, we long for the day when we shall see You face to face, when the hidden things will be brought to light, and the righteousness of Your kingdom will shine like the noonday sun. Until that day, keep us steadfast in the way of Your Son, who fasted in the wilderness, who prayed in the garden, and who gave Himself for us on the cross. By His grace, we are Yours, and in His strength, we offer our lives as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to You. May our fasting, our prayers, and our every act of devotion be a testament to Your glory, a reflection of Your love, and a foretaste of the joy that awaits us in Your presence.

We pray all these things in the name of Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior, who lives and reigns with You and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen.