From Abel to Zechariah (23:29–36)
The Hebrew Bible doesn’t end with Malachi. In the Jewish canonical order, the Ketuvim (the Writings) concludes with 2 Chronicles. That order is important for what Jesus says in v. 35.
The woe in verse 29 begins with an accusation that, on the surface, appears to be misplaced praise. The scribes and Pharisees build tombs for the prophets and decorate the monuments of the righteous. They claim that if they had lived in their ancestors’ time, they would not have shed the prophets’ blood. Jesus turns their own words against them.
“Thus you witness against yourselves that you are sons of those who murdered the prophets. Fill up, then, the measure of your fathers” (23:31–32).
The verb πληρόω (plēroō), which is usually translated as “fulfill,” is correctly rendered here as “fill up.” I’ve previously discussed Jesus “filling full” the OT. Now it’s the scribes’ and the Pharisees’ turn. They also have a role in the story to “fill up” or “fill full” as well.
The indictment then reaches its full scope:
“...so that on you may come all the righteous blood shed on earth, from the blood of righteous Abel to the blood of Zechariah the son of Barachiah, whom you murdered between the sanctuary and the altar” (23:35).
Abel’s blood is the first in Scripture crying out for justice. When Cain killed his brother, Yahweh told him:
“The voice of your brother’s blood is crying to me from the ground” (Gen 4:10).
Innocent blood does not simply disappear. It calls out to God for justice.
Zechariah marks the other end of the span. The Zechariah killed between the sanctuary and the altar is almost certainly the one described in 2 Chronicles 24:20–21: a priest who stood in the court of the temple and rebuked Israel for forsaking Yahweh, only to be stoned at the king’s command in that same court. His dying words were:
“May the LORD see and avenge!” (2 Chr 24:22).
Again, Righteous blood, once shed, does not go silent. (That’s a sobering thought for another time.)
Since Chronicles closes the Hebrew canon, “from Abel to Zechariah” covers the entire biblical story. Jesus is making a canonical point: the history of Scripture, from beginning to end, is about those who spoke for God being silenced by those claiming to represent him. The scribes and Pharisees standing before him bring that history to its tragic climax.
Every generation honors the prophets it did not have to live with. We build memorials to voices we would have rejected at the moment. The question Matthew 23 raises is not whether we venerate the prophets of the past, but whether we are willing to hear the living Word that challenges us now.
When Yahweh Returns to His Temple (23:1–39)
Israel’s prophets promised that Yahweh would one day return to Zion. Malachi envisioned the Lord suddenly coming to his temple, but warned that his arrival would bring judgment:
“Who can endure the day of his coming, and who can stand when he appears?” (Mal 3:2).
Ezekiel foresaw the glory of the Lord returning to a purified temple (Ezek 43:1-5). The hope sustained Israel through exile and occupation. One day, God would come back to his city and his house.
Matthew presents Jesus as the fulfillment of this hope, but the homecoming is not what Israel’s leaders expected. Yahweh has returned to Zion, entered his temple, and now renders his verdict. Matthew 23 records the divine audit. The seven woes against the scribes and Pharisees echo the covenant curse formulas of Deuteronomy 28 and later prophetic indictments. Jesus speaks with authority that transcends even Moses. He prosecutes those who were supposed to shepherd his people.
The charges are devastating. The religious leaders shut the kingdom of heaven in people’s faces (Matt 23:13). They strain out gnats while swallowing camels (23:24). They clean the outside of the cup while remaining full of greed and self-indulgence (23:25). They are whitewashed tombs, beautiful on the exterior but full of dead bones within (23:27). These are not merely ethical failures. They represent a fundamental betrayal of Israel’s covenant calling.
What makes this passage uniquely powerful is how the divine prosecutor’s voice breaks with grief.
“O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often would I have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!” (23:37).
Yahweh himself laments over his beloved city. The maternal imagery reveals the depth of divine longing. God came to gather his people, but they refused his embrace.
The pronouncement that follows is therefore both judgment and heartbreak.
“See, your house is left to you desolate” (23:38).
The house is the temple, the dwelling place God chose for his name. But now the Lord who has returned to his house will depart from it. The glory is leaving, echoing Ezekiel’s vision of God’s presence abandoning the first temple before its destruction (Ezek 10–11). Jesus then quotes Psalm 118:26:
“You will not see me again, until you say, ‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord’” (Matt 23:39).
The crowds shouted these words at his triumphal entry (21:9), but now they point to a future moment of judgment when all will acknowledge who he truly is.
His departure sets the stage for Matthew 24. As Jesus leaves the temple, his disciples marvel at the buildings. His response confirms what the lament implied:
“There will not be left here one stone upon another that will not be thrown down” (Matt. 24:2).
Yahweh returned to Zion, found it wanting, and now withdraws his presence again. The consequences will be catastrophic.