Catholic Commentary
The Crowd's Astonishment — Jesus Teaches with Authority
28When Jesus had finished saying these things, the multitudes were astonished at his teaching,29for he taught them with authority, and not like the scribes.
Matthew 7:28–29 describes the crowd's astonishment at Jesus' teaching authority, which surpassed that of the scribes who merely cited prior tradition. Jesus taught with inherent authority rooted in his own person, not delegated from external sources, fulfilling the Old Testament promise of a prophet like Moses who would speak God's words with ultimate force.
Jesus teaches in his own name, not in the name of another—a claim so radical that the crowds weren't merely impressed, they were shaken.
Typological and Spiritual Senses
Typologically, the scene echoes and completes Deuteronomy 18:15–18, where Moses promises that God will raise up a prophet "like me," whose words the people must obey. The crowd's astonishment is the recognition — not yet fully articulated — that this promise has been fulfilled. Jesus is the Prophet who speaks not merely words given to him from outside, but the Word that he himself is (Jn 1:1).
In the moral sense, Matthew places these verses as a hinge between the Sermon and Jesus' subsequent acts of healing (ch. 8–9), suggesting that authentic authority is verified not only in word but in deed — a pattern the Church has always understood to govern both Scripture and Tradition together.
Catholic tradition reads these two verses as a compressed Christological statement of the highest order. The contrast between Jesus and the scribes is not a contrast between two kinds of teachers; it is a contrast between the creature and the Creator, between commentary and the Text itself.
St. John Chrysostom, in his Homilies on Matthew (Homily 25), writes that the authority of Christ is demonstrated precisely because he legislates — he does not merely interpret. "He did not say, 'Thus says the Lord,' as the prophets did, but 'I say to you,' showing himself to be Lord of the prophets." This patristic observation is pivotal: the scribes' authority was derivative; Christ's authority is ontological.
The First Vatican Council's Dei Filius (1870) affirmed that divine revelation includes not only what is written but what has been handed on, and that the Church's Magisterium participates in Christ's own teaching authority (exousia) — not as a new source, but as the ongoing voice of the same authoritative Teacher. This is why the Church does not merely "advise" on faith and morals; she teaches, as Christ taught, with binding authority (cf. CCC 85–87).
St. Thomas Aquinas in the Summa Theologiae (III, q. 7, a. 7) notes that Christ's authority as Teacher flows from the fullness of grace and wisdom in his human intellect united to the divine Person. He does not learn; he illuminates. His teaching does not derive from study but from identity.
Pope Benedict XVI, in Jesus of Nazareth (Vol. 1), reflects on this same passage: the "I" who speaks in the Sermon on the Mount "can only be the one who is himself the living Torah." This insight binds the exousia of Matthew 7:29 directly to the prologue of John: the Word made flesh does not merely carry revelation — he is revelation (CCC 65–66).
In an age when authority is routinely dismissed as power-grabbing or culturally conditioned, these verses offer a radical counter-witness: there is a voice that carries authority not because of institutional position, but because of who is speaking. For the contemporary Catholic, this has at least three concrete implications.
First, it challenges how we read Scripture. The Catholic is not reading an ancient document whose authority must be reconstructed by historians; she is listening to the living voice of the One who spoke at Sinai, at the Sermon, and who speaks still through the Church. The astonishment of the crowd is an invitation to recover that sense of genuine encounter — not familiarity — with the Word.
Second, in a culture saturated with competing voices, competing "truths," and endless expert opinion, the Catholic is called to cultivate the spiritual habit of recognizing which voice carries exousia. This means distinguishing between the Church's authoritative Magisterium and mere theological opinion, between the voice of Christ in Scripture and the ambient noise of culturally accommodated Christianity.
Third, for Catholics who teach — parents, catechists, priests, teachers — these verses are both a commission and a humility check. We do not teach in our own names. We are scribes. But we serve the One who does not need to cite another, and that changes everything about how we speak, and how we should listen.
Commentary
Matthew 7:28 — "When Jesus had finished saying these things, the multitudes were astonished at his teaching"
The Greek verb translated "astonished" (ἐξεπλήσσοντο, exepléssonto) is strikingly strong — it literally means "to be struck out of oneself," to be overwhelmed to the point of displacement. Matthew uses this same verb in 13:54 and 22:33, always as a response to Jesus' teaching, and Mark uses it at the conclusion of the synagogue encounter in Capernaum (1:22). It is not mere applause or appreciation; it is something closer to shock, the sensation of encountering a reality one was not prepared for.
Note also Matthew's framing phrase: "when Jesus had finished saying these things." This formula appears five times in Matthew (7:28; 11:1; 13:53; 19:1; 26:1), marking the close of each of Jesus' five great discourses. Scholars widely recognize this as a deliberate Mosaic typology: just as the Torah is structured around five books given through Moses, Matthew structures his Gospel around five great speeches given through the new and greater Moses. The crowd's astonishment at the end of the first discourse thus mirrors — and supersedes — Israel's awe at Sinai.
Matthew 7:29 — "For he taught them with authority, and not like the scribes"
The contrast here is everything. The scribes (grammateis) were the professional interpreters of the Torah. Their method was fundamentally citational: they taught by invoking chains of prior authority — "Rabbi Hillel said... Rabbi Shammai taught... it is written..." Their legitimacy derived entirely from their position within an interpretive tradition. They were, in the fullest sense, transmitters.
Jesus is something categorically different. Throughout the Sermon on the Mount, he has spoken in the first person singular with a formula entirely without Jewish precedent: "You have heard it said... but I say to you" (Mt 5:21–22, 27–28, 31–32, 33–34, 38–39, 43–44). No prophet said "I say to you" — prophets said "Thus says the Lord." No scribe said it. No rabbi said it. Jesus does not quote a higher authority; he is the higher authority.
The Greek word for authority here is ἐξουσία (exousia) — a word combining "out of" (ex) and "being" (ousia), suggesting authority that flows from one's very substance or essence. This is not delegated authority, not borrowed authority. It is intrinsic. The Catechism of the Catholic Church recognizes this implicitly when it states that Jesus, in the Sermon on the Mount, "does not abolish the Law but fulfills it by giving it its definitive interpretation" (CCC 577). He can do this because he is its author.