Be Careful Which Way You Lean (Matthew 7:24–27)

Dr. Seuss, in his environmental tale The Lorax, posed a simple yet profound question: “Which way does a tree fall?” The answer is equally simple: “A tree falls the way it leans.” This children’s story contains a powerful spiritual truth: We must be careful which way we lean.

This raises a critical question for our lives: Which way is your life leaning? Not physically, but spiritually, emotionally, and directionally. Consider your habits and hopes, your decisions and desires, your relationships and even your private thoughts. Which way are you leaning?

The reality is stark: The way you lean will determine the way you fall. Over time, your lean becomes your trajectory, and your trajectory becomes your legacy. Consider how a single degree of deviation, insignificant at first, becomes a massive void over distance.

The Leaning Tower of Pisa illustrates this principle wonderfully. Famous not for its architecture but for its lean, the tower began tilting almost immediately after construction began in the twelfth century. Why? Because its foundations were only three meters deep, built on soft, unstable ground composed of clay, sand, and silt. Initially appearing fine, the structure began to shift as layer upon layer was added. The weight became too much, and the tower started to lean—slowly at first, then noticeably, and eventually dangerously. Millions have been spent attempting to correct it, but it still leans today because the foundation was never right from the beginning.

Our lives are leaning too. Whether we realise it or not, we are building our lives day by day, decision by decision. That building—your character, your faith, your future—is resting on something. It rests either on solid rock or on sinking sand. Eventually, the weight of life will come: disappointment, suffering, temptation. When that storm hits, you will fall in the direction you have been leaning all along.

Jesus understood this reality. That is why he did not conclude the Sermon on the Mount with comfort or blessing, but with a warning—a parable presenting a choice. In this parable, we encounter two builders, two foundations, one storm, and only one house left standing.

To understand Jesus’ closing words in the Sermon on the Mount, we must return to how it began. In Matthew 5:20, Jesus declared: “For I tell you, unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”

This would have shocked the original listeners. The scribes and Pharisees were regarded as the most religious, disciplined, and spiritually elite. If they did not qualify for the kingdom, who could possibly measure up?

Jesus was not raising the standard here—he was redefining it. The Pharisees measured righteousness externally: following rules, managing appearances, keeping the law on the surface. But Jesus taught that righteousness begins internally, with the heart, and works its way outward. It is not about religious performance but about a genuine relationship with the Father and living out that relationship as citizens of his kingdom.

Throughout the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus revealed what this kingdom looks like. We are not merely to avoid murder but to confront anger and contempt. We are not only to avoid adultery but to address the lustful heart. We are not simply to love our neighbour but to love our enemies and pray for them. We are not to give, fast, and pray for show like the Pharisees, but to do these things in secret for God’s eyes alone.

Jesus was peeling back the layers, showing what kingdom living truly looks like. It is about the heart, the motivation, our core.

By the end of Matthew 7, Jesus brings everything together with a final image: two builders, two houses, one storm. The key difference is the foundation. Essentially, Jesus is saying: “You have heard my words. Now you are confronted with a choice. Will you build on them?”

Hearing is not enough. Agreement is not obedience. Admiring Jesus is not the same as trusting Jesus. Everyone builds on something—everyone leans on something. But Jesus makes it clear that only those who hear and do what he says are building on solid rock.

You can attend church, know the right words, and even appreciate Jesus’ teaching, but you can still be a fool in God’s eyes if you do not obey him. The wise builders did not just listen—they leaned. They trusted Jesus enough to obey him, not perfectly, but purposefully.

Storms will inevitably come. James 1:2 says, “Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds.” The same chapter instructs: “But be doers of the word, and not hearers only” (James 1:22). Storms reveal what we are leaning on—not how impressive the house appears, but how deep the foundations run.

One of the most sobering aspects of Jesus’ parable is that the two builders do not look very different on the surface, at least initially. They both hear Jesus’ words. They both build a house. They both endure the same storm. From the outside, they appear almost identical—spiritual twins.

In our context, these builders might attend the same church, read the same Bible, listen to the same sermons, and sing the same songs. Same blueprint, same materials, same conditions. But Jesus does not draw our attention to what is above the surface—he focuses on what lies beneath it.

When the storm comes, the results are different. The difference was not the house; the difference was the foundation. One builder dug deep and built on rock. The other cut corners and built on sand.

Here is the reality: You can build a life that looks solid on the outside and still be leaning in the wrong direction. Leaning in the wrong direction might involve building on the approval of others, your own morality and self-righteousness, cultural Christianity, religious habits and routines. Perhaps you grew up in church and find security in comfort, control, your job, family, friends, health, or finances. The list continues. There are many ways to lean wrong, but only one way to lean right.

When pressure comes—and it will—the storm does not merely threaten the surface; it tests the foundations. This is why the prophet Isaiah pointed to the one true foundation: “Therefore thus says the Lord GOD, ‘Behold, I am the one who has laid as a foundation in Zion, a stone, a tested stone, a precious cornerstone, of a sure foundation’” (Isaiah 28:16). That cornerstone, that sure foundation, is Jesus Christ. Paul affirms this in 1 Corinthians 3:11: “For no one can lay a foundation other than that which is laid, which is Jesus Christ.”

Let me ask again: What are you really building your life on? What are you leaning on? Is it your reputation, your achievements, your comforts, your ability to cope? Or is it Jesus? People might consider you a wise builder based on external appearances, but only those who hear and do Jesus’ words—who trust and obey—are building on the rock. In the end, the test of your life will not be how things looked in the sunshine but whether you are still standing after the storm.

Jesus’ parable is not primarily about construction but about crisis and storms. The sobering truth is that the storm comes for both houses, not just for the foolish or disobedient. Everyone faces storms. They may not come today, but they will come, because storms are not hypothetical possibilities—they are inevitable.

There are at least two kinds of storms in Jesus’ mind in this parable.

The first storm is the storm of life—trials we face because we live in a broken world filled with suffering and sorrow. Here is a crucial truth: Trials do not create your foundations; they reveal them. They expose what you have really been trusting when dark and difficult times arrive—that dreaded phone call in the middle of the night, an unexpected diagnosis, a child walking away from faith, waves of grief, burnout, and betrayal.

In those testing moments, you will quickly discover what you have been leaning on. What is your foundation? If you have built on control, anxiety will flood you. If you have built on approval, rejection will shake you to your core. If you have built on comfort, suffering will disorient you. But if you have built your life on Christ, the rock, you might bend and experience the storm, but you will never break.

The prophet Jeremiah provides a vivid image of what building on Christ looks like: “Blessed is the man who trusts in the LORD, whose trust is the LORD. He is like a tree planted by water, that sends out its roots by the stream, and does not fear when heat comes, for its leaves remain green, and is not anxious in the year of drought, for it does not cease to bear fruit” (Jeremiah 17:7-8).

Notice that the tree still faces heat and drought—it still faces the storm—but it is not anxious. It does not wither or break. It does not merely survive; it flourishes. Why? Because its roots run deep. That is what it means to build or lean your life on Christ.

The Storm of Judgement

The second storm is that of God’s final judgement. Jesus points to something beyond the trials of the here and now. Do not miss the seriousness of Jesus’ concluding remarks in this parable: “and it fell, and great was its fall.” The original word for “great” implies total devastation. This is not a minor setback or someone having a bad day—it is total, eternal ruin.

Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 3:13 that “each one’s work will become manifest, for the Day will disclose it, because it will be revealed by fire, and the fire will test what sort of work each one has done.” It will test what your foundations rest upon. It will test which way you have been leaning.

That day is coming. On that day, no facade or pretence will hold. God will not ask: “Did you attend church? Did you sound spiritual? Did others admire you?” Instead, he will ask simply: “Did you hear my words and build on them?”

This is not about how much you admire Jesus or whether you like his teaching. It is about whether you trusted him, obeyed him, and built your life on him.

These sobering truths should invoke at least three responses.

First, take Jesus Seriously. Jesus ends the sermon with confrontation, not comfort. This is not advice—it is a divine warning. Your life will be tested by what you trust. As Proverbs 3:5 instructs: “Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding.” The question is not whether you are leaning, but what are you leaning on? Are you leaning on your own wisdom, strength, or comfort, or are you leaning your full weight on Christ?

Second, don’t confuse appearances with foundations. The house on sand may have looked stable until the storm came. Our culture celebrates image over substance more than ever, and social media excels at this deception. But God examines the heart. As the Lord told Samuel: “For the LORD sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the LORD looks on the heart” (1 Samuel 16:7). He tests your foundations. Do not merely ask, how do I look? Go deeper. Ask, what am I truly leaning on?

Third, let the warning drive you to grace. Jesus did not tell this parable to scare or shame you—he told it to save you. The same Jesus who warns of judgement is the one who bore that judgement for us on the cross. As Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 5:21: “For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.” He took the storm so your house could stand.

If you recognise that you have been building on sand, it is not too late. Our hope is not in the strength of our construction but in the strength of our foundation. That foundation is not a set of rules or principles like the Pharisees followed—it is a person, and that person is Jesus Christ.

He is the rock. He did not merely preach the Sermon on the Mount—he fulfilled it. He lived the perfect life we could not live. He loved his enemies. He walked in perfect obedience to the will of the Father and trusted the Father fully, even to the point of death.

On the cross, Jesus did not merely suffer physically—he stood in our place and endured the storm of God’s judgement and wrath for our sin and guilt.

Because of this hope, Paul assures us: “So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God, built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Christ Jesus himself being the cornerstone” (Ephesians 2:19–20). Jesus is the cornerstone—the one sure and eternal foundation.

Conclusion

The call is not simply to build better or try harder—it is to come to the Rock. Come to Jesus. Trust in him. Rest in him. Build your whole life on him. Yes, storms will come, but your house, your life, and your soul will stand—not because you built well, but because He is the unshakeable foundation beneath you.

Let us conclude where we began with Dr. Seuss: “Which way does a tree fall? A tree falls the way it leans. Be careful which way you lean.”

So I ask you one final time: Which way is your life leaning? Not just on Sunday or in crisis moments, but in the quiet, ordinary rhythms of life where no one is watching. When temptation whispers, when fears creep in, when you feel the weight of grief and pressure, on what do you lean?

The storm is coming, but so is the kingdom. As the hymn declares: “On Christ, the solid Rock I stand; all other ground is sinking sand.”

Be careful which way you lean. Lean on the cross. Trust in him. Build on him. “For no one can lay a foundation other than that which is laid, which is Jesus Christ” (1 Corinthians 3:11).

AMEN