Cue the frown. The local paper has just lobbed onto my driveway, and without picking it up, I bet I can predict what picture will grace the front cover. It will be a group of people frowning, and the cause of their frowning? A cracked footpath, a tree illegally poisoned, an unwieldy round-about, a newly permitted high-rise development in their neighbourhood. I wonder what the photographer says before he takes the unhappy snap. “Mouldy cheese”?

The Pharisees of Jesus’ day were masters of pulling the sad-face on cue. “When you fast, do not look sombre as the hypocrites do, for they disfigure their faces to show men they are fasting. I tell you the truth, they have received their reward in full. But when you fast, put oil on your head and wash your face, so that it will not be obvious to men that you are fasting, but only to your Father, who is unseen; and your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.”

I suppose there’s some logic in looking cross and cranky when the footpath outside your house is a trip-hazard to pedestrians. There’s a logic too in looking sombre when you’re serious. But the logic of the Pharisees was perverse: Others will see that I’m fasting, and will think that I’m holy, and that will increase my respect in the dress circle of the synagogue. Jesus despised such twisted thinking, and strongly cautioned his people to be those who wear only one face.