The Elephant in the Room

Jesus does not come to add weight to the weary. He comes to carry sinners who are already broken.

When something is obvious, awkward, unavoidable and yet somehow still unnamed, we call it “the elephant in the room.” Everyone sees it, steps around it and pretends the furniture is arranged this way on purpose.

Churches, families and communities know this elephant. We learn how to step around things. We teach our children how to smile politely. We say “everything is fine” in a tone that means nothing is fine. Keeping the peace around the elephant often means staying quiet and avoiding certain topics to avoid making people uncomfortable. It’s a skill the church is quite good at because we want people to be comfortable in church. If someone is uncomfortable, then everyone is uncomfortable.

But then Jesus walks into the room, and he is rarely interested in maintaining institutional politeness. He points to the elephant and says, “There it is!”

In Matthew 23, Jesus finally says out loud what everyone has been thinking, but no one with a title before their name is willing to admit: The religious leaders know how to talk. They can quote Scripture and interpret tradition. They are very skilled at instructing others in the way of righteousness. They have their robes and special seats within the community. But somewhere along the way, their lives stopped matching their words.

It is the elephant in the room.

Jesus says to them, “The scribes and the Pharisees sit on Moses’ seat; therefore, do whatever they teach you and follow it, but do not do as they do, for they do not practice what they teach” (vv. 2-3).

Their words may be correct, but their lives have become a contradiction. They know the language of God, but they have forgotten the heart of God. They know how to bind burdens on others, but not how to lift them. They know how to be seen, but have forgotten how to serve.

And Jesus is done pretending this is fine.

 

Faithfulness vs. Performance

This is a danger zone for the preacher’s sermon because the easiest way to preach Matthew 23 is to make it about “those people.” Those hypocrites, religious elites and Pharisees. Those preachers who are not me. Those people way back then who were very bad — unlike me, who is very humble, faithful, self-aware and grateful that Jesus has provided the church with such a useful text to judge others.

But Jesus sneaks up on us in Matthew 23. The elephant in the room can show up anywhere. There is an elephant that sits in the corner of every worship service, church council meeting and denominational gathering — even in your own church:

• The elephant is in the church whenever faith becomes performance.
• The elephant is in the preacher whenever words become easier than obedience.
• The elephant is in the congregation whenever we confuse respectability with faithfulness.
• The elephant is in the disciple whenever we would rather be seen doing holy things than being quietly remade by God’s grace.

To be clear, Jesus is not attacking faithfulness. He is attacking performance that cosplays as faithfulness. The difference matters:

• Faithfulness is when you serve because your neighbor needs mercy, and performance is when you serve so that someone might notice you.
• Faithfulness is when you pray because you need God, and performance is when you pray because you need people to think you have religion figured out.
• Faithfulness is when you give because grace has loosened your grip, and performance is when you give because your name might appear on a plaque.
• Faithfulness is when you proclaim the truth and know that you are still being taught, and performance is when you teach the truth as though your seminary degree wiped away your need for grace.

That is the elephant in the room. Faith can become a stage, religion a costume, and church a theater where everyone knows their lines and cues. The audience applauds at the right time, and God is treated as a prop.

That kind of religion will break your back and then call the fracture faithfulness. It will convince you that your broken back proves God is happy with you.

 

Freedom for the Weary

To this kind of religion, Jesus says no. He sees the elephant-sized burden and says, “This is not my kingdom!” Jesus does not come to add weight to the weary. He comes to carry sinners who are already bent.

Earlier in Matthew, Jesus said, “Come to me, all you who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest” (11:28). Notice that Jesus does not say, “Come to me, all you who have successfully managed your religious image.” He says, “all you who are weary.”

All you who are tired of pretending and performing. All you who are tired of carrying burdens on your shoulders in the name of God. All you who have mistaken exhaustion for holiness.

Come to me, and I will give you rest.

That is the gospel hiding in the middle of this hard word from Jesus. Jesus names the elephant in the room not to humiliate the weary, but to expose the system that keeps weary people trapped. He is not here to shame the burdened. Jesus is here to free them.

The problem with the scribes and Pharisees is not that they care too much about holiness. The problem is that they have turned holiness into a performance that benefits them at everyone else’s expense.

We may not all wear the professional attire of a religious leader, but we each have our own version.

We have curated lives and managed impressions. We have social media posts, titles, credentials, humblebrags, public acts of concern, and the subtle ways we let people know we are in the room they wish they were invited into.

Church people, as much as we might disagree, are not immune to the elephant. We have a habit of turning service into status and prayers into performance. Before we know it, our generosity can become our reputation, turning ministry into admiration. Even our humility can become our brand.

Jesus sees through all of this, which is terrifying and liberating. Terrifying because Jesus is not fooled by our religious stagecraft and liberating because we do not have to keep performing for God.

Jesus sees what is true. He sees our mixed motives and insecurities. He sees underneath our fears and desire for control. He sees our loneliness that lies beneath our hunger for status. He sees our exhaustion.

And still, Jesus calls us, not because our words and lives have always matched perfectly, but because he is merciful.

That is the big relief of the confrontation of Matthew 23. The kingdom of God does not run on our performance. The kingdom of God runs on grace.

And grace has a way of making performers nervous because grace means you do not have to create your own importance. Grace means you can stop confusing visibility with value.

 

The Elephant Is Us

In the kingdom, Jesus announces, greatness looks like service. “The greatest among you will be your servant,” Jesus says (v. 11). “All who exalt themselves will be humbled, and all who humble themselves will be exalted” (v. 12).

That is the grand reversal of the kingdom of God. Not strategy, performance or impressiveness. Service.

The one who had every right to take the highest seat took the lowest. He took our burden upon himself. Jesus does not merely point to the servant’s path. He walks it all the way to the cross.

On the cross of Christ, the elephant in the room is finally exposed for what it is: Our pride, hypocrisy, love of status and religious games. Our ability to praise God with our lips and resist God with our lives. It is all there, and Jesus carries it.

This means that the kingdom of God does not belong to the performers. It belongs to the crucified and risen One. And because it belongs to him, we are free. Free from pretending and performing. Free from the best seat in the room and turning every good act into a resume line.

Freedom in Christ is not an excuse to avoid obedience. Rather, freedom in Jesus Christ is the only way obedience becomes possible. Because once grace tells you that you are already loved, you no longer need holiness to prove yourself. You can serve and take the lower seat. You can tell the truth and confess that there are times when your words do not match your life. You can acknowledge the elephant in the room, even when the elephant is you.

The church does not need any more performers. It needs sinners who know they need grace and servants who have been served by Christ. The church needs people who can say, “Yes, there is an elephant in the room, but by the mercy of God, we do not have to keep arranging the furniture around it.”

So yes, there is an elephant in the room. Our words and our lives do not always match.

Jesus sees it. Jesus names it. And then, Jesus does what only Jesus can do: He climbs underneath the weight of us, takes it upon himself, and saves the people trapped beneath it.

—Teer Hardy and Carl Wilton contributed to this material.

The Other Texts

What Is One Possible Approach to the Text?

Wet Faith. This text has inspired innumerable gospel songs (“Roll, Jordan, Roll”) because of the “river” metaphor linked to the idea of a “promised land,” utopia, paradise or even heaven. Canaan was a step up from the wilderness in which the Israelites had been living, but gaining possession of the land would be no picnic for this generation or for generations to come.

What can a preacher say about this text that has pastoral importance? Start by observing that this text is about transition on several levels. The people are experiencing a transition of leadership. They are transitioning into a different cultural milieu and new home, and after 40 years of peace (wandering as they were in the wilderness pretty much alone and unmolested), they will now shift into an aggressive role as they move to claim the “promised land.”

To survive this transition, they need “Wet Faith,” specifically for their religious and spiritual leaders. This whole enterprise is dependent upon the priests: “When the soles of the feet of the priests … rest in the waters of the Jordan, the waters … shall be cut off” (3:13). The people were absolutely at the mercy of the priests. Would they or would they not get their feet wet in the muddy waters of the Jordan? The entire future history of a nation rested upon this single act: priests willing to get their feet wet. Priests with “wet faith.”

The sermon, then, becomes an opportunity to explain the pastor’s role as a leader of the congregation. The pastor, in this metaphor, is the one doing the feet dipping, getting wet and willing to be accused of being “all wet.” The proof of God’s presence is that when the priests got wet, the ground got dry. It’s all well and good to imagine a postmodern pastor being on the journey with the congregation, part of the conversation, and not apart from the congregation, i.e., “one of them.” But at some point, the pastor also must be the one who puts a foot in the water and says, “The ground is dry. Have no fear.” As pastors, we must be sure that the Jordan into which we are about to dip our feet is the “Jordan” to which God has led us. Only then can we expect our congregation to catch a vision of “the promised land” and cross over on dry ground.

What Does the Text Say?

This text describes Israel’s crossing of the Jordan. A scouting party had already made a foray into Jericho, narrowly escaping with their lives. Joshua is the new leader, and the book opens with him preparing for the long-awaited invasion. The Israelites — except for a few — now have no personal recollection of Egypt, and they are quite ready to get the show on the road. They are the Joshua Generation, not the Moses Generation, and they say to Joshua: “All that you have commanded us we will do, and wherever you send us we will go” (1:16), and they even say that anyone who disobeys a direct order from Joshua will be put to death.

The Lord says that a successful crossing, however, will legitimize Joshua’s authority in Israel (“… so that they may know that I will be with you as I was with Moses …” [3:7]). The plan is simple: The priests bearing the ark of the covenant will lead the procession. When their feet “were dipped in the edge of the water” (3:15), the Jordan would roll back by being dammed from the north, and the downstream water flowing into the Salt Sea would thereby be cut off. Then the priests would proceed to the center of the riverbed with the ark of the covenant and remain there as Israel crossed the Jordan on “dry ground,” an event certain to echo the miraculous exodus of their forebears from Egypt 40 years earlier.

That is the plan, and that’s how it happened.

What Is One Possible Approach to the Text?

The Facebook Psalm. One of the familiar cutlines that springs from this psalm is in verse 2, and it provides the rubric or organizational structure for the entire psalm: “Let the redeemed of the LORD say so.” Having announced this as the theme, the psalmist then gives us a series of Facebook entries in which we get to know who some of these “redeemed” are. The divisions occur at verses 4, 10, 17 and 23. The pattern is always the same: “Some …” did this or that, fell into misery, called for help, and found relief and salvation through the mighty works of God.

Take a close look at these “somes” and decide who they might characterize in our culture today. Verse 4ff might describe those who wander aimlessly in life, having no purpose until they find God. Verse 10ff might describe those in depression or “in irons” because of an affliction or addiction. This Facebook entry describes people who now are redeemed and who “say so” (v. 2). Verse 17ff might describe those who were “sick” in some way, but were delivered. Verse 23ff might describe those who sailed the chaotic seas of business but fell into bad habits (the sea in the OT is a symbol for chaos) yet were delivered when they cried for help. Four Facebook entries, and four types of people who are now “the redeemed of the LORD,” who once were in trouble, but lived to talk about how they found redemption.

What Does the Text Say?

This text is the musical score for Joshua 3:7-17 because the lection includes only those verses applicable to the OT lesson. But to fully appreciate this psalm, one must consider it in toto.

What Is One Possible Approach to the Text?

The Pastor as Parent. Explain your pastoral goals. Discuss your desire to be “pure, upright, and blameless.” Yes, acknowledge that you, too, are human. But in today’s culture of scandal, this hardly needs to be emphasized. Better to say, “Yes, I am human, but I am also called to be the adult in this situation. I am called to be ‘upright,’ and I want you to know that this is my intention.” Let the congregation know that you accept the higher expectations placed upon you as the spiritual leader of the flock.

Then explain that only by establishing this ethos are you able to “urge, encourage and to plead.” Explain how you intend to do that.

Then go on to affirm the congregation by enumerating why you, like the apostle Paul, have cause to “constantly give thanks to God” for this congregation.

What Does the Text Say?

Here the apostle Paul reminisces about his early days with this congregation, reminding them that he “worked” to earn a living while with them, so as not to “burden any of you while we proclaimed to you the gospel of God.” He insists that as leaders they were “pure, upright, and blameless” in their conduct toward the “believers.” He describes his relationship to them as a “father with his children.” In the verses that precede this lection, he uses a feminine reference: “We were gentle among you, like a nurse tenderly caring for her own children.” In this parental role, he spent his time “urging … encouraging … and pleading that you lead a life worthy of God.” Finally, seeing the fruit of his parental ministrations, he can “constantly give thanks to God.”

Worship Resources

May the goodness and mercy of the Lord be with us all now and forever. And may our service to God be diligent and unwavering all the days of our lives. In Christ’s name. Amen.

Confession

Merciful God, we acknowledge that we are impressed by things that do not matter to you in the least. Our heads are turned by education, power, pedigree, looks and money. We confuse intelligence with wisdom, family name with honor, positions of influence with integrity, looks with character and money with dignity. Generosity, kindness, humility and selflessness are more to your liking, but we confess that we do not always honor these characteristics. We push for the awards, the accolades, the praise, the recognition of our peers. All the while, Lord, we are full of self-doubt, afraid of being exposed as a phony, as being less than we pretend to be. We live in the shadow of an illusion of our own making, yet we feel powerless to stop the charade. Forgive us, Lord. Heal our brokenness, forgive our stubbornness and pride, and grant us the mercy to confront our own hypocrisy. By your grace, renew a right mind and heart within us and restore us to yourself. Amen.

Assurance of Pardon

Friends, God is faithful and just to forgive us and cleanse us from every unrighteous thought, word and deed. Receive this pardon that is freely offered and walk as those who are made whole again. Amen.

Leader: Let us examine ourselves to see if we rest in faith.

People: May Christ’s power rest upon us.

Leader: We do not boast of our week’s conquests, but we boast rather of the things that reveal our weakness.

People: May Christ’s power rest upon us.

Leader: Do you not know the stirrings of divine power laid beneath the hardships of everyday life?

People: May Christ’s power rest upon us.

Leader: Cultivated by humility to be released as a fragrance of new life …

All: Is the power of the living Christ.

Hymns
Ye Servants of God, Your Master Proclaim
Lord, Whose Love Through Humble Service
We All Are One in Mission

Worship and Praise*
Speak O Lord (Townend, Getty)
The Reconciliation Song (Cloninger, Owens, Chapman)
Make Me a Servant (Willard)

*For licensing and permission to reprint or display these songs on screen, go to ccli.com. The worship and praise songs suggested by Homiletics can be found in most cases on Google by using the title as the search term.

COMMENTARY

on Matthew 23:1-12