Sunday, September 4, 2011
The Rev. Melissa Campbell-Langdell
A preacher I know shared this joke once and I’m passing it on to you all. There was this fellow who got stranded on a desert island. He lived there for many years and built a little one-man dwelling and did quite well for himself, living off of the land and the sea. Finally a boat stumbled upon this little island and the passenger came ashore and found the man. The islander man proudly showed the visitor around and shared the places that he had built. The fellow from the boat noticed that there were three buildings, so he asked about them. The islander guy said, the one in the middle’s my house, and the one on the left is my old church, and the one on the right is my new church, which I built after I got sick of my old church! J
It tells a truth about us, doesn’t it? As human beings, we always mess up, in churches, as in other institutions. As much as we would like to heed Paul’s advice here that “Love does no wrong to a neighbor” (Romans 13:10a), we know that sometimes even and sometimes especially in church, we can be seen at our most flawed and will need to reconcile with each other. In today’s Gospel Jesus helps us learn how to do that.
Here Paul and Jesus are telling us how to live as Christians in the church.
Although here we aren’t talking as much about performing a ritual as how to relate to each other, especially when we are not at our most angelic.
Jesus challenges us here to really interact with each other, not to flee as the guy in the joke did, even though his argument was just with himself. Part of what it means to walk in the light as we hear about in Romans, is to react not in anger but out of love when someone has sinned against you. The interaction is so important here because, as one commentator reminded me this week, the sin against any member of the Body of Christ is a sin against the whole body; against the whole church. Thus when a member sins against you, it is not only about you, it is about repairing the fabric of the church.[1]
So Jesus implores us to reach out when we feel that an offense has occurred that might affect the fabric of the relationship and the community, not just a difference in opinion, but something that might get in the way of your Christian love for another member of the community. Jesus suggests that we try to mend the breach one-on-one, and then if that is not possible, that we try to mend the breach with just a couple of community members, and if that doesn’t work, and only then, bring it before the whole community, and if that doesn’t work, then allow that person to go their own way away from the community, if they are decided upon it.
Commentator Hambrick-Stowe points out that Jesus’ careful instructions say to “treat someone as a tax collector and a gentile”, and that Jesus is pretty clear about always including tax collectors and gentiles.[2] As Christians, we cannot simply write people off. This all being said, a part of this puzzle is the fact that you can only do your part of the reconciliation, and you cannot condone abusive behavior. You can reach out to the party who has offended you, but you cannot change their way of being. If they choose to be at odds with you and/or with the church, then you must bless them on their way. If they strive to be in relationship, even though you may disagree at times, you must strive along with them to the extent that you can.
This all has to do with forgiveness and reconciliation. Right before this passage in Matthew, we hear about the one lost sheep that is found being so close to God’s heart—reconciliation of the sinner or of the person who has been lost is so vital. And after this passage we hear about forgiveness and the need to forgive seventy-seven times, as one commentator put it, “as long as it takes.”[3] But both forgiveness and reconciliation happen with at least two parties, and each party can only do as much as he or she can do.
In his wonderful book on forgiveness, Forgiven and Forgiving, Bill Countryman suggests that if you feel wronged, it helps you spiritually to try to forgive to the point where you are able to set that hurt aside and move on with your life. Forgiveness helps you lay the past aside and live more lightly in the present. But that is your part of the work. If the other party cannot apologize and reconcile, it is not your problem. As he puts it,
“We can forgive without their asking forgiveness—if we have to. We can repent and build anew without their forgiveness—if we have to.”[4]
I think that this applies to the process of transition in Christian communities also. There is often some forgiveness that needs to happen without the apology, as well as some repentance that needs to occur without the forgiveness.
Many times when someone leaves or you experience another loss in your life as a congregation, this is the kind of forgiveness you must practice, because he or she may leave without enough apologies or explanations, and it is hard, because it puts the onus on you to forgive and/or repent to the extent that you need to in order to move on as a congregation. That may mean telling others and me how mad you are and then it is about praying through forgiving that person or situation enough to lay it aside. Because only in laying it aside do you get to the good stuff of the next step in our path. Your next step as a person; your next step as a community striving to follow Christ and share his love.
This is hard work, but we do it because we are called as Christians to be Children of the Light, and because ultimately forgiveness, right relationship, really engaging each other, means that we live lighter lives, we live less burdened, and like the Jews eating Passover dinner, we leave here after our communion and sharing, energized and unburdened and ready to continue on our journey of faith, not held back, walking in love all the way. No turning back Lord, no turning back.
[1] Jin S. Kim, “Pastoral Perspective: Matthew 18:15-20,” FOTW Year A, Vol. 4.
[2] Charles Hambrick-Stowe, “Theological Perspective: Matthew 18:15-20,” FOTW Year A, Vol. 4.
[4] L. William Countryman, Forgiven and Forgiving, (Harrisburg: Morehouse, 1998), 93.
