September 7, 2008

Clay Nelson

Pentecost 17     Matthew 18:15-20

A young rabbi found a serious problem in his new congregation. During the Friday service, half the congregation stood for the prayers and half remained seated, and each side shouted at the other, insisting that theirs was the true tradition. Nothing the rabbi said or did moved toward solving the impasse. Finally, in desperation, the young rabbi sought out the synagogue's 99-year-old founder. He met the old rabbi in the nursing home and poured out his troubles. "So tell me," he pleaded, "was it the tradition for the congregation to stand during the prayers?" "No," answered the old rabbi." Ah," responded the younger man, "then it was the tradition to sit during the prayers?" "No," answered the old rabbi. "Well," the young rabbi responded, "what we have is complete chaos! Half the people stand and shout, and the other half sit and scream." "Ah," said the old man, "that was the tradition."

I think we all know conflict and division are not just the tradition of the rabbi’s congregation. Having just endured watching the Democratic and Republican Party Conventions, the tradition is alive and well in national politics there and here. It appears to be the tradition of Lambeth Conferences as well, if the last one is any indication. Some conservative bishops attending proudly wore T-shirts proclaiming “Holier than Thou” on the front, while those supporting the gay and lesbian community thought “Lambeth 08: Holy Crap” would’ve been more accurate.

Experience tells us that conflict is the tradition of every societal community, large or small. And not just conflict but conflict imbued with self-righteous certainty, seasoned with a heaping spoonful of hypocrisy.

I know this is true because those who disagree with me are clearly self-righteous hypocrites. The church is full of them. Bishop Francisco Reus-Froylán, the first native Puerto Rican bishop, taught me this as a young priest when he came to my church for a confirmation service. Bishop Paco, as he preferred to be called, told my congregation that when people tell him they don’t go to church because it is filled with hypocrites, he tells them not to worry, there is always room for one more. Bishop Paco was a very forgiving man, even towards my dog at the time who nipped his leg, tearing his trousers.

Scholars make a compelling case that Jesus never intended to create the church. Apparently they don’t think he was that stupid to ask for that much trouble. But just two weeks ago we heard the opposite. Matthew’s gospel tells us Jesus made Peter the cornerstone on which he would build his church. While Jesus would roll his eyes at this self-serving claim, the assertion did succeed in giving Matthew’s gospel prominence over the others in the church’s eyes. That’s why it comes first in the New Testament.

This week we hear why Jesus would’ve scorned the idea of having a church. Apparently it is already in conflict. We know this because Matthew already has Jesus teaching the church conflict resolution techniques. The irony is not lost on us. An institution founded on a gospel of peace and love is rift with disagreement right from the start.

Since the church is here, whether Jesus is happy about it or not, we appreciate Matthew’s guidance on how to approach conflict. What I appreciate most is what he doesn’t suggest. He doesn’t suggest winning at all cost by smearing your opponent with lies and half-truths or name-calling. (Please take note Sarah Palin. You might want to re-read this portion of the Bible you take so literally.) He doesn’t suggest declaring a jihad on those who have a different worldview like Bush, Cheney, McCain, Putin and Bin Laden. He doesn’t even suggest publicly threatening excommunication of prominent pro-choice Catholics like John Kerry, Nancy Pelosi and Joe Biden as some American Bishops have done. Matthew seems to think that drawing lines in the sand is unchristian. More importantly, Matthew is not arguing for the impossible: the absence of conflict. Matthew acknowledges its reality. He might even recognise that conflict is necessary and useful. It is necessary for the human heart to grow more loving. It is useful because it provides a laboratory for practicing the Christian mission. In Matthew’s view that mission is reconciliation.

I agree, but reconciliation is one of those words that need to be unpacked, because in my view it often gets over-sentimentalized in flowery language. In truth reconciliation is painful, hard work. When shortcuts are attempted, differences are glossed over for the sake of peace and unity. There are two problems with this. Firstly, any peace and unity achieved this way is not real. It will not last. There are no quick fixes. It requires a process. And secondly, as desirable as they are, peace and unity are not the goal of reconciliation. Justice is. Where there is justice, peace and unity will follow.

Besides requiring patience, what makes the process so hard?

Matthew implies it begins with respect for the one who has hurt you. Ouch! That’s a big ask. But that’s what Matthew means when he says we begin with taking the one who has offended us aside in private. It is an act that allows the other an opportunity to save face. It provides for an exchange of views without playing to a crowd. It creates an environment for mutual truth telling without intimidation. The problem of course is both parties may view the other as the offending party. For example, even in private the evangelical will denounce the progressive’s attempt to include gays and lesbians in the full life of the church as violating God’s will. And the progressive will know just as certainly that full inclusion is God’s will. Each will believe the other is harming the church.

So respect is not enough. Humility is also called for. Not the “what a miserable wretch am I” kind of humility. I mean the knowledge that we are all of the earth and to earth we shall return kind of humility. Understanding we are one in our potential and our failings; our capacity to love and our capacity to harm. Humility is prerequisite to forgiving ourselves and the ones we believe have caused harm. Such humility unbinds us from judgments that plug up our ears. It opens us up to listening with new ears to hear. I subscribe to the maxim: Confuse your enemies; listen to them.

Where true reconciliation is concerned respect and humility are essential, but they are not usually enough. Matthew seems to understand this when he offers step two. Bring a small group of others into the conversation to give evidence. I have a problem with this if it means to overpower or intimidate the other. I agree, however, if he means bring those who have been harmed into the conversation. Allow them to say how they experience the other’s actions as unloving. It makes apparent the consequences of injustice. If both parties feel they have been harmed then all who feel injured should be given opportunity to tell their truth. Only then does the whole truth have a chance of coming out.

The trickiest part of the reconciliation process is Matthew’s third step. If hearing the consequences of injustice did not bring reconciliation, he recommends bringing the conflict to the entire community. In Matthew’s day majority rule was unheard of and the idea of tyranny by the majority would’ve been nonsensical. For Matthew, bringing it to the community was about corporate responsibility. If a member of the community is harmed, all are responsible for it if it is not confronted and stopped. Bringing the conflict before them is an opportunity to repute it and to seek forgiveness for any complicity, knowingly or unknowingly, on their part.

If the offender still doesn’t listen, Matthew’s final admonition is to treat him like a tax collector – the lowest of the low. It sounds harsh, even unchristian, but once again, irony enters today’s Gospel. Matthew was a tax collector when Jesus called him to discipleship. He better than most knew that to be despised by society was not the end of the reconciliation process. Even pariahs are not outside of God’s love. Matthew knew that in God’s tradition there is always room for one more hypocrite.