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Living Lovingly in the Light
September 11, 2017 by Rebecca Littlejohn
“Living Lovingly in the Light”
Matthew 18:15-20; Romans 13:8-14 – Rev. Rebecca Littlejohn
Vista La Mesa Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), La Mesa, California – September 10, 2017
Holy God, bless the speaking and the hearing of these words that your Spirit of Love might take hold of us and transform our hearts and your world. In the name of Jesus we pray, Amen.
So I want to take a brief poll this morning, based on those verses we heard from Matthew. There is a sense in which this is very wise counsel. If someone has sinned against you go talk to them privately, and if that doesn’t work, then bring a friend or two to be part of the conversation. And if that doesn’t work, “tell it to the church” – and that’s what I want to ask you about. If we held a church trial like the sort suggested here, would you come?
Seriously, if I sent out an email saying that so-and-so had a problem with what’s-her-name, and we needed everyone to get together on such-and-such a day to hear the whole thing out, would you show up? Raise your hand if you think you might. Now, obviously, it would depend on whether you are available or not, so just assume that you are. Would you come? The gospel passage doesn’t seem to admit the possibility that the church might not be interested in re-hashing a personal conflict between two members. Did you think about why would you come? Because you have a sober obligation to help restore whatever brokenness is afflicting the Body of Christ? Or because some part of you gets a kick out of other people’s drama? Or maybe a little of both?
It’s really hard to imagine this sort of church gathering, isn’t it? That just isn’t what we do around here. It’s not what we tend to think church is for. What happens if we combine this imposing instruction from Matthew with the verses we just read from Romans? Would it change the feel of a “church trial” if it were held with a clear awareness that “love is the fulfilling of the law”? Or is that just as hard to imagine? Both of these passages on managing morality are a bit hard to bring into our current context, but if we sort through them carefully enough, we can find some really good advice.
One thing that’s interesting to notice about the Matthew passage is the perspective. The section opens with a clear bias: “If another member of the church sins against you.” It doesn’t say, “If you’re not getting along with someone” or “If you’re having a conflict about something.” No, this passage assumes the blame lies entirely on one side: another member of the church sinned against you. Those of you who signed up to attend that church trial, raise your hand if you’re comfortable coming in with an assumption that the problem is entirely one person’s fault. I mean, obviously it feels that way to the person who complained, but we all know that in most interpersonal conflicts, there is at least a little bit of blame on both sides.
The other thing that is interesting about this conflict-management advice is the conclusion, in the case that the accused won’t listen, even to the church: “Let such a one be to you as a Gentile or a tax collector.” What does that even mean? Obviously there is a surface-level assumption that Gentiles and tax collectors should be shunned. But that’s not what Jesus did, and this is the gospel, right? So what are we really being told to do with these people who refuse to admit their wrongdoing? Pray for them? Forgive them for they know not what they do? Eat dinner with them till they decide to give away all their money to the poor, like Jesus did with Zacchaeus? Is that what happens when we hold a church trial remembering that love is the fulfilling of the law?
Perhaps I’m being too literal with the details of these instructions. If we pan out a little wider, there are some basic principles of church life that we do well to follow. Deal with conflict directly. Communicate, rather than festering. If things remain unresolved, don’t dwell on it; just accept that there is a barrier there and continue trying to love as best you can. And from the Romans passage, we can pull a lesson about the importance of transparency. All that verbiage about darkness and night and it being time to wake from sleep is basically saying “Don’t do things you’d be ashamed for people to know you did.” That’s not bad advice. And it’s not particularly difficult to understand.
So why is it sometimes so hard to do? We know, in the abstract, what is required for communities to work well together. And yet, when conflicts arise, we’re just as likely to do the opposite of what’s needed as to follow this basic advice. I think it might come down to the deeper lesson that Paul keeps repeating, that love is the fulfilling of the law. Suppose someone has become the subject of a church trial, and suppose the offense is one of those things Paul mentioned, drunkenness or licentiousness or quarreling or jealousy. If we get that person in here, and surround them with church people, and try to get them to listen, what is it that we need them to be listening to? Are we going to lovingly recite a litany of their sins? Is that what will lead to penitence and transformation? Of course not.
If we’re going to surround that person with church folks and change them by talking to them, it’s because we’re going to tell them stories about themselves that help them believe again that they are a beloved child of God. Someone is going to bring up how ecstatic their grandmother was when they were born. And someone else is going to talk about that one Christmas when they brought one of their presents to share with the Baby Jesus. And someone else is going to tell a story about how a casual comment the accused made changed their whole day and helped them make a difficult decision. This “church trial” is really just going to be a bunch of people telling stories and sharing memories, and everybody crying a lot. I bet we all want one now, don’t we?
When we really sit down to think about sin, we realize that it usually springs from forgetting that we are God’s beloved children. It’s weird how hard that can be to remember. That’s why we’re here. Because we need to be reminded. We’re not here for a trial today, but we are here to share stories that remind each of us that we are beloved children, created in love and called to love and capable of doing amazing things through the power of Christ’s love. When we can remember that, we have no need for debauchery or other “works of darkness”.
In days like these, that feel very full of darkness and destruction, it’s so important that we continue to gather together and remind ourselves of the power of God’s love. When we are threatened and afraid, it’s even easier to forget who and whose we are. As we watch the waters rise and the forests burn, as we hear of massacres in Myanmar and threats of nuclear holocaust between here and the Korean peninsula, we need to keep our eyes trained on Jesus, who reminds us of the power of God’s sacrificial love fulfilling a higher law than any law of earth. We need to keep telling the stories of how God’s love has been experienced by members of this community, in relation to one another and in relation to folks all around the world.
We don’t need someone to sin against someone else to create an occasion for these stories. We’ve all done plenty of sinning this week, such that we’d better gather at this table and tell the story we tell there, about Jesus and his love and transforming grace. And then we need to go forth from this place and keep telling those stories and living those stories, so that God’s love is made manifest in our lives and in our world, thousands of tiny little healings making the world new. That is the testimony our current trials are calling for. Alleluia and Amen.