Speaking the Truth in Love

In the New Revised Standard version of the Bible, this morning’s gospel lesson is entitled, “Disciplining Members of the Church.”  Sure enough, these verses lay out a graduated system of discipline, ranging from talking to the person one on one, all the way to excommunication. 

In our culture, discipline is an unpopular concept.  We are rightly sensitive to abuses of power in the name of discipline.  The idea of discipline in a church setting is especially hard to wrap your mind around.  Isn’t the gospel all about forgiveness and grace?  Isn’t it supposed to be good news for the sinner?  It may be even harder for Episcopalians to think about discipline than it is for some other Christian groups, because we leave a lot up to the individual’s conscience.  Some Christian groups have more clear-cut standards of behavior and are more apt to impose sanctions on their members for violating those standards. 

So as modern Americans and Episcopalians, how do we relate to these rules on church discipline? 

I believe that these verses in Matthew are actually a great gift to us.  Let’s see if I can convince you.

First, when you go back to chapter 18 in Matthew, you can see that the larger context is not just holding someone accountable.  It is about forgiveness and reconciliation.  Just before these verses is the parable of the lost sheep.  The shepherd leaves the 99 and goes in search of the one lost sheep.  When he finds it, he brings it home rejoicing—even more than over the 99 who didn’t go astray. 

Right after these verses, Peter Asks Jesus how many times we should forgive someone who sins against us—is seven times enough?  No, Jesus says—seventy times seven. In other words, there can be no limit on forgiveness.

Do you see how these bookends make a difference in how we read the verses on discipline? We hold people accountable, IN ORDER to forgive them and bring about healing and reconciliation—not to punish them, not to show off how much better we are and certainly not to demonstrate our power.  At the very beginning of this chapter, Jesus says that unless we become as humble as a child, we will never enter the kingdom of heaven.

So, if we approach these rules with a spirit of humility and the aim of reconciliation, we may find great wisdom in them. 

These are essentially rules for conflict resolution.  Welcome to the church.  Conflict is inevitable in any group of human beings, and maybe especially in the church because we bring high expectations and hopes, and our deepest desire for healing to church.  Where two or three are gathered, Jesus will be in the midst of them, but so will conflict. And conflict is not always a bad thing—sometimes it is absolutely necessary for growth, as any parent of a teenager can tell you. 

The problem is that most of us don’t have the skills to deal with conflict in a constructive way, and so we try to avoid it, which generally makes things worse.  That is where Matthew can really help us.  If someone sins against you, go and speak to that person in private.  That means don’t go talking to other people about it, but go straight to the person who has hurt you.  And don’t brush it under the rug and pretend nothing is wrong, because then there will be no chance to forgive and be reconciled. 

Once there is a parish in another diocese far from here.  In that parish was a man who was a strong supporter of the church.  He raised the money for a wonderful new parish hall, he ran the parish thrift shop and he served as senior warden for a number of years.  Unfortunately, he did something wrong.  He had sole control over the money from the thrift shop—he was the only one who could sign checks on that account. It wasn’t that he was stealing the money—he just wouldn’t let the parish decide how the money was spent, and his expenditures were never audited.  The priest of this parish was afraid to confront him because he did so much for the parish, so this situation went on for several years.  Then a new priest came, and when she found out about it, she took him aside and talked to him about it, just as Matthew advises.  Unfortunately, he wouldn’t listen and she asked a member of the vestry and someone on the diocesan staff to go with her to talk to him, again, according to Matthew’s guidelines.  Sadly, he got angry and left the church.  But I wonder what would have happened if the first priest had confronted him immediately, instead of ignoring the situation for years.   Perhaps he would have been more open to changing his behavior and being reconciled with the community.   

People have occasionally confronted me about something and while I can’t say that I enjoyed it at the time, in retrospect, I really appreciate their honesty and love.  For example, I once asked a man in my parish if he was willing to be considered for vestry.  He was active in the parish, and a man of deep faith and he agreed.  In the end, the nominating committee selected his wife instead of him because he had already served once, and because women were underrepresented on the vestry.  But I neglected to say anything to him, and his feelings were very hurt.  So, he made an appointment to come and see me and told me that I had hurt his feelings.  I had the opportunity to acknowledge my fault and apologize to him, and he forgave me.  And that was the end of the story.  We were reconciled.  He could have talked about it to other people in the parish, or he could have quietly slipped away to another parish.  But he chose the honest and straightforward path, meeting with me in private so that I would not be embarrassed and defensive.   

That’s what people who love each other do.  They speak the truth in love.  They hold each other accountable, because they believe in each other and in the possibility of growth. 

Too often, Christians take Jesus’ teaching about forgiveness and turning the other cheek to mean that they should just accept wrongdoing. The classic case is a battered woman whose pastor just tells her to forgive, rather than hold the abuser accountable. Of course, some wrongs are minor and should be ignored.  But if we consistently ignore wrongs, we will be doing the wrongdoer and ourselves and the whole community a disservice.  The wrongdoer will not have an opportunity to change, to make amends and be forgiven.  The wronged person will suffer from not standing up for him or herself.  The wound will fester, and the person may become passive aggressive, or depressed or have angry outbursts when they least expect it.  Or the wronged person may tell others in the community about the wrong, rather than speaking directly to the wrongdoer.  We all face that temptation—it is easier to talk to other people about what So and So did to us than it is to confront the wrongdoer.  To be honest, there’s a certain satisfaction to report on another person’s wrong—in other words, to gossip.  But we do great damage when we gossip instead of confronting someone directly.  It obviously hurts that relationship, and makes repentance and reconciliation harder.  But the community suffers too—people become afraid that they will be judged or talked about, so they don’t want to share anything.   

So, Matthew recommends starting with a one on one conversation to try to resolve conflicts and wrongs.  If that doesn’t work, bring a few trusted people with you to talk to the person, to help mediate. 

So far, so good.  But when would we take up an issue with the whole church, let alone excommunicate someone?  In a perfect world that would never happen. But I know of several examples, one from our own diocese.  There was a woman who attended a church in Manhattan, who had a problem with racism.  At coffee hour, if she saw African Americans, she would say things like, “don’t you people have your own churches?”  The rector spoke with her, then members of the vestry spoke with her, but she wouldn’t stop.  Finally the rector felt he had no choice but to deny her communion because the Book of Common Prayer says that if someone has hatred for a neighbor, they should not receive communion.  That’s the closest the Episcopal Church comes to excommunication.  And it’s not permanent—as soon as the person repents, they can come to communion again.  Of course that is a pretty drastic step and he felt the church should be behind him.  So, he took it to the church and they supported him.  That is the equivalent of treating someone as a Gentile and a tax collector.  It is heartbreaking when things get to that point, but the woman was harming individuals and the community and her own soul. 

But here is the ultimate grace in these rules.  Gentiles and tax collectors were both shunned by the Jewish community in Jesus’ day. So to treat someone as a Gentile and a tax collector means to shun them in some way. But who did Jesus hang out with?  Gentiles and tax collectors!!  Jesus came to seek out and save the lost—sinners and outcasts were his favorite people.  And that’s a good thing, because we are all sinners and outcasts.  We are the Gentiles and the tax collectors.  But God’s compassion and forgiveness knows no bounds.  All of us are invited to be reconciled—over and over. .  These rules in Matthew are not meant to shame or humiliate anyone, and they’re not meant to exclude anyone.  They are meant to help us be honest with each other, to open ourselves up to real conversation and reconciliation.