Our Gospel lesson, Matthew 18:15-20, is a teaching on Jesus-centered conflict resolution. For those
of us who enjoy imagining what it was like to be around when Jesus was teaching his followers the
same instructions we are receiving today, this lesson seems very connected to the historical Jesus.
This weekend, the New Garden Friends Meeting were preparing those who lead their committees to
be effective leaders in the Mennonite tradition — which is to say, to lead in a way that does not drive
decisions or force a vote on matters, but rather to develop consensus among the kinfolk who are
discerning the will of God in their community together. It is easy for me to imagine Jesus teaching in
that Friends’ setting, and this gospel lesson on conflict resolution could have fit right in. Of course,
the part in verse 17 about involving the “church-gathering” is a later addition consistent with the
context for the hearers of Matthew’s gospel; and the tax collector part could be an addition, which
would have mattered to Matthew. But that tax collector part would have also mattered to Jesus: an
identity which would allude to a conflict or disconnect within the community, but which also would
have a hope in future reconciliation. The tax collector is an embodiment of restorative justice. In
fact, the restorative nature of this passage comes through most strongly when we continue to read
vv18-20 to hear the message that when we involve others in the work of conflict resolution — the
power of “two or three” others — it sets the stage for the greatest act of the church: Choosing
redemption over rejection, and praying for that to manifest in our relational lives. That is what it we
are “binding or loosing” in v18, and it begins when those gathered in that spirit of resolution continue
to seek and discern healing resolution with the presence of Jesus Christ.
So this teaching in Matthew is actually less of an instruction manual for problems and more
like a training on a sacred movement toward one another and Jesus, in hope for healing and growth
within the flock. This movement is seemingly initiated when someone does something which
requires some action: “if your sister or brothers sins against you…”. Using some classical church
language here, the passage does not distinguish between a sin of omission or commission — whether
you did this act unintentionally, or while knowing that it was wrong — a sin has happened
nevertheless and relational harm, in addition to other harms, has been done. This “sin” is the initial
action which leads to the need for movement which creates the potential for restoration. Now, its not
in my best interest or necessarily in my preaching style to make this into a sermon on “sin,” but we
need to pause here for a moment to unpack what is being said about the act which needs resolution.
The word primarily translated as “sin” or “trespasses” in the New Testament Greek doesn’t show up
a ton in scripture, and when it starts appearing it mostly is found in much later manuscripts. It is a
complex word which blends a few other Greek words into something that means, “to not have a share
in something.” That “something” is the reward for hitting the mark, like the target with an arrow.
Therefore, sin is often described as a “missing of the mark.” But I think there is something significant
about hearing it in Jesus’ teaching as “not having a share in something that matters.” In that case, we
hear Jesus describe an action in which a brother or sister has not grasped something, has not managed
to wrap their head or heart or life around something, has become separated from the center, has lost
their share. To this person, Jesus provides the guidance to help them to find or return to the center, to
“gain a share” in that which is to be enjoyed and celebrated together. Jesus does state that should
there not be change and repentance and growth and healing — if the “grasping” of what is important
and the “coming together” does not happen — then just let that one be “apart.” Even so, Jesus leaves
the process open for ongoing reconciliation, albeit with a shift where the one who has been harmed is
not having to labor any further in pursuit of repentance and change. At some point, we pray, the Spirit
of Christ will stir the one who sinned to grasp what they have previously missed.
For the one who has missed the mark, this process can come across as an element of
“discipline.” This is where I pause and say that, yes, I decided that on my first Sunday with you all Iwould preach on sin and discipline within the church and expect that to go just fine. But we can’t
fully understand this teaching and our place within it without this lens. So, let’s be clear here: this is
a passage about discipline. And I know that sounds punitive, and within progressive churches
perhaps even archaic, but hang with me. Our notion of discipline is broken. Just look at an institution
like a public or private school and you will see this error play out. Generally, in those spaces, a child
will miss the mark, exhibit red flag behaviors, lose their grasp on something that matters — and
frequently this happens from a system that does not grasp their own provocations and reactivity —
and when it happens the response is to further exit the child from their peers and from the
environment in which they are nourished and nurtured through learning and healthy meals and safe
spaces. We call this “discipline,” which is preposterous; and the reality is that institutions like these
throughout our society developed their moral codes and responses through the religious culture
around and within them. That is a problematic mirror for the church to look into because it is our
failure in understanding what discipline is about. Discipline is directly connected to the restorative
and relationally healing teachings of Jesus. Anyway, enough on that soapbox. The point is that our
passage is about discipleship, and we can perhaps better see that with a quick look at the etymology
of the word.
The study of the words we use is a wild and wonderful practice, but it doesn’t always end
with certainty. Discipline is one of those words. It seems probably rooted in the Latin for teaching
and suffering, which is a fair description of how it sometimes feels to be a learner of something we
didn’t grasp previously. It also may have connections to another word for “learner” and “listener,”
which would connect to our passage when in v17 instead of repeating the word “sinner” Jesus refers
to the person as one who “refuses to listen.” When we don’t listen, we fail to grasp what matters.
Discipline is always about returning us to that state of being a listener and learner, even when there is
some pain, some suffering involved in the teaching we need to hear and receive. This is what a
“disciple” is to do, what Jesus has called us to do in our journey with him: to change our position so
that we might listen again, learn again, and with the guidance of another and the entire community
(the power of “two or three”), discern and grasp what healing needs to take place.
In this passage, it is not enough to resolve the conflict, but to center the process by which
discover our need for discipline as disciples: we need to be confronted with our need to listen, to
learn further, to grasp better, to participate in the share that allows the entire community to celebrate.
But becoming this type of disciple — one who acknowledges their need to be a “servant-listener” or
“learner of that which we missed the mark on” — is quite uncomfortable. Especially the moment
when we are confronted by the ones who have been “unheard” by us previously, in ways that may
have been extremely harmful.
You know, I probably should state clearly something which may have been somewhat subtle
in my reflections on this Gospel lesson up to now: It is very likely that we need to start identifying as
“the brother or sister or community who…” misses the mark, still needs to grasp, still has to listen,
still has much to learn, still needs to seek healing with another. Basically, we who gladly welcome
the label “disciple” need to get comfortable with the “restorative discipline” which will help us grow
more into the way of Jesus. Of course, to get there we will have to stop thinking that this passage
isn’t about us, and we will also have to stop feeling a way when another tries to help us hit the mark.
We will need to make adjustments whenever we think that correction and discipline and conflict and
repentance and repair can’t be about us, can’t be on us, can’t be our failure or problem or causation.
We will need to shift from thinking that we didn’t do anything, and turn toward something much
healthier: I want to grow. I want to learn. I want to serve. I want someone to take my hand and lead
me where I can’t get to on my own and help me hold what I can’t hold on my own. That is a hardchange to make. Being a leaner again so that you can be restored is a hard shift to make. But to not
“hear” and receive such opportunities and invitations from Christ and other brothers and sisters will
keep us apart; keep us from discipleship in the way of Jesus Christ.
Now, a good teacher can tell you that there are several learning styles out there, and my
parents or teachers might say that my learning style is “the hard way!” Like, my dad was pretty clear
with us growing up that we shouldn’t go touching the electric fence, but there was a lot of free time
for feral kids in the 80’s and my friends and I were beyond such discipling lessons as that so we had
to learn the hard way. (I had a friend named Sparky who, obviously, learned the best!) But in the
ways that matter to Jesus’ teaching this morning, my learning has not been much better. Despite
knowing that I shouldn’t steal, there was that time when my friend (one of the electric fence “bunch”)
left his baseball cards at my house and I proceeded to pull from his collection some cards that I
wanted for my own. He came back later that day after realizing he left his boxes, and then called me
an hour later to ask if I had take any out of those boxes. I guess I started listening better in that
moment, as I clearly heard the hurt in his voice and I acknowledged the truth — I had done wrong by
him. We made our plan to restore his losses, but not without a witness to my missing the mark: my
dad had picked up the house phone when my friend called and overheard the conflict. It was harder
knowing that he witnessed what I had done, but as Jesus tells us it can be part of the healing work to
be vulnerable with more than the one harmed.
But, on another occasion later in life, there were none of these additional witnesses — this
time to one of my biggest sins against a brother or sister. This occasion didn’t involve my “hobby,”
baseball cards, but rather my “habits” as someone who had not learned yet the impact of racial and
gender power dynamics. At my Freedom School site in 2018, I reacted to a black young woman who
was trying to supervise all of our local Freedom School sites (as part of what we called back then
“Piedmont Freedom Schools”). In that interaction, on my site turf, I spoke in ways that exhibited
white and male power over someone trying to do their job. In the immediate aftermath, with no other
witnesses, I felt valid in my actions. It would take two whole years before I began to discern what
relational harm had occurred that day — two years before I could see that I am the one who has done
something against another which desperately needs restoration and repair. In 2021, I began
journeying more closely with the person harmed and made it a practice to bring it up and invite
conversation on this event whenever I can so that can continue to listen and learn more about where
my blind spots are, my weaknesses are, and where I need to be a better disciple.
Being a listener to those who have experienced your missing the mark, not having a grasp on
what matters, on remaining apart because we aren’t hearing our momentary or continued role in
things that have hurt another, this is — as the root of discipline suggests — the convergence of
teaching and suffering. It is where we become servant-learners again. This is our task, given us by
Jesus; a task without end, to be honest with you. We white progressive Christians have a knack for
thinking that our discipleship is built on attaining wisdom or taking on an additional discipline (like
joining a group or participating in a social event). We really have a hard time discovering that our
discipleship is to take on the discipline that will make of us listeners and learners again so that we
can be restored into the fellowship and flock of Jesus Christ. That we may have broken something,
ignored something, not listened to a witness to something that we have done through omission or
commission, and to discover that it is us who will need to be led back to right relationship by the
ones who — in acts of courageous hopefulness — may have been hurt by us, yet want to see Christ’s
healing and reconciliation occur. That will be hard for us. Its a process that may take us time and
many steps. But it is the will of our Father in heaven that not even we will be lost in this community
of Jesus.I believe Home Moravian Church has relationships that are new and historic, recently
invested in and deserving new investments, all of which seem aimed in a single, southeast ward
geographic direction, which will provide us the chance to be learners, listeners, disciplined disciples
again. To see relationships deepened, healed, restored, renewed. And I pray that we can not get
anxious or upset by that task and our need to be the ones who change our ways and our stances and
our orientation, but that we will give thanks for the invitations that come to grasp something new and
better hit the mark of God’s kingdom and beloved community.
By the way, regarding learning styles I actually consider myself as “emergent learner” — one
who enjoys the journey and the discoveries along the way. Adrienne Marie Brown’s “Emergent
Strategy” is a fun book for emergent learners. And to close this morning, I’ll just share this word
from her in a chapter about the connection between listening, learning, and changing, appropriately
titled Conversations:
I met Grace Lee Boggs when she was 92 and slowly grew a friendship with her. Grace had
core questions, questions she asked for decades of everyone she met. She just kept asking
them, and she would watch all of us grow as we answered her questions again and again.
One of her core questions was “What time is it on the clock of the world?” My answer to that
question has become, “Time to close the gap…”
It is time to close the gap, between what we see in ourselves and how others see and
experience us; its time to close the gap, between what we think we know and what we need to hear
again or for the first time; its time to close the gap that may exist between us and other brothers and
sisters whom we need and love and cherish; its time to discern the Lord’s vision for us and how we
can get closer to the mark; its time, as it always is, to be disciples. Amen.
