Sermon for Sunday, 7 September 2014

Sermon for Sunday, 7 September 2014

Lutheran Church of the Redeemer, Jerusalem

13^th Sunday after Pentecost

Matthew 18:15-20

The Rev. Carrie B. Smith

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

On Thursday evening, a number of Redeemer community members gathered on a hill near Bethlehem, at a reception for the new rector of Tantur Ecumenical Institute, Father Russ. It was my first time at Tantur, and what struck me immediately was the incredible religious diversity in the room, especially Christian diversity. There were Jews and Muslims present (and perhaps representatives of other faiths) but the majority of those in attendance were Christians of various creeds and cultures.  Several times throughout the evening, I found myself standing in a circle of people who could only have been assembled for the beginning of a not-so-funny joke:

Two Lutherans, a Mennonite, and an Anglican are eating empanadas and sushi, when a Catholic priest walks up and…

Or…

An Orthodox patriarch, a theology professor and a Nazarene pastor gather at the dessert table when suddenly…

I even had one of those awkward moments, mentioned in a previous sermon, in which a Catholic sister walked straight up to me, pointed at my clergy collar, and said, “So…what are you?”

(In this case, the conversation ended with a big smile and an invitation to visit CaritasBaby Hospital in Bethlehem. All’s well that ends well!)

It was indeed an impressive collection of people, something of which Fr. Russ can be proud as he begins his ministry in Jerusalem. But of course, as lovely as diversity can be, it’s never without its challenges. Just underneath all the collegiality and friendly talk, and hiding behind the drinks and appetizers, lurks the reality that our theological, cultural, and political differences all too often come between us as people of faith. In his opening remarks, Fr. Russ reflected on his own history of believing that his church possessed the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. He also shared this poem, by Israeli poet Yehuda Amichai, called “From the Place Where We Are Right”:

From the Place Where We Are Right

From the place where we are right

Flowers will never grow

In the spring.

The place where we are right

Is hard and trampled

Like a yard.

But doubts and loves

Dig up the world

Like a mole, a plow.

And a whisper will be heard in the place

Where the ruined

House once stood

The image the poet paints—of the hard place where our need to be right means nothing else can grow—is one we can recognize all around us. We can easily cite examples of how being “right” in this context has resulted not only in the lack of flourishing and growth, but the loss of life itself. We can point to politicians and heads of state, to religious groups and others in power, calling them out for refusing to hear another perspective, refusing to show mercy, and therefore refusing to allow even a glimmer of hope to grow.

This city, and this land, is full of hard and stony places where the desire to be right supersedes the desire to be a community.

But then, pointing fingers at political or interfaith conflict allows us to ignore how the very same sins appear within the Christian community.

Case in point: The Holy Sepulcher.

It was almost comical—and a bit sad—to sit in the Church of the Holy Sepulcher to pray and meditate on this week’s Gospel text. There I was, sitting just outside the tomb, the place where Jesus’ body was laid to rest, where he was raised, and where the first faithful saw him alive after the resurrection. This, of all places, could be the glue that holds all Christians together. This, of all places, could be the sacred ground where differences fade away, and we come together to proclaim the mystery of faith in a unified voice: “Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again.” 

Ah, but you know the truth! The truth is that inside the walls of the holiest site in

Christendom plays out a centuries-long drama. Holy men of various holy orders work tirelessly to retain possession of each holy corner. In fact, the most infamous sign of this age-old conflict is outside the church, leaning up against the stone walls—the ladder to the Armenian coffee room, which has been in place since at least 1757, and will remain until such time as all five church bodies can agree. I’m not holding my breath.

Clearly, the Bible is not a foolproof handbook for community life, and Christians do not always get it right. Priests and patriarchs argue over control of holy sites. Churches close rather than open their doors to a changing neighborhood. Clergy abuse of power happens, in congregations of every size. Congregations split over issues as big as homosexuality and as small as Sunday service times or the color of the carpet. In spite of the checklist Jesus offers his disciples in Matthew chapter 18, the reality is that the Body of Christ is not always a healthy body.

And all of this happens in spite of the fact that these six verses from Matthew chapter 18 are frequently lifted up as the definitive guide for creating church constitutions or forming new ministries. To be fair: it’s not a bad place to start! Did someone hurt you? Talk to them directly (no triangles or talking behind peoples’ backs). Is there still a problem? Include a few trusted people in the conversation, to get a different perspective on the issue. Is there still no resolution? Gather the wisdom of the entire community. If, after all this, there is still a conflict, then let it go.

Direct communication, seeking wise counsel, and gathering the support of the community: This is not only good advice, but a godly practice! Dealing with conflict in the Matthew 18 way is about intentionally seeing the image of God in the other, and diligently seeking reconciliation rather than retribution.

What gets us in trouble, though, is verse 17:

An art installation by a student at Dar Al-Kalima University
College of Arts and Culture in Bethlehem,
representing the fragmenting of her community

Jesus said: “If the member refuses to listen to them, tell it to the church; and if the offender refuses to listen even to the church, let such a one be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector.”

“Let such a one be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector.” 

Never mind that Jesus himself had a habit of eating with tax collectors and making friends with Gentiles! Sadly, this verse has been used to justify the casting out of church members with different political views, unmarried pregnant women, divorced people, and gay children. It’s been used by church bodies to insist on their absolute possession of truth, and therefore the rights to property, people, power, and the claim to theological purity.

But when the words of God start to be used to cast out rather than to cast nets, then we have to ask ourselves “Is this what Jesus intended?” As the writer Anne Lamott wrote, “You can safely assume you've created God in your own image when it turns out that God hates all the same people you do.”

It may be helpful if we notice that these six verses are part of a sermon prompted by one simple question. At the beginning of chapter 18, the disciples ask Jesus: “Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?”

Who is the greatest? Jesus responds to this question by inviting a child to stand in the midst of them, saying, “Truly, I tell you, unless you change and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever becomes humble like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.” And then the sermon continues with the teaching on how to avoid temptation, the parable of the lost sheep, and this passage about dealing with conflict. Each of these teachings emphasizes humility and confession. Each of these teachings emphasizes care and concern for the other. And each teaching is given in answer to the question: “Who is the greatest? Who is right?”

Who is right? This is the question that keeps ladders leaning on buildings for centuries. This is the question that keeps people from apologizing and destroys friendships. This is the question that has created the multitude of Christian denominations represented in our pews today!

And this is the question that grieves God’s heart. For if we read just a bit further in Matthew chapter 18—past the checklist for dealing with conflict, past verse 17 and its seeming endorsement of excommunication—then we get to these words from Jesus:

“For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them.”

Wherever believers gather in his name, Jesus is there, too. Being the greatest, being right, being pure, or being in full agreement are never to be the center of the church. Wherever the faithful gather, Jesus is among them. This is the Good News we cling to, when our differences threaten to divide us. This is the Good News we need, when our need to be right becomes more important than our need to be a community. It is Christ alone who makes this fragile communion called “the church” possible!

Redeemer Lutheran is a wonderful example of this truth. We can’t even pretend we are a community based on anything but Christ! We do not make jokes about Jello or coffee or the green hymnal. We don’t know or enjoy the same hymns. We worship in English, but our hearts pray in many different languages. We come with varying denominational commitments (or none at all). We are baptized as infants, as children, and as adults. And we come to the table for the first time as infants, and as children, and as adults!

With so many differences—differences that have given birth to entirely new denominations—one might wonder how Redeemer has managed to exist. But when we gather on Sunday morning, or Wednesday evening, in Jesus’ name, we know that he is here, too.   Christ in, with, and among us, makes us a community. As the American Catholic activist Dorothy Day said, “We have all known the long loneliness and we have learned that the only solution is love and that love comes with community.”

In Christ, we are a community. What a gift! And yes, what a challenge.

We won’t always get it right. We won’t always agree. We will even hurt each other. But we trust in the sure and certain promises of Jesus Christ, who said “Wherever two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them.” We give thanks for his presence among us, and pray that we can continue to be a place where, in spite of our differences, all can flourish and grow through the love of God in Christ Jesus. Amen.