Sunday's Sermon

Matthew 18:15-20

I played football with Darrin and Gil. Our lockers were pretty close to each other. From 3:30 to 6 o’clock Monday through Friday we were around each other. We also had first period algebra together which meant we started the day together and we ended the day together. The problem was Darrin and Gil didn’t like each other. My job was to be in the middle. I sat between them in first period and unfortunately (or fortunately depending on how you look at it) I was between them in the locker room too.

I don’t know what it was that made Darrin and Gil not like each other. They had a lot in common. In fact, they had most things in common. They were the same age, had similar interests, and the biggest thing they had in common is that they didn’t like each other. The problem might have been that they were too much alike and the things they didn’t like about themselves were amplified in each other.

I didn’t know what the problem was. This was years before Dr. Phil ever came on television.

Somewhere around the third week of school, something happened. I don’t remember what it was, I’m not even sure I knew what it was then, but something happened to escalate the tension between Darrin and Gil. I know because I had to sit between them. I was the peacemaker. I don’t know about you, but that job has been given to me all my life – peacemaker. If there was conflict in the family, my job was to go and smooth things over. If friends in school were having problems, I was sent to mediate a truce.

But with Darrin and Gil, I decided to take a peacemaking vacation. First of all they were older and bigger than I was so I wasn’t going to get in the middle of them. If they wanted to throw angry glances at each other – go ahead. If they wanted to snort or grunt every time the other one said something – knock yourself out. If they wanted to fight – let ‘em fight.

And that’s what they did. Like I said, I don’t remember what started the escalation but something was said or something was done that changed the tension in the classroom to an appointment made for a fight. Which, by the way, now that I think about it, it’s simply amazing how they arranged the fight. They actually scheduled it.

“How about Thursday afternoon?”
”No, I can’t then; I’ve got to go to the dermatologist. What about Wednesday?”
“No, my mom is taking me to buy some new shoes.”

You would have thought they were scheduling a play date and not a fight.

I think they finally agreed on Wednesday. Gil got his mom to buy him shoes on another day. As soon as the bell rang, Darrin, Gil, and about 30 other people went out to some field to fight. I didn’t go, because I knew it would be my luck that the police would come and somehow I would be in the one to get in trouble. Uh-uh. Not me.

I didn’t have to go because I knew the next morning I would have the play by play. And I did. Gil came into first period with a black eye. Darrin didn’t look too hot either. Neither one of them said anything. And nothing changed. I sat between them and didn’t speak to each other. In locker room, they didn’t look at each other. And when they had to talk to one another, their words were not all warm and fuzzy. In other words, nothing changed between them.

Now this story is one of millions of after school backyard fights. It happens every day. It starts when we are in preschool and someone gets our spot in the sand box and we start to scream and complain and fight then. Then the issues change but the behavior does not. Even if we earn diplomas, things do not change. Even if we have careers, we are never too far from the sandbox. And even if our names are not Darrin or Gil, we still know what it feels like to not like someone.

We know what it’s like to cut our eyes and shoot daggers from our corneas and grunt or snort or roll our eyes when the say something or do something. We know what’s like to gossip and talk about them and secretly, or not so secretly, rejoice when they stumble or fail.

And even though we may no longer arrange for fist fights after school, our methods have evolved, or shall I say devolved, into passive aggressive swipes and attacks.

Friday morning I went outside while it was still cool and pulled out my lawn mower with the plan of cutting the grass before the Tropical Storm rains came in. Being the expert mechanic that I am (I’m pausing to let the absurdity of that statement sink in) I checked the gas, kicked the tires, and cranked it up. When I did every Roman Catholic in my neighborhood came outside because there was so much white smoke coming from the lawn mower you would have thought a new pope had been elected.

Well I didn’t know what the problem was, but the more the thing smoked the angrier I became. The old defective lawn mower, I said under my breath. I’m going to write a strongly worded letter to Sears about this, I ranted. Now I can’t cut the grass. Now I’ve got to get a new lawn mower, now this and now that, until it finally dawned on me that there is a reason the lawn mower is smoking.

One day after church years ago, a woman that was known for conflict and negativity was giving me an ear full about something. I don’t even remember what it was about but I do remember that it was so silly and insignificant that it couldn’t have been the real issue.
“Why are you so angry?” I asked.
And she didn’t know what to say.

Don’t you think we are like lawn mowers? We get all cranked up and start spewing smoke and sputtering and we get all hot or someone else is pouring out smoke and exhaust and we get angry or hurt and it rarely occurs to us to ask – what is causing the smoke? What is the real problem?

In the 18th chapter of Matthew, Jesus builds something incredible for us.

At the beginning of the chapter he says that we must become like little children. I used to assume that he meant we needed to have the simple and profound trust and faith as a child does – but now I wonder if he means we are to become like children in how we deal with each other. I’ve never heard a five-year-old gossip. Every toddler I’ve met has had the trait of honesty – it may be brutal honesty, but it’s honesty none the less.
Then Jesus says that we are not to be stumbling blocks for others. If there is something that we do or say that hinders another in their spiritual growth – don’t do it.

Next he tells the story of the lost sheep, remember the 99 sheep that were in the fold and one wandered off and the shepherd left the 99 to recover the 1?

And finally he comes to today’s lesson in dealing with people in the church who sin against us. At first glance, we can read today’s lesson as Jesus telling us how to deal with conflict, and it’s a good lesson: if someone sins against us, go to them. Talk to them. Don’t let it simmer, don’t stew. Deal with it. Face to face. In person. In private. If there is no resolution, then take someone else with you and try to resolve it. If that doesn’t work, then bring the whole church in. And if that doesn’t work, then let them go.

At first glance it seems like Jesus is saying three strikes and you’re out. If they don’t listen to you, strike one. If they don’t listen to two of you, strike two. If they don’t listen to the church, strike three and you’re out.

But in the context of the whole chapter, I think he’s saying something else.

If someone sins against us, Jesus says; if someone hurts us by their words or their actions. If they are gossiping or engaging in passive-aggressive warfare or if they are just down right mean and ugly – find out why.

Find out why there is smoke pouring from their hearts. Not because you’re trying to diagnose them, but because you love them. Conflict and anger and hurtful words and actions come from brokenness. Smoke coming from a machine is the result of brokenness.

And the entire 18th chapter of Matthew’s gospel is about Jesus saying to us – love each other. Love each other the way children love each other. Don’t do anything to bring someone down. If they stray away from the group – risk and go find them and bring them back. And if they are acting out – love them into mending the brokenness.

And of course, that goes for us, too.

When we act out, when we stew, when we gossip, when we smoke and sputter – there’s too much oil in the tank or there’s not enough. Something is not working right. There is brokenness.

It’s going to happen. It’s happening now. For all of us. That is the human condition. But the divine response is for us to love each other enough to seek healing in each other. My job is to help you heal what’s broken and you’re job is to help me heal too.

That’s part of our baptismal covenant with God and with each other. And that is the command from Christ.

I haven’t seen Darrin or Gil in over ten years. I don’t know if they are still mad at each other or not. I do know that their backyard school fight didn’t solve anything. And fighting, gossiping, and inwardly stewing never does.
If we love each other, then we’ll be open and honest. If we love each other we’ll work for peace and reconciliation at all times and between all people. If we love each other, then we’ll seek to see the brokenness in each other and work to be instruments of healing.

If we love each other.

And maybe that should be our prayer; not that we’ll know how to deal with conflict or difficult people or in other words broken people; but that we love.

And in our loving – may we care enough to ask. And in our asking, may we love enough to listen. And in our listening, may we be patient enough to understand. And in our understanding, may we be wise enough to love all over again.

Let us pray:
Lord, make us instruments of your peace. Where there is
hatred, let us sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where
there is discord, union; where there is doubt, faith; where
there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where
there is sadness, joy. Grant that we may not so much seek to
be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand;
to be loved as to love. For it is in giving that we receive; it is
in pardoning that we are pardoned; and it is in dying that we
are born to eternal life. Amen.