It happens in the worst of churches; it happens in the best of churches. Apparently it was happening back in the late first century of the church, when Matthew was writing his Gospel; and I would guess that it’s happening in some church right now, in the early 21^st century. It seems like one thing we can say with confidence is this: Wherever two or three are gathered in the name of the church, there is conflict in the midst of them. The question for the church is never ‘Will there be conflict?’ but ‘How will we handle the conflict that we will eventually have?’

I’m happy to say that – as far as I know – we have no live, active, or difficult conflicts within our church community at the moment. In fact, maybe it’s just me and my sunny disposition about things, but in 15 years of service at this church there have only been rare occasions of conflict as far as I can tell. So, I don’t want you to interpret today’s topic as though I am trying to address an ongoing situation without actually naming it. The truth is that today’s reading from Matthew is the scheduled reading for us on the 3 year cycle of readings called the Common Lectionary. And it is our joy to be able to hear the Gospel of Matthew as it pertains to conflict, in a moment when there is not a live conflict on hand. That way, we can listen and learn from the gospel without using this text as yet another tool in our arsenal to attack someone with whom we are in conflict.

Our reading from Matthew’s gospel gives us a rare look at what some scholars call the situation ‘behind’ the biblical text. This teaching on what to do when a brother or sister of the community has “sinned against us” is unique to Matthew’s gospel. Matthew is the only gospel that has the word “church” in it. That indicates that the community for whom Matthew is writing his gospel has a greater developed sense of who and what the “church” is than what we might find in, say, Mark’s gospel which seems to have been written 15-20 years earlier. And one of the things that defines the church in Matthew’s writing is that it is a place where conflict happens. And when conflict happens, Matthew describes a process by which the church can name it, confront it, and deal with the possible outcomes that happen when reconciliation is possible. So, let’s look at the process which Jesus names in this text – which is not complicated by any means – and then listen to how Matthew situates conflict within the larger life of the church, before asking how this teaching about “conflict resolution” can become realized within our own community.

Jesus says that when a brother or sister offends us, the first step in resolving conflict is for the offended party to go to the offender directly and name the problem. The emphases in this first step are two: honesty and privacy. Honesty means that we do not pretend as if offense has not happened. Even if this pretense comes from good intentions, it only buries the offense and the pain that the offense has brought. Honesty is the willingness to open the wound in order that healing can occur. But, this honesty is accompanied – in the first moment – by privacy. The ideal possibility is that an honest one-on-one conversation will air the grievance and offer the possibility of reconciliation. And Jesus names reconciliation as one of the two possible outcomes of such an honest, private confrontation. In the best of all worlds, Jesus says “If the offender listens, you have won that person over.” Beautiful.

But, Jesus says, there is another possibility. The person may not listen. In that case, the next step in the process if for the offended one to gather one or two persons as ‘witnesses,’ and to re-approach the offender. There is an ancient and beautiful use of the word ‘witness’ in this text. It goes back to a day when there was no hierarchical legal system in Israel’s community, so everything depended on the testimony of faithful witnesses. If one were selling another some land, if one were to marry another, if an adoption took place, there were not triplicate forms, no fine print, no courthouse that made the act official. There was the word of the parties involved and the testimony of two or three witnesses which had the effect of the rule of law. That is why one of the Ten Commandments says explicitly, “You shall not bear false witness.” Lying witnesses meant that there was no dependable legal system in place – it was all a matter of who was wiling to perjure themselves in order to gain advantage over another. True witnesses, then, were the foundation of justice and truth in the community. In Matthew’s community – after the destruction of Jerusalem and the breakdown of the Jewish community’s centralized system – the ancient form of two or three once again became the basis of establishing justice. The witnesses would be able to say, “Yes, the offended person went and named the grievance in this way.” And then it falls to the offender to respond.

If the offender sees the presence of witnesses and realizes that simple denial is no longer an option, the offender can respond well and reconciliation is a possibility. But, of course, some folks will resist a system that is based on honesty and privacy. In which case, Jesus says, it is time for the matter to leave the realm of privacy and to become an open matter for the whole community to respond. It is here that Matthew uses the term “church,” but it is not clear that the word Matthew is using had a specific religious meaning. It was a fairly common term for describing the community that is called together to act as one. And the matter now becomes this: Either the offender repents and is reconciled to the offended one, or the community determines the fate of the offender. The power of this moment is that the victim is not the one who determines the punishment or response. Everybody “has the victim’s back,” you could say. And the offender has the choice of either reconciling in order to remain a part of the community, or not. It is not a “lynch mob,” because the goal of the communal gathering is not vengeance. It is a “reconciliation mob,” offering the offender a chance to make things right.

But, of course, at each stage in the process Jesus has recognized the possibility that the offender will not repent, will not recognize the legitimacy of the issue, and will not choose to reconcile. So, Jesus says, if the offender will not listen to the “reconciliation mob,” then here is what the entire community is to do: Treat that one like a Gentile or a Tax Collector. And that is a curious verdict, particularly as it comes from one who was accused on many occasions of being altogether too open and friendly to Gentiles and Tax Collectors. “Treating someone as a Gentile and Tax Collector” is a loaded term in the Gospels. As far as I can tell, it means that there is no simple conclusion of locking someone out and throwing away the key. Whatever “shunning” or “dis-membering” might be implied by this process, it is never the final word. It is always in service of reconciling – a reconciliation built on honesty and repentance. It is no accident that what follows this text is a question from Simon Peter, asking how often one must forgive an offender. And the answer is “as many times as it takes.”

So, there we go. There was conflict in the early church and there was a process for naming the conflict, offering repentance and reconciliation, with openness and honesty. In many ways, standing behind this text we can see a marvelous example of how the early church practiced conflict resolution and took seriously how conflict can destroy a community. If we move and stand “in front” of the text, this is where we ask the question of how this text can be instructive for us today. Obviously, there are many ways that this text is far superior to how we customarily deal with conflict. What does not appear in this process is “sweeping the matter under the rug,” so that the burden of the issue stays on the victim. What does not appear is vengeance, where the offender has no recourse to make things right. And what does not appear is that the offender conscripts a group of supporters over here, while the offended does the same over there, so that what eventually transpires is a split within the community. That is the inflammatory tinder box that this process is trying to avoid. But, for all of its strengths, there is a degree of wisdom that we must exercise when trying to be faithful to this process.

For example, if a woman is being abused in her home, it is not biblical but irresponsible for us to say that her first step is to go privately and confront the abuser. And there are many cases, not just cases of abuse, where the dynamics of power between the offended and the offender suggests that the first step is not private confrontation, but at best some kind of mediated approach. Likewise, sometimes “offense” is a matter of perception, so a first step is to communicate perceptions as opposed to accuse. In other words, when we stand in front of the text and ask what it means for us in real life, this process cannot be a binding legalism for the church. There must always be an opportunity to exercise wisdom that frankly takes the dynamics of power and differences in perception into account. But, while we recognize the limitations of taking this process too literally, it really does contain a powerful word for us. It is not “Christian” to bear offense in silence. It is not “Christian” to maintain a veneer of happiness when there are true problems among us. It is not “Christian” to hold hands and sing a happy song when someone has been hurt. When we become “members” of a Christian community, we are committing ourselves to the responsibility implied in this text. As a forgiving community, with an eye toward reconciliation, we will be an honest community, witnessing to the truth for victims. May God give us the grace to be that kind of honest, reconciling community.