Moving Forward Together

In the 18^th chapter of Matthew’s gospel, we read advice Jesus gave about how to handle troubled personal relationships.He has come down from the Mount of Transfiguration, a glorious moment, and has turned his sights toward Jerusalem. Difficult challenges lie ahead for his disciples. He knows that times will come when they are tired, confused, or afraid. Like any family, this band of brothers and sisters will experience times of conflict. Like any social network, theirs will need cool heads, calm hearts, and guidelines for developing personal happiness and promoting the common good.Here are the policy guidelines he recommends:In the words of the famous Bible scholar William Barclay, these guidelines constitute one of “the most difficult passages to interpret in the whole of Matthew’s gospel.”^[1] Through the centuries, this passage has been a model for Christian conflict resolution. Church discipline in our Presbyterian Book of Order has been shaped in obvious ways by Jesus’ words. My old professor Tom Long writes about our model: “Its most impressive feature is how persistent and time consuming it is …. Nobody is written off in haste, no one is fired on the spot, no one slams the door in another’s face in rage; to the contrary, a sea of energy is expended trying, time and again, to make peace …. The whole process is focused on the restoration of the offender, not revenge for the offended.”^[2]This policy seems like so much work. You know it’s hard work if you’ve been involved in similar work

• while in family counseling or family court,
• personnel management or union negotiations,
• or the judiciary processes of the larger Presbyterian Church.

Why does Jesus call us to such a difficult path? One way to answer that question is to point again to the best-known verse in this passage: “For where two or three                      are gathered together in my name, there I am in their midst.”Barbara Brown Taylor says:^[3]I was definitely looking for some connections between this text  and the real world when I chose to attend an event on Wednesday night  at Washington University. It was sponsored by the Danforth Center on Religion and Politics, and featured a guided interview with former Senator, United Nations ambassador, and Episcopal priest John Danforth. As he joked, when you officiate the chancellor’s wedding and the center is named after you, the deck is stacked in your favor that you’ll receive an invitation to speak. Among other things, Danforth restated some themes that have defined both his political career and his ministry, including

• the thought that the word “religion” is based on a Latin root that means “to bind things together,”
• that according to the his letter to the Colossians, the Apostle Paul says of Jesus “He himself is before all things, and in him all things hold together,”
• and that in both religion and politics, one of our biggest problems today is that too many people are working in divisive ways that are unhealthy for the common good.

Danforth suggests that the path of moving forward together involves things like a “generosity of spirit” about the policies and tactics proposed for achieving broadly shared goals. Instead of emphasizing only the differences between perspectives, and assuming the worst about the motives of our opponents, we would do better to emphasize points of agreement. Danforth described an era he knows is gone, but hopes is not lost forever, when politicians engaged in social interaction, when it was possible for him to invite Democratic senator Tom Eagleton to sit in an honored place at the family dinner following Danforth’s swearing-in ceremony. Danforth warmly remembers that during the dinner, Tom turned to him, and said, “I bet you wish your father could be here,” and how in that moment of compassion, a relationship developed that would allow them to work in bi-partisan ways.The influence of a pastor and mentor was most evident in Danforth’s memory of George L. Cadigan, who was bishop of the Episcopal diocese of Missouri when Danforth was ordained to the priesthood. With obvious warmth in his voice, Danforth remembered the way that Bishop Cadigan ended every letter with the words,  “I am your friend.” Then Danforth wondered with us, what if we made a point of saying to those with whom we have an antagonistic relationship, “I am your friend.” He said that in the difficult and sometimes toxic atmosphere we find ourselves in, if you know someone as a friend, you can get things done.At this point, Danforth’s philosophy seems remarkably similar to someone else whose ministry intersected with public policy.[4]Healthy relationships are so vital that Jesus offers very explicit guidelines about what to do when there’s conflict.You might even say that they constitute a command: to take a risk, to reach out to one another in friendship, to offer and seek forgiveness, to allow the power of His love to transform us, and make us whole.NOTES[1] William Barclay, The Gospel of Matthew, Vol. 2, in “The Daily Study Bible,” Philadelphia: The Westminster Press, 1975, p. 187.[2] Thomas G. Long, Matthew, Westminster Bible Companion, Philadelphia: Westminster John Knox Press, 1997, p. 210.[3] Barbara Brown Taylor, “Family Fights,” in The Seeds of Heaven: Sermons on the Gospel of Matthew, Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2004, p. 84.[4] Martin Luther King, Jr., Strength to Love, as cited in Pulpit Resource, 5 Sept. 1999, p. 41.