
Cedar Valley Lutheran Church
0
Pentecost 15A Sept. 6, 2026 Matt. 18:15-20
Jesus gives us some very specific instructions about what the church should do if one in the family of faith falls into sin. It is almost a “how to” list taking us step by step through the process.
Step one confronts the issue one on one. If that doesn’t work go to step two and try intervening with one or two others. And if that doesn't work go to step three and involve the whole community in resolving the wrong that has been identified. And, finally, if that fails, go to step four and cut them off and kick them out as if they were a gentile or a tax collector. If nothing else these seem like straightforward rules of engagement that when used as only a legalistic guide to follow often causes a lot of pain and injustice and abuse.
I want to consider another way of looking at this. Instead, I think the point is less about having a set of rules to follow and more about regaining a relationship with a brother or sister. I think the main concern doesn’t have anything to do with settling disputes and differences but creating an environment where Christ’s presence continues to bring forgiveness and healing and joy. Basically, Jesus is telling us to do the hard work of being responsible for each other. But why? Why should we walk the extra mile with those who sin? Why should we go sticking our noses in somebody else’s business?
One answer seems obvious. We need to do it for their sake. We need to do it for their reconciliation and wellbeing. We need to do it so that they can again be connected with God and live in a positive, healthy, and life-giving relationship with God’s people.
But there is another reason we need to step into these uncomfortable situations. We need to do it for our sake as well. We need to do it because as Paul writes in his first letter to the Corinthians, that, in Christ, we unique and important parts of a single body and when one part of the body suffers, the whole body suffers. We are intricately interwoven with each other and we need to understand that whatever blesses one, blesses all, and whatever diminishes one, diminishes the whole.
But there is more, lest we think this is meant only for somebody else – somebody who has done something really wrong and requires confrontation. The fact is that none of us are perfect – we have all screwed up. We could all use a visit from a sister or brother in the faith to lovingly help us see where it is that we have fallen and failed and who will compassionately hold us accountable.
Let me put it another way. Our gospel reading for today closes with these familiar words of Jesus, “for where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I among them.” The thing is that sin always leaves a person alone. And by leaving our siblings alone in their sin we are robbing them of the love of God that comes through Jesus who makes himself known where two or three are gathered and, therefore, where the communion of saints is present. Because, you see, without my brother, I am alone, and without me, my sister is alone, and without community Christ is not present.
I don’t need to tell you that there is so much going on in our world right now that is troubling and overwhelming. And this is why and this is when the world desperately needs us to be the body of Christ. Yes, being an authentic community is hard work and it’s risky and is loaded with challenges. But it is also powerful and healing and a tremendous witness to the power of love and forgiveness and grace. And, it is worth it, it is always worth it.
And when we grow weary of following the path Jesus has set before us, it is important to remember and remind each other that we have Jesus’ promise that each and every time we try, he is with us … instructing us in the ways of love, urging us on, forgiving us, and using us as agents of reconciliation and love and peace wherever we go.
NAME THE HURT Steve Garnaas Holmes
Well, don’t go for “sin” or “fault”;
it’s too easy, and useless, to judge,
but pay attention to “hurt.”
Defy that voice of false politeness
and the repression of the truth.
If someone hurts you,
go toward them, not away,
and name the hurt.
Neither hide nor retaliate, even politely,
simply, gently tell the truth as you understand it.
Claim your part of it,
even if just to receive it,
and to give them access to their part as well.
Not to nail them, not to relieve yourself,
but because you love them.
Be prepared to listen to their journey, and to your own.
Think of it as opening a door
to a place neither of you have gone before,
and can’t without the other.
Think of it as opening the door to that Jesus place.
Imagine how refreshing the air would be
in a community of open, caring honesty
without that hidden bucket of hurt
fermenting under the kitchen sink.
In the dark places where our hurts lie
is the tomb from with Christ rises, alive.
The very Christ who
where two or three are gathered in his love,
is among us.
Pentecost 7B July 7, 2024 Mark 6:1-13
We see in our gospel reading for today the continuation of a theme that has been running through the life and ministry of Jesus from the beginning. Again and again, Jesus has been forced to deal with rejection: rejection for what he teaches, rejection for what he does, and rejection for who he is.
The Pharisees criticize him for healing on the Sabbath. His disciples chastise him for sleeping in the middle of a stormy sea. Even his mother and his family try to get him to stop working so hard because his zealousness is proving to be an embarrassment to them. And today, Jesus returns to his hometown of Nazareth and it happens again. The people who sat next to him in worship, who celebrated with him at festivals, who watched him play and grow up, can’t accept what he has become.
At first, listening to Jesus teach in the synagogue, these family friends and neighbors are astonished by his eloquence and spiritual insight. They are impressed: “Where did he learn all of this?” they ask each other. “How did he get to be this good?” they wonder. “When did he get so wise all of a sudden?” they question. “After all, he is one of us. Up until recently he was just a local handyman, patching our roofs, framing our doors, and fixing our wobbly tables and chairs.” What happened? Where did Jesus get all of this?
Well, the answer to their questions is that he got all of this from them. He got it from his parents and siblings and relatives. He got it from his teachers at the synagogue. He got it from the values kept by his neighbors and from the stories he learned of his hometown heroes and his local scallywags. Jesus, in essence, is a mirror, showing them who they are and the role they played in shaping his identity and his place in the world. And the same is true for us. So much of what it is that makes us who we are and the things we do is shaped by our environment. And the history we carry and the people who have left a mark on our lives play a big part in our identity.
But their amazement suddenly shifts and they take offense at him. Someone in the crowd – perhaps a jealous neighbor, or maybe a childhood rival, or possibly the village gossip who loves to stir up trouble – questions the fact that Jesus has stepped out of his lane and ignored his place in the community. “He was one of us and now he thinks he’s something more – he has become something we didn’t expect him to be – something that doesn’t fit into the box we put him in.” And their doubts leave him powerless to do what he would love to do for them – what he has done for so many others.
But before we judge them too harshly, let’s imagine that we are also standing among his homies wondering the same thing ourselves. Like them, how often have we missed the holy among us because we could only see what we wanted to see? How often have we missed the new thing God is doing in Jesus because what we could only see is the old and familiar? How often have we not allowed Jesus to surprise us?
I remember something a wise friend told Pam and me when we were newly married. She said that we should surprise each other every once in a while with something unexpected. That surprise, she said, keeps the intrigue and the mystery of love alive in a relationship. I believe that part of the gospel mission for us involves an element of surprise. Because our openness to being surprised, keeps us open to the intrigue and mystery of God’s deep love for us so that it doesn’t get old and boring and meaningless.
My prayer for you, my friends, is that when you listen to Jesus you can hear a new thing God is doing underneath the comfortable traditions and the familiar habits of your faith. I pray you will be surprised by the mystery of the abundant life God has for you in Jesus – a life filled with love and grace … with mercy and forgiveness … with freedom and peace. May you have the eyes to see and the ears to hear the surprising good news God has for you in Jesus Christ, our Lord.
