To the count of 3

Sermon about Matthew 18:15-20

What do humans and wolves have in common?

Right, we howl at 8 pm. At least, we used to for a while in appreciation of the essential workers. Somehow, this has stopped.

But that’s not what I am referring to. Humans and wolves can get hurt when they fight about their place in the world. Yet, often they are smart and use their communication skills instead. And stay safe and healthy.

That’s what I learned at the Oakland Zoo in January when we first visited it. So far, it’s also been our last visit, thanks to COVID-19.

A wolf’s rule according to a poster at the Oakland Zoo is: “Talk more, fight less.” It basically summarizes today’s Gospel. “Talk more, fight less.” Sounds easy.

At churches, we are generally good at talking. Apart from politicians I am sure church people spend the most hours talking to each other. It’s our daily bread. Be it at coffee hour, at meetings, during the service with one’s neighbor or using the chat, we talk. Or at social hour.

Seriously, if you haven’t joined us for that yet, you have missed out on the best stories ever. Like somebody in this congregation has a real skeleton in their closet. Not a Halloween one, a real one. That’s the kind of stuff we hear about on Wednesday nights. Come, check it out.

Ok, I got sidetracked a little bit. So, at church we like to talk a lot. That’s a great start for sure to prevent serious conflicts. And yet, sometimes, we just get into it and start talking about others instead of with one another. It just happens. Not like we mean bad or anything, but it can be entertaining to let off steam or to share some friendly gossip. After all, we are just people.

Well, Jesus sees the people in us. And he wants us to be his church. Which always amazes me in the first place, that he trusts us. He sees our potential. He sees his church in us. This church is supposed to be a community that nurtures honest dialogue. Not behind other people’s back but in your face. Face to face.

If another member of the church annoys or mistreats you, talk to that person when the two of you are alone. Call her or text him to start the conversation. Meet and sort things out. If there is something you want the pastor to change or do, talk to the pastor directly. Which would be me. Things sound more dramatic when a third person talks to you about it.

What if that conversation doesn’t lead to anything? What if the other person doesn’t admit their mistake? Jesus is pretty clear about it. Keep talking. Keep trying. Take one or two witnesses with you and sort it out.

And if nothing changes whatsoever? Tell it to the church. Again, not behind anybody’s back but open and honest. Talk more, fight less.

Yet, something is missing in this interpretation of the “Matthew 18-advice-model”. Talking isn’t yet a conversation. Entering a true dialogue implies the possibility of change on both sides. And that implies less talking and more listening. Silence is golden, right?

As a pastor who loves to preach anytime, anywhere, I had to work hard on my listening skills. And I still do. When disagreeing with someone it just is so much easier to go into a monologue and lecture somebody. Listening to my own arguments builds my own confidence. My cheeks blush and at the end of an argument I might feel stronger and smarter than before. Especially if I see others nodding in agreement. What a good feeling.

Except, that it probably didn’t change anything. Because nobody likes to be lectured. Instead, people tune out or get agitated. Conflict is in the air. Polarization over wedging issues. The divide seems to get bigger and bigger. Because we listen less and verbally fight more. Because we often don’t take the time to understand the deep emotions and stories behind people’s convictions. Because we usually talk to judge and win, when disagreeing with others.

And at a first glimpse Jesus seems to support such an approach. If the scolded person doesn’t listen at all: Let such a one be to you as a Gentile and tax collector.

This story has often been cited as an example of how to do church discipline. Aka how to kick people out of our congregations. Let’s talk once, twice, a third time, and out you are. It’s the historic version of “On the count of 3…”

“On the count of 3…”, Jesus will treat us as a Gentile and tax collector. What sounds like a threat is actually quite reassuring. After all, Jesus feasted with tax collectors and healed Gentiles. Which twists the whole story.

So, the worst thing that can happen is that we will have to spend more time with anyone annoying us. We are asked to get to know that person. We are asked to listen deeply. To actually understand what’s going on. To not give up on each other.

It’s a story about how to save a relationship, not a guide how to officially unfriend someone on Facebook. Which has become a thing as of lately. With many people proudly announcing that they will unfriend anyone with a certain opinion. It mostly happens over heated topics like current politics when people start type-screaming at each other until they feel totally estranged. With people giving up on each other.

And I get it. It’s much less nerve racking to not deal with difficult opinions. Life is wonderfully peaceful in a bubble. I guess, that’s why I enjoy living in Berkeley so much.

When you unfriend someone on Facebook that has consequences. You are obviously not friends anymore. You can’t write on each other’s timelines anymore and so they can’t comment on your posts anymore. But so can’t you. Unfriending someone means to keep each other’s worlds shut to each other, quite literally. We don’t have to see each other’s thoughts anymore, we don’t have to deal with each other anymore. Except that we do. Because we share one country or at least one world. And because in the end most of us want the same: To live peacefully, to make a living, to protect the people we love. To be seen and heard.

Now, as usual, Jesus picked us, his church, to go down the windy and bumpy road of love and peace. Unfriending is hardly part of that path unfortunately. Instead, it’s a road full of followers of Jesus who look different from us, speak different from us, even believe different from us. Do we believe and affirm that even those who disagree with us on important issues are nevertheless followers of Jesus? Can we commit to going to great lengths – even of tolerating those who disagree with us about who should be our next president! – to engage each other in conversation, hoping that we listen to one another? It’s a tough call in an election year, when even wearing a mask is a partisan topic, I realize.

But can we imagine that the goal of our community is to nurture relationships inside and outside our congregation? With people from all the ends of the political spectrum.

Where we don’t read each other’s actions through the lens of partisan commitments but actively commit to seeing one another as people who deserve our care and compassion. What if we assess our words, every single one of them and our actions, and how we spend our time according to the simple but huge question, “does this build up the body of Christ and nurture Christian relationships or not?”

Such an authentic community is hard to come by. It’s work. But it’s worth it. Because when you find it, it’s like discovering a little bit of heaven on earth. It’s like experiencing the reality of God’s communal fellowship and existence in your midst. And, as Jesus promises, when you gather in this way -- with honesty and integrity, even when it’s hard -- amazing things can happen because Jesus is with you, right there, in your very midst, forming and being formed by your communal sharing.

To the count of 3, Jesus says. Meaning, what follows is what always follows when God gets a say. It’s grace. It’s another chance and yet another. Because God doesn’t unfriend his people, no matter how wicked our words can be. God keeps trying and trying. God keeps throwing us a lifeline. That’s what he promised us in our baptism. To never give up on us. So that we can try to stick to God and the people around us. Amen.