Tuesday, September 9, 2014

Conflict and Church - awkward much?



Matthew 18:15-20

15“If another member of the church sins against you, go and point out the fault when the two of you are alone. If the member listens to you, you have regained that one. 16But if you are not listened to, take one or two others along with you, so that every word may be confirmed by the evidence of two or three witnesses. 17If the member refuses to listen to them, tell it to the church; and if the offender refuses to listen even to the church, let such a one be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector. 18Truly I tell you, whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven. 19Again, truly I tell you, if two of you agree on earth about anything you ask, it will be done for you by my Father in heaven. 20For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them.”

 With my parishes history with conflict avoidance and the inevitable results, this was never going to be an easy text to preach on. I was pretty happy with the results... unfortunately, I then did my back on the Saturday and never got to preach!

Never mind, I learned from it anyway.



Did anyone else find themselves shifting awkwardly in their seats during the gospel reading today? Or were there feelings of smug self-satisfaction that any conflict in your life is handled with the upmost care and discretion? Another question for you - How do we, as a nation, as a church, as a parish community and as individuals, handle conflict?

I suspect if we are to be honest, the answer to all of these is – not very well.

We do not handle conflict well.

Let me be very clear– conflict in and of itself is a normal and healthy part of a Christian life. It is through conflict that we are able to grow and mature in our faith and practice. But just as the Christian Church attracts broken people (for Jesus has come for us as we are, calling the grieving  and the suffering and the sinners), so it suffers from the sin of that brokenness which often expresses itself in ugly and shameful ways within conflict situations.

We are rather expert at spotting those rabble rousers around us, identifying their destructive habits, and condemning the ways they seek to destabilize our communities. Noticing when we are engaged in these very same behaviors is another story. After all, some of those troublesome people are us
The context of this passage of scripture is particularly interesting. If we look at the verses that immediately precede it, we see the parable of the lost sheep. The shepherd in this story did not give up after a cursory hour or so of looking – he persisted through the night until the sheep was found. We are told in the passages afterwards that we need to forgive not 7 times, but 70 times 7. So we are looking at conflict resolution seen through a lens of seeking out and forgiveness.

There is some debate as to whether these words are in fact the authentic voice of Jesus. In some ways this doesn’t matter – the wisdom is of God even if the words are not straight from Jesus mouth. I think it is important to note this though because the words given by Mathew to Jesus about casting out a member of the community seem not to reflect the character of Jesus as we know him.  Various interpretations try to use the placement of this text as a warning to only apply what is basically excommunication in extreme circumstances; others look to how Jesus treats tax collectors and gentiles throughout the scriptures and sees it as an instruction to embrace any stray members into the fold. Another view is sees these tensions as due to the incorporation of conflicting traditions in the history of the community’s development, or to applying them to different cases. It is clear, however, that if Matthew’s church does not already have a procedure for disciplining dangerously errant members, one is here provided, spoken in the name of Jesus. It supposes a community where the concern is more for the group as a whole than for any individual members – a concept totally foreign to the modern western world. It encourages, indeed mandates, pastoral intervention that goes further than just forgiveness and advice. It sees a way of life where Church is more than a once a week event, but a constant and aware community that exists beyond individual differences.

Conflict seen through this lens becomes a normal and accepted part of living in community. It is not a cause for hidden aggression behind closed doors, where power imbalances and personality types can overwhelm. Nor does it allow the whispered rumours and malicious gossip that can easily pervade a community, even if only encouraged by a few. Conflict becomes an opportunity to grow in love for one another, to embrace and be opened to a differing point of view, even if there is no clean and complete resolution. We are not called to conformity, but to community. There is room for many interpretations and debates, as long as they are start with love and finish with reconciliation.
When we are gathered here today, we take the opportunity before sharing in communion to give each other the peace. Have you ever thought about what that means? I learned from a slightly unexpected source. When I was in formation I spent 6 months intensive training in a small group with a certain gentleman who was, in many ways, polar opposite to me. It was a hard time for all of us I think, possibly especially for him, as an alpha males type in a group including myself, a catholic religious, a Baptist healer and a few other strong women. On one occasion our training involved attending an ecumenical ANZAC day remembrance ceremony within the hospital we were placed, and he chose not to attend. Being the forthright group we were, there was no hesitation in questioning (and challenging) his reasons and motivation. When we gathered again soon afterwards for a Eucharist, I asked him how he could move on so quickly from the oh so close to brawl we had just had. He looked very surprised and said, “Josie, when we come together for communion we are brothers and sisters in Christ. It doesn’t matter what I think of you at that moment – we are joined as one in the body of Christ”.

His words have stuck with me since. We are offering to each other the peace of God. This is not a social event. This is not a token shaking of hands. We are putting aside our differences and reconciling with one another before we partake in the body and blood of Christ. If we are not truly able to share God’s peace, how can we be fit to share God’s body? Could this be a time when we should be actively seeking out those with whom we have struggled and offering them our hand with love?

True peace is not a burying of difference, hiding it away until we can take it out to peruse at our leisure. It is not some kind of false martyrdom, pushing aside our needs in order to keep the road smooth and the boat quiet. True peace is knowing that no matter our differences, we have been made one with Christ. True peace is knowing that I will not let conflict hide in my heart and escape through belittling, passive aggressive comments or explode with verbal or emotional violence.

If God is to be found in relationship, then evil is to be found in those relationships when broken and not repaired. If evil is found in maliciousness and hatred, God is found in forgiveness and restoration. We have an obligation to make reconciliation of relationship a priority in our personal AND public lives. As a Church, we are required to embody this vision of community for the benefit of the wider world.


Parenting FAIL

We all have our moments, or so I have heard. I had one the other day, and it wasn't pretty.

My beautiful girl, my Abigail, who I love possibly more than any other human on the planet (talk to me about Will when he is older and easier to love! Only joking bubba, I love you too) is almost too easy to parent. She is amendable to suggestion, kind, considerate, does a minimum of whining and is generally easy to please. Sometimes I worry about HOW easy to please, or rather EAGER to please, but her school teachers assure me she is very capable of standing up for herself.

My Abigail is a lot like me. So much so that sometimes I forget that in fact she is NOT me. This became very apparent when I started teaching her violin last year.

At first we were fine. We both had fun, I was impressed how fast she learned, she was keen and ready to go. After she learned the basics though it started to get a little more... fraught. Lately we have had conflict over practicing violin, something she has never had trouble with before. And I pushed back, becoming more demanding, correcting every mistake and insisting she repeat the incorrect bars over and over again. I became short - she became whiny. In the end I lost it, yelled at her (which I very rarely do) and sent her crying to her room.

I asked that oh so rhetorical parental question, "Do you even WANT to learn violin?" to which she answered "... what do YOU want?".

And I missed it.

"I want you to learn!" I sputtered. "But if you're not going to take it seriously I don't know why I bother!".

I am ashamed.

Perhaps it is because I have seen friends go through this with their children that I was able to pull myself together within a few minutes. I apologised, and explained to my love that although I would love for her to play and enjoy violin like I do, that I was not making it fun for her and that that wasn't fair on either of us. This was brought into stark relief by the fact that the mother of the student I had taught just that afternoon had expressed to me how much her daughter enjoyed her lessons because I never got cross and always made it a positive experience for her daughter. Whoops.

We decided that we would switch to piano for a while, and then maybe next year we would look at finding a different violin teacher for her because Mummy expects her to be perfect. Abby thought this was hilarious - "But nobody's perfect Mummy!". Yes darling, that's the point.

She had a piano lesson this afternoon. It was great. She asked to do violin tomorrow.

We'll see.