“Building a Community of Reconciliation”

Before I go to the second scripture reading, I want to give you a bit of background. The most important thing to realize is that worship is pretty much at the heart of everything in the Bible.  The Exodus is really the creation of the people of God, and what was the Exodus all about?  Allowing the people to go to Mt. Sinai to worship God.  David and Solomon, the two greatest kings in the history of Israel were called upon to build the Temple in Jerusalem and worship in the Temple became the focus of Israel’s religious life.  Many years later, when Jerusalem was destroyed by the Babylonians, the loss of the Temp was the greatest tragedy of all.  Israel openly wondered whether God had died, since they were no longer able to worship God in the Temple.  When the people of God returned to the homeland a hundred years later, rebuilding their place of worship became their top priority.  Worship is key - straight through the Old Testament, all the way to end of the New Testament in the book of Revelation, where all creation and human existence is brought to fulfillment as the throngs of humanity worship and sing praises to God for all time.  Worship is important: foundational to who we are as God’s people.  So listen and be amazed at these radical few words from Jesus:

          23So when you are offering your gift at the altar, if you remember that your brother or sister* has something against you, 24leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother or sister,* and then come and offer your gift. 25Come to terms quickly with your accuser while you are on the way to court* with him, or your accuser may hand you over to the judge, and the judge to the guard, and you will be thrown into prison. 26Truly I tell you, you will never get out until you have paid the last penny.

We can’t worship God – which is to say we can’t be rightly related to God - if we aren’t rightly related to each other.  And such reconciliation is sometimes difficult.  When we think about the hard parts of our faith, we are likely to think of Jesus’ teaching about the dangers of wealth, the prophetic call to transformative justice, or the requirement that we take up our cross and follow Jesus.  But in many ways, this may be the toughest feature of all.  We can’t be rightly related to God, if we aren’t rightly related to each other.

          This element of our faith, of course, goes against a whole lot of what passes for religion and spirituality in our society today.  If we ask the basic question that a man asked Jesus long ago – “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” – we are likely to get a variety of answers: “Accept Jesus Christ as your personal Lord and Savior,” or “Seek justice for the oppressed,” or “Find the divine within yourself.”  But you sure get the idea that something like this is much closer to the spirit of Jesus – “What must I do to inherit eternal life?”  “Well, think of  a person who has hurt you, in whatever way, or the person who feels you have hurt him or her – think of the person you don’t want to run into in a restaurant, the person who makes you feel bitter or defensive, or just plain angry for no good reason – you want eternal life?  You want to live in communion with God?  Then go, be reconciled to that person, and then the next one, and then the next, until you get to the end of the line – and there you will find God.”

        This is one way the twelve steps of Alcoholics Anonymous has things exactly right.  People who have recovered from alcoholism through AA have told me that the eighth and ninth steps of the process are the hardest, and most necessary of all: The twelve step wording is Step 8 - Make a list of all persons you have harmed, and become willing to make amends to them all. And Step 9 - Make direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.  The Biblical wording is “If you remember that your brother or sister* has something against you, 24leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother or sister,* and then come and offer your gift.”

        Not to romanticize a dreadful disease, but I find that many of those who have struggled with alcoholism and have been sober for years carry some little extra gravitas, a little more substance, a little less fluff, and in comes because they have had to face the truth about themselves by seeking reconciliation with others.  In AA this element of confession, making amends, and hopefully reconciliation is part of a process that is often quite literally a matter of life and death.  And the Bible doesn’t shrink back from naming reconciliation as a matter of life and death for us all.  Without it, we may be alive, but we won’t be really living. 

          Jesus’ metaphor comes from the language of debt and finance:

Come to terms quickly with your accuser while you are on the way to court* with him, or your accuser may hand you over to the judge, and the judge to the guard, and you will be thrown into prison. 26Truly I tell you, you will never get out until you have paid the last penny.

        Perhaps Jesus put things so boldly, so starkly, because he knew that real reconciliation is hard.  The process is just plain emotionally uncomfortable, and for the most part, we would rather avoid it.  But it must not be avoided, and here we move into the tumultuous but unavoidable waters of human emotion.  The Bible doesn’t seem to care if we are the one who has hurt someone else, or are the one hurt – in either case, we are to initiate reconciliation.

        The most important thing, and the most difficult thing emotionally, is not to give up on having a real relationship with someone.  Giving up on the relationship is easy, but ultimately leaves us with no real relationships.  And there are many theologians, psychologists, therapists, and sociologists who say that is exactly what is happening more and more in our modern, individualistic world.  We have so little need to rely upon each other, and so many ways to distract ourselves and avoid relationships, even with those presumably closest to us, that many live basically alone, relationally, even if not physically.

This whole cluster of ideas – that we can’t be rightly related to God, if we don’t seek reconciliation with each other, that reconciliation is difficult, but necessary, and that it is all too easy to avoid, especially in the modern world – all that is why, every week, we have a part of our worship service called “Building a Community of Reconciliation.”  It is not “just liturgy.”  I believe it actually does something in our lives.  It at least opens a passageway to reconciliation, and if we let it, it can be the balm of reconciliation we need, with each other, and with God, and even, by way of example, with everything other important person in our lives.  By making this part of our worship, week in and week out, we learn to live with the habits of reconciliation: confession, forgiveness, and the offer of peace, in the name of Jesus Christ.

Now because I am beginning my sabbatical in a couple of weeks, I want to talk about what building a community of reconciliation means for our relationship as congregation and pastor.  A pastoral sabbatical is mainly about renewal, and part of renewal is reconciliation.  It would be impossible for me to be a pastor of this congregation for seven years and be pastorally perfect.  I have not been perfect and I guess only God can decide just how imperfect I have been.  This makes me think of the lyrics from the musical “You’re a Good Man Charlie Brown.”  Lucy, with her psychologist hat on says:

I think what you need most of all, Charlie Brown, is to come
right out and admit all of the things that are wrong with you.

[CHARLIE BROWN]
All right, I'll try
I'm not very handsome or clever, or lucid,
I've always been stupid at spelling and numbers.
I've never been much playing football ir baseball
Or stickball, or checkers, or marbles, or ping-pong

I'm usually awful at parties and dances,
I stand like a stick or I cough, or I laugh,
Or I don't bring a present, or I spill the ice cream
Or I get so depressed that I stand and I scream...

Oh, how could there possibly be
One small person as thoroughly, totally, uttlerly
Blah as me.

[LUCY]
Well, that's ok for a starter.

[CHARLIE BROWN]
A starter?

[LUCY]
Certainly. You don't think that mentioning these few superficial
failings is going to do you any good, do you? Why, Charlie Brown,
You really have to delve.

You're stupid, self-centered and moody

[CHARLIE BROWN]
I'm moody

[LUCY]
You're terribly dull to be with

[CHARLIE BROWN]
Yes I am.
And nobody likes me,
Not Frieda, or Shermy, or Linus, or Schroeder-

[LUCY]
Or Lucy.

[CHARLIE BROWN]
Or Lucy.

[LUCY]
Or Snoopy.

[CHARLIE BROWN]
Or Sn-
Wait a minute. Snoopy likes me.

[LUCY]
He only pretends to like you becaus eyou feed him.
That doesn't count.

[CHARLIE BROWN]
Or Snoopy.
Oh why- was I born just to be
One small person as thoroughly, totally, utterly-

[LUCY]
Wait!
You're not very much of a person...

I have certainly angered and upset some people, but that my itself if not necessarily something to be sorry about, because I know you expect no less of me that to strive to embody the Gospel in my work among you, and you know that the Gospel sometimes upsets us all.  The problem is when I have disappointed, failed, and upset people, not by embodying the gospel, but by embodying my all too real shortcomings as a person and pastor.  Everybody screws up in their job, but the relationship between a pastor and a congregation in unusual, perhaps unique, because a pastor’s screw-ups sometimes affect people on a very personal level.

I have sometimes written or preached in a way that was not sufficiently sensitive to someone’s personal situation, and that has hurt people.  I have sometimes missed cues that someone needed a touch of friendship in a difficult time, and that has hurt people.  I have sometimes spoken inappropriately about people, failing to show due generosity about their intentions and motivations in difficult situations, and that has hurt people.  I have sometimes failed to find the proper balance between pushing for needed change and recognizing people’s legitimate need for stability in this precious part of their life called church, and that has hurt people.  Now you may think that’s not bad, for a starter, and be able to rightfully add to that unflattering list.  But that should give you the idea of why we are doing this special liturgy of reconciliation in a few moments today, before I begin my sabbatical.  I apologize for those ways I have not been the pastor and person I am called to be.

And that points to why the words of forgiveness we hear, and the offering of peace share, each week are so important.  I take that offering of peace very seriously, and I trust that we mean what we say.  To offer the peace of Christ, and to respond to that offer is a wonderful sign of reconciliation.  The peace of Christ be with you.  And also with you.  As I begin my sabbatical in two weeks, those are the most precious words I will carry with me.