Sunday, September 10, 2017

The Grace of Confession (Sermon)


“The Grace of Confession”
Matthew 18:15-20
Allen Huff
Jonesborough Presbyterian Church
9/10/17­

         Matthew 18 consists of a collection of Jesus’ teachings. While it’s unlikely that Jesus said these things in rapid succession, a central theme does hold this patchwork together: the reality of sin and the necessity of forgiveness. Of particular concern in this chapter are the sins perpetrated by church members against other church members, and the forgiveness required to heal the strained and broken relationships.
Indeed, to be the Church faithfully and effectively in the world, followers of Jesus must, in deliberate and disciplined ways, practice confession and forgiveness. We cannot survive as a community without daring to speak the truth in humility and in love when we see something compromising the integrity of our witness. Nor can we survive without daring to admit the truth in humility and in love when we are acting in ways that compromise the integrity of our witness.
         Having said that, when we dare to call attention to the sin of others, we must always be prepared to accept the possibility that the offense we name says more about our own ravenous egos than it does about someone else’s transgression. While that can go on ad nauseam, it’s crucial for us to recognize our limited capacity for truly gracious judgment. Without that humble acknowledgment, we create communities defined by a vicious legalism in which we exchange gifts like patience, compassion, and honest self-reflection for the illusion not simply of righteousness, but of being right. And that’s just a power play.
         It seems to me that, throughout the Gospels, Jesus is marginally interested in our naming the sins of others, and deeply concerned about our ability to confess our own sinfulness and our own limited understanding of the heart and mind of God.
Years ago, a pastor told me that he had decided to omit the prayer of confession from worship. He called it a pastoral move. He said that most people came into church after rough weeks. They felt burdened by six days of expectations and criticism that they simply had to endure. So, leaving out the confession on Sunday was his way of trying to help people not to feel so beaten down and defeated. While I understand his point, I think he missed the point.
Our model for confession shouldn’t be that tragic figure from Nathaniel Hawthorne’s novel, The Scarlet Letter, the Rev. Mr. Dimmesdale, who flogs himself every night in his closet while remembering his dalliance with Hester Prynne. Confession is not about tearing ourselves down and wallowing in guilt over past or even ongoing mistakes. It’s not about humiliating ourselves for being contemptible failures who don’t deserve God’s grace. In confession, we admit, humbly and completely, that we have all “sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.” In confession, we consciously acknowledge before the eternal and unfathomable mystery which is God, that you and I, and all human beings are, ultimately, equals.
Back to Jesus’ teaching: When someone believes that he or she has experienced an injury or insult at the hands of another within the community, go talk to that person. If they listen, beautiful. If not, take two or three folks with you as witnesses. If that doesn’t work, spill the beans in front of the whole congregation. And if even that fails, says Jesus, then treat that person like a Gentile or a tax collector.
The knee-jerk reaction is to hear Jesus telling us to treat as contemptible those who refuse to confess their errors and to correct their ways. But is that really what he is saying?
Jesus is no stranger to the accusations he seems to be authorizing us to make. Back in Matthew 11, when accused by some fellow Jews of the sin of keeping unclean company, Jesus exposes their hypocrisy by saying, “John came neither eating nor drinking, and they say, ‘He has a demon’; the Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, ‘Look, a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!’” (Matthew 11:18-19) What does that say about the company Jesus keeps?
In chapter 12, Matthew quotes Isaiah who identifies the Son of Man as the one who “will proclaim justice to the Gentiles,” and “in [whose] name the Gentiles will hope.” (Matthew 12:18d, 21) What does that say about Jesus’ opinion of non-Jews?
I hear Jesus saying that when someone contributes to the community’s suffering, and when that person refuses to accept his or her share of the responsibility, the members of the church are to act, yes. But first and foremost, they are to remember who they are. They are followers of Jesus. And Jesus treats Gentiles and tax collectors as human beings worthy of patience, compassion, and love. Indeed, he welcomes them as neighbors for whom grace is all the more important.
 “Those who are well have no need of a physician,” says Jesus in Matthew 9, “but those who are sick. Go and learn what this means,” he says, “‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice.’ For I have come to call not the righteous but sinners.’” (Matthew 9:12-13)
Jesus is challenging us not to cast each other away during times of struggle, but to embrace, to love, and to forgive all the more fervently, to listen and to speak to each other all the more honestly.
Forgive as you are forgiven. Love as you are loved. These teachings are synonyms. Our experience of and our witness to the Gospel depends on our willingness to set loose our forgiveness-hindering egos, and to bind ourselves together in love.
As for those last two verses: I admit my skepticism that God’s criteria for action is agreement between two people. That sets bar too low. You can find two people to agree on most anything, whether it’s destroying nuclear arsenals or using them. Two-person agreement reduces the question to a matter of which god do any two people believe in – one of violence and vengeful conquest, one of peace and reconciliation, one of distance and indifference, or no god at all? I honestly believe that the God revealed in Jesus is characterized by grace, peace, justice, relationship, and reconciliation. And right now, I can find more than two people who agree on that. So why doesn’t God seem to be making it happen?
Who am I to say that God isn’t doing that? And if I’m blind to God’s gracious activity in the world, in spite of all that is and appears to be broken, that means I have something to confess. I have to confess that, in spite of what I profess to believe about God, if someone puts more power and wealth in my hands than my human heart and mind can handle, I just might follow that god. I am as vulnerable to greed and selfishness as anyone else. How about you?
Thanks be to God, though. The Gospel remains very consistent with its proclamation of grace, a gift which is, at every moment, offered to Jews and Gentiles alike, to the destitute and tax collectors, to sinners and saints, to the just and the unjust.
Like it or not, we’re in this together. And wherever we are, whoever we are, God is always here, always among us.

No comments:

Post a Comment