|
Text:
Matthew 18:15-20 (Ezekiel 33:7-9, Romans 13:8)
W 16th
Sunday after Pentecost We
Owe It to Each Other In the
name of him who with us whenever we come together in his name, dear friends in
Christ: On the night of his arrest,
shortly before he went out to begin the horrendous ordeal of his beatings and
crucifixion by which he would give himself as the atoning sacrifice for our
sins, our Lord Jesus gave his followers one last command. He told them to love one another. “As I have loved you”, he said, “So you are
to love one another.” Powerful
words. And one thing’s for sure,
our Savior’s last request is a pretty tall order to fill. We could work on loving each other for a
whole lifetime and still never come close to doing it as completely or with the
same selfless devotion that he did. We
hear So, love is a debt we owe one another; and I think it will be helpful to think of it that way as we consider what is for us yet another of the costs of discipleship. We introduced this line of thought last week when we saw that though forgiveness of sin and eternal life are God’s free gifts to us through faith in his Son, there are nevertheless high costs associated with keeping and growing in the faith through which we are freely saved. In particular, last week we saw how those who are called to proclaim God’s Word often come under the fire of those who do not want to hear it. To illustrate, we looked at the ministry of the prophet Jeremiah, and heard how he was ridiculed, imprisoned, and physically attacked for delivering the message God gave him. We also heard how Jeremiah was none to happy about it, and how he complained to God about having to suffer for doing the job he’d been given. In response, the Lord pretty much told him to stop sniveling and buck up and take it: it was part of the cost of his discipleship – it was the cross he was assigned to bear. And the Lord told him that he wasn’t going to take that cross away. Instead, he said he would give him the strength to carry it, that he would see him through and ultimately rescue him from all his troubles – which are comforting promises for you and me as well; for like Jeremiah, we are all called to stand for God’s truth in a hostile world. So, that’s one cost of discipleship
we are to bear. This week, examining
Jesus’ words to us in the Gospel lesson, we want to look at another cost: the debt of love we owe to a brother or
sister who claims to hold the Christian faith, but who is now caught up in some
ongoing or unrepentant sin. And perhaps
we should begin by stating the underlying truth that the Lord Jesus anticipates
should be obvious to all of us. It’s
this: a Christian person cannot be engaged in willful,
ongoing, unrepentant sin. On this
Scripture is emphatic. St. Paul writes,
“Do you not know that the wicked will not
inherit the kingdom of God? Do not deceive yourselves: Neither the sexually
immoral nor idolaters nor adulterers nor homosexuals nor thieves nor the greedy
nor drunkards nor slanderers nor swindlers will inherit the kingdom of God
(1 Corinthians 6:9-10). The Christian
life is a life of repentance; of being sorry for sin and having the desire to
turn away from it. It’s our sense of
guilt and shame, as well as our fear of punishment that drives us to embrace
the salvation earned for us by Christ when he died for us. A person without that shame and fear who
continues in sin and refuses to repent has fallen from the faith. If he says he believes in Christ, but
disregards God’s commands because he feels that they’re outdated, that they
don’t apply to him, that “everybody’s doing it”, or that it doesn’t matter
since he’s forgiven anyway, he’s only fooling himself. He is not a Christian. He might believe in Jesus, all right; but
he’s using what he knows about him to betray him. Such a person, like Judas, is headed straight
to Hell. And what we hear Jesus say to us
this morning is that we owe that person something. We are not to just sit by and let them die in
sin. No, we’re to do everything that’s
possible to try to win that person back to the saving faith and life. Too often it happens that we’re very much
aware that a brother or sister is falling into sin or has already fallen; but
we just look the other way. We pretend
not to notice. We think to ourselves,
“Well, it’s not my responsibility to say anything.” But remember it was the murderer
Cain who asked in feigned innocence, “What?
Am I my brother’s keeper?” It’s the kind of
question only someone who doesn’t have an ounce of love or concern for a
brother could ask. The answer is: Yes, of course, you are your brother’s
keeper. You are to do whatever is in
your power to promote the safety and wellbeing of your brother. And if his physical state is your concern, how
much more should you be concerned about the state of his eternal soul? In
calling us to love each other, Jesus places the mantle of responsibility for
helping to restore a fallen brother upon all who follow him. Or in the words of this morning’s Old
Testament lesson, we are to be watchmen for one another. If we see the enemy coming, intent on
capturing the soul of one of us, we are to sound the alarm. Who?
You! It’s the person who sees the
smoke first who’s supposed to pull the fire alarm. What’s more, you’d be guilty of gross
criminal negligence if you didn’t.
That’s what the Lord says: “If you don’t speak out to dissuade the
wicked man from his ways, he will die for his sin, and I will hold you
accountable.” You are
your brother’s keeper. That’s why it’s
incumbent upon you to intervene when someone falls. Sometimes we think, “Well, he’ll come back on
his own in time”, or “There’s nothing I can do, it’s up to God to bring him
back.” But that’s completely opposite to
how we understand God works in the world.
We believe God works through his Word.
No one caught up in sin’s deception just wanders back to God on his
own. He has to hear God’s
Word. And so there is something you can
do: deliver the message. Going to speak God’s warning to
someone who’s fallen is what Jesus requires of us; but we might ask, “To whom
should I go? The world is full of people
in sin. Am I supposed to go to every
single one? Will I be held accountable
for everyone I fail to warn?” Of course
not. As with charity, such warnings
begin at home. First, understand that
we’re talking about the household of faith, those who claim to be fellow
Christians. We don’t expect those
outside the church to live according to Christ’s standards. The people God holds us most accountable for
are the ones who are closest to us. It
starts with your spouse who is your own flesh and blood, then your children,
grandchildren, brothers and sisters, even parents, then to the extended family
in expanding circles of more distant relation.
At some point it includes your friends and neighbors some of whom are probably
closer than some of your relations.
Likewise it includes your church family:
the people with whom you worship and share the Sacrament; again in
expanding circles beginning with this congregation, and extending to eventually
to all Christians with whom you have contact. I should
add that though the reading you heard speaks of a “brother who sins against you”, you don’t get off the hook
by claiming that whatever it is he’s doing isn’t a sin against you
personally. First, the words “against
you” don’t appear in many of the best Greek manuscripts. A better reading is just, “If your brother
sins go show him his fault”. And if you
look again at that list of sins Paul mentioned, specifically the sins of sexual
immorality (which would include things like shacking up, pornography, and
casual sex while dating), and then adultery, homosexuality, theft, drunkenness,
slander, and so on – none of those sins is likely to be directed toward you
personally; but that doesn’t change the fact that the one doing them is putting
himself in peril of hellfire. When you
see someone fall in any of these ways, Christ calls upon you to act. So, recognizing your responsibility, the question becomes: “How do I go about making a rescue attempt?” Jesus does not leave us guessing. First, he says, “Go.” It’s a command. It’s not, “Wait for him to come to me”, or
“So and so is closer to this; I’ll wait for him to go”. No, if you see the problem, the job belongs
to you. Second, Jesus says, “Go
alone.” The goal here is containment. We have a duty to protect one another’s
reputations. We’re not to go around
talking about each other’s sins: that
itself is a sin that if you’re doing, someone should come talk to you
about. No, Christ says you are to go to
the person privately and speak God’s word of warning. No one else ever need know. And if your brother or sister hears you and
repents, God himself forgives the sin and forgets that it ever happened. You will have won back a soul for
Christ. Case closed – never mentioned
again. It would be
wonderful, of course, if every case were that simple. Surprisingly though, many are just that simple. Often the Holy Spirit is working on a
person’s conscience long before you arrive.
A spoken word of rebuke from the Lord coming from you in loving concern
is all it takes. A broken spirit
replies, “You’re right, I am sinning”, and then you have the unparalleled joy
of announcing God’s forgiving grace in Christ Jesus: “The Lord has taken away your sin.” Unfortunately,
in some cases you’re going to encounter resistance. Instead of repentance, you might get denial,
“No, you’re wrong, I’m not doing that”; or you might get self-justification,
“Yes, I did, but I have a good reason”.
Or you might get a defensive response designed to get you to back
off. Usually it comes in the form of a
personal attack: “Mind your own
business!” or “Who are you to accuse me?
What right have you to judge me?”
No problem. Jesus says if the
person won’t listen to you, you’re not to give up. “Take two or three others along with
you.” Who should you take? The best people are those who are both close
to and respected by the person you hope to help. And again, containment is preferred. If at all possible, take people who already
know of the problem. This additional
help may make all the difference. It
ensures that you are not out of line – that other people see the problem too
and it’s not just in your head. It also
gives the person less room to make excuses, obscure facts, and hide behind
counter accusations. Lastly, and of most
importance, is it shows God’s love by telling the individual, “We all see this
problem and we are all concerned about you.” If handled
lovingly, according to Christ’s instructions, the vast majority of cases will
end there. You will have gained back
your brother or sister in the Lord. But
if these first two steps to rescue someone who has fallen fail, Jesus asks you
to take it to the third step and tell it to the church. Here he means the local congregation, and
primarily the pastor and elders who are the ones charged to act in the name of
the congregation. Why should they
care? For the same reason you do: love for the person who has fallen. At when it comes to this point, the need to
save the person from their sin outweighs the concern about keeping
confidentiality. A person in danger of
being lost because he refuses to repent is the concern of the whole
church. And so, acting in the name of
the congregation, the pastor and elders talk to the person in an effort to call
him to repentance. “And if,” Jesus says,
“he refuses to listen even to the church, treat him as you would a pagan or tax
collector.” The official name for this is excommunication. It’s regarded as a bad word by most
Christians today; but it shouldn’t be.
When it’s applied to someone who’s fallen and refuses to repent, it‘s an
act of love performed by the whole church because a person who refuses to hear
the church is refusing to hear Christ who speaks through it. And really, it’s not so much an action the
church takes; it’s rather a case of calling a spade a spade. A person who refuses to repent has removed
himself from fellowship with Christ. So,
when a church excommunicates someone, it is only truthfully describing what the
situation already is: the fallen
sinner is not in communion with Christ.
This is done not to punish, but rather to show the person in the
strongest possible terms that to continue in unrepentant sin is to be separated
from Christ and with him, the forgiveness and life he gives. The motive is always love, and the goal is
always to win them back. And when Christ
tells us to treat people who are excommunicate as pagans, he does not mean to
snub, ridicule, or hate them. He means
to treat them as you would any other person who is outside the life of the
church. We’re to be kind and loving to
them, and looking for opportunities to share the Gospel with them. It always remains our goal to win them back
to the saving faith. And if they do come
back, all is forgiven again. It grieves
me that Christian discipline in general and excommunication in particular is so
misunderstood today, and that church members and congregations are paralyzed by
fear of doing what Christ commands because they’re worried about what people
who don’t understand will think. And
let’s face it: if we hear of a church
excommunicating someone, the natural, gut response most of us have is to think
what a bunch of unloving legalists they must be. The truth is exactly opposite. It takes a great deal of love and trust to do
what Christ commands. Parents discipline
their children because they love them.
They speak, then they warn, and then they spank if necessary, precisely
because they love their children and want them to live as they should. In fact, the Scripture says that parents who
don’t discipline actually hate their children.
They set them on the road to ruin.
Now, here we are in the family of God.
How can we say we love one another if we don’t exercise discipline the
way Christ commanded us to? And that’s
just it: we can’t. We owe this to each other. What stops us? Two things:
first there’s doubt. We really
don’t believe it will work, which is only to call our Lord Jesus an incompetent
leader, a liar, or both. I don’t think
we want to go there. Let’s let him be
the Lord of the church and trust that he knows what’s best. The second thing is fear. We’re afraid of offending. We’re afraid of driving people away. We’re afraid of conflict and confrontation in
general; and we don’t want to be called names.
So instead we sit hunkered down in the trenches like the soldiers of an
army who are unwilling to rescue their wounded comrades who have fallen in the
no man’s land between the opposing forces.
We expect these wounded to either crawl back on their own or let them
suffer the fate of being killed or captured precisely because we’re afraid of
getting shot at if we make a rescue attempt.
And the worst of it is, we fear most being shot in the back by people on
our own side if we try to do what’s right.
It’s usually the very people who should be the strongest advocates of a
rescue, the people closest to the person in peril, who are the ones we’re
afraid of offending. Listen: if it’s someone in your family who’s fallen
on the field, you should be leading the rescue.
Isn’t it strange how anyone of us would try to prevent someone we care
about from committing suicide; but when it comes to spiritual suicide, which
has far greater consequences, we shrug our shoulders and say, “It’s nobody’s business
but his”, or “Let’s just wait and see what happens”, or “I’m afraid of losing a
friend.” Ironic, isn’t it? So afraid of losing a friend in time that
we’d sacrifice them for eternity. So, what am I
saying? I’m saying that it’s high time
that we all looked at this whole matter of church discipline as the Lord Jesus
taught us. I’m saying that we ought to
repent of the way we – all of us, myself included – have bungled things in the
past and failed to do what was right because of fear or doubt or, perhaps,
ignorance. And receiving the Lord’s
forgiveness and strength to go forward, I’m saying that we should make it a
priority to do for our fallen brothers and sisters what Christ commands us. We owe it to each other for the sake of him
who loved us and gave himself for us. In
his holy name. Amen. Soli Deo Gloria! |
