A Presbyterian colleague of mine, Bill Hawkins, likes to tell the story of how a sermon on Matthew 18 once went over in the little country church that was the setting for his first pastorate. Evidently, this white-wooden church was located in the midst of soybean fields, just two hundred yards from two big farmhouses. Living in those houses were couples who had once been members of the church, but had walked out of a board meeting angry, and had never come back. Every Sunday, the seventy or so people who still worshipped there parked and filed into the sanctuary in full view of those two houses. The situation was seldom-spoken of but always a present wound to the little community.

Now, about that sermon. Prior to Bill’s arrival, another freshly- minted preacher had been called there, and smack in the middle of preaching Matthew 18, about our common responsibility to forgive and be reconciled to one another, he came to a screeching halt. In light of the Scripture, he said, every person there needed to walk out of the service and proceed directly across the fields to reach out to those two unreconciled families. The congregation went along with the bold idea, some ladies taking off their shoes and navigating the furrows in their stocking feet. And let me tell you what came of that dramatic, unusual gesture… absolutely nothing. The former members were polite and seemed appreciative. But they also made it clear: their decision was final. All good intentions aside, they were not coming back (W. Hawkins, Christian Century: 14 August 2002, p. 21).

You were expecting something else? I think we are all hoping for something else. We are attracted to the idea that church is a welcoming, big-hearted place, populated by forgiven and forgiving people. Even if the world proves time and again that it has a thirst for vengeance and wrath, we prefer to think of Church as a refuge from all that, a place where since God has forgiven us our debt of sin, we can at least give each other the benefit of the doubt!

But at times we discover otherwise. Sometimes, our heightened expectation of better behavior sets us up for disappointment with our sisters and brothers in Christ. Maybe it’s the color chosen for the new carpet, maybe it’s the thoughtless remark made when the padded chairs are moved, maybe it’s the bit of gossip that finally made the complete loop, but people get hurt in the Church. And all too often, whatever Jesus said about the way we are to seek reconciliation with each other, people get mad and walk out. They excommunicate themselves. Perhaps they go to the church down the street. Perhaps they cease going altogether. But either way, pain remains for them, for those who love them, and for the church that learned nothing about the hard work of reconciliation and forgiveness.

After all, forgiveness is tough! Methodist Bishop Will Willimon put it this way: "I’ve concluded that the human animal is just not supposed to be good at forgiveness. Forgiveness is not some innate, natural human emotion. Vengeance, retribution, violence, these are natural human qualities. It is natural for the human animal to defend itself, to snarl and crouch into a defensive position when attacked, to howl when wronged, to bite back when bitten. Forgiveness is not natural, nor is it a universal human virtue.” (Willimon, Pulpit Resource Vol. 30, No. 1, p. 27). So I guess we can expect that if forgiveness is not easy for us as a species, it is not likely to be easy within a church made up of people.

This is why today we consider the painful reality of being disappointed with our brothers and sisters in Christ, or the recognition that “it’s hard to soar like an eagle when you’re stuck in a flock of turkeys.” When my wife saw that theme in the newsletter, she said: “You’re not going to say that, are you? People will think you think St. Mark’s is full of turkeys!” When I said, “well, it is. There’s even one in the pulpit!” she didn’t laugh, so I assured her that she just had to trust me. I will try not to take it as a no-confidence vote that she fled the state yesterday! (In truth, she’s visiting her parents!) For the record, although there are a gaggle of Hokies at St. Mark’s, I do not believe we are stuck in a flock of turkeys. I do believe that like the little Presbyterian church in the soybean fields, we are at times faced with painful disallusionment: relationships in the church can seem about as messy as relationships anywhere else. When that happens, it’s mighty easy to give into the frustration and just put one turkey foot in front of the other.

That’s because when we are hurt, we can become disaffected with an entire fellowship due to one or several soured relationships. And because it’s easy to leave – no surprise there. But Jesus offers, it seems to me, two very big surprises to rescue us from occasional disappointment and disillusionment with our brothers and sisters in the Church. First: if all Church were, is a bunch of agreeable people agreeing to get along, we’d have the fastest revolving door in the county back there! But there is more to the church than people, sisters and brothers. There is also the presence of the Holy Spirit, the uprooting, upending power of God to bring change and make all things new. Yes, disagreements happen, but the Holy Spirit can change people, can reconcile enemies, and can awaken in even the stingiest heart a new gratitude for the fact that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. When the Spirit unleashes joy, anything is possible, and if you ask me if I believe that, I say – believe it? I’ve seen it!

The second bit of surprising news is this: if the Spirit is let to work within a church, forgiveness becomes what it should be - not a bunch of isolated conversations between individuals, but a shared way of life. Let me tell you what I mean: in so many words, our job here is to learn a culture that fosters reconciled, reconciling lives. We are looking to invite the Spirit in to accomplish this! So when someone comes to us to air a grievance with another member of the Body, we don’t just listen in the hope they’ll finish soon – we take a risk and ask the questions that grace requires: “have you shared this with the person who disappointed you?” , we ask. “Do you feel you could do that? Because you’re right: this is a serious matter. Would you want me to go with you when, after we pray about it, you decide to go and seek to be reconciled with that person?”

You do that, I guarantee you one of two things will happen. Either they will take you up on your offer, and we’ll get to see some Matthew 18 magic happen, or they’ll learn mighty quick to stop airing their grievances to you. Either way, I’d call it a good start! Imagine a church that takes the work of reconciliation just that seriously, that sees every trespass held against a brother or sister for what it is: a threat to the unity of the Body of Christ, but also as a summons to take Jesus at his word, quit playing at Church, and really become a distinctive community. A forgiven and forgiving people who rely on the Holy Spirit to bring us through it, after Jesus led us to it!

I believe that every time we pray that God would forgive us our sins, as we forgive others who sin against us - we are challenging ourselves to be the Church - calling upon ourselves to really love one another. I don’t pretend that that is easy! In fact, I think we should invite the Spirit to get started in leading us. I suggest that if you feel so led, you consider attempting ten seconds of prayer everyday for the next two weeks. Picture in your mind a person who has offended against you, and offer this prayer: Gracious God, you have forgiven me my sins. I lift up to you (name of turkey here), because Jesus died for her, for him too. Today I pray they may know the love you have for them. Amen. Seems simple, but you might be amazed at what the Spirit can do with a whole church praying such a prayer.

Now if this seems a bit too simple to you, move right up to Boardwalk Ave. and resolve to pray boldly. Jesus tells us to “Go” and to “point out the fault when the two of you are alone.” We are uncomfortable with conflict or direct confrontation, yes, but instead of ignoring the conflict or avoiding the person in question, put the matter right before you in prayer. Weigh the pain you feel to get its measure. Take out a piece of paper and write down all the reasons that make sense for not dealing directly with the issue. Then write down the reasons for why you should deal with it. Finally give all of your reasoning to Jesus. You might imagine sitting down with him and telling him about the matter. Ask Him for his wisdom, and listen. Write down what you hear or sense. After doing this, you may find yourself better equipped to deal with anything that still needs resolution. You may also find, as I have, that when you invite Jesus to the table, quite a lot falls away that was crowding in on your heart.

In the end, it’s often beyond us to practice forgiveness on our own. But the good news is that what Jesus offers is not a challenge for superheroes working out an impossible personal moral code. He is inviting us to experience of a new way of living together.

Do you want it? Then ask for it. Amen.