A sermon at the Church of the Epiphany, Euclid, 10 September 2023. Matthew 18:15-20

For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them.

Jesus is here. Jesus is with us. I’d better watch what I say!

So let’s start with, I messed up last week. I mean, I mess up all of the time, but last week, in a particular and specific way, I erred and I hurt someone, without meaning to, but with effect. I didn’t know until they told me, and I was able to apologize, and repent, and ask forgiveness. And because this community is steeped in the Gospel of God’s great mercy to us, I believe that I have been forgiven.

In the broader church context, we have heard over the past week how we do not always behave, as an institution, or as individuals within it, in the ways that would bring glory to God and do justice to that mercy, or love to one another. You may have read the letter from the President of our House of Deputies decrying the outcome of a complaint that was taken to the church, with more than one witness, and that has not resulted yet in healing or reconciliation.

There are so many layers to this: layers of sexism, racism, hierarchical power dynamics, clericalism, and abuse.

We are doing some soul-searching about it all, as an institution. Our House of Bishops is particularly implicated in this business, and our Bishop Anne has written to us with her commitment and hope to be part of the healing that is needed. But as House of Deputies President Julia Ayala Harris wrote in her letter, “Transforming the culture within our church is a collaborative effort that requires participation from everyone. Together, we have work to do to ensure the safety of all people within our community and to strengthen the integrity of our disciplinary processes.”

It is no doubt notable that we read this gospel on UBE (Union of Black Episcopalians) Sunday. As such, we have paired it with a reading and psalm appointed for the commemoration of Alexander Crummell. You can read more of his experience here, but even a quick glance at the beginnings of his ministry, the ways in which the system repeatedly attempted to exclude him simply because of his colour, makes a poignant juxtaposition to Matthew’s appeal to the church itself to resolve disputes. What if it is the church that is in the wrong? What if the problem is not individual offences but the deep and abiding offence of racism that is dug into the foundations of the church in America (and too many other places)? Then to whom should we go?

We are a house full of sinners. We are hurt and hurting, hurt-full people.

So when Matthew describes how the church is to be, in matters of discipline, order, and offence, it is no surprise that he anticipates that it will not always be easy to repair the breach. But it is telling, I think, that he ends with this promise from Jesus, that where two or three are gathered in his name, he is with us.

He is with us. He is God with us, Emmanuel.

And here is our hope: not in disciplinary measures and Title IV task forces – as important as they truly are to our life together and our integrity, they are not where we invest our hope. Our hope is in the healing power and merciful grace of Jesus Christ, who lived and died and lives still for us sinners.

Trusting in Christ, we need not be afraid to confess our sins, our neediness, our brokenness. When Matthew writes to the church that if one will not listen to discipline, “let such a one be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector,” do we remember how Jesus treated tax collectors and outsiders, outcasts and even his betrayer? There is such irony there, isn’t there?

And there is hope. If we, as followers of Jesus, if we can trust in his healing power and merciful grace and understanding, then can we trust one another enough to confess when we are wrong and forgive when we have been wronged? Are we able to build a community that protects the innocent and brings to repentance those who are ready to be reconciled? 

This is not a call to paper over errors and worse with whitewashed words of false or cheap forgiveness. That does not move the needle on justice. Matthew describes a process that involves difficult truth-telling, the need often for allies, and the risk of a breach. But, he hears Jesus promising, when you do this work, I am with you. Where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them.

I appeal to you, if I have sinned against you, let me know, and I will do my best to humble myself to admit my error and amend my ways. If the church sins against you, we do have processes in place to help with the work of truth-telling, repentance, and healing, and we’re still working on them. You can start with me, or with our Wardens, or with our Bishop’s Office, as you feel best served. I messed up, and because someone told me about it, I was able to repent, and to be forgiven.

If we lean on the love of Jesus, even when we fail, even when we cannot accomplish that healing ourselves, we know how Jesus will pursue even those we call Gentiles and tax collectors, how he will angle for them with his love, even when we are no longer able; how he will love us indefatigably into repentance.

And if we are in the wrong, when we are in the wrong, when I am in the wrong, Jesus still shows up for us, comes to our table, despite our betrayals, and feeds us with his righteous, indiscriminate, abundant mercy.

Thanks be to God.

Alexander Crummell: Ecclesiasticus 39:6-11, Psalm 19:7-11; Year A Proper 18: Romans 13:8-14, Matthew 18:15-20