Readings: Romans 13:8-14 & Matthew 18:15-20

We struggle as we live out our faith with what it means to be a Christian. It is a struggle because living the Christian life is not a matter of black and white. There are laws to follow, of course. There are the Ten Commandments. And there is the great commandment to love God and to love neighbour. But so many things in our lives fall into grey areas that are matters of the heart. We can search for rules to guide us in making right decisions in such matters. But when it comes down to it God calls us to do the loving thing.

That is the basis of Paul's reminder to the Christians in Rome. He affirms the need to follow the Ten Commandments, but sums them up as "love of neighbour". "Love does no wrong to a neighbour: therefore, love is the fulfilling of the law." The law to love supersedes all other laws for the Christian. Such teaching about love fits well with the Ten Commandments. Old Testament rules are good rules, not because they are in the Bible, but because they are based on love. If we always do the loving thing, we find that we are following God's rules. In fact, if we always did the loving thing then there would be no need for rules. It is our frailty, our inability to put our neighbour first, our inability to see Christ in others that dictates our need for rules.

It is that frailty which is addressed by Matthew in the Gospel reading for today. There we are given a process for dealing with conflict. "If another member of the church sins against you, go and point out the fault while the two of you are alone. If you are not listened to, take one or two members along with you. If the member refuses to listen to them, tell it to the church. If the offender refuses to listen to the church, let such a one be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector." Let us consider first of all what it does not mean. It does not mean that we cut such people off. It is important to remember that Jesus was a friend to tax collectors and sinners.

How do we resolve conflicts within our faith community? It becomes especially difficult when we refuse to acknowledge that such conflicts even exist. That is, first of all, a personal responsibility. Confrontation is something few enjoy, and most will do anything to avoid. It requires skill and sensitivity if it is to allow a relationship to continue.

The Gospel reading recognizes the struggle of the early church to work harmoniously. There are disputes amongst believers that require resolution. Confession and absolution are part of our liturgy. When we pass the Peace in worship it symbolizes our willingness to be reconciled one with another.

The Gospel continues, "For when two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them." This is not a concept that is original to Jesus. It comes from the Jewish faith that Jesus practiced. In the Jewish faith it is known as "Shekhinah". To quote from Talmudic writings, "When two sit, and there are between them words of Torah," that is, when the Scriptures are open between them, "the Shekhinah, the presence of God, rests between them." For us, the divine presence is Jesus, himself. If we share in the communion of the faith and we are willing to work through a situation of strained and troubled relationship, there is no reason why such an encounter cannot be offered in prayer.

The idea behind such prayer is to allow God to work in and through our lives. We struggle together as the people of God. At times of national distress, at times of instability, in moments of personal conflict, we continue to trust in God who helps and protects us. And we keep always the "shekhinah", the presence of God, open between us. Then we are able to fulfil the law, to love one another as God loves us.

In a certain village, there was a lovely old church, which had fallen on hard times. It was racked with dissent. The people who came to church found themselves merely going through the motions, praying with heavy hearts.

In a wooded area on the edge of the town an old rabbi had built a retreat. He came there from time to time to fast and pray. No one ever spoke with him, but whenever he appeared, the word would be passed around the village: "The rabbi walks in the woods." They felt sustained by his presence.

One day the priest decided to visit with the rabbi and to open his heart to him. So after the morning Eucharist he set out through the woods. As he approached the hut he saw the rabbi standing in the doorway, his arms outstretched in welcome as though he had been waiting there for some time. They embraced as long lost brothers.

The rabbi motioned for him to enter. In the middle of the room stood a table with the Scriptures open on it. They sat there for a moment in the presence of the Book. Then the two of them burst into tears. They cried until they could cry no more.

After the tears had ceased to flow, the rabbi lifted his head. "You and your people are serving God with heavy hearts," he said. "You have come to ask my advice. I will give you a teaching, but you can repeat it only once. After that no one must ever say it aloud again." He looked the priest straight in the face. "The Messiah is among you." For a while all was silent. Then the rabbi said to him, "You must go now." He left without a word and without ever looking back.

The next Sunday during the sermon, he told the people about the teaching from the rabbi and that it was never to be spoken aloud again. Then he looked at each person in the congregation. "The rabbi said that one of us is the Messiah."

The saying startled them. "What could it mean?" they asked themselves. "Is John the Messiah? Or Mary? Or Thomas? Am I the Messiah? What could all this mean?"

The teaching puzzled them, but no one ever mentioned it again. As time went by, they began to treat one another differently. They lived with one another as if they had found something special. They prayed together as people genuinely looking for something. Visitors to the church found themselves deeply moved by the lives of the people. Before long new comers were coming from far and wide to be nourished by the worship. The community began to grow and flourish.

The old rabbi no longer walked in the woods. But somehow or other the people who had taken his teaching to heart were sustained by his prayerful presence.

Conflict in a diverse community is inevitable. There are diversities of opinion that need to be heard. Such differences of vision are not right or wrong. They are simply part of our struggle to live the Christian life. The way to deal with such conflict lies in seeing Christ in one another and in praying for each other that Christ may be served.

As we pass the peace may we look into one another's eyes and see the face of Christ.