Conflict revolution

Isaiah 9: 1-4

1 Corinthians 1:10-18

Matthew 4:12-23

Christ Church and St Mary’s, 20th January 2002

 

You have probably heard the story of the young man lying in on Sunday morning, and suddenly his mother bursts through the door.  "Come on, it’s time to get up - we need to get to church." (You’ve been there!)  "But mum, I don't want to go this morning."  "Come on, we always go, I'm not having any excuses."  "But mum, the people there are so boring, it’s so difficult.  And the service goes on for so long."  "I don't care, it's time to get up and go and if you don't get up soon you're going to be for it."   "But mum, can’t I miss it this week for once?"  "No son, you’re the vicar.  Now get up."

 

I have a secret confession to make.  Sometimes I don't like going to church-it's an effort, it's inconvenient.  Sometimes I would prefer a lie in.  Especially in winter when the mornings are dark and cold.  And actually, come to think of it, especially in summer when the weather is so beautiful and I would rather be outdoors.  And actually, spring can be a bad time to get to church as the flowers come out and there are things to be done in the garden and around the house.  Well, let's be honest, autumn can be a little bit chilly and inconvenient too.  And it's not just going to church that's the problem.  Sometimes, even though I'm more extrovert than intravert, I would rather not be with people.  Sometimes I don't feel like going to my house group-now they are all lovely people and we are growing together, but sometimes it's just too much hard work to get out of the door.  Sometimes I don't like having to pray with people-they can be demanding.  And sometimes, let's face it, PCC meetings are not the most inviting the ways of spending an evening.  PCC meetings can raise all sorts of uncomfortable issues and feelings, there can be tensions in the room and the whiff of conflict.  Sometimes I would rather avoid it all.

 

One of the things that puts me off most is that churches do seem to be places of conflict and argument.  In fact, one of the greatest pieces of evidence for a Satanic force in the world seems to me to be the way in which conflict or disagreement can split churches-beginning with small things and ending up in huge schism.  We see it in the history of the church and we see it in our own community too.  Conflict seems to be part of the package of community.  And sometimes it is easier just to avoid it completely.

 

And just to encourage you, there are going to be plenty of things coming up in the life of this church over the next months and years which are potential causes of conflict.  We will be looking at things which are bound to cause disagreement.  The diocesan strategy document which we will be discussing and looking at over the next five years will mean that we are reassessing our whole life together in lots of areas and taking action.  We have a group looking at the interior of the church and how it can be adapted for future use and mission.  There are bound to be different feelings about this.  And in the long run ecumenically we are going to have to think about how we fit together with our brothers and sisters of other denominations in terms of sharing resources, worshipping together, etc.  There are going to be lots of areas for disagreement.

 

A young rabbi found a serious problem in his new congregation. During the Friday service, half the congregation stood for the prayers and half remained seated, and each side shouted at the other, insisting that theirs was the true tradition. Nothing the rabbi said or did moved toward solving the impasse. Finally, in desperation, the young rabbi sought out the synagogue's 99-year-old founder. He met the old rabbi in the nursing home and poured out his troubles. "So tell me," he pleaded, "was it the tradition for the congregation to stand during the prayers?" "No," answered the old rabbi. "Ah," responded the younger man, "then it was the tradition to sit during the prayers?" "No," answered the old rabbi. "Well," the young rabbi responded, "what we have is complete chaos! Half the people stand and shout, and the other half sit and scream." "Ah," said the old man, "that was the tradition."

 

In the church, as in the whole of our lives, it seems conflict and tension are inevitable.  They are inevitable because, as our collect says, we are broken weak people.  It is inevitable because even though we try to be a community, most of us still cherish the individualism which is so much a part of the culture around us.  We prefer power and security to submission and insecurity.  It is inevitable because we are tempted to look for that elusive security in certain people or labels.  “I like Apollos” starts off as a preference.  But this preference ends in a faction: "I belong to Apollos."  I am identified by my allegiance to a particular person -I liked it when Derek did it this way, I felt really comfortable when Owen did it that way, I am happy now that Simon does it this way becomes in effect: "I really belonged when Derek was here” or “I really belonged when Owen was here” or “I really belong now that Simon is here.”  So we gain security from allegiance to some people and club together against others.  But conflict is inevitable because we invariably come with too high an expectation of what we can find in each other, or in our leaders, and are invariably disappointed.  It is inevitable because we are prone to be suspicious of what is different.  It is inevitable finally for quite a positive reason: what we come together to worship, to pray about, and to talk about, is not just some take it or leave it hobby-it is the foundation of our lives, the reason we think we exist.  God is an emotive commitment-if I question something about your faith I am not just questioning an opinion, I am questioning you as a person-I am perhaps threatening your sense of identity, your relationship with God.  So in the church conflict is inevitable.  And in view of what is coming up in our life together we would be wise to prepare ourselves for this reality.

 

We can prepare ourselves by determining that our inevitable disagreements should not become destructive conflicts.  Yes, it may be inevitable but it is not desirable that we disagree with each other or get angry with each other.  Paul wrote to Titus "Avoid stupid controversies, genealogies, dissensions, and quarrels about the law, for they are unprofitable and worthless.”  And he gave short shrift to those who persist in arguing saying: “After a first and second admonition, have nothing more to do with anyone who causes divisions, since you know that such a person is perverted and sinful, being self-condemned.”  We are to strive to avoid hurting each other.  This is serious business.  Harmony and unity are to be fought for.  The opposite of a loving community is not a hating community but a lazy community.  A community that can't be bothered to listen, a community that can't be bothered to see things from another point of view.  Love has the willingness to make an effort at the heart of it. 

 

It’s these false expectations that create so much trouble among us.  When church alone becomes our focus, we are headed for inevitable catastrophe.  When what we think of the vicar determines our relationship with God, then however brilliant he or she is, we will always be held back.  When you stand face to face with Jesus, Derek, Owen, or Simon, or even George Carey will not be there with you.  Your vicar will not be the issue.  What will count will not be whether you can say "I belonged to Simon", but "I belong to Jesus."  And the church community in itself does not have the resources to bring freedom.  In the Christian community we say to each other, "We are together, but we cannot fulfil each other.  We help each other, but we also have to remind each other that our destiny is beyond our togetherness."  

 

In times of disagreement our eyes need to be off each other.  Self-obsession fans the fire of conflict.  But focussing on others creates a different kind of fire.  Jesus told his disciples to be fishers of people, to reach out, to proclaim.  In doing so, they needed to stop giving so much time to their own needs, they needed to stop concentrating on mending their own networks, and focus on a new mission, a different priority.  Jesus called them to look outward, to see the needs of the kingdom.  He calls us to catch new fish, not to be keepers of the aquarium.  We are fishers of people - that was the disciples’ first calling, their first mission statement, their first common goal. 

 

Keeping our eyes on our goal as missionary Christians has the effect of making us focus on what matters.  When disagreements come, it prevents us from being bogged down in ourselves.  According to one count, the gospels record 132 contacts that Jesus had with people. Six were in the Temple, four in the synagogues and 122 were out with the people in the mainstream of life.  He wasn't too churchy.  But he was focussed on the church's mission - sharing the good news that the kingdom of heaven was near.  That too, is our purpose as fishers of people.  Evangelism.  It's a word which makes most of us squirm.  But if "fisher of people" doesn't equate with evangelist in some way, then I don't know what does.  D.L. Moody once spoke with a woman who didn't like his method of evangelism. "I don't really like mine all that much either. What's yours?" She replied that she didn't have one. Moody said, "Then I like mine better than yours."  There are many ways to evangelise, to demonstrate, to share, to proclaim Jesus Christ.  But the more our eyes are on this task, the less they will be on energy sapping conflicts among us.

 

And our eyes need to be on the cross, on the saviour, on the one who puts up with us, who loves us, who sticks with us.  When we don't feel like loving, when we don't feel like being together, when we don't feel like making the effort, when we don't feel like we enjoyed PCC, our eyes need to be on him.  He is the tuning fork from which we all get our pitch right.  He is the sea in which we all swim.  He is the one who calls us together and keeps us together.  It is difficult to be in conflict with someone when you are kneeling with them at his feet and your eyes are on him.

 

During World War II, Hitler commanded all religious groups to unite so that he could control them. Among the Brethren assemblies, half complied and half refused. Those who went along with the order had a much easier time. Those who did not, faced harsh persecution. In almost every family of those who resisted, someone died in a concentration camp.  

When the war was over, feelings of bitterness ran deep between the groups and there was much tension. Finally they decided that the situation had to be healed. Leaders from each group met at a quiet retreat. For several days, each person spent time in prayer, examining his own heart in the light of Christ's commands. Then they came together.  Francis Schaeffer, who told of the incident, asked a friend who was there, "What did you do then?" "We were just one," he replied. As they confessed their hostility and bitterness to God and yielded to His control, the Holy Spirit created a spirit of unity among them. Love filled their hearts and dissolved their hatred.

 

When we pray together our differences are put into a new perspective.  That is why this week's Prayer for Christian Unity is not just more meetings to go to, but a fundamental opportunity to join the journey to that place where there is no conflict.  It's a step towards the vision of God's ultimate goal for us- the huge crowd of people in the age to come, when there will be no hatred, no disagreement, no division, but where people of all tribes and nations and even denominations will worship together with one voice.  Then our eyes will be off each other and on to Jesus.   Belonging to one another is demanding.  Disagreeing in love, as we inevitably will, is tiring.  Embracing the future calls us out of lethargy.  But if our eyes are on our task, and on Jesus, then we may find ourselves champing to leap out of our beds after all.

 

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