Theological Truth: Our work is to restore all people to unity with God and each other in Christ. We are ministers of Christ’s mission of reconciliation.
In the name of God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
Whenever I would go to confession as kid, right after saying, “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. My last confession was six weeks ago,” I would invariably then say, “Since that time I have disobeyed my parents and fought with my sisters.” To be honest, I probably had committed both of those transgressions, but I bring it up because conflict in my family was considered a moral failing, an unacceptable deviation from the expected, prescribed unwavering family bliss. Even well into my adult years, nothing would irritate my mother more than an off-hand quip about how we put the “fun” in dysfunction. She did not like to admit that there was, or could be, dysfunction in our family.
And to be fair, there wasn’t much. But fearing conflict as an enemy to be avoided at all costs only leads to denial and avoidance. Treating disagreement as an unnatural force to be feared robs us of deepening relationships through difficult dialogue and meaningful reconciliation. In the worst-case scenario, it creates the perception that our relationships are fragile and our bonds, weak. People might not stick around if/when things got heated. But in relationships, conflict is inevitable. The question isn’t will we have conflict in our family systems, but how will we deal with it.
Today’s reading proves that Jesus foresees this reality. “If a member of the church sins against you…” Why would Jesus give this lesson… why would Matthew include it… if they expected the church to be an eternally harmonious community enjoying uninterrupted relational perfection? It’s not so much “if a member sins,” but “when.” Conflict, even in church communities, is going to happen, so don’t panic. Don’t deny it or hide from it. It’s not the end of the world or an existential threat. It’s like a warning light on the car dashboard that something needs attention. So what do we do with those blinking lights?
The first step is to talk to the person who hurt you. Make your feelings known to them, rather than to everyone else but them, which is tempting, but gossip is poisonous to a community. If talking to them directly doesn’t work, take one or two others with you. Moses requires this inspired jurisprudence in Deuteronomy (19:15) to avoid false accusations or modern-day gaslighting. But the presence of others also helps us see nuances and gather different perspectives. If that doesn’t work, Jesus says to take it to the church—the gathered assembly of the faithful. If that still doesn’t work, he says to treat them as an outsider: a Gentile or a tax collector.
Notice that the goal remains constant; to restore relationship and reconcile the community. As Jesus puts it: To “regain that one.” You may be asking, “Well what about treating them as a Gentile or a tax collector? That sounds mighty harsh. Isn’t that like excommunication?” Yes it is, and we have provisions for that which you can find on page 409 in the BCP under “Disciplinary Rubrics.” But even that drastic step is not intended to be permanent. Seeing them as tax collectors or gentiles, as Prof. Mark Schaser reminds us, “alludes to hope for…restoration, since tax collectors and gentiles are the very groups that Matthew earmarks for evangelization (see also Matthew 9:9–11; 10:3; 11:19; 28:19).”(https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-23/commentary-on-matthew-1815-20-7) For Jesus, and for his body the Church, the goal is always to restore and reconcile; to bring outsiders into the fold, even if we have to fight like heaven to do it.
How do we do this brave work of facing conflict rather than avoiding it? In her new book, The Art of Fighting, the conflict resolution facilitator Priya Parker says the key is “to reframe conflict as an investment in the person.” (https://www.nytimes.com/2026/08/22/magazine/priya-parker-interview.html?searchResultPosition=1).
She says, “When my husband and I start arguing, if my children happen to be in the room, I will look at them and say: ‘It’s OK that we’re fighting. We’re arguing because we love each other. This is an important conversation.’ I’m kind of saying it as much to them as I am to myself… So, very simply, it’s checking in and saying, Do I care about this relationship?”
If we care about being in relationship with Christ and one another, facing conflict is inevitable. We don’t have to settle for either a superficial peace or all-out war. Not if we maintain what Parker calls “relational longing.” She says, “one of the deepest dangers in our country is that we’ve fallen out of love with each other. When you no longer have relational longing, you just leave. When I work…with churches,” she says, “one of the things that I tell leaders is to find and cultivate that relational longing, that residual desire to still want to be in community with each other.” (Ibid)
Fr. Walter McCracken, Trinity’s long-serving priest for whom McCracken Hall is named, had that relational longing and desire to be in community. Knowing Fr. McCracken’s traditional view against women’s ordination, Trinity’s Rector called him one Saturday night years ago with the news that the following morning would be a historic day: a woman priest would be celebrating Eucharist for the first time behind our altar. He also assured Fr. McCracken that he’d understand if he chose to stay home and avoid the situation. But Fr. McCracken calmly replied, “Thank you. I’ll see you in the morning.” The Rector was surprised and asked if he had understood, to which he replied, “I may not like or agree with the decision, but my church has spoken, and I will see you in the morning.”
With that sort of relational longing, that faithful trust in the strength and indissolubility of our life together in and through Christ, we too can face conflict. It’s hard work. I get it. This priest is as conflict averse as they come! It isn’t easy. And some relationships—those that are too toxic or dangerous, may not be reconcilable on this side of heaven. Others may need a season of mutually agreed upon truce. But it’s worth it. We are worth it. And when we can practice that relational longing with those closest to us, we can gradually widen the circle of relational longing to our neighbors, our fellow citizens, our world.
So don’t be afraid of conflict, expect it. Don’t settle for superficial peace; don’t walk out when it gets uncomfortable. Have the humility to be open, to be wrong, to be challenged, and to have our relationships deepened. Do the messy, ongoing, inevitable work of fighting with one another, which is to say, fighting like heaven for reconciliation.
