¹³ You, my brothers and sisters, were called to be free. But do not use your freedom to indulge the flesh^[a]; rather, serve one another humbly in love.¹⁴ For the entire law is fulfilled in keeping this one command: “Love your neighbor as yourself.”^[b] 15 If you bite and devour each other, watch out or you will be destroyed by each other.

Galatians 5:13-15

The Apostle Paul was the church’s first conflict resolution specialist. Every letter he wrote in our scriptures was to a church in turmoil. The Galatian church was torn over whether to require circumcision, the Corinthians over meat sacrifices to idles and factionalism, and the Romans over the role of Jewish law in the emerging Christian environment. In each case, the underlying issue boiled down to how two different cultures co-exist in the community. Can the Jewish culture from which Christianity emerged and the Greco-Roman culture of the Empire live together, or must one prevail over the other? We don’t have any responses to gauge his success rate other than he had to write the Corinthians at least twice. Some scholars argue this was his crowning achievement, and others say he failed. I guess he won and lost some; afterward, Greek philosophy overwhelmed the Hebrew worldview.

We have a window into the challenges of an expanding multi-cultural religious movement based on the life and teachings of Jesus. These letters give us some of our most poetic and profound words about love in action, mind-numbing discussions about Hebrew law, and occasional contradictions. Like why tell women they are equal and then say that they should not speak in church?  The essential legacy of these letters is that a church of Jesus’ followers must endeavor to love expansively enough to bridge culture, class, and ethnicity to form the Beloved Community that reflects the Kingdom of God. How do we claim Paul’s scriptural legacy in our divided culture?

Early in my ministry, I realized I was not good at handling conflict. I was a placator who wanted everyone to get along. When the church was in conflict, I worked relentlessly, going to different people to find a way for everyone to be happy. My unconscious belief was that if I were a good pastor and preached great sermons, my church would never have conflict. So, if there was conflict, I blamed myself. Ministry became exhausting, to the point of being ill, and I knew I needed to change.

I had a sabbatical and got a Lilly grant to study conflict transformation. I took several courses on mediation and reconciliation at the Eastern Mennonite Summer Peacebuilding Institute and then spent six weeks in Belfast, Northern Ireland. I had meant peace workers from Northern Ireland who connected me with people who had worked tirelessly through the Troubles and taught me about the courage and patience it takes to do the work of reconciliation.     

I returned to my church in New York, eager to use my newfound skills, and the congregation was keen to help, so they had conflicts with each other. Instead of engaging in shuttle diplomacy between the angry parties, I said, “It sounds like you need to talk with each other. Would you like me present to facilitate?” Not everyone liked this new approach. My ex-wife didn’t like that I stopped placating, and asking for more dialog. My Sunday School Superintendent said, “Todd, I liked you better when you fixed everything for us. This talking with each other is very hard.” She laughed at what she said and added, “But this is what we need.” 

My core convictions since then include:

·     Conflict is inevitable and not always bad. 

·     It never gets better by burying it and not talking about it, like the proverbial dirt swept under the rug never disappears. 

·     Coming to a place of collaboration and respect requires honesty, patience, and courage. 

Congregations all over America are trying to figure out how to live together amid a great ongoing national argument about who we will be in a divided and polarized nation. Many churches have chosen to pick sides in the cultural wars. This morning, hundreds of congregations will celebrate the election results of electing God’s chosen candidate. Jonathan Cahn, a pastor who was #5 on the NY Times bestseller list, has compared Trump to Jehu, the king who killed Ahab and Jezebel and everyone who followed them. He has called on Trump to be the avenger and purify America, ending abortion, homosexuality, and liberalism. Other congregations may look like the Democrat partly at prayer.

Some congregations will try a second path. They will try to ignore our political division and not talk about it. They will pull inward, focusing on loving each other in community and avoiding topics that might cause controversy. That option might sound safe and comfortable, but a mentor once told me that comfortable churches are dying churches. 

I led a workshop several years ago titled “How to Have Brave and Bold Conversations in church.” Initially, I asked people what they could not talk about in church. One person mentioned gun control. Another said, moving the pews. Abortion. Homosexuality. Money. Racism. The list grew long, and someone said, “We cannot talk about anything in church. No wonder our churches are dying. They are not honest or relevant, and who would come to a place where you can’t talk about what is happening in the world? It sounds like a cocktail party without the alcohol.” We may worry that people will leave if we talk about controversial things. But it is also true that if we avoid all controversy, a different group of people will leave because they feel unsupported and the church is irrelevant.

So, what are we called to do as disciples of the way of Jesus in this terrible and conflicted time? The answer is not straightforward because Jesus’ words can offer great comfort like:

Look to the lilies of the field, and do not worry. God will take care of you.

Come all who are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. 

And other times, Jesus says, “Pick up your cross and follow me.” He toppled the table of the money changers in the Temple and said he came to free the oppressed and was freer with the term “brood of vipers” than I would be. 

These seeming contradictions tell me that the church must hold together being a place of peace, serenity, and belonging, while also having the courage to be truthful and just. 

By chance I had two clergy meetings this week, before and after the election. We are all deeply concerned about both our nation and our churches. We don’t want to divide our congregations, and we also want to preach with integrity when our values are threatened. 

The common phrase we all hear is to “thread the needle.” What does it mean? Sometimes, it may simply acknowledge how hard it is to be any public figure today. It may mean to seek consensus. Some mean it as a compliment.

Sometimes, we hear, pastor, please be our miracle worker and say the right things that will make us feel like a community without us having to do the work of talking about our differences or the painful reality of what is happening in the world.

Many have told me they are scared and worried for the future and need a church where they feel safe to talk about it. People have asked me what will we do if some of the worst proposals come to pass? What if marriages are annulled for LBGTQ people? We might be relieved this election happened without violence, but what if violence against ethnic minorities, Muslims, Jews and gay people rise as they did after the 2016 election? What if women are going to be denied reproductive health care, even in the middle of a miscarriage?

Some people have told me not to make any waves, avoid controversy, and don’t name evil and injustice because it is upsetting. Others have challenged me to find my inner prophet and preach boldly against injustice. As I learned earlier in ministry, I cannot fulfill these conflicting desires. As a leader, if you look over your shoulder and no one is there, you are just out for a walk. I want to be your leader, in a way that is collaborative. This work belongs to us all.

The next steps for our congregation are not a complete mystery. I have been thinking about this week and preparing for it since January (which doesn’t mean I’m fully prepared!). My sermon series has been on topics like how to have more meaningful conversations as a spiritual practice. I have preached about the importance of eating together. We had dinners in each other’s homes and had a wonderful launch to Supper and Spirit last Sunday. Our book group has been reading “The Sin of Certainty” about embracing complexity and wisdom and moving through doubt to a richer understanding of God. Friends, I have hoped that all this work would give us the perspective, tools, and culture to meet this moment we face now after the election. 

We don’t have a new blueprint for our congregation, and perhaps we don’t need one. But we know our world is shifting, and we face changes we can’t fully predict. As we move forward, can we find a place where courage and grace meet, where honesty and love bridge our differences, and where every conversation draws us closer to the beloved community we seek to be.

If we commit together—to walk this path with respect, to listen without fear, to speak with conviction—then we can embody a deeper peace and justice the world is not able to find right now. Let’s not settle for comfort alone but reach for the transformative power of Christ’s love. This work isn’t easy, but it’s ours to do. Amen."