Pentecost 15A 2026

THE REV. E. WAYNE ROLLINS

I once faced a group of children and asked a question. “What’s it like to be Christian?” One kid spoke up immediately. “It means to be nice.” This was in that very wide Bible-belt region where many who claimed the title “Christian” were more likely to condemn those who weren’t just like them than they were to ponder whether they themselves offered an image of the risen Christ. 

I wasn’t sure what I might have heard as an answer to my question, but as I think about it now, it seems like I was given an easy out. I say that because many of our ideas of “being nice” mean we give in to many of the ways that enable and support conflict, just so we can avoid it. 

So, let me ask another question. How many of you here really enjoy conflict? 

I ask that in full confidence that I’m not preaching at the Red Mass, with a congregation of legal professionals whose livelihood often entails engaging in conflict. I also ask that as one who must confess an avoidance of conflict as much as possible. It’s something I learned watching my own mother, who shied away from any conflict. 

I also ask that question in full confidence that I am standing before a congregation that is conflict averse, and who avoid any open expression of conflict in favor of appearing “nice.” You might have discerned that I’ve outgrown a bit of my conflict avoidance by now. 

I once attended a workshop to help us learn how to deal with conflict. It didn’t hurt that it was in Honolulu in February, where conflict seemed to be washed away by the surf on Waikiki Beach just on the other side of our windows. Our greatest conflict at that point seemed to be with distraction. 

We were taught how to “handle” those who thrive on conflict. I learned soon after that the techniques we discussed didn’t really resolve conflict; instead, they seemed to require reinforcing the box we tried to place the sources of conflict in. 

Call it God’s will, karma, or God’s sense of humor, I shortly found myself as rector in the most conflicted parish in that diocese. They didn’t like female clergy but had a female bishop. They didn’t like the ordination of LGBT persons. There was a hidden history of clerical abuse related to that, but I didn’t know that yet. I soon discovered that they really didn’t like each other all that much sometimes, either. It seemed like when they had a choice of biblical persons to imitate, they chose the Pharisees. 

Today’s Gospel gives us a lesson in how to deal with conflict. Telling someone they’re headed for Hell isn’t in the syllabus. Neither is playing nice and letting abuse and bullying win the day. 

The Gospel teaches us that conflict resolution is first and foremost based in relationship. A wounded person is to go to the one who caused the wounds and explain their perspective in a way that is honest but not threatening. The conversation occurs in the spirit of reconciliation, not vengeance. If reconciliation does not occur, then a witness is added. If that doesn’t work, then the whole congregation is informed, still, mind you, in a spirit of reconciliation. 

If all that is ineffective in restoring the relationship, then the offending person is to be treated “as a Gentile,” an outsider. This is not, at least at first, what we might call excommunication, but rather an opportunity for evangelism. It is an opening to teach again the reconciling love shown to all of us on the cross and an invitation to share in its humility in a desire to also share in the resurrection to new life. 

If reconciliation comes about, we then have to admit that the new relationship will be different from what it was, at least for awhile. We cannot forget, nor can we pretend that the wounds have not occurred, especially when scars remain visible. Maybe that’s one reason why Jesus showed his amazed disciples his own scars after he was raised from the dead. 

We cannot avoid conflict, and to say there is no conflict is to live in denial, no matter where or who we are. I’ve said many times after several decades of church work, where two or three are gathered, there are probably at least five opinions. I sometimes experience conflicting opinions in my own household, and I live alone! 

Living in the love of Christ means we hold each other to some form of accountability. In fact, we can only do that, hold each other accountable, when we love each other enough to help ensure we are faithful to the truth given to us in the Word made flesh. 

To deny accountability, to avoid speaking the truth in love in order to avoid conflict, is to deny the possibility of redemption for both of us. As I told a friend one evening regarding that avoidance, if we deny redemption, we might just remove ourselves from possibilities of salvation. 

The effects resulting from that conversation are that conflict continues to endure in the minds of some. And as a result, we are outsiders to each other. Children of God, gathered together, the work continues. 

That work includes our accepting that, from a Christian perspective, conflict resolution is not a “win/lose” proposition according to cultural standards. If we must use competitive terms like "win" or "lose," the Gospel teaches us that the only “win” is to restore the relationship in some life-giving way. If that does not, or cannot happen, then everyone loses. 

This holds true for personal relationships, parish health and growth, and even for a nation that has chosen to ensnare itself in “forever wars” ever since victory seemed like a forever gift after 1945. 

And while we treat competition as a game, when it comes to relationships, it’s life and death, not life or death. Moses set that choice before us. Wisdom continues to await our making the correct choice. 
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As I said, the work continues.