How To Be a Conflictive Christian

Pastor Marissa preached this sermon on September 6, 2026 at Beechmont Presbyterian Church on Matthew 18:15-20.

Avoiding Conflict

When writing about this passage, Brian Erickson notes that, even though there are a lot of parables that are complex and can hide multiple meanings, this passage seems pretty straightforward. Jesus seems to be speaking about conflict resolution and offering a four-step disciplinary procedure to use when you have an issue with someone:

private conversation → witnesses → church → expulsion.

But the problem is, Erickson says, that churches are some of the most indirect, passive (passive-aggressive?) places in the world.

He tells the story of a church that was so intimidated by their elderly, longtime organist that they couldn’t bring themselves to fire her. So they threw her a retirement party.

When that didn’t work, they gave away the organ.

As we were saying last week, being part of a church family is hard. Being part of any family can be hard. There are misunderstandings, hurt feelings, gossip, and old grudges. There are different opinions, social allergens, and, in our case, cultural differences and different languages.

Being passive or passive-aggressive is not the solution, especially because it communicates things sideways: through silence, sarcasm, withdrawal, pointed jokes, vague Facebook posts, withholding cooperation, or even that wonderfully weaponized Christian phrase: “I’m praying for you.”

On the other hand, we have debates.

I’ve watched several debates produced by a YouTube channel called Jubilee, where people are surrounded by others with sharply different views and take turns facing off against one another. The problem is that this kind of debate culture usually turns conflict into combat.

People do not really listen to each other. The goal becomes winning, to expose the weakness of the other person, to produce the devastating comeback, to get the clip that proves your side won.

And people often declare themselves the victors without noticing that somewhere along the way they stopped listening in order to understand and started listening for the opening they could use against the other person.

That does not solve conflict.

In fact, both approaches avoid real conflict.

Passiveness avoids conflict by avoiding directness.

Combative debate avoids conflict by avoiding vulnerability.

And both seek to protect us from what can be the scariest part of real conflict: the possibility that an honest encounter with another person might change something in us.

What Should Be the Goal of Conflict?

Some years ago, I took a webinar with the Lombard Mennonite Peace Center. Their training includes identifying one’s own conflict-response style, developing communication skills for peaceful resolution, preventing destructive congregational conflict, and learning “win-win” approaches to decision-making.

But the most important thing I remember is this: you cannot evade conflict. Conflict is part of everyday life. The goal when dealing with conflict is not winning but restoring relationship.

And that is really close to what Jesus proposes in this passage.

As I mentioned before, a lot of Christians read Jesus’ instructions here primarily as a disciplinary procedure: someone sins, you confront them; you bring witnesses so they can see the bad things the person has done; then, if the person does not repent, you take it to the church; and then, if they still don’t behave a certain way, you throw them out.

But verse 15 gives us the goal of Jesus’ counsel: “If the member listens to you, you have regained that one.”

That, you could say, is the heartbeat of the passage.

It is not proving that you are right.

It is not gossiping about the member behind their back.

It is not winning the argument.

What you are after, the best outcome possible, Jesus says, is regaining a sibling.

And it is interesting that, if you read the whole passage with that goal in mind, then the part about treating someone as “a Gentile and a tax collector” also looks a little different.

It cannot simply become an invitation to cruelty or condemnation. There may be a point when boundaries have to be established, when behavior has consequences, and when the community needs protection. Reconciliation cannot be forced upon someone who refuses accountability.

But even then, the goal is not revenge.

We do not stop hoping for restoration. We continue to pray. We continue to witness. We continue to leave open the possibility that repentance, transformation, and reconciliation can happen.

After all, we might want to remember how Jesus himself treated Gentiles and tax collectors. And that Matthew was a tax collector himself. He knew what Jesus was about.

So, the goal continues to be reconciliation—not humiliation, revenge, or eternal condemnation.

What Do We Do with Conflict Today?

Raquel St. Clair identifies social media as a primary force shaping how we navigate conflict today.

Facebook, where friendships are made by addition, has also made the loss of friendships incredibly easy. Unfriend. Touch of a button. Done.

It is also easy to start debating with someone without ever having to see them face to face.

St. Clair also emphasizes that modern conflict threatens the bonds of fellowship among those who profess Jesus as Lord. Political affiliations, candidate support, and stances on divisive issues have caused Christians to question one another’s faith commitments.

Yet passages like this one continue to offer us a counternarrative.

There is a call here to kinship and reconciliation.

Don’t post on Facebook first!

Talk to each other.

Begin with direct, respectful conversation and preserve the other person’s dignity.

Remember: the objective is restoration, not victory.

And when direct conversation fails...

Don’t post on Facebook!

Widen the circle carefully, not to overpower the person, but to establish accountability and discernment.

Recognize when the conflict affects the rest of the community and act wisely.

Pray together.

Speak your truth in love.

Seek fair and restorative discipline when needed.

And trust that Christ is there; present in every difficulty, every uncomfortable conversation, every fear.

“For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them.”

And remember...

Don’t post about it on Facebook.

Reconciliation does not mean pretending nothing happened.

Truth matters.

Sin can be named.

Accountability is real.

The community has responsibilities.

But neither does discipline have punishment or exclusion as its primary purpose. Its horizon is the restoration of persons and community under the lordship of Christ.

Managing Conflict with the Elderly Organist

So I wonder what would have happened in that church with the elderly organist if they had actually followed healthy conflict resolution.

First, they would have identified and named the actual problem.

What was wrong? Was she no longer able to play adequately? Was she controlling worship? Was she refusing direction? Was there a change in the congregation’s musical needs? Had her behavior become harmful?

“We need to get rid of her” isn’t really a description of the conflict.

Healthy conflict begins by identifying the concrete behavior or situation that needs to change.

Second, someone with appropriate responsibility would have gone directly to her.

And that conversation would need to be truthful, loving, and humane: “We are grateful for the many years you have served this congregation. We also need to talk about some concerns regarding your role as organist and what the church needs going forward.”

And then, and this is crucial, they would listen to her.

Maybe she knew she was struggling and was terrified of losing a role that had become central to her identity. Maybe nobody had ever told her there was a problem. Maybe she had complaints of her own. Maybe some of the congregation’s assumptions about her were wrong. Or maybe she really was difficult and unwilling to change.

Healthy conflict doesn’t guarantee that everybody will agree.

It guarantees that people are given the dignity of participating honestly in a conflict that concerns them.

Then they could have established clear expectations and consequences: Here is what needs to change. Here is what we can offer to help. Here is when we will evaluate the situation again.

And if these things cannot change, we will need to talk about concluding your employment.

And if termination eventually became necessary, they could have done it openly, compassionately, and clearly.

Because when we refuse to deal with conflict, we often begin solving everything except the actual problem.

We rearrange programs.

We change committees.

We change worship.

We change policies.

We leave churches.

Apparently, sometimes we give away organs.

Anything except saying: “Sister, we need to talk.”

We need to understand that peace is not the absence of an uncomfortable conversation.

Sometimes peace is what becomes possible because we finally had the uncomfortable conversation.

And this is how we get to be good conflictive Christians.

Because Jesus does not teach us how to build communities without conflict.

Jesus teaches us how to become communities brave enough to tell the truth in love, humble enough to listen to one another, and committed enough to remain in relationship while we deal with what is difficult.

And sometimes reconciliation means remaining together.

Sometimes reconciliation means somebody stops being the organist.

And sometimes reconciliation means that, even when a relationship or a role has to change, we take the time to recognize someone’s service and end things in a healthy and loving way.

But always remembering the goal: regain a sibling.

Because, as Paul reminds us in Romans, “love is the fulfilling of the law.”

Perhaps that is what being a conflictive Christian really means.

Not someone who goes around creating conflict.

We already have enough people volunteering for that job.

But someone who refuses to run away from conflict. Someone willing to speak honestly without cruelty. Someone willing to listen without preparing the next comeback. Someone willing to risk being changed by the truth of another person. Someone willing to seek accountability without giving up on relationship.

Someone willing to believe that even in the uncomfortable room, even in the difficult conversation, even when two or three people are struggling to find their way back to one another, Christ is there among them.

Amen.