St. John’s Lutheran Church
Albany, New York
6 September 2026 + The Fifteenth Sunday after Pentecost
Proper 18 / Lectionary 23a
Matthew 18:15-20
The Rev. Josh Evans

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It’s not every Sunday
you encounter a gospel reading
that is cited in the ELCA Model Constitution for Congregations:

Chapter 15, Discipline of Members and Adjudication:
“Prior to disciplinary action,
reconciliation and repentance will be attempted
following Matthew 18:15-17,
proceeding through these successive steps, as necessary.”

It seems unlikely that Jesus intended these words
in Matthew 18:15-17
to serve as a constitutional template
for a mainline Protestant denomination
over two thousand years later,
nor is it meant to be a personnel handbook
or even Conflict Resolution for Dummies.

It is certainly useful for those things,
but it is also so much more than that.

It’s unfortunate that the ELCA Model Constitution
only cites three verses –
and the lectionary includes only a few more beyond that –
of a much longer discourse and teaching.

We miss a lot between last week’s gospel
and this week’s –
a whole chapter and a half –
stories and teachings that are integral
in building up to and understanding this specific teaching.

When last we left our adventuring party of disciples,
Peter had just confessed that Jesus is the Messiah –
a stunning proclamation…followed by a spectacular failure,
as Jesus then teaches Peter and the other disciples
that the Messiah will suffer and be killed.

Far from Peter’s expectations of a Messiah
who would take up arms against their political enemies
and prove himself victorious over their oppressors through military might,
the Messiah of God’s reign
follows the way of the cross,
emptying himself,
showing his love in humility and service,
in solidarity with the poor and oppressed,
in dying for his friends,
and, ultimately, in rising
for the life of the world.

Six days later,
a handful of disciples,
Peter included,
get to witness a profound moment of overwhelming glory
as Jesus is transfigured before them
with a voice from a cloud pronouncing both blessing and directive:
“This is my Son, the Beloved;
with him I am well pleased; listen to him!”

And almost as immediately as they come back
down from the mountain,
they encounter a man begging
on behalf of his son
for healing,
as Jesus is again drawn to a place of suffering,
in solidarity with one who is hurting and vulnerable,
to bring a word of life and wholeness,
curing the boy and giving him back to his family.

Then, once again,
Jesus reminds his disciples
that he will be betrayed and killed –
and the disciples are rightfully distressed,
still scrambling to understand what this means
for them.

“Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?”
they ask.
And Jesus finds from the crowd
a child,
one easily overlooked not only for their physical stature
but also for their social standing and perceived lack of value:
This right here is what my kingdom is all about.

And he doesn’t stop there:
“If any of you cause one of these little ones to [stumble],
it would be better for you if a great millstone were fastened around your neck
and you were drowned in the depth of the sea.”

I don’t think Jesus was making ominous threats
for the sake of making ominous threats,
but instead using hyperbole,
exaggerating to make a point
about how gravely serious he is
when it comes to those who are vulnerable –
and those who put them in harm’s way.

It’s like a shepherd who has a hundred sheep,
Jesus says,
struggling to keep the flock together,
to keep them safe and out of harm’s way,
when she notices that one has gone “astray.”
Not only is her livelihood at stake,
but so is the life and wellbeing of a lone and vulnerable sheep,
such that she goes off to track it down,
rejoices when she finds it,
and brings it back safely into the fold.

It is here, finally,
in the middle of a much longer discourse and teaching
on greatness and humility,
on vulnerability and the warning against causing harm,
on the loving care and mercy of a shepherd who seeks out her stray sheep,
that Jesus goes on:
“If your brother or sister sins against you…”

It is one thing to approach this passage in isolation,
purely as a conflict resolution flowchart.
But taken in context,
with humility as our starting point
and a shared recognition of our need for grace,
Jesus’ words offer a model for what it means
to live faithfully in community.

If your sibling has sinned against you,
if you have been put in harm’s way or made vulnerable,
if your relationship has been ruptured
and has put in jeopardy the wellbeing of the whole community,
here’s how to respond.

Gossip
and triangulate
and tell everybody about the bad thing so-and-so did –
everything except for talking to so-and-so directly?
No.

Start small.
Go to your sibling.
Tell them plainly the harm that has been caused.

This isn’t about “winning” an argument.
It’s about “regaining” your sibling –
repairing what has been broken
and making the community whole again.

Only if that one-on-one conversation doesn’t work,
bring some others along.
Widen the circle of concern.
Help them to see how important this community is.
When one member suffers…

Sometimes, when all else fails,
you might need to distance yourself –
for your own wellbeing
and the wellbeing of the whole.

But even then,
in that place of distance,
the way forward is still open-ended:
Let such a one be to you as – what? –
a gentile and a tax collector.

That phrasing should sound familiar –
and give us hope:
“As Jesus sat at dinner in the house,
many tax collectors and sinners came
and were sitting with Jesus and his disciples.
When the Pharisees saw this, they said to his disciples,
‘Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?’” (Matthew 9:10-11)

Why?
Because Jesus,
the Messiah who walks the way of the cross,
is continually seeking out the outsider,
inviting into fellowship those who are in need of mercy,
restoring all into community.

This is not merely conflict resolution.
This is a model for what it means
to live faithfully in community.

A community that takes seriously
those who are most vulnerable.

A community that rejects greatness in favor of humility,
recognizing that we all have the capacity for causing harm.

A community that names harm when harm has been done,
not returning harm in kind,
but inviting repentance and reconciliation.

To be clear,
this is not asking those who have been harmed
to minimize the harm
or to continue to put themselves in harm’s way.
It is also not meant to cover up the harm
or eliminate the need for accountability,
especially for those offenses that go beyond the church’s purview.

This is about how we live together in community –
when expectations aren’t met,
when careless words are spoken,
when feelings are hurt,
when our worries and fears get the better of us
and we do or say things we regret.

This is about a God who calls us
back to community –
to protect the vulnerable,
to seek the lost,
to extend grace and forgiveness,
as we ourselves have received grace and forgiveness.

Jesus’ words are so much more
than a citation in the ELCA Model Constitution,
a personnel handbook,
or a conflict resolution flowchart.

Jesus’ words show us a model
for what it means to live faithfully in community –
a community centered
and reconciling in Christ.

Because in Christ
is healing and wholeness,
forgiveness and endless opportunities to start again.

Because where two or three are gathered in Christ’s name,
there Christ promises to be:
with the vulnerable,
seeking the lost,
welcoming the outsider in,
restoring what is broken and making it whole.

And Christ, who promises to be with us,
invites us into a ministry of reconciliation together,
not shying away from the hard and messy work
of building beloved community,
but entering into it
with humility
and grace.