Amongst the Reconciled: a change of course and of fate in the Kingdom

(Mt 18:15–20)

«The verb the evangelist uses for “they will be in harmony” is synphōnēsōsin: there is a reference to a “symphony” of hearts» [Pope Benedict, Vespers at the conclusion of the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity, 25 January 2006].

This new, malleable energy has a mysterious hold on the heart of reality – which is always stronger than we are; it weaves the fabric of life and sets the course, yet here, conversely, it welcomes us.

That is to say, it unsettles us with a sense of unease… which, however, is already the remedy. For every tear leads us towards the deepest layers of our primordial being, of our seed and its own world of relationships.

And so the soul melts away, becomes less convoluted, follows a path it had not envisaged; it rediscovers the intoxicating path of deep harmonies, abandoning the inferior path.

It favours the Way that corresponds to it, rather than mere identifications: all the idols that previously held sway, which – despite appearances – were at odds with our essential destiny.

– Without fleeing from ourselves, but only from external conventions, together we can move from one-sidedness to wholeness, from banality to fulfilment; to the reason why we are in the world; to the destiny of the being that we are.

Perhaps we were unable to perceive this before, because our gaze bounced between the walls of our usual domestication.

And the fleeting, habitual thought did not destroy the [unperceived] idea of ourselves; an idea that went unheeded, which did not fade away.

Fraternal correction grips us by the throat, but it is that bitterness which brings us back to what is essential; it is that anxiety (if accepted) which truly heals us.

    After the destruction of Jerusalem, the contrast between the world of the synagogue and the new brotherhoods in Christ was growing ever sharper.

Those who had converted to the Lord Jesus from the Judaising communities of Galilee and Syria were experiencing a time of great tension, even within their own families.

At the same time, an influx of pagans was beginning, which gradually accentuated the rift with Judaism – both in the external comparison between the synagogue and the ‘ecclesìa’, and in the internal debate within the small assemblies.

It was by no means easy to rebuild relationships and foster dialogue between people from different backgrounds, whose cultural heritage was marked by adherence to archaic forms of religiosity; a devotion that made them obstinate in everything.

But the Risen One sees far ahead.

In the spirit of Faith that supplants the narrow-mindedness of impulsive or idolatrous convictions, Matthew seeks to foster harmony amidst differences within his communities.

The evangelist does this by emphasising reconciliation, and the rightful place of those who wished to become a living sign of the Lord’s Presence.

At the thresholds of the tiny churches, the newcomers often failed to find a warm welcome; rather, they had to endure scrutiny and trials at the hands of distrustful veterans, and live in an atmosphere of suspicion.

The ‘top of the class’, ever scrupulous in defending their beliefs and prominent positions, felt the presence of certain fellow believers (who were freer than themselves) to be a hindrance and a burden.

Many pagans, initially trusting and motivated by innocent expectations, were also drifting away, annoyed by the distrustful atmosphere fostered by the hardliners. Legalists who, in effect, tended to reproduce the very same competitive atmosphere found in the ancient religions.

Other defections were also driven by the emergence of grey areas and internal scandals.

Some perhaps took advantage of the management of assets, or, despite their formal conversion, remained selfish and held on to what was theirs – usurping the dignity of the least among them and marring the atmosphere of cordiality.

Almost all of these people [the very ones who sought to corner the newcomers or the wayward] jostled for precedence, creating a climate of resentment that exacerbated friction and eroded the Faith, eventually leading to its historical downfall.

Matthew suggests dialogue, which seeks to understand the other’s motives.

In fact, in the early Jewish-Christian communities, the atmosphere was perhaps excessively scrupulous. [Later, excommunication also became a weapon...].

Thus, separation from the community was also envisaged, but the awareness remained that the sinner was not, in any case, separated from God, even ‘outside’ the particular church: ‘Where two or three are gathered in my Name...’ (v.20).

This is at the heart of the new pedagogical approach – no longer ‘religious’ and mass-oriented, but one of living, personal faith.

The expression ‘in my Name’ indicates that Jesus himself had his fair share of trouble with the judgemental people of his time.

It is all very real. Even exclusion can unite one to Him and bring Him to life in a very real way, indeed.

If the true Christ – not some vague concept – remains the linchpin of brotherhood, the Father will grant the return of the brother who has excluded himself.

Obviously, this can only happen if the person who has been excluded experiences that, first and foremost, those in charge of the community seek a human dialogue – not acting like little princes, but rather adopting the very same stance as the Master: ‘in the midst’.

Equidistant from everyone, and every now and then with a good rotation of duties – a provision laid down by the new canon law, but completely disregarded on the ground – because still, only the chosen few can in fact stick their noses into matters of importance, and have a hand and a foot in prominent roles.

Those who still show us Jesus alive today do not stand ‘above’ others; they do not take the lead, nor do they place themselves ‘at the front’ [so that some are close and others always remain distant].

People amongst the people. We are called to rediscover the bond between honouring God and loving our sisters and brothers – not only those of the same faith.

Love calls forth love; forgiveness naturally draws forth forgiveness – not through effort, not out of good manners or duty, but as a channel through which new, preparatory energies and unexpected twists can enter the world.

A striking sign of the Church is the reversal of roles and fortunes. The ‘victory-or-defeat’ dichotomy is false: we must move beyond it.

To internalise and live out the message:

What convinces people to forgive or to practise fraternal correction? Perhaps the example of selflessness and the way church leaders conduct themselves? 

Do they correct one another kindly, or is there envy and friction amongst them?

In your community, is the person who claims to represent Christ found amongst the people, or are they always at the head of the line and at the head of the table?

Forgiveness in the unlimited leap of Faith

(Mt 18:21-35)

Throughout the ancient Middle East, non-disproportionate retaliation one to one [not cruel] was a sacred law.

Forgiveness was a humiliating and absurd attitude, an incomprehensible principle to anyone experiencing any injustice.

Conversely, in the dynamic of Faith, forgiveness becomes a power, which not only makes the air breathable, but activates our personal destiny.

Peter instead wants to know the limits of forgiveness (v.21).

Historically, at the end of the first century the picky, severe, style of the synagogue and of the Empire [«divide et impera»] reappear in believers. 

A question arises: will we have to stop welcoming?

In addition, in the same churches one begins to think that someone has sinned in lese majesty towards those who - now hard and heartless - are used to being revered.

Veterans who make trouble more than others and then dot on the minutiae of others (the weak brothers, considered subjected and destined to the fiscal rigour of moralisms, as well as penances).

While religious discipline exacerbates minute defects, the very experience of the disproportion between the forgiveness received from the Father and what we are able to offer to the brothers, makes us understand the need for tolerance.

Church should be this space of the experience of God who return life, an alternative place of fraternity.

Imperial society was harsh and uncompassionate, with no room for the small and shaky, who unassumingly sought any refuge for their hearts - but no religion gave them an answer.

Synagogues, too, identified material and spiritual blessings. Cloaked with requirements, purity rules and fulfilments, they did not offer the warmth of a welcoming place for the weak.

The issue was that in the early Christian communities themselves, some people insisted on the rigour of norms, customs and hierarchies, demanding coexistence based on the Judaizing model.

Furthermore, as the Letter of James testifies, towards the end of the first century the identical divisions of society, between miserables and wealthy, were already beginning to manifest themselves in the churches of Christ!

Welcoming space of the communities that in the Spirit had been given the task by the Lord to enlighten the world with their seed of life as a ‘shelter for all’ (and of alternative relationships) ran the risk of becoming again a place of conflict, judgement, punishment, condemnation.

«So also my heavenly Father will do to you, if you do not condone each one to his own brother from your heart» (v.35).

Divine forgiveness becomes effective and evident only in the testimony of the Church (v.35) where sisters and brothers - instead of showing themselves to be meticulous, let themselves be guided by a Vision of new heavens and new earth.

For this reason - without any effort, indeed blessing the needs of others as territories of preparatory energies - they live the communion of resources and remit even material debts, a misery.

Otherwise, we would always have to live in the incumbency of an indulgent God perhaps, but at times, and according to the cases retracting the doing of mercy.

It would be a life without surprising developments, all weighted down in a swamp of little pennies.

Instead, it’s the active energy of the Faith that doesn’t condemn us to trudge.

The magnanimity that comes out of the automatisms shifts our gaze and brings us an ineffable and growing wave, far ahead of what we can imagine.

Our surrenders are preparing new developments - the ones that count, without limitations.

The "win-or-lose" alternative is false: you have to get out of it.