15 “If your brother sins against you, go and show him his fault, just between the two of you. If he listens to you, you have won your brother over. 16 But if he will not listen, take one or two others along, so that ‘every matter may be established by the testimony of two or three witnesses.’ 17 If he refuses to listen to them, tell it to the church; and if he refuses to listen even to the church, treat him as you would a pagan or a tax collector.
18 “I tell you the truth, whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.
19 “Again, I tell you that if two of you on earth agree about anything you ask for, it will be done for you by my Father in heaven. 20 For where two or three come together in my name, there am I with them.”
Peter slammed the door shut behind him as he stumbled into his apartment building. His coat was soaked, his briefcase hanging limply from his hand like a soggy doll. He shoved his coat off, letting it splat on the floor and flung his briefcase into the armchair at the far end of the living room. He stood for a few moments in the foyer, wiping the water off his face.
"Caught in the rain?" he heard around the corner. His wife Cara was in the kitchen, putting away the last of the dishes from the drying rack. She was garbed in an elegant green dress, her hair woven and pinned carefully. It must have taken her hours. She gave him a sympathetic smirk.
"I'm so sorry, honey. I forgot about dinner," he said. "Let me throw on a change of clothes, and we'll go."
As he turned to leave, Cara caught him at the arm. "Something's bothering you," she said. "What's wrong?"
He managed a smile. "Nothing," he said, heading toward the bedroom.
"It's not nothing. You're upset."
"Well, yes,” he said, his shoulders sagging. “That's one way of putting it."
"What's another way?" she asked.
"Bill stole one of my clients today," he said, exasperated.
"You mean 'Bill from our small group' Bill?"
"The very same. Remember when we were giving prayer requests, and I mentioned that I was having trouble with a client? Well, Bill guessed who it was and undercut me. I couldn't believe it. I got the call today."
Cara draped her arms over him, rubbing his back. "It'll be okay," she said. "You have other clients, right? And you can get new ones."
"But this was my biggest client," he said, sighing. "I'm afraid I'm going to get fired over this."
Cara couldn't say anything at first. The words choked up within her. She simply held her husband tighter and listened to him breathe. His clothes were drenched, soaking her dress, but she didn't mind. After awhile, he righted himself.
"I'll get dressed and we can go," he said.
"Wait," she said, pulling out a chair at the dinner table and sitting down. "Let's discuss this. There must be something you can do."
Peter cocked an eyebrow. "Like what?"
"Well, you could talk to Bill. He goes to our church, and he seems like a nice enough guy. Just go over and talk to him."
"Right, that'll do a whole lot," he said with a sarcastic laugh. "What am I supposed to do? Beg?"
"No," she said, staring straight into his eyes. "You tell him that he sinned against you."
Peter started at that. "That's a little harsh, honey," he said.
"No it's not," she said. "If it happened the way you said it did, then that's stealing. He stole from you, honey."
Peter looked up at her, helpless. "What does that change?"
"Everything!" she nearly shouted. "Go and confront him. Be a man about this. Better yet, be a Christian about this. If he did something wrong, then he should know about it. Jesus rebuked people all the time for stuff like that. Bill sinned against you, so you should confront him. Simple as that."
"Didn't Jesus also forgive us our sins?"
"Yes, that's true. But at the same time, they also knew that they were being forgiven. You have to go and confront him before you can forgive him. Either way, you need to let him know that he did something wrong. Otherwise, he'll do it again to someone else."
"You don't know Bill the way I do," he said. "He'll laugh me out of his office. He'll turn it around so that it's my fault. He'll say that I was treating the client bad or that I was being lazy. I've had run-ins with him before. He'll just turn it around on me."
"Okay," she said, holding out her hands. "Let's say he does all that. But you have to give him the benefit of the doubt. Go and confront him about it. Tell him that you think he did something wrong. Tell him that you expect better from someone in your life group and that God expects better from someone who claims to worship Him. Then, forgive him. After that, it's up to him whether or not he gives your client back."
"But what if he just laughs at me and doesn't do what I ask?"
"You have Phil and Tom in your office, right? They go to our church, and I'm sure you already told them what happened. Take them with you. That way you have some witnesses to back you up. Safety in numbers, right? If Bill realizes that he's affected more people than just you and that you have some Christian friends who agree with you, then maybe he'll be more inclined to listen."
Peter cupped his face in his hands. "Bill would just get threatened by them. He'll act like we're ganging up on him. Like we're holier-than-thou. Bill's done it before. He'll get indignant and say that we shouldn't judge other people."
She threw up her hands. "If it comes to that, then take it to the small group. Or talk to the pastor. The elders, even. Talk to the church. Bring it up in the elders meeting and see if they can do anything about it. Or bring it up on Sunday morning and see what everyone thinks. If everyone agrees with you, then Bill will have to give your client back. If he doesn't, at least everyone will know you're in the right."
Peter looked up at Cara for a moment, examining her. She was so determined, sitting in that chair, her eyes bright and blazing like seraph's wings. The two said nothing, letting the pounding rain outside fill their silence. After awhile, Peter sighed in resignation. "Honestly, Cara, what will that change? The church can't make him do anything. And if they try, he can leave and go to church somewhere else. Any way you look at it, he's got the client and I don't."
"It's about more than that, Peter."
"Is it?" he asked. "What is it about, then?"
She tilted in her chair, taken aback. "I don't know,” she said.
He leaned forward in his chair, hijacking the dinner table. "Even if I forgive him, what does that matter? What changes for us?"
She bowed her head, baffled. "I don't know."
"It's so frustrating. What can the church do anyway?"
"I don't know," she said softly.
"Let's just go," he said, pushing himself up from his chair. He stomped down the hall and into their bedroom. The door thundered shut.
She got up from the table and walked over to the closet, pulling out a long black coat and wrapping it around her shoulders. She turned back toward the kitchen and noticed a picture bound to the refrigerator with a magnet. It was a picture of their small group volunteering at the local homeless shelter. Peter and Bill stood next to each other in the photograph, grinning like comrades.
She lifted the magnet and pulled the picture away. The photo went loose in her hand, the picture sloping away from her eyes so that she could no longer see Bill's face. Almost as if Peter was standing next to no one.
"Ready to go?" Peter stood in the threshold, waiting.
She nodded and followed him. On the way, she noticed the trashcan standing in the corner of the kitchen. She looked at the picture again and shook her head. It’s just too bad, she thought. But what more can we do? What can the Church do?
She let the picture fall into the trash, grabbed her purse and followed her husband out the door.
Kyle Welch
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