A Conflict-Resolution Flowchart, 1st Century Style
Today I read Matthew 18, and what caught my attention was the section about handling conflict within a community (Matthew 18:15–20, NLT). It lays out a kind of process: if someone wrongs you, talk to them privately. If that doesn’t work, bring one or two others into the conversation. If the issue still isn’t resolved, bring it before the wider group. And if even then there’s no movement, the person is to be treated as “a pagan or a corrupt tax collector.”
Step One: Talk It Out (Awkward but Necessary)
What interests me here is how structured this is. It almost reads like an early version of conflict mediation or organizational policy. The idea isn’t to escalate immediately or shame someone publicly but to start small and personal—just one person talking to another. That step feels very human. Most of us know how difficult it is to approach someone who has hurt us, yet the text begins there rather than with punishment or avoidance.
Step Two: Bring Backup (But Leave the Pitchforks at Home)
The progression also shows a kind of layering of accountability. There’s a sense that problems shouldn’t stay private forever if they continue. The involvement of others isn’t framed as gossip but as support and verification. In modern terms, it makes me think of checks and balances—ensuring that one person’s claim isn’t standing alone, but also that the wrong isn’t ignored.
Step Three: Community Call-Out
Then there’s the final stage, which is harder to unpack. Treating someone “as a pagan or a corrupt tax collector” could mean exclusion. But I wonder if, in the cultural context, it wasn’t just about punishment but about boundaries—acknowledging when someone has chosen not to participate in the community’s shared values. In a way, it’s an acknowledgment that not every relationship can be repaired.
From Conflict to Unity
What fascinates me even more is the next verse: “I also tell you this: If two of you agree here on earth concerning anything you ask, my Father in heaven will do it for you” (Matthew 18:19, NLT). Right after instructions about conflict, the text turns to agreement and unity. There’s almost a contrast—where conflict exists, there’s a process; but where harmony exists, there’s power.
Why This Still Feels Familiar
Thinking about this in a modern setting, I see echoes in workplaces, families, and even online communities. We all wrestle with how to respond when trust is broken or when someone’s behavior causes harm. Do we confront directly? Do we bring in others? When do we step away entirely? None of these questions are easy, and the answers aren’t always clear. But the structure here suggests that communities survive by taking conflict seriously—not ignoring it, not immediately punishing, but engaging in a process that starts with conversation.
For me, this section highlights the tension between patience and boundaries. How far should one go in trying to repair a relationship? When does the effort itself become unhealthy? The text doesn’t erase those questions, but it does offer a model: begin personally, add support, and eventually recognize when resolution isn’t possible. That feels like advice still relevant in many human circles today.