I often met with a minister friend to share everything from our family life, to personal struggles, to our ministry victories and challenges. One item that often came up was how to handle issues of discipline in the church. One day my friend shared with me how strict he was when dealing with matters of sexual immorality in the church.
"I preach righteousness," he said, "and I stand for it. If someone is caught in sin, I don't care who they are, they have to confess their sin before the whole church, and then I put them under discipline for six months. During this time they cannot do anything in the church except attend. This is necessary for the purity of the church, and I will never bend from that." I tried to offer a different, more nuanced, perspective, but he was convinced his way was the only way, so I let it be.
But how do you publicly remove your own daughter from every aspect of church life except attending worship?
A few months after that conversation, my pastor friend's only daughter, who was unmarried, broke the news to her parents that she was two months pregnant. The pastor was heartbroken. In tears he told me the story. And because of his set way of handling matters like this, he knew what had to be done. But how do you publicly remove your own daughter from every aspect of church life except attending worship? How do you force your own daughter and the man in her life to stand in front of the church to share how they messed up? Will people see the failure of the daughter, or of the father?
My friend was aching because he could not show favoritism to his daughter when he had insisted others must be disciplined. It had to be done, but as a Swahili saying goes, "Kinyozi hajinyoi" (a barber does not shave himself), he asked me to announce the removal of his daughter and the young man on his behalf. I agreed to fill in for my friend that Sunday.
Of course, he asked me to do it their church's way, but I was wondering if their church's way was Jesus' way? If Jesus were leading that service, how would he handle it? These were the questions running through my mind even on the way to the church that Sunday.
One tense Sunday
I arrived and the tension was heavy. I was introduced as the guest minister of the day. The pastor had asked me to start with the discipline then go on and preach. But when I stood to minister, I went a different direction. I started by preaching. My text was the parable of the prodigal son (Luke 15:11-32), and I chose not to talk about the son, primarily, but the father.
If Jesus were leading that service, how would he handle it?
In that story, we see God as our Father, who owns everything that we may need. The Bible is clear that he owns cattle on a thousand hills (Ps. 50:10), silver and gold are his, and he owns the earth and everything therein (Ps. 24:1). I shared why it is wrong for a believer to forsake their faith for the riches of the world. But the prodigal son wanted only his father's riches and asked for his share of the inheritance.
In time, of course, he lost all that he had and was in poverty. He asked himself. "How many of my father's hired servants have enough even to spare. And here I die?" (Luke 15:17).
The father sat longing and looking forward to the return of his son. While the son was suffering in a foreign land, the father was looking for his return. While the son was struggling with guilt and pain, the father was looking for the day he would come back home. Today, God is looking forward to someone's return. Come back home, our Father is looking forward to your return. You are more precious than the properties and the monies that you misused. Come back home. Our Father awaits.
The Bible calls us to be holy just as our father is holy. I would also say, be compassionate just like our God is. Compassion is love in action. The father did not just pity the son, he restored him back to the family. God is always ready to restore us when we are willing to come back to him.
The Bible says that the father saw his son while he was at a distance and run towards him (Luke 15:20). Emaciated, shaggy and dirty as he was, the father recognised him from afar. Our Father does not know us because of the clothes that we wear or the haircut that we keep. He knows us by heart. No matter how far you are from the Father, no matter how long you have stayed away, he still knows you. He knows your heart. He longs for you to return. You don't have to hide from him.
The turning point
I went on to expound on the mercies of God in contrast to the condemnation from men and the Devil. I told the story of when I was a small boy and stole some mangoes. My big sister got to know about it. She used that information to get me to do things for her. She threatened to tell my dad if I did not do what she wanted. This continued for months. One day she threatened to expose the theft if I did not give her my share of bread, which was a rare commodity in our home then.
I was so tired of her threats, I decided to break the news and apologize to my dad that day. "Dad, forgive me. Many months ago I stole mangoes from our neighbor and my heart has never been at peace," I said. My dad thanked me for making the confession and told me never to steal again. I had not needed to put up with the sufferings and stress of my sister's blackmail. It is the same when any of us has sinned. We can confess them to the heavenly father who loves us.
I was not through with my sermon when the pastor's daughter came forward in tears. She was ready to return to Jesus. As I prayed with her, the young man joined her. I had assumed that they were the primary ones who needed this sermon.
But in just a few moments, the front of the church was packed with people coming forward to either recommit or to give their lives to Jesus. The power of God came down in a big way.
After the service I wept as I listened to the pastor's wife tell me that she had learned to look at things differently.
"The mess of my daughter's situation has become the ground of God to heal the sick, save the lost, and for God to manifest his love and power," she said. Her husband was also in tears seeing how God used the occasion to show his power. He had seen a different way of handling those who fall.
I don't speak or write as an expert of handling such cases, no. There could be better ways of doing it, but as God's servants, we must keep remember that we are not called to punish those who fall but to restore them (Gal. 6:1).
Patrick Nyaga is pastor of Celebration Church in Nairobi, Kenya.
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