Alongside

    

1 Thessalonians 5:12-15

May 25, 2025 • Mount Pleasant UMC

We’ve all known that one neighbor. You know the kind, the one who knows everybody’s business and doesn’t mind sharing it with everyone else. When I was very young, I started the first and to my knowledge only newspaper for my small town. Now, you’ve got to understand, my town had about 150 people in it and about half of them were related to me. But the people in town, relatives and non-relatives, were very gracious to this young entrepreneur so I had almost the whole town in circulation. But, you have to know, in a town of 150, there wasn’t a lot of news to be shared. It’s not like new businesses were moving in and what did happen at the grain elevator wasn’t very exciting. What news there was probably would be better categorized as “gossip,” and I knew who to get that “news” from. That one neighbor knew everything. She became my intrepid reporter, sharing who had visited who and who was sick and what the people down the street had for dinner. I’m really not kidding. You’ve had that neighbor, too, I would imagine. The one with the binoculars to keep track of all the comings and goings, the ins and outs, the one who knows all the secrets and where the bodies are buried.

For the last few weeks we have been looking at the characteristics of community, what it looks like to truly belong. We’ve talked about commitment, sharing life, vulnerability and empathy. And this morning we come to the last characteristic or practice, which is accountability. And sometimes when we hear that word “accountability,” we hear it in a negative sense. Sometimes we associate it with nosey people who just want to get in our business like the neighbor with the binoculars. And that doesn’t always go well. Early on in my ministry, I was part of a so-called accountability group in which I shared about a struggle I was having. Within a few days, a leader of the church showed up in my office, asking about what I had shared back in that group. That should never have been shared outside the group, as part of the point of the group was that it was confidential. So I get the negative impression we sometimes have of “accountability.” But that is not what it is meant to be. That’s not what it should be. The kind of accountability we are talking about should ultimately help us become more Christlike (cf. Kim, Made to Belong, pg. 137).

Accountability is a good thing that should come out of a deep caring for other people. It’s the kind of care Paul shows in many of his letters, but specifically at the end of his letter to the Thessalonians. One scholar commented that this letter seems to have several endings, like Paul can’t quite decide when he’s done with his advice and instructions to them (McKnight, Philippians and 1 & 2 Thessalonians, pg. 160). But when he finally does land this plane, he has several words of relational advice for them. This last part is sort of “Ways to Get Along in the Church” because Paul knows and acknowledges that the Christian life is, first of all, a relational life. That’s why so much of what Paul writes to the churches is about how to get along, and how we treat those inside and outside of the church. Paul’s instructions to the Thessalonians that we read this morning is a word of accountability, calling and challenging them to love each other and to hold each other to the highest standards of living as Jesus would. So how does Paul expect the Thessalonians to practice accountability to produce Christlikeness?

The first piece Paul suggests we might call “Christian leadership” (Wright, Paul for Everyone: Galatians and Thessalonians, pg. 132). In several of his letters, Paul calls for the churches to pay attention to their leaders, and to the Thessalonians he puts it this way: “Take care of those who work among you and exercise leadership over you in the Lord, those who give you instruction. Give them the highest possible rank of love because of their work” (New Testament for Everyone, pg. 396). This is rather awkward to preach about, honestly, but it does make me think of the pastors and church leaders I have had in my life who have helped me become more like Jesus. People like Amos McGinnis, who was my pastor for most of my growing up years, and Gregg Parris who was my college pastor. Mike Powers was my mentor and pastor while I was in seminary and Tom Rough was the first senior pastor I worked under. And there have been other friends and professors and church leaders who have walked alongside me, without whom I would not be who I am today. From the bottom of my heart, I give thanks to God for each and every one of them, and I pray that I may live a life worthy of the example they have placed before me. That’s what I hear when I read this passage, that there is actually a huge responsibility placed on church leaders—not just pastors, though certainly us, but really on all who agree to serve as leaders in the local church.

There is a responsibility to live the way Jesus would have us live, and to be accountable to those whom we serve. Those who serve as your church staff or your Leadership Council are not special because they serve in a particular role. If anything, there is a heavier responsibility upon them because, according to Paul here, they (we) are expected to work and lead and love you all in the name of Jesus Christ. If we don’t do that, we have no business being in leadership. I remember once in a Bible study asking if we are expected to honor all our leaders, and one lady said, “If they are worthy of honor, then yes.” I kind of reacted negatively to that, and then I thought about it. That is what Paul is saying here. He even says it more directly over in the letter to the Romans: “Give to everyone what you owe them…if honor, then honor” (13:7). Give honor to whom honor is due. One method God uses to promote Christlikeness through accountability is careful Christian teaching and leadership, leaders who hold us all accountable and who are accountable themselves, which I pray you have found and will always find in this place.

After talking about leadership, Paul switches gears and talks about the “influence of the Christian community” (Wright 132). He gives the Thessalonians a principle he has repeated over and over to Christians he has contact with: “Live in peace with each other” (5:13). Behind the word translated as “peace” in Paul’s thought would be the Hebrew word shalom, which we have talked about before. When we imagine peace, especially in the world today, we picture a lack of conflict, of a place where there is no war or arguments, a home where no one ever gets upset with anyone else. We hope for “peace and quiet,” assuming those two go hand in hand. Certainly, shalom includes all of that, but it’s actually much deeper than that. To live in shalom with someone else is to live life in harmony, in the fullness of what God intends for people. It’s to accept God’s best for your life, to know the presence of God and to rest in that presence. To me, there’s no better picture of that than Psalm 23: “The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he refreshes my soul” (23:1-3). And on through the rest of the psalm as well. To live in shalom is to know God’s presence and to experience and celebrate that presence in each other. “Live in shalom with each other,” Paul says. Can you imagine what the world would be like if that were true, if we truly, mutually lived in shalom with each other?

That’s what Paul goes on to describe in the rest of this morning’s passage. He has a few direct words for those who are “disruptive.” Some of your translations might say “idle,” but “disorderly” or “disruptive” really translates Paul’s thinking here better. He’s not talking about people who just lay around getting a suntan; he’s thinking of people he’s heard about or maybe even people he knows who are actively trying to cause trouble in the church at Thessalonica. Now, I’m glad that’s only a first-century problem and that no one tries to cause trouble in churches today. These are folks who may be active in the church; they might even be considered leaders. Maybe they were on the Leadership Council or taught a small group study. They are busy, Paul says, but they are busy doing the wrong thing. Some seem to be teaching that since Jesus was returning soon, you didn’t have to do much at all. You could, in fact, lay around and wait for Jesus to come back. No sense trying to build the church or feed the hungry or any of that. Just relax until Jesus returns. And Paul has told them in this letter and elsewhere that such teaching is out of line with the word of God. These disruptive folks are not doing what they can to grow in their faith, to become more like Jesus. Instead, they are dragging people off the path, teaching bad theology. Remember what I said last week? Bad theology can hurt people. So “warn” them, Paul says. Hold them accountable and show people the true way (Beale, 1-2 Thessalonians [IVPNTC], pgs. 164-165).

Then he proceeds to describe other ways that the Christian community can help us be accountable. Instead of being disruptive, these folks at Thessalonica could do three things in particular: “encourage the disheartened, help the weak, be patient with everyone” (5:14). “Encourage” means to draw near, to relate to, so in some respects Paul is reinforcing what we talked about last week: practicing empathy. The Christian community of all people on earth should be the best at helping those who are “disheartened,” those who have lost their way, those who are lost. That goes right along with helping the weak, the “sick,” those without strength (and that could be literally or metaphorically). There are times in all of our lives when we feel weak. Maybe it’s after a surgery or after a death in the family or after a tragedy that has come into our lives. We feel weak and sometimes we’re not even sure if we want to go on. That’s one of the most beautiful things about the Christian community. Not all of us are weak at the same time! When I’m weak, someone else is strong and can help.

In this very church, there are so many stories of those of us who are strong helping those who are struggling. Those times are wonderful to see. But we’re not perfect; we don’t always get it right. In my years as a pastor, I’ve seen the church err in two ways on this command from Paul. Sometimes we try to appear stronger than we are. We get that “stiff upper lip” and believe the lie that we have to do it all and survive it all on our own. I’ve been through repeated times of weakness in my life due to heart issues and other things, and every time God has to re-teach me that I don’t have to do it alone. You don’t have to, either. This time around, maybe I’ve learned a thing or two because when you ask me how I am, I’ve tended to say, “I’m okay.” Because I am. I’m not great, I’m not back to normal, I’m not fine, but I am okay. And I’ve had to accept help because I’m weak. That’s not always been my approach, but it’s part of God’s timing that this series on community came along at the same time when I am feeling weak. In the words of Christian singer Rich Mullins, “We are not as strong as we think we are.”

The second error we make is to distance ourselves from the community and not offer our strength to those who are weak. Let’s be honest, folks. Some of us only show up here on Sunday morning and we enjoy the worship service (or not, maybe we just put up with it) and maybe we know the names of those who sit closest to us, but the rest of the time, the rest of the week, we stay in the background. We don’t have much to do with the rest of our Christian community. Let me say it another way: we refuse to use our gifts and our strength for the betterment of the larger community. Paul says this should not be. When we are strong, we are to help the weak. When you exempt yourself from caring for others, I’ve got to ask: are you really part of the Christian community? Are you really part of the accountability Paul is talking about?

As if that isn’t enough, then there’s this last little phrase: “be patient with everyone.” Well, surely, Paul means “everyone except that driver who is going too slow in front of me.” Nope, I did an exhaustive word study on what he means here, and it turns out it’s “everyone.” “Whosoever.” “All people.” Yeah, but, what about that telemarketer who keeps calling and asking if I want to buy their internet service? Everyone. Okay, but surely he can’t mean that family member who stole money from me or damaged my reputation or hurt my kids? Everyone. But—the abuser, the politician, the boss, the pastor? Everyone. Be patient with everyone, Paul says. And when we learn to be patient with all of those folks out there, we can better be patient with those who are part of the Christian community, our brothers and sisters in the faith. And that patience extends to the sin that shows up in all of our lives. It’s so easy to judge, especially when a person engages in what might be called an “obvious” sin. But here’s the thing: “We are usually too patient with our own sins and too impatient with others’” (Kim 142). We are all works in progress. Just because you might see my sin doesn’t mean it’s more serious than someone else’s or even yours. Be patient with everyone. Patience is a part of the fruit of the Spirit (cf. Galatians 5:22, “forbearance” in NIV2011); it’s evidence that Jesus is working in your life. It’s part of the community’s calling of accountability.

Now, if I haven’t stepped on your toes yet—or, rather, if Paul hasn’t stepped on your toes yet—let’s listen again to the last thing is says in this passage: “Make sure that nobody pays back wrong for wrong, but always strive to do what is good for each other and for everyone else” (5:15). There Paul goes again with that “everyone” language! “Do what is good.” And one of those “good” things is accountability, coming alongside the other person and caring enough about them to help them move toward the truth. That’s Paul’s main concern for the church at Thessalonica: that they would know the truth. You remember what Jesus said about the truth? “You will know the truth, and the truth will set you free” (John 8:32). Accountability, pointing someone else toward the truth, isn’t about holding us in and keeping us in a box. It’s about setting us free.

I don’t know if you know or not but I have the best dog in the world. It’s true, no matter what Pastor Rick tells you. And because he’s the best dog in the world, I want to make sure he’s well taken care of, so we have a fence around our back yard. The fence keeps him contained and within that fence he is free to do whatever he wants to do. Now, he will often go to the fence and look out. He will stand at the door and wonder why he can’t run out in the road. But within the fence he is safe. We know where he is and we know he is taken care of. The fence is an act of love. The Christian community, guided by the Scriptures and the Holy Spirit, provides our fence. It’s the place where we are loved, where we are taken care of, where we are valued (cf. Kim 137). Within the bounds of this community, we have freedom to serve Jesus even as we are held accountable to his commands and his teaching. We might wonder what would happen if we went beyond the bounds, but God has set these things in place and asked us to hold each other accountable so that we are safe, so that we’re not run over on the broad road of sin (cf. Matthew 7:13). That’s why accountability is so important to Christian community.

However, and there’s always a however and a caution with all of these characteristics of community—however, accountability is something we must willingly accept. “Forced accountability is what we call abuse” (Kim 139). Occasionally there are these videos of pastors or other church leaders publicly calling out someone in the church—maybe they fell asleep in worship or maybe they sinned in some way this past week. I recently saw a video of a congregation where a young woman was made to stand up front and confess her sins to everyone in the church. That’s not true accountability; that’s abuse, or as author David Kim sees it, that’s “accountability without empathy and compassion” (154). And it’s cruel. That’s not what I am talking about, and it’s not what Paul is talking about. David Kim goes on: “Pushiness is not accountability. And accountability is not ‘sin management.’ … It’s helping [someone] recognize God’s movements and promptings in their lives. Sometimes, they won’t need the help so much as to know you care” (Kim 154).

There’s a beautiful story in the Gospel of John about a man who had been laying by a pool for a long time; he had been an invalid for 38 years, we are told. This pool, called Bethesda (which means “house of mercy”), was rumored to have healing properties; it was believed that occasionally an angel stirred the waters and the first one in the pool after the waters bubbled would be healed. We know now that the bubbling came from the underwater plumbing, but if healing did take place there it came from God. So this man is laying there and Jesus comes by. When Jesus finds out he has been laying there for a long time, he asks the man a question: “Do you want to get well?” I don’t know about you, but if I were that man, I could easily answer that question: “Yes, I do.” But not this man. Michael Card (John: The Gospel of Wisdom, pg. 76) calls him “the man of excuses” because rather than answer the question, he gives what sounds like a whiny list of reasons why he hasn’t been healed. The truth is he has given up. Jesus, on this day, doesn’t let that stop him. He heals the man, but what I want us to see is his question: “Do you want to get well?” (John 5:1-7). To me, that’s the question we all should be asking each other—not in a forceful or angry or pushy way. When we come alongside others, as we share community together, as we live this faith together, let’s be asking Jesus’ question: “Do you want to get well?” Do you?

The Christian life is a life called to community. “How we treat others expresses our relationship with God” (McKnight 162). Commitment, sharing, vulnerability, empathy and accountability—five characteristics that will make for a strong community in the midst of a disconnected world. We need each other. We need connection. We need people who come alongside of us and ask, “Do you want to get well?” Can we be that kind of community to each other? Can we deepen our connection and push back against the disconnectedness of our world? Let me ask you again: do you want to get well? Do you? Let’s pray.