Texts: Psalm 68; John 15: 12-17

Most of us have been raised with the idea that to forgive and reconcile is the Christian thing to do, but as we all know it is far more difficult than it sounds – especially when the person who has “wronged” us is close to us. Take, for instance, the case of Carey Dyess, who, no youthful hothead, at the age of 73, opened fire on his ex-wife, her attorney and four other people, killing them all before turning the gun on himself. This didn't happen in some urban den of iniquity but in Wellton, a small farming community of about 1800 persons that features an annual tractor rodeo, a fourth of July town picnic, and a baseball team. This is not a one kind of event; an ex-husband turned a gun on his ex-wife's lawyer in Oklahoma City back in March of this year, and last year more than a dozen lawyers and their clients were killed by angry ex-spouses. Hate seems to be the other side of love.

Forgiving those whom we once loved seems to be very difficult. The same is true with people who have known each other not as intimately as in marriage but as neighbors. There's a reason the old adage about good fences making good neighbors sticks. It really is difficult to love our neighbors as we are supposed to; as Pogo used to say, “I love humanity. It's people I hate.” Our feelings of anger and rejection created in intimate relationships, whether they are friendships or marriages, create an atmosphere of unwillingness to reconcile. We create rituals to reinforce the idea of reconciliation; in fact, as part of our communion service later, we will pass the peace with each other as a symbol of our reconciliation with our friends in Christ, a symbol of forgiveness for any wrong we may have felt from anyone here in this congregation.

But symbols, important as they are, cannot cover the slight we may feel, which may have been festering in us for a day, a week, or a month. The question becomes how we move beyond the symbolic reconciliation that we make with each other this morning into a true Christian love, the agape love spoken of by John's Jesus in this morning's reading. The question becomes how we recognize our own deep hurts and express them in a way that enables us to be reconciled with each other.

The experience of countries that have established what are called Truth Commissions gives us a clue. Unfortunately, after our own two major fratricidal wars, people hadn't thought of this solution. In the first, the American Revolution, the losing side – the Tories – left and went to Canada where people who considered themselves to be Englishmen still lived. In the second, the Civil War, because there was no real reconciliation as Lincoln wanted, but that hated program called Reconstruction, the old anger and resentment from the South still lingers. There was honestly a point where if I thought I heard just one more story about those “damn Yankees” quartering their horses in our southern churches, I thought I would scream. Reconstruction was no reconciliation to be sure, but it was never intended to be. The hatred ran deep on both sides.

Every once in a while, I honestly do ask myself: what on earth was this man thinking? No greater love hath any one than this than to lay down one's life for one'e friend? Well, that does limit the circle to be sure. It allows us to agree with the Psalmist: Lete God arise; let God's enemies be scattered! And just , how do we define God's enemies? Those who don't agree with us? Can we be so presumptive? I think not.

When I was in El Salvador in 1993, I attended a local version of a “truth commission” meeting. Chalatenango, for the most part, supported the FMLN – Farobundo Marti Liberation Front – the name given to the union of the five separate groups who had been opposing government repression of any and all activists for social change. So, here I am sitting at this local meeting and looking at people who had family members murdered by both sides, the government forces called ARENA and the FMLN. In this meeting, combatants from both sides got up and detailed their involvement in any action that went beyond mere self-defense and then asked forgiveness of the remaining family members or of the community if there were no family members left.

One of the combatants who had been with the government army – that's the side we sent money and support as they murdered Jesuits and nuns, labor union organizers and Monseñor Romero --- got up and talked of how he had participated in a “cleansing,” that resulted in the rape of a child and the dismemberment of her parents. He stated that he had committed war crimes, that he was guilty and would have to live with his guilty conscience for the rest of his life, and that he wanted in some small way to make amends for his crime. The village gave him an orphan to raise as his own son. In the celebration of the Eucharist that followed, the passing of the peace took on a meaning far deeper than any words could express. All of us were expected to welcome this man into the community and we did precisely that.

We live in a world where we do not want to really face the difficult questions of loving, forgiving, and reconciling. It is far easier to hate, to categorize people by their dress or accent, to respond in fear. It is far easier to follow in lockstep than to break with old images and solutions. But that is not we are called to do. We are called to live as John's Jesus would want but we live more in keeping with the Psalm read earlier: God will shatter the heads of the enemies of the Lord...

This morning as we pass the peace, let us not just go through the ritual but consider the deep meaning of the words we speak. Let us pray that in our hearts we are able to love each other, forgive each other, and live in true peace with each other. Amen.