Truth and Reconciliation

Texts: Acts 3:12-19; 1 John 3:1-7; Luke 24:36b-48

I talked last week about what Rowan Williams has called "the pattern of resurrection appearances", in which, as he points out, the Risen Christ appears to the guilty.  He appears to his own hand-picked disciples who were guilty of abandoning him when the crunch came.  He appeared to Saul of Tarsus on the road to Damascus, who was guilty of persecuting Christ's followers (and therefore Christ himself).  And when Peter and the other disciples begin their public preaching, they start by reminding their audience that they, too, are responsible for having Jesus put to death.

But what we might expect to follow never does.  We expect condemnation: we expect the one who was murdered to demand, at the very least, an apology, if not retribution.  But we find no hint of such an attitude in the resurrection stories.  The guilty are confronted with their guilt, but then they are encouraged to move on.  The disciples are commissioned for ministry.  Saul is sent to a particular house where he will be told what to do.  Peter tells his audience to repent and be baptised.  At the heart of these stories – at the heart of Easter – is not revenge, punishment, getting even, or anything of that kind.  At the heart of Easter is truth and reconciliation.

And this last week has been a good time to ponder that phrase as I continued to reflect on these resurrection stories in the light of three particular things.  First, Trish and I joined with a huge gathering in St John's, Roslyn for the funeral of our friend, Richard Sutton.  Richard was a highly distinguished lawyer, retiring as Dean of the Faculty of Law here in Dunedin.  Like all lawyers, Richard loved to argue; but unlike many lawyers he did so without raising his voice or wagging his finger, and without anything less than complete respect for those on the other side of the argument.  Richard was also a fine chess player, having won the New Zealand championship no less than three times and gaining the status of international master.  He was competitive and enjoyed winning.  Yet if his defeated opponent ever asked for advice Richard would immediately give it.  In the tribute from the chess community it was noted that Richard was equally gracious whether he won or not.

He was, said, a close friend, "irenic".  That's an unusual word today; and I don't think I have ever before heard it used in a eulogy.  But it exactly fits Richard – he was a man of peace.  He sought always the truth of any matter he was involved in, but he always finished an argument reconciled with his opponents.

It was fitting that Richard's funeral was on St George's Day, as he was English by birth; but to me it was even more fitting that his funeral coincided with the South African General Elections.  Of course, there is still a lot wrong with that country.  There is an HIV epidemic, aggravated by the previous president's blind refusal to acknowledge it.  There is rampant crime, a huge gap between rich and poor, and corruption in the highest places in the land.

But South Africa is also the country that gave the world the wonderful example of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, whose guiding spirit, of course, was that marvellous servant of the Church, Archbishop Tutu.  That whole exercise was about uncovering the dark deeds of the Apartheid Years, bringing them into the light, confronting the guilty with their guilt, and then promoting reconciliation between the offenders and their victims.  We have all marvelled at the grace and forgiveness shown by Nelson Mandela; but equally impressive is the way in which his example has flowed out into the country through the work of that Commission.  No one has been punished by the Commission; they have been confronted with their guilt, and then invited to be part of the new community.  That's exactly the resurrection pattern Rowan Williams talks about.  It is Easter in action.

And all this has prompted me to ponder the third event this week, our own Anzac Day commemoration.  What's that about?  How does that fit with the Easter story?  We talk about Anzac Day "services", but are they religious services, or are they something else?  And are they about truth and reconciliation or not?  Over the years I have been asked to speak at some Anzac services, to lead the prayers or to give a blessing at others; and I have never been quite sure what is and what is not okay to say on such occasions.  Are they Christian services or not?  Are they occasions for telling the truth – for acknowledging before God our own guilt in waging war – for facing our guilt and being reconciled with our enemies or not?

I still don't know.  But one year in Kawhia I took a big risk.  I said it was time to strip our Anzac commemorations of the religious language we have wrapped around it.  I said I thought it was quite wrong to say of our fallen that they had laid down their lives for their country.  They did no such thing.  In the vast majority of cases they had their lives taken from them by the cruelties of war.  They did not want to die, for their country or otherwise.  They hoped to return home alive.  Most of them who died had the misfortune to be in the wrong place at the wrong time; they were aboard a ship that was sunk, an aircraft that was shot down, or in the line of fire when a bullet came their way.  When we use our religious language, when we talk of such men and women laying down their lives, we are denying them the truth of their deaths.  They were murdered by their enemies, just as Jesus was murdered by his, even though he did choose to die rather than escape or fight back.

And the same is true of those on the other side.  The Allies murdered their enemies.  Our people bombed men, women and children in Dresden and Tokyo, and of course in Hiroshima and Nagasaki, just as surely as our enemies bombed London and Coventry, Plymouth and Sheffield.  But after the war, only one side was held to account; the winners put the losers on trial.  No one can deny the guilt of those who were convicted at Nuremberg or Tokyo; but no one can assert the innocence of those who bombed the great cities of Germany and Japan.   Are we yet ready to acknowledge our guilt on Anzac Day or any other?

Jesus put no one on trial.  He came back to the guilty, showed them the damage that had been done to his hands and feet, the scars of the war they had waged against him, and said, "Peace be with you".  He is the true irenic man whose example our friend Richard followed so faithfully.  He is the author of all truth and reconciliation, whose example the great leaders of South Africa, Nelson Mandela and Archbishop Tutu, followed so faithfully.   He is our Lord and our God who says to his followers, "Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you that you may be children of your Father in heaven", which, of course, is precisely what St John said we are in our second lesson.

When we exchange the Peace, all this is what should be in our hearts and our minds as we do so; for the Risen Christ is among us as surely as he was among those guilty apostles that first Easter night.  He is not interested in whether or not our hands are cold.  He wants to know only that our hearts are warm, towards him and to one another.

He seeks truth and reconciliation here in our midst today and every day.  Amen.