Gerald Fitzgerald was besieging his fellow countrymen.  Actually chased them into a church!  They barred the door against him.  He tried to get in but at some point he realized this other family lived in the same country, worshiped the same God in the same church and that trying to kill each other was stupid so he did the only logical thing.  He carved a hole in the door, swore he meant no villany and stuck his arm through the door.  That is so metal.  So how did it turn out?  And can we dare to be that metal to repair a relationship?  Let’s explore it in this week’s sermon “Opening the Door of Reconciliation“

Three weeks ago I sort of surprised everyone in person at Living Faith when I said, “The peace of the Lord be with you always.” and everyone responded back, “And also with you!”  Then for the first time in almost three years we all shared the peace with one another.  Before I got out to the congregation, I got to see new ways of greeting.  There was elbow touching and huge smiles.  Welcome back, greeting one another!  Welcome back, just a little bit of physical fellowship!  Woohoo!  Then this week.  (Oh no, I don’t have a good feeling about this.  The pastor’s going to ruin everything, I know it.)  Maybe, that depends on your perspective.  No, I’m not going to say that maybe we shouldn’t be doing it, what I am going to say is that maybe we should stop and think about a tradition we’ve shared for a very long time and see that there is actually a lot more to it than maybe we’ve recognized.  

Passing the peace is a practice that has been recorded in the Didache, an early Christian writing nearly as old as many of the New Testament writings.  I don’t think I’ve ever shared the peace with any kind of fear or trepidation or reluctance or hesitation.  It’s a great, warm moment of welcome and fellowship.  But here’s the problem.  The Gospel for today.  There’s some problematic stuff here.  First of all Jesus begins by making the commandments unkeepable.  Not in a bad way, but in a far more difficult, demanding and if we admit it more meaningful way.  Don’t even hold hatred or anger in your heart.  Don’t seek to use or harm people.  Don’t wish it, don’t even think about it because when you do you are breaking relationships and when you break relationships with God’s children, you are breaking your relationship with God.  

We like to stratify sin or wrongdoing.  That was just a small sin, it wasn’t like I killed someone.  Jesus says, “Oh really”.  I think his point is “broken is broken”.  Imagine one very simple break in a glass.  One break, two pieces.  Pour water in it and you find there is no actual it and that there’s water all over the floor.  Take a glass and “really break” it.  Thousands of pieces, but the result is the same, it doesn’t hold water, the purpose for which it was created.  The animosity or selfishness that we carry in our heart of hearts  or our innermost thoughts keeps us from full relationships.  Jesus points out the solution, reconciliation.  So why do we share the peace in our worship in the first place?  It has to do with today’s scripture.  What’s it say?  So when you are offering your gift at the altar, if you remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother or sister, and then come and offer your gift. You’ll notice that in the standard order of worship it follows this pattern.  The peace is shared right before the offering.  We don’t do it because it gives ushers a chance to set up or something.  We do it then because it offers the opportunity for reconciliation before the offering.  It’s the opportunity as Elsa from Frozen would say to let it go.  Before we offer to God, we set things right between us.  

Now everyone’s going to be paranoid that the folks that share the peace with them were secretly mad at them.  Let’s not do that, but let’s take time before I say it to reflect on our relationships and commit to reconciliation.  That’s why we share the peace and why it is where it is.  The bad news is that, in general, we, meaning liturgical churches, aren’t doing the peace right.This gets to the spirit of what Jesus is saying.  It’s putting into practice Jesus’ message.   I said, “ I don’t think I’ve ever shared the peace with any kind of fear or trepidation or reluctance or hesitation.”    That sounds like someone who’s never had a quarrel or a malicious thought or has always gone to church with their act together and all good with everyone.  That’s not me.  It’s more like I’ve never realized what was what here.  But here is the Good News encapsulated in this shortcoming and what Jesus is saying about the commandments.  All the messing up, all the fouled up, dysfunctional relationships, the inescapable fact that none of us are perfect and that we have all fallen short of the glory of God is that there is grace for that.  As it says, while we were still sinners, Jesus dared to die for us. Our relationship has been made right with God by God’s grace through our faith.  

The call to action though is to do peacemaking and reconciliation within our human relationships, friends and enemies.  It’s a tough thing.  It involves risk and first steps.  It involves courage and humility.  No fear or trepidation?  Not so much.  

There’s a cool story about the courage it takes to act toward reconciliation.  In her book Family Ministry, Diana Garland relates the following account by R.L. Honeycutt on the origin of the Irish expression “Chancing one’s arm”:  On display in St. Patrick’s cathedral in Dublin hangs an ancient door with a rough hewn, rectangular opening hacked in the center. The story of this “door of reconciliation” and the related Irish expression of “chancing one’s arm” are remarkable and instructive.  In 1492, two prominent Irish families, the Ormond’s and Kildare’s, were in the midst of a bitter feud. Besieged by Gerald Fitzgerald, Earl of Kildare, Sir James Butler, Earl of Ormond, and his followers took refuge in the chapter house of St. Patrick’s cathedral, bolting themselves in.  As the siege wore on, the Earl of Kildare concluded the feuding was foolish. Here were two families worshiping the same God, in the same church, living in the same country, trying to kill each other. So he called out to Sir James and, as an inscription in St. Patrick’s says today, “undertoake on his honour that he should receive no villanie.”  Afraid of “some further treachery,” Ormond did not respond. So Kildare seized his spear, cut a hole in the door, and thrust his hand through. It was grasped by another hand inside the church. The door was opened and the two men embraced, thus ending the family feud. From Kildare’s noble gesture came the expression “chancing one’s arm.”  

If we think about that’s more how reconciliation looks and feels.  I can also imagine and feel the weight that was lifted on the embrace for them and all concerned.  We need reconciliation.  Like glasses were made to hold liquid we are created to be in relationship with God and one another.   

Ernest Hemingway wrote a short story called The Capital of the World. In it there is a teenage boy named Paco, which was a very popular name at the time in Spain.  Paco wanted to become a matador and get away from his father so he ran away to the big city of Madrid.  His father went to Madrid to search for him.  He wanted their relationship, he wanted things to be made right, he wanted to reconcile so he ran an ad in the newspaper that said, “Dear Paco, meet me in front of the Madrid newspaper office tomorrow at noon. All is forgiven. I love you.”  Hemingway then wrote, “the next day at noon in front of the newspaper office there were 800 “Pacos” all seeking forgiveness.”  The joy that I saw at the passing of the peace is no fluke.  We deep down, genuinely desire connections and relationships in an extremely fundamental way.  

Our culture has grown more and more fiercely independent but I think that need for connection is what has got us so twisted up and contentious.  Our personal pride and fear stand between us and doing what it takes, at chancing the arm.  It says in Philippians “ Do nothing from selfish ambition or empty conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourselves. Let each of you look not to your own interests but to the interests of others. Let the same mind be in you that was[a] in Christ Jesus, who, though he existed in the form of God, did not regard equality with God  as something to be grasped, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, assuming human likeness.  And being found in appearance as a human, he humbled himself  and became obedient to the point of death— even death on a cross.  Jesus essentially stuck his arm through and we nailed it to the cross, which is the really tough example to which we are called, but when we foul it up? there’s grace for that.  It goes to show that what St Paul wrote is true, nothing can separate us from the love of God.  We are told that we were worth that risk and despite all of that we are forgiven.  That thing that would really bring the fear and trepidation to confront.  Our actions or inaction, animosity or selfishness our squaring up to fight or our running away?  The ad in the gospel reads, Dear Child, meet me in bread and wine today after the sharing of the Peace for communion and reconciliation. All is forgiven. I love you.  Amen