A Story about Truth, Mercy, Justice & Peace

Some years ago I came across a wonderful book by John Paul Lederach called ‘Reconcile’. This man has worked in some of the most conflict laden communities in the world and has remarkable wisdom and experience in helping communities reconcile after long term violence. Whenever I come across conflict, whether in my own family, in a church or any other relationship setting, I return to this story to teach me more of what I need to know about reconciliation.

I pray that the story will bless you as it has blessed me.

The Story

I brought Truth, Mercy, Justice and Peace into a room and sat them down in front of a belligerent crowd with many parties in conflict with one another. I addressed the four. “We want to know what concerns you each have in the midst of conflict. May we hear your views?"

Truth stood and spoke first, “I am Truth” she said. “I am like light that is cast so all may see. In times of conflict I want to bring forward what really happened, putting it out in the open. Not the watered-down version. Not the partial recounting. My handmaidens are transparency, honesty and clarity. I am set apart from my three colleagues here,” Truth gestured towards Mercy, Justice and Peace, “because they need me first and foremost. Without me they cannot go forward. When I am found I set people free.”

“Sister Truth,” I interjected hesitantly, not wanting to question her integrity, “you know I have been around quite a lot of conflict. There's one thing I'm always curious about. When I talk to one side, like these people over here, they say you are with them. When I talk to others, like our friends over there, they claim you are on their side. Yet in the middle of all this pain you seem to come and go. Is there only one Truth?”

“There is only one Truth, but I can be experienced in many different ways. I reside within each person, yet nobody owns me.”

“If discovering you is so crucial,” I asked sister Truth, “why are you so hard to find?”

She thought for a while before replying. “I can only appear where the search is genuine and authentic. I come forward only when each person shares with others what they know of me and when each one respects the others’ voices. Where I am strutted before others like a hand puppet on a child’s stage, I am abused and shattered and I disappear.”

“Of these three friends,” I pointed to the three colleagues seated around her, “whom do you fear the most?”

Without hesitation she pointed to Mercy. “I fear him,” she said quietly. “In his haste to heal he covers my light and clouds my clarity. He forgets that Forgiveness is our child, not his alone.”

Next I turned to Mercy. “I am sure you have things to say. What concerns you?”

Mercy rose slowly and said, “I am Mercy.” He seemed to begin with a plea, as though he knew that he among them all was under tight scrutiny. I am the new beginning. I am concerned with people and their relationships. Acceptance, compassion and support stand with me. I know the frailty of the human condition. Who among them is perfect?”

He turned to Truth and continued with his eyes on her. “She knows that her light can bring clarity but too often it blinds and burns. What freedom is there without life and relationship? Forgiveness is indeed our child but not when people are arrogantly clubbed into humiliation and agony with their imperfections and weaknesses. Our child Forgiveness was birthed to provide healing.”

I could not resist posing an urgent question, “But brother Mercy, in your rush to accept, support and move ahead do you not abort the child?”

He reacted quickly: “I do not cover Truth’s light. You must understand. I am Mercy. I am built of steadfast love that supports life itself. It is my purpose in life to bring forward the eternal grace of new beginnings.”

“And whom do you fear most?” I asked.

Mercy turned, faced Justice and spoke clearly: “My brother Justice, in his haste to change and make things right forgets that his roots lie in real people and relationships.”

“So, brother Justice,” I said, “what do you have to say?”

“I am Justice,” he responded as he rose to his feet. His strong voice was accompanied by a deep smile. “Mercy is correct. I am concerned about making things right. I consider myself a person who looks beneath the surface and behind the issues about which people seem to fight. The roots of most conflicts are tangled in inequality, greed and wrongdoing.”

“I stand with Truth who shared her light to expose the paths of wrongdoing. My task is to make sure that something is done to repair the damage wreaked, especially on the victims and the downtrodden. We must restore the relationship, but never while failing to acknowledge and rectify what broke the relationship in the first place.”

A question chewed at my mind, I had to ask it: “But brother Justice, everybody in this room feels they have been wronged. Most are willing to justify their actions, even violent deeds, as doing your bidding. Is this not true?”

“It is indeed,” Justice responded. “Most do not understand.” He paused and thought for a minute.

“You see, I am most concerned about accountability. Often, we think that anything and everything is acceptable. True and committed relationships have honest accounting and steadfast love. Love without accountability is nothing but words. Love with accountability is changed behaviour and action. This is the real meaning of restoration. My purpose is to bring action and accountability to the words.”

“Then who do you fear?” I inquired.

“My children,” he chuckled, remembering years of experience. “I fear that my children Mercy and Peace see themselves as parents.” His voice carried a hint of gentle provocation. “Yet they're actually the fruit of my labour.”

Peace burst into a glowing smile. Before I could speak, she stepped forward. “I am Peace, and I agree with all three,” she began. “I am the child to whom they give birth, the mother who labours to give them life, and the spouse who accompanies them on the way. I hold the community together with the encouragement of security, respect, and wellbeing." 

Truth and Justice began to protest. “That is precisely the problem,” said Truth in a frustrated voice. “You see yourself as greater and bigger than the rest of us.”

“Arrogance!” Justice pointed his finger towards Peace. “You do not place yourself where you belong. You follow us. You do not precede us.”

“That is true, brother Justice and sister Truth,” Peace responded. “I am more fully expressed through and after you both. But it is also true that without me there is no space cleared for Truth to be heard.”

Peace turned toward Justice. “And without me there is no way to break out of the vicious cycle of accusation, bitterness and bloodshed. You yourself Justice cannot be fully embodied without my presence. I am before and after. There is no other way to reach me. I myself and the way.”

Silence fell for a moment.

“And whom do you fear?” I asked.

“Not whom, but what and when,” Peace replied. I fear manipulation. I fear the manipulation of people using sister Truth for their own purposes. Some ignore her, some use her as a whip, some claim to own her. I fear the times when brother Justice is sacrificed for the sake of brother Mercy. I fear the blind manipulation when some will sacrifice life itself in trying to reach the ideal of brother Justice. When such trickery takes place, I am violated and left as an empty shell.”

I focused my attention on all four. “How would it be possible for you four to meet? What would you need from each other?”

Truth looked first at Mercy. “You must slow down brother Mercy. Give me a chance to emerge. Our child cannot be born without the slow development in the womb of the mother.”

Mercy nodded. “Shine bright dear sister Truth. But please take care not to blind and burn. Remember that each person is a child of God. Each is weak and needs support to grow.”

Justice was eager to speak. “I had been partly reassured by the words of sister Peace. I need a clear statement that she gives a place for accountability and action. Remember when Micah spoke of us: ‘Love mercy and do justice.’ You, sister Peace, must allow room for me to come forward. If not, you will be aborted.”

Peace responded on the heels of his last words. “Brother Justice, our lips will meet if we recognise that we need one another. Do not let your heart of compassion fall into bitterness that rages without purpose. I will provide the soil for you to work and bear fruit.”

The four were huddled in a small circle. “And what,” I asked, “is this place called where you stand together?”

“This place,” they responded in unison, “is reconciliation.”