"But I say to you who hear, love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you." Jesus, in Luke 6:27-28

     Sometimes, an act of grace passing between two people sweeps a multitude into its' wake; this was such an act. Coming as it did on the final day of the American Civil War, it remains one of the brightest moments in American history:

     It was over!

 

     What some had thought could never happen, and others were certain wouldn't last long, had dragged an entire nation into its abyss, tearing even families apart with its' vicious and unholy grip. But at last it was finished! The War of the Rebellion was over!

 

     Emotions ran deep on both sides, a dangerous mix at any point in history, but most certainly a deadly mix after the heat of a long and difficult struggle. Two armies now had to meet one last time as a vanquished and humiliated troop surrendered itself to the will of a delirious army tempted, as we humans often are, to gloat and taunt. These are the moments when the future is really decided; when two foes sort out how to behave when the battle is finished.

 

     Joshua Chamberlain positioned his Union soldiers on both sides of the road that morning with the same feelings of relief that likely swept through most corners of the still-young nation. Selected by Ulysses S. Grant to oversee the surrender of the Confederate Army at Appomattox Courthouse on April 12, 1865, the professor-turned-soldier watched as the entire Army of Northern Virginia marched in battle array toward his troops.

     Leading that defeated army up the dusty road was John Gordon, picked by Robert E. Lee for this difficult and humiliating exercise. Eyewitnesses described Gordon's face as downcast, eyes searching out some distant place on the ground in a symbolic gesture of resignation and grief.

     Victory often breeds defeat when winners gloat. Defeat often breeds disaster when losers are defiant. On the heels of the most vicious bloodletting in American history, there was little reason to believe in those "better angels of our nature" Abraham Lincoln called out in his first inaugural address.

     Then something strange took place.

 

     Gordon heard clanks and rustles among the Union troops, and knew in an instant what was happening: Chamberlain ordered his troops to salute the defeated enemy as they passed! No gloating here, no loud taunts or vicious reprisals: Only silence and the moving picture of soldier saluting soldier, each side describing scenes of grown men with "cheeks wet with tears."

     It was left to the vanquished to match this kindness, and Gordon did not miss the moment. History notes that "at this clatter of arms he (Gordon) raises his eyes and instantly catching the significance, wheels his horse with that superb grace of which he is master, and drops the point of his sword to his stirrup...," returning in defeat the graceful salute offered in victory.

     May the better angels of our nature rise again, and may the wisdom that swept over Chamberlain and Gordon so long ago visit us once more. And may those who call Christ the commander of their souls carry themselves with humility, compassion and gentleness in the days ahead, regardless of whom they followed on this first Tuesday in November.