SAN CLEMENTE - The sun slants through the stained-glass windows at St. Clements By-the-Sea Episcopal Church, painting dappled rainbows on the 75-year-old pews filled with 300 families who have respectfully agreed to disagree.

The pastor in this quaint San Clemente sanctuary walks a careful line, too.

Like many church leaders in Orange County - where the San Onofre nuclear power plant, and its attendant terrorism risks, and Camp Pendleton loom to the south - the Rev. Diane Jardine Bruce must provide a place where supporters of President George W. Bush, military families and peace activists all feel comfortable.

"We've faced tough issues," Bruce said, "but the war issue is the toughest of my ministry here. There is a lot of emotion. Pastoring both sides, taking care of the military families, balancing it all out."

Just weeks ago, the six-county Episcopal Diocese of Los Angeles, which includes Orange County, found out - as have other denominations nationwide - how much warring there is in the pews over the war issue.

A three-paragraph resolution forged by the social-justice arm of the diocese would have sent Bush "the strongest objection" to pre-emptive military action. But it didn't fly at the annual convention in spite of the fact that the denomination often takes liberal stances.

The hot issue finally was tabled by Bishop Jon Bruno, a former policeman who knows intimately what it is like to kill in the line of duty.

After the convention, Bruno asked Bruce to organize an all-day diocesan forum to air perspectives. It is planned for Saturday at the Nixon library in Yorba Linda. Inquiries from non-Episcopalians inspired a forum for the general public set for March 25 at Chapman University.

Bruno opposes deployment of troops but finds it imperative to let his flock find its own voice.

"My call as a priest is to build a place where our church can come to an understanding of what God is calling us to do," Bruno, 56, said.

His peace stance comes in part from his own experiences as a Burbank policeman 30 years ago. He saved his partner's life by killing a kidnapper with a 12-gauge shotgun. Five years later he became a priest.

"We must go slowly. No war is a war of God."

He chose Bruce to organize the forum because of her skills at unity building. Her congregation, uniquely positioned near a military base, has wide diversity of opinion yet remains close-knit.

Minister must maintain delicate balance

Bruce's sermon Sunday was about kindness, not terrorists. Only in prayer did she refer to current events. "We pray for peace in the Middle East and for those deployed to fight terrorism."

She is the daughter of two Marines. He father saw action at Guadalcanal in World War II. Her mother was an electrician.

Bruce, 47, nearly became a nun but married an Episcopalian and had two children. She became a bank vice president. A spiritual experience finally called her to the ministry.

On the way home from church one day, she says, "I felt like an elephant was on my chest."

She pulled to the side of the road and had intense flashbacks of times she had ignored the feeling that God wanted her to minister. A loud voice in her head called: "When are you going to stop running and say yes to me?"

"Shaking, I whispered yes to God, and the elephant got off my chest."

She became a priest in 1998 and has been rector in San Clemente for about three years.

Some in her congregation are "waging peace" by participating in a nationwide Rice for Peace campaign, sending Bush small packets of rice. So far more than 10,000 pounds have been sent nationwide. The rice is accompanied by the Scripture, "If your enemy is hungry, feed him."

"I think everyone knows that, for me, every life is precious," Bruce said. "But I'm trying to stay away from the politics of war. When people enter into discussion, it's not a matter of being right or wrong. It's making sure this is a place they can come to express those feelings and be loved."

Peace activists, military and fence-straddlers alike say they appreciate her approach.

Martial-arts credo supports peace

Among them is Duke Welliver, senior lay warden at St. Clements. The 69-year-old martial-arts instructor, who served in the Marines, said last week in a talk to the congregation, "Martial arts is a violent art that breeds nonviolence. You only use it when you are attacked and there is imminent danger. And I guess that sums up what I feel about a war with Iraq."

Seeing a mushroom cloud during an atomic bomb test explosion in Nevada in 1958 helped cement his distaste for war. He and other Marines were positioned about 1 1/2 miles from the blast center. For years they've endured mandatory testing to measure health effects of radiation.

"I tell my martial-arts students that we teach you to fight so you may never have to. Am I for war? No. Would I fight if my country called me? Yes."

Navy veteran sides with president's policies

Welliver was one of the first to pick up a "Rice for Peace" packet at the church. But usher Roland Daigle did not. Daigle, an engineer and restaurateur, doesn't quarrel with church friends who protest war plans: "This country fought battles so that they have a right to do it."

But, Daigle says, "the war started on 9/11, and I trust President Bush. I don't trust Saddam Hussein." He says he wants the world safe for his son and future grandchildren.

He served in the Navy during the Vietnam War. Shipmates were killed.

"It affects you, sure," he says.

But he adds that Colin Pow ell has seen the same. "And he wants to go after terrorism."

Of his congregation, Daigle says: "No one likes war. I think everyone wants peace. We just differ on how to get it."

Deployed Marine's wife prays for a solution

Karen Hetherington finds it hard to attend Sunday services these days without her husband to help with Sarah, 3, and Matt, Will, and Tom, 18-month-old triplets.

Alex Hetherington, a Marine Cobra helicopter pilot, recently was deployed.

"It's been almost a week. It seems longer," Karen says, wiping macaroni and cheese off one toddler face after another.

Her husband spent six months in Afghanistan before this. That was tough. But she knew it was part of the bargain when she married a career Marine. But this time she worries "about chemical and biological stuff."

She tells her children that Dad is at work. Sarah looks at an Atlas every night, imagining where he is. Karen showed Sarah a magazine picture of a military dad hugging his child goodbye. Sarah insists on looking at it again and again.

Karen calls her church friends and pastor "a godsend." They visit her at home, bringing Communion and comfort. Karen, an interior designer, is helping with church redecorating. Choosing paint colors keeps her mind occupied.

She will be a panelist at both Episcopal forums. She says her opinion changes from day to day. She believes diplomacy backed by force may be the only solution. But at the moment that doesn't seem to be working. So she prays a lot.

She agrees with Bruce that much can come from prayer and such dialogue.

"The typical Episcopal way is to come at an issue from both ends," Bruce said, "and someplace in the middle we always find that the Holy Spirit takes action so we can hear each other."