Non-violence as a journey

I worry sometimes about calling myself a pacifist. It feels cheap. As a white, middle-class woman from a non-military family, it is statistically highly unlikely that I would have ever considered joining the military, regardless of my personal convictions. And I sometimes imagine the voice of some combat veteran saying, “Yeah, I put my life on the line to protect the rights of you and all the other candy-ass liberals who prance around with peace signs. You know this whole little pacifist thing you’ve got going only works because you’re safe, right? You risk nothing because I do the dirty work and your country has big power and big weapons that give you the freedom to talk about your “convictions.” When’s the last time someone shot at you, honey? How much credit do you think you deserve for not shooting back?”

The veteran in my head had an uncomfortable point. My only answer is that I experience a fair amount of cognitive dissonance. I’m aware that a pacifist government is untenable in the world we live in – unless you are Switzerland and keep all the warmongers’ money. I can ask “What would Jesus do?”, but it’s really highly unlikely that Jesus would be President were He to bodily reappear in the U.S., so what Jesus would do as a head of state is in the realm of pure speculation.

I console myself with the fact that most of my faith is paradox and mystery, so why should I worry about one more thing I can’t entirely figure out. I don’t really have airtight systems of theology or politics. I used to have more answers than I do now, but for now it comes down to something I heard Richard Rohr say: “How you do anything is how you do everything.”

I don’t encounter much in the way of others being physically violent to me personally, so that’s not at the core of how I view peace-making. It’s about a way of being in the world and being with people and recognizing my anger. I probably contribute very little to lowering the number of corpses littering the planet, but I might be able to lower the emotional and spiritual body count – at least slightly.

I think violence is a broader concept than just war – although war is a terribly destructive force that causes millions to suffer. I think we can do emotional and spiritual violence to others, and we can do it in the name of justice – or at least I can. Guilt, fear, manipulation, and using my power to force others to conform to my agenda all go against the values of peacemaking, even if it doesn’t leave bruises.

The longer I walk down this road, the more I see how easy it is to do violence to another person’s soul. I know how easy it is to tap into the anger I carry and how easy it would be to live in that. I know, because I’ve done it. It’s learning how to make peace with all the parts of me and being aware of how I could use some sort of verbal violence to get my way, and choosing another way.

I need to start writing earlier at night, because I’m really tired now and don’t know how to dig out the thoughts inside my head, but maybe what I’m trying to say is that, for me, a commitment to non-violence has moved from being a political position to a spiritual discipline and a journey whose destination is still a long long way away. I keep unpacking the ramifications of being non-violent and discovering new layers of that.

Maybe I’ll write more on this later, but it’s time for bed…

Comments

[kim]

I once applied for a job with the American Friends Service Committee and had to answer some written questions about pacifism. I came to realize that, although I am wary of war 99% of the time, I can't completely call myself a pacifist. Yet what I began to understand (as I unsuccessfully tried to convince a bunch of pacifists to hire me) is that regardless of how politically untenable pacifism is, it's absolutely essential as a dissident voice in a violent culture. War is an ugly and unavoidable reality in our world, but far too many people glamorize it or take it too lightly. Pacifists can help to put on the brakes or be a voice of reason when the warmongering threatens to grow out of control, even if their larger goals of ending violence won't be achieved.

[Philip]

Let me go on record and say, as a 13 year veteran (and still going), I have nothing against pacifism. And you've earned the right to call yourself a pacifist based on what you have done in life after your middle-class upbringing. You've put yourself on the line in what many would consider dangerous situations. BTW, many of the veterans who would question you probably have never seen anything that looks like combat.

War sucks. No one ever wins a fight. It's just a matter of who loses less. You learn that on the playground while in grade school after your first fist fight.

I agree with what you said about emotional and spiritual pain. I consider some of the emotional pain I suffered from my first marriage a lot higher on the pain scale than any punch in the nose I received. Besides, physical wounds heal and chicks dig scars.

[Christy]

Kim -

Ah, the AFSC - If you aren't a hard-core pacifist, you have NO prayer of getting in there. And I think you are right about a voice of dissent.

Phil -

"Physical wounds heal and chicks dig scars." That is funny - And I think it's true, particularly if you have a good story to go along with it.

[jon]

"it’s really highly unlikely that Jesus would be President were He to bodily reappear in the U.S., so what Jesus would do as a head of state is in the realm of pure speculation"

Good point to throw in, and makes me again wonder whether you could be a politician with real decision-making power and still be fully committed to Christ without violating your oath to the office.

[Christy]

Jon -

Interesting question. I don't think a pacifist could get elected to a high office, and there is certainly a lot of compromise involved in the campaign process. Some politicians manage to keep their center and do a lot of good. Others seem to completely buy into the system. I wonder how the first group does it?

[Jon]

Yah - I'm sure there'd be way too many problems in the campaign process for it to work out. But my question is more if a miracle happened, and they did get elected somehow, would they even be able to fulfill the duties of the office? Could a fully-committed Christian still complete their obligations to the state? Could they perpetuate everything that needed to stay in motion, even the parts of the system that oppress others? Would they get thrown out within weeks?

[Philip]

Are you trying to say that, unless you are a pacifist, you are not truly committed to Christ?

[Christy]

I think it is important to distinguish between a pacifist and a committed Christian. There are pacifists who aren't Christians, and Christians who aren't pacifists, and some people who are both. I don't think a true pacifist could get elected in this country, and I'm not sure you could be a pacifist and be President and Commander in Chief.

But it would be ridiculous for me to say that if you're not a pacifist, you're not a committed Christian because I know too many Christians and good people of the non-pacifist variety.

I don't like litmus tests that determine who is in the "good Christian" group, so I'm uncomfortable with making pacifism the secret handshake into the "good Christian" club. All I can say is that it's my my path.

[trissa]

Christy,

I really appreciated what you said here. You talked about a couple things that I have been struggling with lately and it's interesting the watch somebody else work the same issus out.

The thing that struck me the most was your statement about not having air tight systems of theology and politics. I think the reality is that when one does have a solid theological or politcal system and they believe it in at all costs, they put themselves in a position to stop personal growth and abuse other people.