On Nonviolence & a Warrior's Heart

Big, hot tears glistened in round, baby-brown eyes and rolled down over sweet chubby cheeks as his lower lip trembled. My precious little 6-year-old brother was crying. And 8-year-old me, in a frilly Sunday dress, felt a white-hot rage engulf me in an instant. That moment was all it took. I let a punch fly, connecting squarely with the jaw of the bully who just dared to call my brother "fat". It sent him straight to the deck, or rather, the blacktop outside of the front door of our church. This was particularly unfortunate, as the service had just let out, and so my little act of very non-Mennonite aggression had been witnessed by more than a few. 

Who wouldn't want to protect this adorable kid?!

Fast-forward a week - I had to write a letter of apology to the boy's mother for striking her son, even though she said that he deserved what he got. Fast-forward to high school - the "bully" is actually a pretty cool guy, and he and my brother and I are all actually friends, and I have never felt the need to punch him in the face again. Skip ahead to grad school - I have had the urge to punch quite a few people in the face since my single flirtation with violence, but gratefully report that no one has been harmed in the making of this memoir. Only once did I take a swing at someone, (unsuccessfully, thanks to the quick interventions of a few good friends,) and in that case, I was being sexually harassed at a bar, so at the time I figured it was justified. Why do I share these slightly ridiculous stories, do you ask? Well, I have actually been struggling with the whole notion of the practice of pacifism in our violent world today, so this is more like "thinking out loud". 

For clarification, while the Mennonite tradition, (with which I do most closely align theologically, and to which I credit my spiritual development as well as family background,) does include a strict pacifist standard, my home church had never "enforced" this mantra. Rather, we were the church in the district that had families representing military service, and so were allowed by the Bishop to simply say nothing at all, rather than condemn a non-pacifist lifestyle. Yeah, I'm very grateful for my "fringe" church, it was a great family to grow with. As a whole, they grasped the best tenets of the Anabaptist faith and ran with them in a way that Jesus would in the 21st century.

Aside from avidly supporting our military sisters and brothers, which I do wholeheartedly, I began feeling convicted a few years ago about how my expression of either peace or violence represented Christ as He would walk in our world today. Because I have a confession...I have a warrior's heart. When I hear of injustice in the political system of this nation, some travesty committed against the helpless in another, and the overall degradation of our world as a whole, I get angry. And not necessarily like the cool righteous anger that was involved in the whole Jesus-flipping-tables incident, but an anger that makes me want to take someone down for what has occurred, to wring some justice out of the dirty dishrag that we have created of our universe. 

But since even the Son of God refused to be a militant Messiah, I have tried to never allow my first "fight" instinct to control me, but to rather combat injustice with truth and love. In college, when a favorite professor and 7 other members of faculty were unjustly removed from their positions, I used my role as Student Chaplain to encourage and organize a peaceful protest, one that involved written petitions and public statements rather than angry protests. Ironically, even that manner of questioning the actions of authority resulted in a meeting with University leaders who called my behavior "un-Christlike" and "inflammatory". I suppose truth is often inflammatory, but so was Christ. 

The only real conclusion I have discovered is that I have a deep and abiding belief in nonviolence, but I am not a pacifist. The basic difference here, is perhaps best explained through the words of Francis Schaeffer.

 "The Bible is clear here: I am to love my neighbor as myself, in the manner needed, in a practical way, in the midst of the fallen world, at my particular point of history. This is why I am not a pacifist. Pacifism in this poor world in which we live - this lost world - means that we desert the people who need our greatest help."

I say that I am not a pacifist because I believe that there are times when, in defense of the defenseless, violence is necessary. If I see my neighbor attacked on the street, I will respond with protective force because I believe that is the loving response. I do however believe in nonviolence as an overarching way of life, which includes committing to a peaceful response when I am personally threatened, physically or verbally, and to advocate for peaceful resolution strategies as the first option always in any conflict. I do not get this right all the time, or even most of the time. (Case in point, taking a swing at a pervert in a bar.) And at some point, I would also like to share some thoughts on what I have learned about how nonviolence must be present in our language, how we speak to and about one another, as well as our actions, for our belief in peace to be valid.

But I keep trying. I keep trying because I believe that those of us who were born with warrior hearts are necessary. I believe God can use this nature as a force for good and justice and yes, ultimately peace in the face of evil. But that is only possible if warriors submit their raging hearts to the One who created their very souls.

Oh, and in case you were wondering, my "little" brother protects me now, so watch what you say...