We grieve at the news of the deaths of the school children and staff in Connecticut. The horror of the crime revolts us. We ask, “Why?”
Grief is abetter response than anger. Anger will seek to place blame elsewhere and seek some sort of revenge, a scapegoat. Was the shooter sick? Were the parents unfit? Was the school to blame? Eventually, a clue will be discovered, and a scapegoat blamed. It will seem to put this outrage to rest and allow us to go back to our normal routines.
One of my teachers of peace, John Dear, S.J shared on a retreat that here were only two emotions that were recommended in the Beatitudes: joy and grief. Anger had no place and needed to be converted to grief.
Grief takes us deeper and allows us to look for our own responsibility in all of this. Do our ‘normal routines’ insulate us from those who are marginalized… the poor, the mentally ill, the broken and outcast people in our communities? Are we doing all we can to keep all people connected and part of our community?
Grief ends the need to blame-ourselves or others. We may want to repent of our complicity in this tragedy. Do our ‘normal routines’ signal tacit support to the very violent society we live in? Have we become too jaded to think we can make a difference? We may be personally peaceful people, but do we express our discomfort/ outrage/ opposition to the violence all around us? If not, these tragedies will themselves become normal routines forcing us into narrower and narrower circles of engagement.
We risk being as insulated from the death of children in school shootings as we are already insulated from the deaths of children starved in our cities, or those killed by drone strikes in Pakistan and Afghanistan, or by economic sanctions in Iran. These are the children being killed in our name, for our “security.” Yet we let those tragedies continue unopposed.
We live in a culture birthed in, and deeply addicted to violence. From the massacre of Native Americans to the enslavement of African-Americans through lynching and its more legalized counterpart, the death penalty, by “winning” world wars and by “surgical” drone strikes we have been taught—and passed on—the myths of redemptive violence. “Might makes Right”
Children are raised on cartoons depicting violence as the solution to every conflict… brought to you by Hasbro’s GI Joe. For my generation, Popeye the sailor comes to mind. A can of spinach at the right time and you can rip Brutus limb from limb to save Olive Oil.
Today’s air waves are full of cop shows and detective series where the ‘good guy’ gets the ‘bad guy’ often through the use of deadly force.In the end, we are led to believe that violence saves us. And we believe it. Violence is the disease that is killing us.
And we wonder why a disturbed young man would turn to violence to fix his world?
Martin Luther King Jr. warned us the night before he was assassinated that our choice was no longer between violence and nonviolence but between nonviolence and non-existence.
Perhaps there is enough motivation in the deaths of these innocents to save us from ourselves. Maybe, through their intercession, we will come to see that there is no future in violence.
Nonviolence is not passivity in the face of violence, oppression or injustice.
Nonviolence, as used here, is a poor English rendition of Gandhi’s term “satyagraha” or truth force. It is a belief so deeply grounded in seeing the sacredness of each person that it recognizes people are not evil but sometimes do evil things. It and sees the hurt and pain that drives people to evil acts. Nonviolence is willing to sacrifice. It seeks reconciliation rather than victory. it does not count winners and losers. It believes wholeheartedly that love is more powerful than hate.
So we can begin a process of healing by grieving deeply over this loss of life and of innocence. Let us refrain from blaming others until we have looked within.
We cannot stay within for long, our nation needs to witness us turn away from violence in all its forms.
I believe that nonviolence is a better way. In Jesus, God demonstrated that Love conquers hate.
“They were overjoyed at seeing the star, and on entering the house they saw the child with Mary his mother. They prostrated themselves and did him homage. Then they opened their treasures and offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they departed for their country by another way.” Mt. 2:10-12
I’ve felt a need to start a blog for a while. The last words of this morning’s gospel gave me the title I’ve been seeking. You might call it an epiphany.
By another way… is about a nonviolent path of seeking peace, not through the avoidance of conflict but by creating right relationships and seeking justice. Nonviolence is not pacifism but the use of moral force to stand up against evil and injustice. Gandhi called it soul force…satyagraha.
I hope to communicate the struggles I have with this path.
I am a first born white male born into the American culture of the late 20th century raised on the myths of redemptive violence. I was raised in an all white suburb in Bergen County, NJ to be a Goldwater Republican. Our family was an early part of the Irish exodus (white flight) from the South Bronx. I was 2 years old. (Future posts will explain why after so many years of absence I spent two of the last four days in the Bronx again as part of seeking another way.)
An awakening of sorts began as a college freshman and prospective seminarian at Seton Hall University in the fall of 1970. I read some books by the brothers Berrigan and heard the gospel in ways never preached in my home church. I had a whole lot of new theology, some new actions like marching to protest nuclear weapons, but theology alone doesn’t create peace.
I left the seminary in 1977 started a family and worked as a carpenter. I lived the axiom that when you’re a hammer everything looks like a nail. I swung hard, ate and drank hard and worked long hours with no regard for the physical tolls each took.
After some hospitalizations I began to revaluate; call it a mid-life crisis. In 2003 I was offered a fresh start after the kids were all off to college. Out of necessity I began to pray anew. Finding ‘God’s will’ for my life was important and offered some surprises. My bride offered me a sabbatical to get out of the business I was in (by this time a high end kitchen and bath designer) to find more meaningful work. I went to work for Family Promise, as Director of the Just Neighbors program; we spent three intensive years doing and then leading Just Faith and we joined the Sisters of St. Joseph of Peace as Associates. We have a small faith community that meets in our home.
My reawakening to nonviolence was sparked by Fr. John Dear’s challenge to the CSJP community at our Chapter in 2008. “Become prophets, mystics and teachers of peace and nonviolence.” And so my journey continues… this year with a Pace e Bene program to train agents of nonviolent change.
The wise men of this morning’s gospel followed a distant star on a long journey to find the Prince of Peace. This blog will witness to the experiences and people I meet on my own journey to that Peace.It’s not too early to think about bringing my own journey Home. My road has not been a straight one, nor do I expect it to be be. Being a peacemaker does not come naturally. What I share may be counter cultural, or at least it ought to be. (Unfortunately.) But there are lights to follow and I count myself undeserving to have met, worked with, and loved some of them.
I can’t close this first entry without giving a shout out to one of those gentle stars on her birthday. Happy Birthday Mom, rest in the peace you so richly deserve. We miss you.