(We are in the middle of a series about the JTN manifesto. To learn more, click here.)
I remember when I first encountered the idea that love is more powerful than violence.
It was October 2008.
I was reading a book for graduate school called A Holy Longing by Fr. Ronald Rolheiser and encountered these words:
One of the reasons why the world is not responding more to our challenge to justice is that our actions for justice themselves often mimic the very violence, injustice, hardness, and egoism they are trying to challenge. . . . The anger, crass egoism, bitterness, hardness, and aggression of so many peace groups and movements for justice can never serve as the basis for a new world order. It will convert few hearts, even when it is politically effective. . . . Love, not anger, is the basis for nonviolence and nonviolence is the only possible basis for a new world order of justice and peace.
That idea got me thinking for days and days.
How deeply had I believed justice was merely about making wrong things right, no matter how it was done? To be truthful, pretty deeply.
If one was on the path to truth, I assumed it was okay for indignation and self-righteousness to come into play. That seemed excusable to me in defense of truth. After all, “they” were wrong! The situation needed to be made right! It wasn’t okay that “that” was happening!
But here was a new idea.
Somehow, it might matter what kind of energy I put out into the world in the quest for justice.
Somehow, the way I treat my neighbor might affect his or her heart and openness to truth, and their heart and openness to truth might also matter.
I realized this made sense.
People matter as much, if not more, as ideas in God’s economy. After all, it was a love for the world that compelled Jesus Christ to enter into it when we were hopelessly unable to live up to the lasting perfection of God’s ideas.
The more I thought about this, the more it continued to make sense.
Any change for good that had ever happened in my heart had been the result of an encounter with love.
Not guilt.
Not anger.
Not indignation.
Not violence.
Guilt may have motivated me toward right action, but it never converted my heart.
Anger may have made me cower in fear and comply, but it never made me trust and embrace.
Indignation merely served to make me rise up in defensive indignation, too, unwilling to change.
Violence made me lash out in violence, too, or quietly fade away into a mere shell of a human being.
The only thing that ever pierced the flesh of my heart and made me more fully human was an encounter with sincere, genuine love.
What about you?
A peaceful soul will always attract others and encourage peacefulness in their souls. I believe that is, in part, why we talk about Mother Theresa with such regard. She was a peaceful person, but a person with incredible power in her words and deeds. Peace comes from knowing that we are loved by our creator and that love is contagious.
Mother Teresa is an amazing example, isn’t she?
It amazed me to learn that there are people out there who devote time and energy toward disparaging her. For instance, do a Google search on Christopher Hitchens and Mother Teresa. It might blow your mind.
In these cases, I can’t help but wonder how someone can see the works of love Mother Teresa did and still question and strive to invalidate them. Is this a matter of someone’s heart being so hardened to love and compassion that it will take much more time and love to soften it?
Yes. Though, once again, I have my wonderings (I hope I don’t just sound like a devil’s advocate when I post here ;) ). My illustrations come from parenting because, lo and behold, that’s where I find my thoughts wandering lately. So here’s my scenario: I love my daughter, but I know that someday (probably sooner rather than later) she’s going to do something that I’ve told her not to do, maybe even something dangerous. To keep her from getting hurt, I may very well have to use “violence” (sharp words or grabbing her roughly) to stop her. And I wonder if there are times like this in the world–times where love can only and best be expressed through using violence to keep people from hurting themselves more. I’m thinking about ending major conflicts, etc. I guess I wonder if/how that changes or nuances what’s been said here.
Sarah,
Great questions and insights!
I wonder if this comes down to the way we define love. Does love = never speaking truth? Does love = only ever being gentle?
I don’t think so. I look at Christ, who was the embodiment of love itself, and how he spoke so definitively and directly much of the time.
Truth and love coexist. In fact, truth might be subsumed under the greater banner of love, an essential component of it.
Perhaps it is more like the following, a la John 1:14: Grace + Truth = Love
PS: Feel free to bring your devil’s advocate wanderings to the conversation anytime. As the name of this blog states, this is a journey. Questions welcome as we all learn and grow together!
Ah, yes. The power of love. It is so true that while I can profess to believe this, I have all too often fallen into the “righteous indignation” camp and used equally violent means to make my point: standing, yelling, mocking, and so on.
No proud moments there.
And I was thinking about the whole grace and truth proposition. James and I have often talked about how hard it can be to tell the truth, but how often that is the most loving thing. He has an example from that he uses to illustrate this point. He was at a party where a lot of people were getting drunk, and one guy in particular began banging his head violently against a brick wall. Others just stood and watched, thinking the guy was just drunk and doing what he wanted to do. Instead, James pulled the guy away and pointed out that he was in the process of doing damage to himself.
I think of telling less pleasant truths in the same light: if someone is doing themselves a serious harm, it is unloving to withhold the truth.
The manner in which this is done is entirely key, of course. I always think of Jesus and the woman caught in adultery. He rightly called her sin, sin but then encouraged her to “go and sin no more.” I often wonder how we can carry this forward as Christ’s ambassadors: speaking the truth in love to a world that desperately needs it. And not just speaking, but living and acting the truth in love.
I want to figure out how we do that.
I love that story you told of James, Kirsten. It demonstrates the incredible strength of character he carries. I dig people who are willing to go against the crowd’s flow.
I’m looking forward to the ways this space can provide avenues for us to practice living truth and love out loud: sharing, learning from each other, cheering each other on, processing new ways of being and doing.
I agree with your take on Jesus. One of the things I admire about him is his ability to be both full of eternal love but pretty direct at the same time. I think that came from knowing him knowing the person he was and feeling very sure in his space. Truth and love coexist in the same way that God and science coexist — they cannot be extrapolated from each other for the convenience of dogma.
I have spent too many years just trying to be nice – at great personal cost. For years I thought love and being gentle had to go hand in hand. But I have learned that being nice at the cost of your own beliefs leads to a tremendous amount of anxiety and fear – because — people end up thinking that you believe something completely different than you might actually believe and it’s hard to redeem yourself from that if you can’t even cough out the words, “No. I feel differently. This is what I believe is right…”
I try to listen more now than I ever have, but I do not automatically shake my head up and down while the other person is talking. I don’t try to make the person think that I agree with them through my body language anymore. Instead I listen intently, and react from within, from my point of truth. Before I never even really listened. I was more concerned with the other person thought about what I was thinking.
This new revelation has put me in conflict with people who I love. They were used to me the other way. It will take time for them to accept that I am not going back there. I am trying to approach these people with love and strength both, so that they won’t fear the changes in me. It’s just something I have to do.
I love your blog.
Diana, wow! You’ve shared some amazing insights here.
First of all, welcome! I’m so glad you’re here. I look forward to hearing more from you. Thanks for joining in the conversation.
It sounds like you’ve been on an incredible journey into your deepest integrity: wanting who you really are to be the same person people see and experience in conversation and relationship.
I hear you on the difficulty of bringing this new approach into old relationships where different expectations exist for who you’re thought to be. Changing expectations can be so hard, especially with those closest to us. I remember being amazed once when someone told me, “Relationships are dynamic. If even one element in the relationship changes, the whole relationship changes.” So by bringing a different way of being into your relationships, you are inevitably changing the system. That can be scary for people … we don’t often like change, do we?
I’m inspired by your conviction to “listen intently, and react from within, from [your] point of truth,” and how that even includes changing the posture of your body and the way you do or do not nod your head while listening. Again, I feel like all of this is a window into a deep level of integrity when you are interacting with others.
Thanks for sharing, Diana. So glad to meet you and so glad you’re here.
“Guilt may have motivated me toward right action, but it never converted my heart.
Anger may have made me cower in fear and comply, but it never made me trust and embrace.”
I really love those two observations because of the truth they portray. I find myself knowing that I respond to God in a negative way when it is a game of fear factor. But, in the process of that I don’t know how to hold mercy and a healthy fear of God in suspension.
I still don’t have the answers to that. There is a saying and a picture that sticks out in my mind concerning the two statements above. It goes: “I may be sitting (in obedience) on the outside, but on the inside I am still standing.” I totally see myself in this place and the thing that scares me the most is the meekness of God to give us freewill.
I want to call it a curse, really. It seems that way when you can’t seem to get control of certain dark places in your heart that lead you into, well, darkness.
I hear you, Tammy. It can be a terrible thing to encounter our dark places and want them completely eradicated, only to find out that God won’t wipe them out without our cooperation, and we begin the wrestling match with him and ourselves as we grapple with the very hard thing of letting those things go.
What you said about the meekness of God giving us free will really made me think. I never thought about God being meek before. I was looking up that word because I’ve been hearing it a lot lately, and the dictionary defines it as: “quiet, gentle, easily imposed on.” I’d love to hear your thoughts on how you see God as meek, as you’ve given this greater thought than I have, and I’d love to learn from you!
Christianne
Are you sure you want me to answer that about the meekness of God? I have a lot I could say about that and it would take me a few blog posts to get it all out. Never ask a “preacher” certain questions unless you really want a long winded answer.
All joking aside I really do love that part of God and have a lot of scriptures that I could elaborate on concerning that aspect of God’s character.
Tammy, you know I *always* want to hear what you have to say, especially when it concerns anything getting the preacher-girl in you to come out into the light! You are one of whom it is easy for me to say, “Preach it, sister!” Your way of seeing things is always so illuminating, and your way of expressing those things is always fresh.
So, blog away. Take several blog posts to do it if you need to. I’ll pull up a chair and listen with my ears wide open!