Image credit: Barbara Lane
It’s been interesting to watch my journey into nonviolence these past two and a half years.
The journey began with a lone statement that intrigued and arrested me:
Only love has the power to transform and overcome violence.
I stayed with that statement for months. I could not evade it. It wanted my full attention and would not let me go. So I turned toward the question and asked a number of my own: Really? Is this how all the darkness in the world and in our hearts is meant to be redeemed — through love? Is love the only way?
I knew it was true.
My own experience of being transformed by love was testimony enough for that. Nothing but love had ever transformed me. Can’t you say the same is true for you? When you honestly evaluate your life, can you say you’ve ever had true, life-altering transformation of heart, soul, and spirit any other way?
So I went in search of mentors. If the world and all the darkness and brokenness living within it could only be changed by encounters with love, then I wanted to see it. It’s no secret that I carved out a year of my life to study the great peacemakers. That initial year was the first of a whole lifetime before me that will continue to include such study.
But in the midst of that intentional study, I learned one main thing:
It begins with me.
Even when taking several months inside one summer to study and think deeply about this subject, the majority of those months were filled with the honest examination of my own heart before God. Together, we rooted around inside to see what was really there. And what did I find? Unforgiveness. Judgment. Arrogance and anger. Unlove in spades.
So I’ve learned this above all:
The nonviolent journey begins with our own hearts.
Much of the work of this space, this JTN blog, is about that central truth: how our own hearts increase in their capacity to love . . . because it is only from a posture of love that we ourselves become nonviolent, and it is only from the posture of our own nonviolent lives that we can ever hope to effect any change inside this world, no matter how grand or miniscule that change may be.
So it’s about learning to grow in love. That’s what we do here.
Over this last year, my journey into nonviolence has continued into these truthful depths in my heart. I have faced the reality of a competitive spirit. I have faced, and continue to face, my difficulty with the truth-telling side of love. (I look forward to sharing more about this in an upcoming post.) And I’ve continued to find my heart broken for those we normally call our enemies. For whatever reason he has deemed fitting, God keeps giving me a heart that weeps for those who hurt others.
More recently, God has renewed a fervency of love in my heart for himself. He’s been taking my focus off doing and planning and living with passion and cause in order to turn my full attention to himself. He has become, increasingly, the One True Object of my love these past few months.
And as we’ve grown in love together, I’ve begun bumping up against my struggles with God’s history of violence. I’ve found myself unable to fathom the wrathful side of God when my own experience of God is one of full acceptance, generosity, intimacy, and unconditional grace.
So we’ve had our struggles in the midst of this fierce love. And that’s been okay, and even good.
Speaking aloud here about my struggle with the violent God of history has been fruitful and has informed my ongoing journey. I’m so thankful you take this journey with me and feel the freedom to share your perspective and your own struggles. I find myself starting conversations, but it’s really from your contributions that I learn the most. So, thank you.
More recently, I have begun to find much peace in the knowledge that Christ’s coming changed everything and does make a difference. I’ve been surprisingly comforted by a theological idea I never much noticed before: that Christ’s descent into hell inside the grave was marked with revelation, perhaps, to those under the earth who may have anticipated his coming with eagerness or who may never have even known to expect it.
Just tonight, in fact, during a church service I attended, I was reminded of the verse that says “at the name of Jesus every knee should bow in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord” (Phil. 2:10-11, emphasis mine). This passage reminds me that the reality of Christ will become present knowledge to all at some point. No one will be left out.
That comforts me in the midst of this struggle that recently emerged with God.
That being said, I am sure I will continue to struggle with these ideas and many more. I have no illusions of them being settled once and for all, despite the current appeasement to the struggle that I feel. That’s why I continue to be glad to call this a journey.
But for now, I’m ready to go on living inside the kingdom. I’m ready to move forward in exploring the nooks and crannies of what that even means.
What does it mean to live in love inside this world?
Let’s continue to find out together.