I recently read a charming, but provocative, little essay in Brian Doyle’s book, Eight Whopping Lies. Doyle entitles the chapter, “Our Daily Murder.” I have found Doyle’s book so intriguing because I never know where he is going in his essays. Doyle is a Catholic, so I was not surprised this one was fashioned as a confession. However, in the beginning I was not sure what he was confessing.
He begins the essay, “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned…” (30) He continues to recount a recent school shooting in his state. Sadly, this has been too common in the news. In spite of this commonality, he laments his reaction and this is his confession. In typical Doyle fashion, he speaks boldly. He confesses, “I want to shoot the shooters. In the head.” He causes me to squirm a little, because he names something that I feel---at least in a slight form, so I rationalize.
And then he acknowledges, “And I was ashamed of myself, Father, because I wriggle with violent impulses, and I have punched and thumped and shouted, and in me is the same squirm of lashing violence as in every other man, and probably most women, if they were honest.” It is doubtlessly necessary to remind folks that he is talking to his priest and not God here. Or probably better, he is talking to God through the priest. Those of us who are not Catholic might miss this point.
I am glad Doyle recognizes that he has what he calls the same squirm of violence that was in the shooter. I recognize that in me, too. I am not pure. I am not innocent. I have not killed, but I know temptation. It is easy to recognize that I also have experienced anger and, likely, even rage. I have not committed a heinous crime or act of violence. But I have been quasi-violent. And no doubt, I have harbored thoughts about even more violence.
I remember, but not fondly, the first time I smacked my young daughter. I would likely have called it spanking in order to justify it as discipline. I am a Quaker and would have told you I don’t even believe in spanking. And yet that is what I did. I am sure she somehow ticked me off and in a split second of anger reacted---bang on the butt. She probably was wearing diapers and didn’t even feel it. But I felt it. I felt bad.
I need to focus on me and my actions---and reactions to something that triggered such action. I have a principle of nonviolence and, yet, in the spur of the moment, that principle was compromised. I am sure it was an emotional reaction to pop her butt. Only later could I rationalize it as discipline, as helping her learn right from wrong, etc. Of course, I believe in teaching her all those things. Of course, I realize many people believe spanking kids is perfectly justifiable and even necessary.
I can fast forward to the sad day of 9-11. Those of us old enough probably will never forget the planes flying into both of the Twin Towers. What seemed unimaginable was happening on the tv screens we watched. On that day all Americans had experienced something novel and we had some deep reflecting to do. But we did not always do deep thinking. Instead, as a country we reacted fairly quickly.
In my own thinking about that event and others in my life, I discovered an important distinction that helps me think about peacemaking. That is the principle I inherited as a Quaker and want to embrace. I am sure that is the principle by which Jesus lived and acted. I think that is what followers---true followers---of every major religious tradition wants to follow. The distinction is between retaliating and responding. I would say our nation retaliated against the bombers of those Twin Towers.
I realized retaliation entailed violence. We would use violence to combat violence. Short term this feels like it will work. If we think we are stronger---as individuals or nations---we are confident we can make it work. But I doubt that it ever does work as a solution. Instead, following Jesus’ lead, we do better to figure out how to respond. Responding is not the same thing as doing nothing.
For me the responding needs to be rooted in love. I know this risks sounding weak and hokey. But I take Jesus, Gandhi, the Buddha and countless others as my model. I don’t know how else we can become peacemakers, unless our lives and actions are rooted in love. I need the faith to believe this is the only way we win in the end. And the faith and love only work if there is hope to sustain us in and through the emotional temptation to violence and retaliation.
I also am aware I need community to sustain me. I know I will never make it on my own. I am not that strong. I need co-workers. Jesus is inspiring, but I need friends who tell each other we can do it. I join Doyle in his final prayer to God for a “flash of his love” so that we can make it.
I am not a peacemaker. I am becoming a peacemaker. You too?
He begins the essay, “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned…” (30) He continues to recount a recent school shooting in his state. Sadly, this has been too common in the news. In spite of this commonality, he laments his reaction and this is his confession. In typical Doyle fashion, he speaks boldly. He confesses, “I want to shoot the shooters. In the head.” He causes me to squirm a little, because he names something that I feel---at least in a slight form, so I rationalize.
And then he acknowledges, “And I was ashamed of myself, Father, because I wriggle with violent impulses, and I have punched and thumped and shouted, and in me is the same squirm of lashing violence as in every other man, and probably most women, if they were honest.” It is doubtlessly necessary to remind folks that he is talking to his priest and not God here. Or probably better, he is talking to God through the priest. Those of us who are not Catholic might miss this point.
I am glad Doyle recognizes that he has what he calls the same squirm of violence that was in the shooter. I recognize that in me, too. I am not pure. I am not innocent. I have not killed, but I know temptation. It is easy to recognize that I also have experienced anger and, likely, even rage. I have not committed a heinous crime or act of violence. But I have been quasi-violent. And no doubt, I have harbored thoughts about even more violence.
I remember, but not fondly, the first time I smacked my young daughter. I would likely have called it spanking in order to justify it as discipline. I am a Quaker and would have told you I don’t even believe in spanking. And yet that is what I did. I am sure she somehow ticked me off and in a split second of anger reacted---bang on the butt. She probably was wearing diapers and didn’t even feel it. But I felt it. I felt bad.
I need to focus on me and my actions---and reactions to something that triggered such action. I have a principle of nonviolence and, yet, in the spur of the moment, that principle was compromised. I am sure it was an emotional reaction to pop her butt. Only later could I rationalize it as discipline, as helping her learn right from wrong, etc. Of course, I believe in teaching her all those things. Of course, I realize many people believe spanking kids is perfectly justifiable and even necessary.
I can fast forward to the sad day of 9-11. Those of us old enough probably will never forget the planes flying into both of the Twin Towers. What seemed unimaginable was happening on the tv screens we watched. On that day all Americans had experienced something novel and we had some deep reflecting to do. But we did not always do deep thinking. Instead, as a country we reacted fairly quickly.
In my own thinking about that event and others in my life, I discovered an important distinction that helps me think about peacemaking. That is the principle I inherited as a Quaker and want to embrace. I am sure that is the principle by which Jesus lived and acted. I think that is what followers---true followers---of every major religious tradition wants to follow. The distinction is between retaliating and responding. I would say our nation retaliated against the bombers of those Twin Towers.
I realized retaliation entailed violence. We would use violence to combat violence. Short term this feels like it will work. If we think we are stronger---as individuals or nations---we are confident we can make it work. But I doubt that it ever does work as a solution. Instead, following Jesus’ lead, we do better to figure out how to respond. Responding is not the same thing as doing nothing.
For me the responding needs to be rooted in love. I know this risks sounding weak and hokey. But I take Jesus, Gandhi, the Buddha and countless others as my model. I don’t know how else we can become peacemakers, unless our lives and actions are rooted in love. I need the faith to believe this is the only way we win in the end. And the faith and love only work if there is hope to sustain us in and through the emotional temptation to violence and retaliation.
I also am aware I need community to sustain me. I know I will never make it on my own. I am not that strong. I need co-workers. Jesus is inspiring, but I need friends who tell each other we can do it. I join Doyle in his final prayer to God for a “flash of his love” so that we can make it.
I am not a peacemaker. I am becoming a peacemaker. You too?
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