The courage to practice nonviolence

Hurt people hurt people. Healed people heal people.

Dear Reader,

As a 16-year-old, former U.S. Senator Carol Moseley-Braun defied her worried mother to march with Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. It was 1966 and King had been invited by the Chicago Freedom Movement to help them campaign to improve conditions in the city for impoverished Black Americans. Rallies, boycotts, and grassroots lobbying were used to pressure city leaders to address racial discrimination that kept Black residents locked in ghettos, overcrowded schools and low-paying jobs. But it was the marches through hostile White communities that ultimately got the city leaders’ attention and forced them to respond.  

During this march, through Gage Park, Mosely-Braun describes the angry White people who gathered to shout obscenities, and hurl rocks, bricks and bottles. At the time, many in the Black community were debating the appropriate response to such hate. “It’s natural,” Moseley-Braun said, “when someone throws something at you, you’re going to want to throw something back.”

During the march, King was struck by a rock and brought to his knees. Moseley-Braun saw him kneel for a few seconds to clear his head, then stand and continue to march.

Mosely-Braun described the look on King’s face as “beatific, saintly,” leading her to the epiphany that nonviolence was the more powerful, more effective means of resistance.

Spiritual leaders such as Martin Luther King, Jr and Mahatma Ghandi are often upheld as saintly figures, heroic in their ability to oppose violence with nonviolence. We credit the strength of their character or of their faith to resist the temptation to “fight fire with fire.” But to oppose violence with nonviolence also requires interior work, and the development of skill.

Kazu Haga, a student and trainer in the school of “Kingian Nonviolence” writes, “Desire and will alone cannot bring about the changes that we need. We need training and skill.” Haga’s book, Healing Resistance: A Radically Different Response to Harm, is an incredible primer for those interested in nonviolence as a form of resistance.

“Self-purification” is the language Ghandi used for nonviolent training. Haga describes this process as “a commitment to purify ourselves of the violence in our own hearts: the violence of hatred and resentment; the violence of apathy and hopelessness; the violence of unhealed traumas accumulated over our lives that have been passed down from multiple generations; and the violence of the ways in which we’ve internalized capitalism, colonialism, white supremacy, patriarchy, and any number of forces that keep us from being whole.”

Reading (I should say devouring, because I have underlined and flagged just about all of Haga’s book) Healing Resistance has returned me to the practice of meditation that I’d abandoned for many years, telling myself I was too busy to sit quietly and focus on my breath. Now, when I head to my meditation mat in the morning, I tell myself it’s my time of training. I sit with myself for a few minutes before the day begins and honestly acknowledge what I am holding in my heart and head. I see this as courageous care for myself, for the wounds I carry, and the healing I seek by not denying or avoiding my pain. I conclude each meditation with a prayer that I do not perpetuate spiritual violence against myself or any other.

The practice of nonviolence is also aided by a clear sense of what we are working toward. For King, the goal was Beloved Community. This goal, grounded in King’s Christian faith, cannot be reduced to a community of like-minded and likeable people. Beloved Community includes us all. King was able to face the angry White rock-throwers with love because the goal of Beloved Community included them as well. “Hurt people hurt people.” This is a common mantra for those who practice nonviolence. Beloved Community is a place of peace, love and reconciliation, a place where healed people heal people.

May we all have the courage to work toward this healing.

Recent writing:

I was recently honored to receive the James Solheim Award of Merit for Editorial Courage from the Associated Church Press for my editorial “Fostering love, not fear” from the Outlook’s June 2023 issue on gun violence.

My lectionary reflection for Sunday, May 19^th highlighted how the miracle of Pentecost is the cure for the curse of Babel. Acts 2:1-21 is a beautiful reminder of God’s desire for us to be a people connected, to strengthen our sense of community, to understand and empathize with one another.

My editorial for the May issue of the Outlook emphasized a theology of abundance and highlighted my reading of Creativity, Inc., by Ed Catmull, the co-founder of Pixar. Assembling a good team, Catmull writes, is more important than individual talent or brilliant ideas. Even the most talented people can form an ineffective team if they are mismatched, or if the culture doesn’t support creativity and candor in giving honest feedback. An effective team feels safe raising ideas, asking questions and following curiosities, even if they lead nowhere.

When it came time for the disciples to replace Judas, their nominating process involved asking the question, “Who do I know?” In this lectionary reflection, I write about the need for us to ask a different question when nominating or recruiting leaders: Who don’t I know?

Observing my local hospital’s emergency waiting room taught me a lot about hospitality. In this editorial I write about how the welcome we have received from God ought to transform us as Christians. To be welcomed ought to shape us into a welcoming people. 

Books I’m loving:

Oftentimes, I give myself reading assignments to help me with an upcoming editorial. I read Together: The Healing Power of Human Connection in a Sometimes Lonely World for an issue of the Outlook focused on the importance of gatherings and relationships. Together, written by Surgeon General Vivek H. Murthy, emphasizes the importance of building a more socially connected future to stem the rise of loneliness, division, anger and resentment. Social connection stands out to Murthy as a largely unrecognized and underappreciated force for facing the critical problems of our society, and our larger world.

For an upcoming Outlook issue on reparations, I read Rabbi Danya Ruttenberg’s book On Repentance and Repair: Making Amends in an Unapologetic World. Ruttenberg, grounded in the Jewish philosophy of Maimonides, provides a useful framework for acknowledging and repairing harm in personal, public and institutional relationships. I’ve grown increasingly uncomfortable with a “cancel culture” that feels quick to blame and shame but doesn’t offer a path to reconciliation and healing. The Jewish wisdom throughout Ruttenberg’s book provided helpful, step-by-step guidance for the work of repentance and repair.

As I returned to my meditation practice, I also returned to my favorite teacher, Pema Chödrön. Her book How to Meditate: A Practical Guide to Making Friends With Your Mind got me started. But I recently reread another favorite, The Places that Scare You: A Guide to Fearlessness in Difficult Times. Chödrön, an American Buddhist nun, writes with compassion and honesty. She begins The Places that Scare You with a story of receiving an essential teaching from an old woman when she was six years old. She writes, “I was walking by her house one day feeling lonely, unloved, and mad, kicking anything I could find. Laughing, [the old woman] said to me, ‘Little girl, don’t you go letting life harden your heart.’” Reading Chödrön’s practical wisdom when I am feeling lonely, unloved and mad, is balm for my tender heart.

Let’s connect!

Is your book club or church reading Necessary Risks? Are you planning an educational event for your church, presbytery or synod that aligns with the theme of Necessary Risks: Challenges Privileged People Need to Face? I’d love to get you and your group on my schedule—just hit reply to start talking or contact me by clicking here.