Nonviolence has a voice
On civil rights, a spiritual challenge, and winter trails.
The community of followers and subscribers to Braided Trails has grown since the last edition, and I welcome one and all. If you’re not ready to invest in a paid subscription on a month-to-month or annual basis, you can buy me a coffee instead if you’re so inclined, with my thanks.
The federal holiday honoring Martin Luther King, Jr. is within a week of January 22, the anniversary of Roe v. Wade. Those dates are linked, wrapped up as they are in civil rights. It’s tough to assert any other right before the right to life is acknowledged. (That belief has gotten me into trouble on occasion, but that’s a tale for another day.)
I’m used to speaking out and speaking up. I treasure my First Amendment rights and I’m suspicious when I perceive threats to them. I have trouble maintaining my composure in the heat of debate. Perhaps you know the feeling.
Now and then I’ve even thought that if I’m not being edgy, I’m not being honest. If I’m not offending someone, then I’m not speaking truth to power. If I don’t fire off my words like weapons, I’m not being authentic.
Dr. King’s legacy reminds me that I might be missing something. When he taught nonviolence, he kept mentioning the uncomfortable truth that violence of speech is as much to be avoided as violence of fists.
Hmmm.
Before marching in Birmingham, Alabama in 1963, he and his colleagues trained the volunteers who wanted to participate in civil rights demonstrations in the city. (Read his Why We Can’t Wait for more details.) Within a list of behaviors to be adopted or avoided, two jump out at me, fresh and sharp after all these decades.
Walk and talk in the manner of love, for God is love.
Refrain from violence of fist, tongue, or heart.
Dr. King was after more than just outward behavior. He was exhorting his followers to cultivate peace of heart. Not “niceness,” but peace.
Writing 40 years later, Pope Benedict XVI picked up the thread. “...nonviolence, for Christians, is not a mere tactical behavior but a person’s way of being, the attitude of one who is convinced of God’s love and power, who is not afraid to confront evil with the weapons of love and truth alone.”
So I’m invited to see nonviolence is an attitude, not a tactic? Suddenly I feel seen, in a most uncomfortable way.
Oh, sure: don’t swing that fist. Don’t push back. Got it. But what’s that about avoiding violence of tongue or heart? That requires a discipline born of real intention, not just the feelings that come so naturally to me.
I’ve managed not to call anyone “a$$hat” or “scumbag,” to mention two of the epithets that found their way into my news feed today in reference to demonstrators and law enforcement employees currently facing off in the Midwest. Other words like “racist,” less vulgar but just as pointed, are thrown around so much that they almost - almost - lose their sting. I haven’t used those words. Cue the Pharisee, straight out of Luke 18:11.
There are other words, though, that reflect the turmoil I feel in spirit when I see a human being dismissed and devalued. Am I in the grip of righteous anger, or just spitting-mad rage? Will I ever get to the point where I can control my own words without having to throttle back something sharp and bitter?
Dr. King again, from the instructions to the Birmingham marchers, which I’m sure he repeated wherever he spoke: meditate daily on the teachings and life of Jesus. He stressed that nonviolence is passive physically, but strongly active spiritually.
There’s hope in that. I can keep striving, reflecting on that Life and those teachings. Those, and not my feelings, can guide me to the nonviolence Dr. King and Pope Benedict were talking about.
Something inside me resists that even as I write this. Human life is at stake. There’s trouble nearby, now, urgent, pressing, demanding pushback.
Will I pray before I push back? Will I seek that nonviolence of tongue and heart? I suspect that’s something I’ll have to work on as long as I live. Speaking hard truths from a place of love requires a supernatural grace. My feelings aren’t enough.
The national March for Life in Washington, D.C. is scheduled for later this week, January 23rd. I won’t be there this year, and I’m sorry to miss the alt-pro lifer gathering, and if you don’t know what that is you need to check out Secular Pro-Life. May all who travel for the march do so in safety and peace.
I saw this snow figure on the National Mall before a MFL a few years ago. It still makes me smile. I wish I could take credit for building it.
New Hampshire had its own march for life earlier in the month. I saw many longtime colleagues and friends, but as is so often the case at pro-life gatherings, I was struck by the number of students from area high schools and colleges. Each one of them is a sign of hope. I treasure such encouragement.
From the Granite State Walker files: how about winter hikes that aren’t hilly? Let me know some of your favorite places. I’m always on the lookout for good places to discover, whether in boots or on snowshoes.
My prime winter recommendation for my New Hampshire area readers: you’ll enjoy rail trails, particularly those that aren’t open to motorized vehicles. Hats off to the Goffstown, Windham, and Londonderry rail trails, and the people who maintain them. Also, check out your local Parks and Recreation department and Conservation Commission, whose web sites probably include maps of trails within town/city properties. If you’re a skier or snowmobiler, God bless you, but I stick to walks in wintertime. Wave as you pass me.
Odds and ends:
If you’re a writer, published or not, take a look at the Catholic Writers Guild’s online conference taking place at the end of the month. The price is right, and the information on the writing process and the writing industry make the event well worthwhile. (It was a CWG conference that led to my first book contract.)
My online portfolio is at ellenkolb.com, including a contact form. My hiking blog, Granite State Walker, has recreational information for anyone living in or visiting New Hampshire. Instagram and Facebook users can keep up with my work on those platforms as well.