No Victory In Violence
“I object to violence because when it appears to do good, the good is only temporary; the evil it does is permanent.” Gandhi
Today is the 65th anniversary of Gandhi’s death. Today I reflect on his wisdom, his compassion, his faithfulness, and the mighty works he accomplished through nonviolence.Sixty-five years and a hemisphere away in Guatemala, violence is all around. I usually use this space on my blog to point out hope and to look for the good.But there are some realities that I just can’t call good.Guatemala boasts one of the highest murder rates in the world. The daily newspaper reports gang murders, domestic violence, a disturbingly, heartbreakingly high rate of sexual abuse, child abuse, theft, and corruption. The translation app on my phone is riddled with the Spanish equivalents for kidnapping, embezzlement, armored cars, trial, conviction, and even dereliction of duty—all words I never learned in my college Spanish classes.The newest word in my collection: genocidio, genocide. Just this week, it was announced that “Rios Montt, the former dictator, and his intelligence chief [will] stand trial on charges of genocide and crimes against humanity in connection with the massacres of villagers in remote highlands three decades ago.” (read the full article here)The reaction to this news from my Guatemalan and expat friends has been surprisingly mixed. A woman in my friend's Bible study stated that maybe God will save Rios Montt because he’s a Christian and because he kept Guatemala out of the hands of communists. Then I have friends who cheer the trial as a victory for justice. And then there are those who think the trial is too little, too late, a weak attempt at justice, an affront to those who suffered unspeakable violence.I wasn’t in the States for the most recent presidential election, but my Facebook feed provided enough dogma from all political sides to make my head spin. It’s strange to find myself caught in the middle of opposing ideologies in a foreign culture, as an outsider. My head’s still spinning, and my heart still hurts for the people caught in the middle of the arguments, the ideology, and the violence—both structural and physical—that is employed in the name of these ideals.I'm learning more and more how much I disagree with using violence as a means to an end, even if I agree with the end. Here in Guatemala it’s easy to see the damage that violence has caused and continues to cause, the evil that perpetuates and permeates.Gandhi wrote, "What difference does it make to the dead, the orphans and the homeless, whether the mad destruction is wrought under the name of totalitarianism or the holy name of liberty or democracy?"A couple of months ago I visited the Maya Ixil (ee-sheel) area, where many of the acts of genocide Rios Montt is being charged with occurred. Throughout the late 70s and early 80s they lost an estimated one fifth of their population. They found themselves caught between the military fighting a war on communism and the guerrillas waging a revolution against an oppressive regime.
As I think of the homes that burned down. The fathers and brothers and sons that were disappeared. The land that was destroyed. The families divided. The children that grew up fatherless, with even less opportunities to thrive than their ancestors, and the single mothers left to raise them. As I think of all these people caught in the violence, the lyrics of a Mason Jennings song echoes in my mind, echoes Gandhi’s sentiments:"I don't want no victory, I just want you back." Mason Jennings, The Field.This isn’t meant to be a political post or commentary, but a place to process. A space to grieve the pain and loss of my Guatemalan friends, spoken and unspoken, often buried way down deep. A moment to place my heart with them, knowing full well that I can’t ever really understand what they went through or even begin to sort through my own country’s complicity in the physical and structural violence, both during the war and now.Today, 65 years after his death, I want to celebrate the wisdom of Gandhi’s assessment that “An eye for an eye only ends up making the whole world blind” and to mourn the parts of this beautiful culture that are crippled and blinded by the legacy of violence.***If you’re interested in learning more about Guatemalan history and the armed conflict, I highly recommend Tomas Guzaro and Terri Jacob McCombs book, Escaping the Fire.For up-to-date Guatemalan news and tidbits, I recommend the Roots and Wings International blog. They highlight innovative and inspiring projects throughout Guatemala, as well as discuss pertinent development and justice issues.To read more hopeful or entertaining posts on Guatemalan culture, check out these past posts:
T.S. Tuesday: Bold Words for a Brave Life
I've been ruminating a lot on the words of T.S. Eliot that I posted last week.
"To do the useful thing,
to say the courageous thing,
to contemplate the beautiful thing,
that is enough for one man's life."
The words are beautiful. I'd say that'd be quite enough for one man or woman's life.
I find I often copy down beautiful words in hopes that they will materialize in my life, but more often than not, they don't.
I don't do the useful thing.
I don't say the courageous thing.
I don't contemplate the beautiful thing.
I lock myself in my comfort zone.
I seize up when given a chance to do or say something brave.
Or self-focus clouds my ability to even see an opportunity to serve or encourage someone else.
I reject beauty. I cling to the critical.
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Sometimes I feel like a hypocrite for writing. For sharing prayers that haven't yet taken root. That I only hope will begin to bear fruit in my life.But it's a step. A first of step of bravery. To write it. To say it. To want it. To pray it.That's what affirmations are, right? The first step in transformation. In claiming our identity as children of God. In living a life that more closely matches our words.Although she's not T.S. Eliot, today I wanted to share the bold and beautiful--and hard to live up to--words of Sarah Bessey in her prayer/exhortation to Be Bold in an Ordinary Way for She Loves Magazine.I've followed Sarah's blog for awhile now and if anyone could use her words and her vulnerability and her raw and honest faith to inspire me to do the useful thing, to say the courageous thing, and to contemplate the beautiful thing, it's her.Please check out her beautiful post, maybe even read it out loud when no one else is around, and take the first step toward ordinary boldness in our ordinary lives.Be Brave in an Ordinary Way
Let me be brave in an ordinary way first.Let me mother out of my best hopes instead of my worst fears. Let me love ferociously into the mundane corners of our life. Let me find God in my laundry pile.Let me take off my masks, admit my imperfections, tell my stories. Give me grace to be the one who jumps first.
Read the rest here.
Full Spectrum Faith
"When we numb the dark, we numb the light."
I read a beautiful post yesterday by Sarah Bessey inspired by Dr. Brene Brown's book, The Gifts of Imperfection. Dr. Brown is an expert on authenticity, shame, and courage--yeah there are people who actually research shame for a living. In The Gifts of Imperfection she shares what she’s learned from a decade of research on the power of Wholehearted Living, which to me sounds a lot like the abundant life Jesus promises to give us. Dr. Brown espouses embracing imperfection, seeking connection through vulnerability and authenticity, and loving ourselves for who we are so that we may offer that same love to others.I could write for days on Dr. Brown's findings, but the point I want to share today, and that Sarah so beautifully recounted in her blog, is the idea that we can't successfully numb the bad things in our lives--the hurt and pain and disappointment--without numbing the good things too--joy and celebration and love.Dr. Brown writes,
“In another very unexpected discovery, my research also taught me that there’s no such thing as selective emotional numbing. There is a full spectrum of human emotions and when we numb the dark, we numb the light."
Yowza.When I want to numb the pain of leaving a job I used to love, when I numb the pain of missing my friends from the States, when I numb the pain of the injustice and inequality I see all around me, I also numb the good. I numb the gifts. I numb the joy.
It's the same with God's voice.
I can't just choose to hear the good.I want to hear I love you I love you I love you. But I don't want to hear correction or command or something as difficult as a calling.Yes, I pray. Yes, I seek to hear His voice. But on my terms.Sometimes hearing His voice is life-changing, awe-inspiring, joy-bringing. But sometimes hearing His voice is hard. Sometimes it means I'll have to give something up to truly follow Him--my money or my time or my pride.As a follower of Christ, I'm mortified to admit that sometimes tuning my ear to His voice feels more like a buzzkill than a delight.He can't possibly want ALL of me. Even in this moment? When I want to sulk or critique, numb or retreat?I expect Him to tell me good things on demand, but I cover my ears and blab "nah, nah, nah, not listening!" like an insolent child if I think a reprimand or a suggestion or something I don't want to hear will be uttered.I want to DELIGHT in His voice; I really think I do. But I have trouble connecting the desire to the action.I want to be open to everything He has to tell me, the good and the bad, the sweet and the hard.When will I kneel before my God and say, "Your way is better"?I want to trust that following Him completely is the way to JOY. Yes, the way of sacrifice and inconvenience, but also the only way to joy.
"Better is one day in your courts than a thousand elsewhere" say the Psalms.
I can barely give it an hour.God, I'm sorry I've made you into a vending machine God, picking and choosing what I want from You. I want to be real before You, vulnerable before You. I want to stop hiding from the dark, in the dark. I want to seek Your light, Your fullness, Your plan for me, even if it's hard or inconvenient. I trust that Your way is the BEST the way. And that Your voice is the voice of TRUTH and GRACE, even when the truths sting and I have numbed myself to the grace. I am sorry for not trusting, for not listening. Today I will face the good and the bad, the dark and the light. Today I will embrace a full spectrum faith. Amen
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Do you find yourself picking and choosing when or what to listen to when God speaks? How do you learn to surrender to all He has to say to you?
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Coming up on the blog: Stay tuned for more reflections inspired by the lovely Sarah Bessey this week.
And I highly recommend getting a copy of Brene Brown's The Gifts of Imperfection. Happy Monday!