Humility.
That’s a difficult word. Not to understand, really, but to live out. We all know what it means, and how we’re supposed to be humble. But we don’t like to limit ourselves so instead we limit humility’s application in our lives. I’m a man, a husband, a father, a friend, an American. Humility only goes so far.
Oh, yeah. And I’m a Christian, too.
I am in constant danger of living comfortably in two extremes. I can either entrench myself within myself, and be absolutely silent, in fear of failure, in fear of people realizing my inadequacies, in fear of realizing myself that I am not good enough at what I have been trying to do for so long. The other is side I fall into is the dark trench of an amazing level of pride and arrogance. I don’t fall into this one as much anymore. I used to be in the upper echelon circles, have folks applauding me and feeding my head at a very young age. Though a rarity nowadays, there’s still the danger. And the balance is what I try and keep. I need to stop being self centered, self indulgent and hurt my family. I have a lot to offer and a lot to learn. “Get up and deal with it, son.” And both of those extremes require, you guessed it, humility to overcome them.
It’s not my job to coerce people to become Christians or even pacifists. That idea is at the very core of nonviolence. I’m not here to force you to be like me. That would be counterproductive. Like using military force to help people live in peace. Or using capital punishment to discourage people from killing each other. The way of force is not the way of Christ.
My role as a pacifist is not to be an arrogant elitist, separating myself and my family from the general population because we are superior in our way of following Christ. I appreciate what John Roth wrote, and will just quote him here as I could never state this better:
Too often . . . Christians—and perhaps especially Christian pacifists—can slip into a tone of arrogance and belligerence. We can be so self-assured of the moral superiority of our cause that we lose sight of the fact that Christ’s way of peace calls us to respect the dignity of all people, including those who seem to be our enemies.
Thus, arguments for Christian pacifism that seek to win their case through rhetorical bluster or crafty forms of logical manipulation have missed the whole point. In its very essence, Christian faith is invitational rather than coercive.
A humbling statement in and of itself. While John Roth is not saying stay away from dialogues, discourses, debates and so on with respect to the topic and practice of pacifism, he is warning against the prideful displays that truly all Christians can fall prey to, believing, “We have made it. You all better hurry and catch our train before it’s too late.”
My role as a pacifist is to be a witness. The way of peace—the way of Christ—is a way; it’s a life. There’s action involved. It’s all encompassing. It is the imitation of the Lord. And that is my role. I am not to coerce, but to show by example. This is also where the growing project, nonresistant, comes into play. It will be a way for Christian pacifists to share their lives, their studies, their endeavors, their experiences, with everyone, whether pacifist or not. We can provide information, answers to questions, openings for dialogue. We can be the bridge to the people, a bridge that leads to the way of the cross: the way of Christ.
As my beautiful bride reminded me the other day, my own conversion to the way of peace was not overnight, nor was it by my own doing. Christ himself did the work on my heart and mind. Why should I believe it’s going to be any different for anyone else I have the opportunity to engage with? So while I’m speaking the way of peace, I must show them what it looks like. And that starts with humility.
On a side note, it’s quite difficult for me to say the phrase Christian Pacifist. I don’t know. It just seems repetitiously redundant. Like when I ordered a cheese quesadilla one time. In a Mexican restaurant. To a Mexican. Who laughed at me.
