Tucson and the myth of redemptive violence

by Carol Bradsen

I write to you from Tucson. Many are in shock and mourning. Flowers and notes are piled outside of the hospital where our congresswoman and several others still need healing and our prayers. Thousands have packed into synagogues and churches over the last few days to find solace. To hear that we are not alone. To attempt to make meaning out of this madness.

Meanwhile, across the nation some are saying this act of violence means we must change our gun laws and tweak our political dialogue. Perhaps. But we fool ourselves if we think this is the answer. Guns and tongues are not the root. We need to go deeper.

Tucson is a flashpoint for our times. The loneliness, fear, anger, violence, and misplaced hope that seemed to have spurred the shooter are buried everywhere. In communities. In government policies. Even our own hearts to some degree, if we have the courage to be honest.

Something is clearly broken. Something needs to change.

If we really wanted to get at the root of things, we’ll need to do something much harder than changing some laws and being nicer; we’ll need to discard redemptive violence.

For far too long we have put our collective hope as a nation in the myth of redemptive violence. Redemptive violence is the idea that good, that peace, that healing and reconciliation can come from violence. If we want to see a different future, we will need to loosen our grasp and untangle ourselves from this deeply rooted lie. And it will not be easy.

“But I would never shoot anyone,” you say. “Jared Loughner acted alone. And he seems mentally ill.” “What does redemptive violence have to do with me? With him?”

Redemptive violence is systemic. It is in the air we breathe. And it will shape us if we do not have a clear vision of our true, God-given nature.

Redemptive violence is a spirit that has woven its way into the very fabric of our nation’s life and cultures. Our wars, weapons, military conflicts, execution chairs, gun laws, even many popular movies, are evidence that we as a nation have bought the lie that good can come from killing.

And this unchallenged, and very old belief, is killing us.

Jesus did not provide an easy path to follow. But he did show us another way. A life-giving vision of domination-free community that is just as radical and needed as in his day of Empire. He said to love our enemies. He had a special fondness for those discarded by the powerful. He said our allegiance was to be to God and to God’s way of love. He said to put the weapons away.

Within this new beloved community of God, the dignity of every human being is respected. We have not done a good job of this in Arizona. Many here call other humans “aliens” and “illegal.” It has been reported that a note found in the alleged shooter’s home said, “Die Bitch.” It is easier to dominate, and eventually, eliminate, another if you think they are not quite human. It is anticipated that the alleged shooter, if found guilty will be given the death penalty and eventually killed by the state of Arizona. Where will the violence end?

Are we brave enough to say, “Stop this.” Can we disentangle ourselves, our livelihoods, our language, and even parts of our liturgy from domination, war, and redemptive violence? It may leave us vulnerable. And in some places, we will be seen as un-American.

Are we creative enough to create spaces in our community where we love across our differences to share a meal, stop an injustice, build a home, really listen to one another, and lament instead of plan retaliation? It may leave us uncomfortable.

Are we faithful enough to live counter-cultural lives when the gospel demands it? Are we willing to let go of all violence once and for all as an option, even if it seems “just” or “needed.” It may leave us unpopular.

But this is the path of life. And joy. And hope. And God knows we need it.

The African-American theologian, Howard Thurman once wrote that God’s way will create, “a friendly world of friendly folk beneath a friendly sky.”

May it be so. And may Christians and the church have the courage to really live into this vision and bring it to reality, with God’s help.

* Carol Bradsen, MDiv '05 is a cofounder of the Restoration Project community in Tucson, Arizona, an ecumenical community dedicated to hospitality, playful spirituality, simple and sustainable living, and peaceful, prophetic action. (http://restorationproject340.wordpress.com)

We need to recommit ourselves to non-violence

By Kwok Pui-lan

We need to end the violent and incendiary language in our national political discourse.

The shootings in Tucson, Arizona, cannot be separated from the culture of vitriolic rhetoric we hear on talk radios and some TV programs. Since the election of President Barack Obama as the first black president, such rhetoric has escalated, especially during the health care debate last year.

The comments of Clarence Dupnik, the sheriff of Pima County have resonated across the world. He spoke on Saturday after the shooting outside a Tucson supermarket left Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords critically injured along with 14 others injured and six dead.

Dupnik said: “When you look at unbalanced people, how they respond to the vitriol that comes out of certain mouths about tearing down the government. The anger, the hatred, the bigotry that goes on in this country is getting to be outrageous. And unfortunately, Arizona I think has become sort of the capital. We have become the Mecca for prejudice and bigotry."*

In this month when we ponder the lives of two leaders slain by assassin’s bullets, Martin Luther King and John F Kennedy, it is time we considered these issues anew.

In 1965, Episcopal Divinity School student Jonathan Daniels heeded the call of the Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr and went down to Alabama to take part in the Montgomery March. He stayed behind to work for the Civil Rights Movement and to integrate the Episcopal churches. On August 20, he was shot while trying to protect a black teenager at a grocery store. He is considered a martyr of the Church and an icon of him hangs in St John’s Chapel at EDS.

In my teaching, I and other faculty members are careful to promote tolerance and critical engagement with those whose opinions are different from ours. One important guideline used from Visions Inc, is “it is OK to disagree, but it is not OK to blame, shame, and attack.”

In worship and meditation, many of us involved in theological education invoke the words and prayers of spiritual leaders, who have dedicated themselves to non-violence: the Rev Martin Luther King, Jr, Archbishop Desmond Tutu, and the Zen Master Thich Nhat Hanh. Amid riots and police brutality, King said, “I am convinced that for practical as well as moral reasons, non-violence offers the only road to freedom for my people.”

Most importantly, we take to heart the message of Jesus Christ: “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called the children of God” (Matt. 5:9). Jesus has modeled for us the courage of pursuing justice, while affirming the radical love of God for all. He said that the sun rises on the evil and on the good, and rain falls on the righteous and on the unrighteous.

Today as a nation we kept a moment of silence to honor the victims of the tragedy, Arizona Representative Gabrielle Giffords, Federal Judge John Roll, 9-year-old Christina Taylor Green, Dorothy Morris, Gabe Zimmerman, Dorwin Stoddard, Dorothy Morris and Phyllis Schneck.

I recommit myself to work for peace, to the non-violent resolution of conflict, and a democratic future in which diverse opinions can be expressed with respect.

* Editor’s note: Dupnik has already come under attack from some in the media, with one talkshow host calling for his resignation.

**Kwok Pui-lan is William F Cole Professor of Christian Theology and Spirituality at the Episcopal Divinity School. She has written for Episcopal News Service and her blogs also appear in Religion Dispatches and Patheos.