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Opening Prayer: A Confession
Almighty God, we confess that we have failed to live up to the example of Christ Jesus in our relationships with others. We have acted with unjust violence, personally and nationally. We have failed to stand up for those oppressed by persons in power. We have preached forgiveness while refusing to forgive. We have refused to give a human face to those we strongly disagree with. We have betrayed our faith by relying too much on politics and not enough on the power of prayer, love, and holy living. We have prayed as a nation for our good and victories, while projecting our own shadow onto the enemy, refusing to admit how wrong we might be in our own unconscious assumptions. We have compromised our claim to religious freedom by dishonoring those of other faiths and seeking to subject them to practices of our faith in a public context in which we claim we offer equal rights to all. We have violated the royal law of Love, which Christ teaches us, in these and other ways. Dear Lord, have mercy, forgive us, and cleanse us of all hypocrisy, violence, and fear that leads to harming others and the nature that you give to meet our basic needs. Amen.
Scripture: John 18
*I recommend you read John 19, also, which is a vital continuation of the Passion of Christ Jesus. You can access several versions at www.biblegateway.com/ .
Devotional Comments
Thomas Merton used a term of the Hindus, ahimsa (lit. no violence), that formed the basis of Gandhi’s nonviolent resistance and that shaped Martin Luther King, Jr., in his policy of peaceful resistance. Merton wrote, “Only love can attain and preserve the good of all. Any claim to build the security of all on force is a manifest imposture” (Passion for Peace: The Social Essays, Ed. William H. Shannon). Indeed, while force might provide a context for setting forth the good of all, as in confronting despotic regimes and overthrowing them, and in necessary homeland security measures, such means cannot effect good for all. That is an essential difference.
While most Christians and humans affirm the essentiality of just war, warfare, partly due to its violent nature, can do more harm than good: indeed, essentially, there are conquerors in war but no winners in war. And even when war is just in appearance at any moment of present, that does not mean the long-term effects prove just. We always need to ask, also: Just to whom? What appears just changes from person to person, people to people, and is shaped by many social factors. We all see through cultural eyes, and to assume that our “enemies” can see through our cultural eyes and, therefore, just don’t “get it,” is a naïve assumption.
Whether a just war is enacted or nonviolent means are the course, Merton’s words on nonviolence apply and arise from the wisdom of all the major world faiths. He writes, “To serve the God of Love one must be free, one must face the terrible responsibility of the decision to love in spite of all unworthiness whether in oneself or in one’s neighbor” (New Seeds of Contemplation).
Jesus, in the lesson for today, challenges us with his example of ahimsa. His nonviolence is theocentric. However, Good Friday challenges us not to relegate such action to just Jesus or to his “theological mission.” Good Friday throws before us the truth of how harmful violence is, even when called just, and what courage it takes to practice loving the very persons who oppress on a personal and collective level.
Let us reflect, this day, on the subtle means of violence we practice, even as persons who claim to be brothers and sisters in Christ. Indeed, world peace does not rest on political policy, rather, such depends on persons who become persons of ahimsa, beings of peace and peacemaking toward humans, animals, the environment, and all creatures.
In such consideration it is easier, likely, for each of us to recall how we have been harmed by other persons. However, we need to consider questions, like the following. Have I had within my heart any malice? Have I, intentionally or unintentionally, done harm to the reputation of another person? Have I gossiped about a neighbor? Have I refused to forgive anyone? Have I classified anyone as evil or wrong whom I have not given time to understand? Have I acted factiously? Have I used labels that classify whole groups of persons in neat categories that end up fostering their being viewed as less than human or less than "my kind of people"? Have I supported any national policy or action without first seriously considering, from different viewpoints, its rightness or wrongness? Even as a pastor and writer, I have to ask these questions of myself, and in the contexts of my service to other persons.
We each need to be honest and seek to examine ourselves before God. We need to pray about public policy and be willing to be seen as unpatriotic or ignorant if it means not supporting policy that is an unjust use of violence. In our homes, workplaces, faith communities, families, and neighborhood—and, yes, in our manners and behaviors while on the highway or interstate—we need to pray to practice ahimsa and pray to love those who practice enmity toward us. This is not easy, for while Love is simple, the emotions within us often lean us in the direction of violence rather than harmlessness. Let us be beings of peace. Amen.
Suggested Psalm Reading: Psalm 1
Spiritual Exercise
Reflect on ways you might need to ask forgiveness for acting violently or supporting violent intent or action.
Remember, we each often do wrong without knowing it. We each need to pray daily and humbly to know that wrong so that we might repent and practice helpfulness to all beings.
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