“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.” (from The Preamble to the Declaration of Independence)
I remember how I felt as a kid hearing these words for the first time… a flurry of excitement, a sense of pride to be an American, and to be in a country shaped by this exalted vision. Seventy years later, I realize that these inspired words contain the seeds that propelled U.S. culture down a dark path.
Unfortunately, the rugged individualism that helped create our lasting vision for the United States also contributes to a popular myth that has fueled our long history of violence. The myth is: violence leads to peace.
No, it won’t.
A brief accounting of U.S. history shows that violence sets the stage for more violence, and the violence only escalates. We fought the Revolutionary War (1775 – 1783) to break free from British rule. A century later, we fought the Civil War (1861-1865) over the controversy about slavery. World War 1 followed, leading to World War II and the creation of the atomic bomb, the most destructive weapon that humanity has produced. We dropped two of these on Japan.
Then came the 1960s. We witnessed the assassinations of President John Kennedy, his brother Robert, and the civil rights leader, The Rev. Martin Luther King. We lost close to 50,000 soldiers in the Vietnam War (1960 – 1975). What seemed an unthinkable act of violence occurred on September 11, 2001, followed by brutal wars in Iran and Afghanistan.
On and on it goes. The world is not a more peaceful place. We are not a more peaceful union.
We stoke the illusion that peace and better times are just around the corner, while ignoring the full impact of our violent history. Yet our belief in violence as a path to peace has deep roots. Cynthia Bourgeault writes:
“For the American Founders, the Cartesian ‘I think, therefore I am’ was the self-evident truth from which all inalienable rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness followed. The starting point is that ‘I,’ the individual, actually exists: with emotions, volition, a personal history, and a solid core of identity that both needs and deserves opportunity for self-expression… We experience ourselves first and foremost as … individual selves. We move out into the world, making our life choices, accomplishing our goals, fulfilling our destiny. It all seems obvious.” (Cynthia Bourgeault, The Wisdom Way of Knowing, pages 63-64)
Descartes left us with what became an assumed truth: “I know I exist because I can think.” Well, it’s only a partial truth. Yes, our thinking abilities are extraordinary, and unique aspects of being human. However, thinking does not define our existence. I exist because I am alive; my heart is beating, blood is flowing, cycles of breath go on every minute of every day. I exist because I laugh and cry and dream. Love and being loved is the reason I exist.
This attachment to the intellect as proof of existence breeds our trust in our ego. “I” becomes the center of the universe and fosters our sense of separation from others. We easily become focused on accumulating power, specifically power over others.
The drive for power over another is the beginning of war.
Is it any wonder that we find ourselves in chaos, driven by an unquenchable hunger for money, power, perfection, and recognition? What is the antidote to this fixation on violence?
I don’t pretend to have the answers, but I know this. We in America need to re-claim our sense of “we” which is buried beneath the rubble left from over two hundred years of violence.
Theologian Rebecca Ann Parker suggests we learn to recognize ourselves as:
“… people living in the aftermath of cataclysmic violence rather than as people awaiting the overthrow of the present world order and the birth of the new…. From this place of honesty, we must discover how we can live among the ruins.” (Rebecca Ann Parker, Blessing the World: What Can Save Us Now, page 21)
The American vision expressed in the Declaration of Independence deeply inspired France’s motto, Liberty, Equality, Fraternity. That one word, “fraternity”, reminds us that a country is a community to be cared for. We seem to forget that about America these days. Human society needs wisdom and compassion, focused on building up communities, not tearing them down.
We do not do this work alone:
“We must turn to those who have survived grief, victimization denial, and paralysis. We must look to the witness of those who have found a way to live lives of dignity, honesty, creativity, and activism, and we must take counsel from survivors, resisters, and truth tellers.” (Rebecca Ann Parker, Blessing the World: What Can Save Us Now, page 23)
And we need lots of practice in cultivating our minds and bodies, in creating the life-affirming society we long for.
Over two thousand years ago, Jesus told his disciples that their highest purpose was to love others as God has loved them. His message was that our primary attention is to be given to our relationships, bringing forth love in all of them, beginning with our relationship with Him. This was the path toward what Jesus called the Kingdom of God. Religions around the world echo this same message.
Rebecca Ann Parker encourages us:
“In our time, hope means not running away from the icy, hard ground of suffering, violence, injustice, and deceit. It means savoring the sweetness of human love, lighting the Sabbath candles, smelling the spices, and opening our hearts to the sources of refreshment and grace that are given to us. Survival means reconstructing from the ruins a world of hospitality and peace. It means living as one of those who, as Adrienne Rich says, ‘with no extraordinary power, reconstitutes the world.’” (Rebecca Ann Parker, Blessing the World: What Can Save Us Now, page 24)
May we begin today.
QUESTIONS FOR REFLECTION
~ What is one thing you can do today that will contribute positively to another person or group?
~ What is one thing you can give up today that will ease the burden of another person or group?