by Michele Dunne, OFS
Writing to you on the eve of All Saints’ Day, I am reminded of how many Christian saints lived radically peaceful lives in times of war and strife—including, of course, our patrons St. Francis and St. Clare. The two of them stepped out of a system in which maintaining the wealth and privilege of their social class (for Francis the wealthy merchants and for Clare the nobility) led to repeated violence against others, whether the members of other classes within Assisi or other cities such as Perugia. Clare and Francis not only abandoned their own wealth and privilege but also declined to enter existing religious orders, which they might well have seen as participating in that social system and therefore complicit in its violence. Using no violence but great persistence, Francis and Clare pursued a different vision—something humble, peaceful, and compassionate.
Chapter 7 of Pope Francis’ encyclical Fratelli Tutti, which we will discuss at our November meeting, challenges us to rethink our ideas about peace, justice, and war. While I see myself as a peaceful person, in fact I am probably still under the sway of what the theologian Walter Wink called “the myth of redemptive violence,” the idea that violence and war ultimately are necessary to “save” us. It is not surprising that I might believe in redemptive violence on some level, because it is deeply rooted in many cultures, including here in the United States. But here is the question: is it Christian?
There can be little doubt that Jesus Christ was a radically peaceful person. Although born into a world rife with violence (Roman occupation, Jewish violent resistance, slavery, wars, and more), Jesus preached a gospel of loving enemies, praying for persecutors, and forgiving others seventy-times-seven times. He spoke clearly and repeatedly, at great personal risk, against domination by the wealthy and powerful, reserving his strongest criticisms for hypocritical religious leaders. When Jesus’ own life was on the line at the moment of his unjust arrest, he admonished Peter, “Put your sword back into its place; for all who take the sword will perish by the sword” (Mt 26:52). While Jesus’ statement is sometimes interpreted to mean merely that Peter should not interfere with God’s plan for salvation, it can also be understood to mean that Jesus rejected violence as ultimately destroying the perpetrator as well as the victim.
Pope Francis makes clear in Fratelli Tutti that rejecting violence does not mean accepting injustice or injury; rather he says that loving an oppressor means seeking ways to stop the injustice, thereby returning humanity to both the oppressed and the oppressor. But he does oppose forms of retribution that involve violence or killing. On the death penalty, he echoes St. John Paul II in calling it “inadmissible” and St. Augustine in pleading, “Do not let the atrocity of their sins feed a desire for vengeance.” On war, Pope Francis is also clear: “We can no longer think of war as a solution, because its risks will probably always be greater than its supposed benefits. In view of this, it is very difficult nowadays to invoke the rational criteria elaborated in earlier centuries to speak of the possibility of a ‘just war.’ Never again war!”
All of this is food for thought as we examine our own hearts and ask ourselves, deeply and honestly, whether we truly embrace the peacefulness of Jesus (as did Francis and Clare) or still nurture hidden desires to resolve problems through violent speech, actions, punishments, or war.