Prophetic Nonviolence

I have been following the Planned Parenthood demonstrations going on in Aurora and the drama that is unfolding around there in defense of life. I was reflecting on the many “pieces of truth” that are undoubtedly being brought into the controversy all in the name of life. Even the women and men who claim to be pro-choice are exhibiting a concern for a life ethic, at least in some ways. Many pro-choice advocates are not pro-abortion, but are looking at one solution that is supposed to bring better “life” to pregnant mothers and their children. What gets lost in this battle of personal ethics and interests over whose “right” it is to choose life are the very lives themselves – and the solutions we end up tend to be exclusive, dominating, not life-affirming and violent.

A consistent ethic of life falls in line with creative nonviolence and what the dialogues regarding abortion are overwhelmingly missing is the avenue to “acknowledge, repair, and transform the infinite relatedness and unity of all life.” While we need to withdraw our support from non-life giving practices such as abortion, we also need to confirm and redeem the life of those seeking abortions and provide viable alternatives to prevent, remedy, and support expectant mothers and fathers, but particularly mothers as so often they tend to be the vulnerable and marginalized in out society. Both sides of this life-ethic issue have some truth to offer the other and the solutions proposed thus far do not appreciate the complexity of the issue nor the very real effects such systemized violence can have on all people.

In the newspaper articles I have read and people I have talked to, the proponents and opponents of the Planned Parenthood facility fall into one of two extremes: the clinic has a right to stay or get rid of the clinic altogether. The violence that is at the heart of this debate stays hidden among these simple, easy, and far-sweeping solutions. It does not even come close to touching the violent realities an expectant mother may face and drive her to such action as an abortion. A nonviolent approach necessarily considers her reality to compassionately react and find a solution that projects a consistent ethic of life for mother, child, and society. But, as we have all too often seen, creative nonviolence demands sacrifice and challenge to confront truths that may force you to reconsider your own truths.

In my mind, a nonviolent solution is a facility or institution that provides the relief and support (emotional, physical, financial, etc.) that affirms the life of the mother and encourages to birth her child…and not forger her once that child has been born. While many abortion seekers are unwed mothers, they (and their children) remain, in a sense, the widows and orphans Christ instructed us to love and care for the most.

This illustration or case study, which is all too real, demonstrates how a creative nonviolent approach and imagine or envision alternatives. The trouble is, both in communicating with those not open to discussion and the “pragmatist,” convincing them that such dreams can be a reality. While I do not claim to know the first thing about ministry for mothers to be, I can imagine a world where they are loved and supported and not drawn to violent solutions such as abortion. Yet communicating and inspiring others to buy into that reality is a challenge that can overwhelmingly cast you aside as an unrealistic dreamer, as an idealist who does not know the slightest thing about the “real” world. I find this especially depressing when trying to communicate about a world founded in the nonviolence of Christ with faithful Christians and still meet their resistance and faith in violence.

I am constantly drawn back to some of the great teachers of nonviolence not for their practical approach to social change or personal commitment to conversion, but to the language that they employed in their teachings or writings. The most interesting thing to me about how nonviolence played out in the lives of Dorothy Day, Dr. King, Cesar Chavez, Gandhi, the Berrigans, etc. is not how they were telling the world or society how they should change and transform, but the way in which they did it: as prophets. The image of prophetic nonviolence makes more sense to me than any other scriptural reference because it falls into line with all the other “crazy” prophets of Old and New Testament stories that painted the world in an ideal. The prophets encouraged a transformation to a higher ideal, to a higher, more consistent ethic of life but did not tell them exactly how to do it. Thomas Merton never spoke of how to initiate the social change needed to reflect an ethic of life and rejection of violence. Yet his prophetic call and invitation to embrace nonviolence as the way encouraged others to explore such an initiation. Perhaps through dialogue and faith in this creative nonviolent approach there is another soul who possessed the vision of how to inspire this change in society – in how to do the ministry of Planned Parenthood in a more consistent, nonviolent way.