Peace Testimony

Peace Testimony

by Thomas Leverett, 1-20

I think that the stereotype of Quakers as “religious people who refuse to fight in wars” does everyone an injustice. I would like to change it to “religious people who renounce violence in all its forms.” This would make people think about it for a minute, rather than write us off as people who take advantage of hard-earned freedom, without being willing to put their own lives up for it.

Before pointing out the inaccuracies of that last accusation, I would like to enlarge upon the notion that one could really renounce violence in all its forms.  To me this is the heart of Quakerism, and I find this to be a lifelong discipline. I like to think about it in terms of daily activities, and I have ten children, so many of my daily activities have revolved around them. I consider the Peace Testimony to be the  renouncing of such things as swearing, verbal cruelty, anger, and spanking, as well as renouncing taking up a gun and actually going somewhere and killing someone. But what this means, as a practical measure, is that I am checking myself all day, every day, in every situation. Yes, I have gotten better at it, after many years of reasoning with myself. But I have had to organize my life to avoid violence; that hasn’t been easy, and Quakerism is my support system for this goal I’ve set out for myself.

To give just a quick example, revenge is the most natural of responses, to being wronged, being hit, or being verbally assaulted; it feels justifiable in many situations. But it doesn’t help things; it escalates them. A Quaker response, I feel, is to figure out how to respond without being angry, violent, or immoral ourselves. It’s not easy, but it’s possible, and we need to be able to do it often. It’s a daily struggle, not just one that pops up in controversial war.

It’s pretty obvious to most people that killing others is morally questionable, and that, even when a government has all kinds of good reasons for a young kid to do it, it’s still going to be pretty tough on the one who does the killing, perhaps even a lifelong problem. I sometimes explain Quakerism in part by saying that, if there is a reason “thou shalt not kill,” then perhaps we should do whatever we can to avoid it, up to just plain refusing to do it. But a sizable portion of humanity feels that there are lots of good exceptions. The commandment, as far as most modern Christians are concerned, doesn’t even include soldiers; whereas, for Quakers, it includes everyone. We don’t kill, because it’s wrong. But we organize our lives so that we are not violent in any form; or, at least, with that intention.

I always include the part about intention, because nobody is perfect. Quakers are not so much people who are never violent, as they are people who intend to never be violent. We are trying to be Quakers, but are not perfect just by virtue of calling ourselves Quakers.

My best example is whether or not to spank a child; I actually did, once, but was sorry and tried to avoid it from then on. In considering whether to spank our child one day when we are at wit’s end, we are more likely, by virtue of being attuned to our consciences, to conclude that it is best to avoid hitting. We will work to find other ways to resolve the situation. I don’t think I’m speaking for every Quaker here, as I suppose there are some who believe in spanking, but I think that, in general, since Quakers tend to renounce violence, you’ll see that pattern. But even then we aren’t perfect. And it’s not a black-and-white world, like it’s always obvious what other choices a parent may have in any given situation. You can’t predict these things, and sometimes you don’t have time to work out the other alternatives. But Quakerism is a constant reminder to seek what’s right, and do it if possible, and if we know that doing violence ourselves is not right, we should avoid it if possible.

When it comes to joining the army, I consider that there is one thing that should be clear to the Army, and probably is. We Quakers make lousy soldiers, simply because often we’ve thought carefully about it, and don’t agree with what they are asking us to do. This is different from someone who snaps, and shoots his own sergeant, or someone who loses his/her mind on the battlefield; those situations are quite common too, but that isn’t what I’m talking about. If you have rationally concluded that killing is wrong and you shuldn’t do it, you’ll have problems following orders when the chips are down, and therefore will be of more use to the government as a medic, or doing some other job. We are not opposed to service, and therefore many of us end up as medics. As a support staff soldier, we would still be part of a system that uses killing as part of its operation, so I, for one, would have trouble loading the weapons, for example, or luring the enemy somehow to their certain death. But I would have no trouble cleaning a bullet wound, or transporting medical supplies.

That’s because, living in the modern world, I’ve gotten used to being a part of a larger system that is, in its essence, violent. I was a resident of Texas for many years, and had to live with the fact that, as a voting citizen, I agreed to abide by the decisions of the majority, which included executing large numbers of criminals. A purer stand, from the point of view of a virtuous monk, would be to refuse to participate at all in such a system, and instead go about surviving on some piece of land somewhere, in such a way that one is not really involved in politics at all. Voting in such a way that one encourages the government to be less violent about achieving its means (such as, for example, Canada’s government, though even that seems like a bad example) would be one goal of voting, but it would also seem virtually unattainable in the modern world. But what I’m saying is, we are more than half swallowed up by the whale already, and that’s unfortunate, but it’s the world we live in. As successful as I get, trying to rid myself of anger, hatred, racism, violence, etc., I am generally surrounded by people who couldn’t imagine living that way (just watch in a grocery store checkout lane, where mothers slap their children for having their hands on candy), and the government is even worse. Force is the medium of choice in our world, and in a world of force, it all comes down to who carries the most or best hardware. Nobody is questioning the shopping process, or the fact that, when we’re all armed to the teeth, more people are going to get hurt, in general. Nor are they questioning what it’s like for the children who are being brought into this world, to have virtually every adult armed and ready to kill.

In my better moments, I am ready to go out into that world, so that, by example, people can see that there is a better way. The Peace Testimony is a way of living, a way of seeing every encounter; it’s more than a single decision in front of a draft board (which, in my case, never happened, as the draft was canceled the year I turned eighteen). I still don’t see a reason to arm myself, or shoot back, to hit children, use verbal violence with people, or exact revenge on people for carefully remembered slights. But we can’t expect the world to just change by itself, or be better than it is. The Peace Testimony, to me, means waking up every day, and getting back into the situation as it is, with the best of our conscience, and encountering the world as we know it.