"Living in Truth: Active Nonviolence"
Michael Bischoff
Sunday, February 22nd 2004

I’m here to talk about claiming the power of God to move with us in nonviolent action. Nonviolence to me is fundamentally about moving with the spirit of God, especially in places of violence or injustice. It is really important to me—and a danger is that I can take myself too seriously. So I’d like to start with a game. I also find that playfulness often helps open me up to the Holy Spirit. [Sorry, since you weren’t there, you missed the game].

In the quote that was read earlier from Carter Heywood, she talks about the power that comes forth from Jesus. Living in this power is the most meaningful way for me to understand nonviolence. The question for me of how to live in the power of Jesus is both a very personal, spiritual question—and a political, strategic question.

I grew up with talk about Jesus all around me, but I pushed away the idea of Jesus for many years. About five years ago, I was on a retreat. At this point I didn’t believe in Jesus as a living presence. I thought that Jesus said radical, important things—but having a personal relationship with Jesus wasn’t a part of my life. It seemed kind of creepy.

As I was meditating at this retreat, I had the physical sensation of someone placing their hands on my chest. I looked around and nobody was there. But the power that was coming through those hands was stronger and more raw than one I had ever felt. I felt like it was ripping me open and making me quake (I am a Quaker by the way). I understood this as the power of God, but the power was too strong for me to take. I began to push it away. Then, I felt another physical sensation, which was someone placing their hand on top of my hand. A different kind of energy was behind this touch—it was one of compassion and a kind of love that could see so much of who I was that I knew that there was no use in hiding anything. Although we hadn’t really met before, I recognized this presence as the presence of Jesus. In contrast to the ripping open power I felt on my chest, the presence of Jesus was melting me. The message that I was hearing one was of reassurance—reassurance that the divine power coming through my chest wouldn’t kill me, and that He would be with me as it came though. One reason that calling this presence Jesus feels right to me is that when I say that name, compassion goes more deeply into my body.

So Jesus showed up uninvited, and since that time he keeps showing up in my life. There is a power in that presence that I have to deal with in my life. I know that there is a joke that if you listen for God, that is prayerful and saintly, but if you hear God (or if Jesus holds your hand) that is schizophrenic. I know about this danger, and I also know that the presence of Jesus is as real than anything in my life. That embarrasses me at times, but it is true.

It has become clear to me lately that what is most important for me now is this question: How can I live out this personal experience of the power of Jesus in my work and in social action? I don’t know the answer to this, but it is a question I need to be living out. How does that power move through people for social change? While I have done work related to nonviolent action and conflict resolution for many years, it has not been very connected to this internal experience. For each of you, I would ask:

How is what is most life-giving and powerful in your spiritual lives being lived out publicly and politically?

In Gandhi’s nonviolent campaigns in India, he talked about “truth force,” or satyagraha. Martin Luther King talked about the strength of love and soul force. Activists from Eastern Europe who nonviolently helped take down the Soviet empire talked about the power of “living in truth.” I believe that these descriptions point to a similar spiritual power that I experience with Jesus. It comes in forms other than the touch of Jesus’ hand, but the essence is the same—that living in accordance with what is most true for you, taking risks to live in that spirit in places of violence—is more powerful than violence or domination.

Something that has been helpful for me in integrating this personal and political soulforce is learning and telling stories of truth force in action on political levels.

• In Argentina, in the 1970s, 14 women who all had children killed or kidnapped by military groups took the risk of standing in public squares with large photos of their children, witnessing to this truth. This form of living in truth was very dangerous for them. It had ripples of power that brought down the military governments in Argentina and Chile that they could hardly have imagined on that first day.
• In Poland in 1980, a group of shipyard workers went on strike, even though the last time shipyard workers went on strike, 13 were killed. They took the risk of forming democratic unions across the country, even though this was illegal. The vision of free, democratic workplaces was a truth they needed to live into. This is still cited as one of the key sparks that brought down Soviet governments in Poland and many other countries.
• In Nashville in the mid-60s, a dozen college students and a pastor met in the basement of a church to plan sit-ins to integrate lunch counters. We all know the ripples from that group. You have a lot more than a dozen people here, at least one pastor, a couple different basements, and I know that the way you all live in truth has all kinds of power beyond what you can imagine.

So what gets in the way of me integrating my personal experience of Jesus’ power and my understanding of political nonviolence?

• Not knowing what the politics of Jesus look like. Growing up, I learned a theology that said Jesus was just about personal salvation. I can learn the reality of how the power of Jesus works to build the Kingdom of God on Earth—from MLK, Gandhi, Walter Wink, Gene Sharp. We can celebrate successes in Serbia, U.S. civil rights, India, El Salvador, etc.
• I’m shy. It is much easier for me to just stay with my own personal experience rather than living it out publicly. I see Jesus as a trickster sometimes. Maybe talking in front of 1,000 people about my experiences of Jesus would be good practice for me in claiming His power.
• Knowing how often the name of Jesus has been misused for power so much. As a white, heterosexual man from the U.S., my people have used the name of Jesus to justify domination and violence. I need to reclaim that power of Jesus and name it as nonviolent.. Many of us in peace and justice communities avoid power, seeing it as problematic in itself – but our job is to claim the power of nonviolence fully.
• Embarrassment: Claiming my own experience of Jesus, let alone in social change. Most people I hang out with aren’t especially into talking about cuddling with Jesus.
• Feeling not worthy of His power: As an individual and as a country, I don’t feel deserving of that love. I don’t deserve the healing and grace that comes when it moves through me.

Tell our own stories of what is most alive in our spiritual lives and pray for guidance about living that out more fully. Telling you all is a big step for me. So I challenge each of you to tell someone what is most alive in your spiritual life. And I challenge us to listen for how God might be calling us to live that out more fully, in social action and other ways. I’m doing a workshop about that here this coming Saturday.

Learn and tell stories of the power of nonviolent action. I’m doing a workshop about that here next week. Learn how others have lived out the politics of Jesus and apply these principles to current conflicts and injustices.

Go to places where there is hurt and injustice, and seek guidance for living out the presence of Jesus. I live in North Minneapolis as a lay member of the Visitation Monastery. There are eight nuns that are a part of this community, who choose to put themselves in a place that is often marginalized and sometimes violent, and seek to live out the spirit of Jesus through relationships there. If you want to learn about living Jesus, hang out with these nuns. I’m sure learning a lot about it there. Another opportunity to claim the politics and vision of Jesus is at your precinct caucus in a week, like Phil Steger talked about here a week ago.

Taking in the love of Jesus personally. While my own healing is not all there is, Jesus keeps reminding me that I need it dearly and I deserve it. And the more I can hang out with Jesus, the less need I have for being a jerk to my wife, or for trying to control her and others; less need to be fearful about my child, less need for fearing my neighbors. Right now being in love with Jesus is a primary path to nonviolence. Through that relationship I can live these other questions.

What will it take for each of us to know that power that comes forth from Jesus more intimately? To sink more into our bones and live it out? As individuals and as a country, we deserve it. We’ve all supported and committed violence in different ways. And God passionately says we are all still worthy of receiving his love. Are we as individuals worthy of receiving the power of God’s love? Are we as a country worthy?

I’d like to close by reading a poem from Teresa of Avila that speaks to me about the challenge of accepting this love of Jesus in our bones.

He desired me so I cam close

No one can near God unless He has
prepared a bed for you.

A thousand souls hear His call every second
but most every one then looks into their life’s mirror and say,
“I am not worthy to leave this
sadness.”

When I first heard His Courting Son, I too
looked at all I had done in my life
and said,

“How can I gaze into His omnipresent eyes?”
I spoke these words with all
my heart.

but then He sang again, a song even sweeter,
and when I tried to shame myself once more from His presence
God showed me His compassion and spoke a divine truth

“I made you, dear, and all I make is perfect.
Please come close, for I desire you.”