Living at peace with everyone? It is possible
As someone of the Mennonite faith, I have always been in communities that ground themselves in the value of peace, and of striving to live at peace with everyone—otherwise known as pacifism. Pacifism is the belief that violence on any scale, be it a schoolyard brawl, war, or anything in between, is always, categorically and without exception, wrong; that in all circumstances, peaceful means must be sought out as a response to conflict. As a part of this Anabaptist faith tradition with a long history of pacifism, this has, without a doubt, impacted the way I engage in conflict.
I grew up believing that to be in conflict with another person is to be in sin—that it is to go against God’s intention for life and community. My parents didn’t teach me this—on the contrary, they taught my sister and I that it is always better to make things right when you’ve wronged someone, and be honest with them when they’ve hurt you. And yet, somewhere along the lines, I internalized: Conflict is sin.
I think this comes, at least in part, from the Mennonite history of non-violence. Because pacifism can so easily become passive, and conflict so often escalates to violence, these two extremes wrap around each other until one can feel forced to choose one or the other. Am I a person who remains passive, or am I a person who succumbs to violence? As a woman who certainly isn’t the former, I have had to ask the hard question—must violence automatically be the other extreme?
In recent years, I have seen a shift. A shift from passive pacifism, to active peacemaking. Faith leaders have stood and said that peacemaking must be more than non-violence. It requires our action. I recently sat in a church membership class where this was discussed. Our non-violence must be active, it must make peace, it must serve the world around us. We worship a God who, throughout human history and the great narrative of Scripture, has been, is, and always will be, active. A God who acts on behalf of the ones who love Him, and who asks us to do the same.
As an adult, I have grown to find conflict fascinating. Sparked by a few college courses, and living in community Bible college and in overseas programs, I suppose. Not that I particularly enjoy wading through the muck of my own, but I find there is so much to be gained from an understanding of conflict and, as it turns out, relationships are made all the stronger for it. When we have those hard conversations—the “you hurt me” conversations, the “I was wrong” conversations, our relationships are left deeper and more intimate than they were before. One of my dearest friends started out as a person I could barely stand to be in the same room with. And yet, through the slow process of dealing with our conflict, through apologies, honesty, and uncomfortable conversations, we have become like sisters. And so I have learned that conflict—whatever the scale—requires action. And that action, however uncomfortable, is worth the genuine relationship it can produce.
Romans 12:18 says “If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.” For many years, I thought this meant staying quiet and avoiding conflict to keep the peace. I don’t believe this anymore.
“…As far as it depends on you…”
As with any community, as with any relationship, I believe this is so important in our interfaith dialogues. An active working to understand one another. To truly listen. We must, as men and women of faith, wade through the hard things—the conflicts and disagreements, to come to a place of deeper mutual respect and relationship. Not to compromise our beliefs, but rather to live them out more fully. After all, I know what the Bible says about hospitality to strangers (Hebrews 13:1-2), and how Jesus is the one true Mediator and Reconciler (1 Timothy 2:5-6). How can I live that out if I am not willing to invite people in, and have the hard conversations, and be reconciled with my neighbor? Because the degree to which I am willing to walk lovingly through conflict is the degree to which I value the relationship. Relationships with value placed on them have no room for sweeping things under the rug.
For me, as a Mennonite, to be an active peacemaker is to seek people out for the restoration of relationship, and to follow in the example of Christ, to reconcile and restore. To engage in conflict is to place value on the relationship, and to remember that people are worth wading through the hard things for.
As much as it is in your power, it’s important to do as much as you possibly can, to live at peace with everyone. Find out what the hard, underlying issues are. Work at them. Talk about them. Pray about them. Commit to listening, and asking to be heard.