In honor of the day, August 6

I am as many know a Quaker by "convincement" to use the old Friends' terminology.  This is the result of a lifelong journey.  It was in my role as a Quaker, a member of the Religious Society of Friends, that I participated in the non-denominational worship service organized by Pastor Dan at the just concluded Yearlykos 2007. 

I suggested that given in the importance of this day - the anniversary 62 years ago of the nuclear attack on Japan, that we remember in some way that event.  In this diary I will share my participation, first in the Prayer of Hiroshima, which VirgoMusic read as part of one meditation, and then with the material I read in the "Quaker Meditation" that Pastor Dan suggested I do.

I invite you to continue reading.
In the passage below, the term "Hibakusha" is the plural of the Japanese word used for those who survived our August 6, 1945 attack.

The Prayer of Hiroshima

Hibakusha say simply, "I met with the A-bomb." Perhaps they use this expression because the event they "met with" defies description?an instant of massive destruction, mind-numbing death and injury, and the grief of watching helplessly as family members, relatives, friends, and neighbors died in agony. They also say, "It's painful even to remember." The A-bomb witnesses have overcome that pain and are passing on their experiences of that day. They feel duty bound to tell the world why nuclear weapons must never be used again. The continual prayer of the A-bombed City Hiroshima is to unite humankind toward our common goal, genuine and lasting world peace.

I began my "meditation" by noting that the Religious Society of Friends has long been associated with what is known as its Peace Testimony, which was first expressed in a letter to King Charles II in 1660.  The next blockquote contains some material from that letter:

We utterly deny all outward wars and strife and fighting with outward weapons for any end or under any pretense whatsoever; this is our testimony to the whole world . . . .
. . . The Spirit of Christ by which we are guided is not changeable, so as once to command us from a thing of evil and again to move us into it; and we certainly know and testify to the world that the Spirit of Christ which leads us into all truth will never move us to fight and war against any man with outward weapons, neither for the Kingdom of Christ nor for the kingdoms of this world...therefore we cannot learn war anymore.

I chose to complete my meditation by reading the final four (of 6) paragraphs from a reflection on the piece testimony published in 1996 in Quaker Life (and the entire piece may be read here).  I have in the blockquote below chosen to place in bold those parts upon which I placed vocal emphasis as I read.

At the heart of this conviction is Friends' experience that there is something of God - the seed of God - in all people. Quakers believe that more can be accomplished by appealing to this capacity for love and goodness, in ourselves and in others, than can be hoped for by threatening punishment or retaliation if people act badly. This is not to ignore the existence of evil. It is to recognise that there is no effective way to combat evil with weapons which harm or kill those through whom evil is working. We must turn instead, in the words of early Friends, to the 'weapons of the spirit', allowing God to reach out through us to that of God in those with whom we are in conflict. 'Spiritual weapons' - love, truthsaying, nonviolence, imagination, laughter - are weapons that heal and don't destroy.

All this sounds grand indeed; its consequences are for the most part very ordinary. The peace testimony is not something Quakers take down from a shelf and dust off only in wartime or in times of personal or political crisis. Living out a witness to peace has to do with everyday choices about the work we do, the relationships we build, what part we take in politics, what we buy, how we raise our children. It is a matter of fostering relationships and structures - from personal to international - which are strong and healthy enough to contain conflict when it arises and allow its creative resolution. It is a matter of withdrawing our co-operation from structures and relationships which are unjust and exploitative. It is a matter of finding creative ways of dealing with conflict when it does arise, with the aim of freeing all concerned to find a just and loving solution.

Like everyone else, Quakers live in the real world. Insights which are gloriously clear in the spirit translate into words or actions which seem muddled and imperfect. From time to time we fail; we fudge; we are hurt and hurt others. To accept as a certainty the spiritual conviction which underlies the peace testimony is not to be certain of the outcome. We cannot guarantee that we will never kill, far less that we will never do violence to those with whom we share the earth. Nor can we, by refusing to do harm and seeking always for a creative response in conflict, ensure either our own personal safety or the triumph of the causes we support. We can only choose to live day by day as if it were possible always to defend what we value and to resolve conflict without deliberate harm - in such a way that if damage occurs, healing is possible.

If we choose to attempt this, we are not alone. Those who have lived and witnessed before us (by no means all of them Quakers) have left examples to find and follow. Those of us alive now who are struggling with the same dilemmas can offer each other comfort, courage and support. And we are many. Like seventeenth-century Quakers, we live in an 'end time' - a time of crisis, of rapidly shifting perceptions, a time of great danger and great opportunity. People are becoming aware of their interdependence, and of the interconnectedness of creation. We are beginning to realise that security is common, indivisible, and cannot be assured by military means. To seek to live, at such a time, in 'that life and power that takes away the occasion of all wars' is no longer (if it ever was) a saintly, other-worldly alternative; it is now an urgent and practical imperative.

Let me offer just a few additional thoughts, not shared as part of yesterday's meditation. 

First, as a teacher I do not impose rules in my classroom.  Quakers tend to examine our behavior through "Queries" - a series of questions upon which we from time to time reflect.  In my classroom I have posted three questions upon which "discipline" is based:

- do my words and actions demonstrate respect for others and myself?
- do I pay attention to the words offered by the teacher and my fellow students?
- am I prepared for this class with the necessary work, materials, and mental preparation?

By phrasing things in terms of questions each individual in the room - including the teacher - is asked to assume responsibility for her or his participation in the group effort.  Using questions implies that the goal contained in those questions is something to which even as we aspire we will from time to time fall short.  It allows an interconnection when one person recognizes the possibility of such a shortfall on the part of another to SUGGEST considering how one may have fallen short rather than creating a situation of confrontation.  It is my experience that it is far easier for someone to accept responsibility when asked rather than demanded.  I acknowledge that as a teacher I have a responsibility for the order of my classroom.  But while an order imposed by force of will may get compliance it usually does not result in real discipline because it does not seek the ACTIVE commitment of those upon whom compliance is being imposed, and it is only through such active commitment that true discipline will exist. This approach demonstrates a humility on the part of the one nominally in charge (in my classroom - me) that the "authority figure" is neither omniscient nor omnipotent (and if you see this as a reference either to the idea of the unitary executive or to our stance in Iraq you are perceptive students and I congratulate you, although my intent is far more expansive than these two examples).

There is a further advantage in phrasing the structure of "discipline" in terms of questions.  It empowers my students to hold me accountable to the same standards to which I want them to aspire.  In my acknowledging that I may fall short, and that I WANT them to help me improve by gently (if possible) pointing out when I do, I acknowledge our common humanity - and to me our humanity consists both in our imperfection and simultaneously our ability to improve and thus not despair when we fall short.  The approach also tends to provide a mechanism through which the chance of confrontation can is lessened, because there is a way of resolving conflict that is less demeaning of the individuals involved.

The reflection from Quaker Life is important because it acknowledges on the part of those of us who adhere to the Friendly path that we are not perfect, and that we are also not alone in our approach, a path that can be described in the biblical phrase (from Psalm 34:14) of

Depart from evil, and do good; seek peace, and pursue it.

In our common humanity, and in our shared community - in all that I do - I will strive to live this approach, which means I acknowledge that I will fail, and I invite others to remind me - hopefully with gentleness and love born from that common humanity - when I do.

Those of us who desire Peace on the global scale must acknowledge that we cannot hope to see that if we fail to live by the standards of piece on the scale of our individual lives.  So let me conclude by quoting again the final words of that piece rom Quaker Life:

To seek to live, at such a time, in 'that life and power that takes away the occasion of all wars' is no longer (if it ever was) a saintly, other-worldly alternative; it is now an urgent and practical imperative.

Peace.

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