“But I’m Not Violent!” (Part 2/2)

Author: Stef Miles

Standing on the Threshold of Violence

And yet there is another reason I think this conversation matters. Because sometimes we are much closer to physical violence than we realise. It's easy to imagine ourselves as peaceful people when life is peaceful. But what happens when someone threatens our family?

- What happens when we're frightened?
- What happens when we feel completely out of control?
- What happens when somebody we love is in danger?

These are the moments when violence can suddenly begin to look reasonable. Even necessary. Perhaps even redemptive. And this is why I think formation matters so much. It's one thing to believe in nonviolence when you're sitting in a room talking about theology. It's another thing entirely when your heart is pounding and you're terrified. We need to do the work of formation now. We need to allow Jesus to reshape our desires and our instincts so that, when those moments come, we have something deeper to draw from than fear, retaliation and the instinct to dominate.

A few months ago, I found myself facing something that brought this home to me. My wife and I were looking after my sister-in-law's child while she and her husband were dealing with something else. On their way back to collect their child, my wife received a message from them. They had locked themselves inside their car, along with two of their other children, because a man was violently attacking the car with a metal rod. I jumped in the car and drove to help. I didn't really know what I was driving towards. And almost immediately, adrenaline kicked in. I'm naturally quite conflict-avoidant, but as I drove towards what could potentially have been a very violent situation, I found myself praying over and over:

“Please God, help me disarm this situation without harming anyone.”

That prayer has stayed with me. It suddenly made the words of the Lord's Prayer feel much more real:

“Lead us not into temptation.”

I've often heard that prayer primarily in terms of personal morality. But increasingly I wonder whether there is something much bigger going on. What if we are praying not to be overcome by the temptation to use violence when violence suddenly seems like the answer?Because in moments of fear, panic and threat, violence can look incredibly convincing. It can feel like the only way out. The only way to protect ourselves. The only way to save someone. The only way to regain control.

And perhaps this is why Jesus in Gethsemane is such a powerful picture of nonviolence. Jesus has every reason, from a human perspective, to grasp for violent power. And yet he refuses. He refuses to save himself through violence. He refuses to meet violence with violence. He refuses to believe that the kingdom of God can be established through the same methods as the kingdoms of this world.

Thankfully, by the time I arrived, the situation had already de-escalated and I didn't need to intervene. But I haven't forgotten the experience. Because it made me realise just how quickly we can find ourselves standing at the edge of violence. Even those of us who think of ourselves as peaceful people.

Becoming People of Peace

And perhaps this brings us back to the question at the beginning.“But I'm not violent.” Maybe the answer isn't, “Yes, you are.” I don't think that's particularly helpful. Instead, perhaps Jesus is inviting us into a much bigger question.

What kind of people are we becoming?

Nonviolence isn't simply about avoiding physical harm. It is about cultivating a whole way of being in the world. Learning to resist fear. Learning to resist domination. Learning to resist accusation. Learning to resist retaliation. Learning to recognise the scapegoating instinct within ourselves. Learning to find creative ways of disarming conflict rather than simply winning it. And none of this happens overnight.

This is why I keep coming back to the idea of formation. At its deepest level, discipleship is about the transformation of desire. It's about learning to love what Jesus loves and learning to desire what Jesus desires. To slowly become the kind of people for whom his way of life begins to feel more natural. The goal isn't simply that we become people who avoid doing violent things. The goal is that we become people who don't need violence to secure ourselves.

I often think about something Samuel Wells says about violence as a kind of forgetting.

Violence forgets the past - It forgets that we were created in love and for love.

Violence forgets the present- It forgets that the person standing in front of me is my brother or sister, bearing the image of God.

And violence forgets the future - It forgets that God is drawing creation towards reconciliation, peace and communion.

Perhaps this is what Jesus is doing in the Sermon on the Mount. He is teaching us how to remember: To remember who God is, who our neighbour is, who our enemy is, who we are, and to remember what kind of future God is bringing into being.

So perhaps the invitation of Jesus isn't simply:“Don't be violent.” Perhaps it is something much more demanding and much more beautiful.

Become the kind of person who no longer needs violence.

That is the difficult path of nonviolence.

And that is why formation matters.