There is an old joke about Quaker pacifism in action. It seems there was once a Quaker farmer who could not get his mule to move, no matter how he cajoled, pushed, or pulled. Finally, he looked the mule straight in the eye and addressed him by name. "Josiah," he said, "Thee knows I shall never curse thee, and thee knows I shall never strike thee; but if thee doesn't start moving this very instant, I shall sell thee to a Baptist who will!" Of course, the mule began moving immediately, being an animal of great wit and sagacity.
Like all good jokes, this one works because it contains a germ of truth. Quaker pacifism is founded on a bedrock of personal nonviolence, but Quakers live in a society that uses both violence and threats of violence as means of social regulation. It is simply impossible to live in a human society and not to participate in its violence. For centuries, we Quakers have papered over this ethical dilemma in three ways: by personally refusing to be violent, by being a witness for any and all acts of violence and oppression, and by working tirelessly with the victims of violence.
Thanks to Loren Cobb.
No comments:
Post a Comment