Peace on Earth

I like the holiday season for many reasons; one being that we talk about peace much more often. In the Christian tradition we spend the four weeks of advent talking about Hope, Peace, Love, and Joy. Many Christian congregations read passages of hope out of Isaiah picturing a type of peace that exceeds our experience and sometimes our imaginations. Christmas carols talk about “…peace on earth good will to men.” Friends send each other Christmas cards with “peace on earth” on them, or with pictures of lions and lambs cuddled up closely (Isaiah 11: 6-9). I feel sad though, when I perceive that these thought provoking words become as trite and apparently meaningless as Santa’s “ho ho ho;” as if the two were entirely synonymous. I wonder sometimes, what do we really mean by “Peace on Earth?” I’ve been thinking about this question through this holiday season and want to share some of my ponderings with you.

When I say “peace on earth,” am I asking something of God? If so, what? Perhaps, I am asking an all-powerful God to come down as a ruler, to put things right. Perhaps I’m asking God to end the wars, to change language and behavior, to be the one everyone knows is right so we won’t have to fight anymore. But does God really do that? Will God muzzle the lion and tether the lamb? Does “God with us” merely mean that there is a rooster in our hen house, someone obviously “on top” so we won’t kill each other? Does God use force to end force? So, what if I’m asking something else? Perhaps I ask our all-powerful God to take hopeless situations and turn them into something beautiful beyond all imagination. Do I mean to ask God for transformation when I say “Peace on Earth?” And what if God still chooses not to force?

When I say “peace on earth,” do I ask anything of others? Or, more powerful yet, am I asking anything of myself? When, at first, I see no other way than force to meet my needs do I ask the lion, wolf, leopard, and bear with-in myself to look for another way? When I perceive myself as powerless do I ask the lamb and calf to be courageous yet vulnerable? Do I ask myself to retain innocence as a child and my viper to be kind? Do I ask myself to look to those weaker than me for some direction though I may have power? And still, what if God chooses not to use force? Could it be that God, the only One who can transform, does not transform unless we want it, ask for it, and work toward the goal? Perhaps the first step to a peaceful world is ours; a step to join God in doing what God will not force.

It could be that “peace on earth” has no more meaning than a vague hope, like flipping through catalogues containing items we can’t afford. I hope that “peace on earth” contains prayer as well as anticipation. However, I also hope that “peace on earth” is more than relying on Someone stronger than us, but a reminder and invitation to join God in transformation.

Through the Eye of Another

When I take a picture I choose an angle and I choose what I want to include. When you look at the picture I take, you get the chance to see what I saw. In this way a picture is kind of like a story. We see another’s experience through their lens. This month the National Geographic is hosting a photography competition. People send in striking photographs from around the world and all of the pictures are posted on the Internet for people to admire. I was scrolling through them the other day, enjoying the one-frame stories, when this picture captivated me. I want to share it with you this month.

National Geographic photography contest; photo by Robert Spanring

Really? That’s all, an eye? Look a little closer and you see the intricate complexity of something so familiar. We can see different shades of various colors: dark lashes and a black pupil as well as browns and greens in the iris. If you look even closer you see a reflection; we get to see what this person saw. Through the other’s eye we see a large geographical feature in Australia called Uluru, otherwise known as Ayers Rock. The photographer titled the photograph “Eye of the Traveler” and wrote, “Many people pilgrimage to Uluru, but what is seen there often depends on where you’ve come from.”

For some of us, images help us understand an intellectual concept at a deeper level. This picture reminds me in a beautiful way that previous experience directly affects the way I see, what I think, and what I value. For example, Uluru represents for some people a deep part of their family history. Legends are passed down from generation to generation about this sacred spot. For others Ayers Rock is a spot on the map to visit one day. Perhaps it represents adventure for them. Still others gain employment from the tourist trade. For them Ayer’s Rock represents income.

With different experiences and different ways of seeing life, it is no wonder we disagree with each other! Then, when we disagree it seems very tempting to pull in generalized information, “facts,” in order to prove our point of view. Surely, if others understand the facts we can all agree! In reality, facts rarely solve a problem. The information we choose to focus on depends on our past experience. It is a fact that many find Uluru to be a sacred place for many generations. It is also a fact that Ayer’s Rock provides income for many through tourism! If we know that “where we come from” affects what we see and think we do well to go behind the facts to hear specific experiences. In doing so we get a clearer picture of the other's point of view. Often, this proves much more effective than battling with facts. Hearing each other’s stories sets a stage for working together on a problem rather than struggling to win an argument. As this picture reminds us however, when we take the time to look for what another sees, it points out the complexity of what we had perceived as simple.

"Plen-ty of time sir"

As the weeks of October go by I’m still thinking about what I wrote last month – remembering to slow down and take a little time during anxious situations in order to reach a more sustainable result. This month I want to tell you a story that I think might help clarify what I mean. This story is one I have heard from my Grandma many times.

Gram spent her formative years in India. Born to missionary parents on the plains, she went to boarding school several days’ train ride away from home. “Going down day” was when the students made the trek from the school high in the foothills to the train station on the end of the plains. There they would separate into groups according to destination and meet the adults who had come to supervise the trips. On this memorable trip down, Gram’s dad met her and her brothers, as well as some other children going to the same area. Because of the length of their journey, they had to change trains at a station called Bina. Their train was scheduled to arrive at Bina in the early hours of the morning so Grandpa told the children to help him watch.

Of course, one might as well get comfortable for a long train ride. So the travelers opened their bedrolls, kicked off their shoes and socks, opened their luggage and made themselves at home. They were all sleeping when the train ground to a stop. “What station is this?” someone asked groggily, “It’s Bina!.” Chaos reigned. Shoes, socks, half open luggage, bedrolls, flashlights, everything went flying out the window. As the last person hopped off the train shoeless, sleepy and scared, the conductor could be seen, holding his ample belly and laughing. “Plen-ty of time sir, plen-ty of time,” he told Grandpa Friesen. To their chagrin, as the train rolled over a switch in the track, the platform lights went out. After such an anxious, high-energy moment, the travelers were left with a mess and no way of seeing what needed be done. Somewhere in the collective mountain of belongings was a flashlight, and the work began with trying to find it.

Can Gram’s story teach us something beyond the obvious? I think it holds several lessons for us. 1. In intense moments, such as conflict, I think that I need to hurry and do something quickly to take care of the situation. 2. When I hurry I never do as good of a job, then it takes me more time to take care of the mess I made. 3. Being intentional in stressful moments – including conflict – often brings about a more constructive, longer lasting solution. So, when we’re blindsided by high stress moments of conflict, let’s take a little time to think and be intentional or perhaps we will end up with a mountain we didn’t see coming.

Keeping Time in Perspective

My Granddad used to say that one could put up with anything for a short amount of time. Knowing that the present, uncomfortable situation will not last long is one thing, but the unknown in difficult times increases anxiety. Author Richardson writes: “Anxiety…is more uncomfortable than fear, which is a reaction to the known…Anxiety is less tangible and more amorphous than fear. For this reason we feel a lack of control.” As anxiety about the unknown intensifies it seems normal to do everything in our power to make the discomfort stop. So, as either individual or collective anxiety increases, our actions become more reactive and instinctual rather than carefully thought out. Decisions made quickly in stressful situations only take into consideration that particular moment and therefore carry unseen consequences.
We can all think of emergency situations where quick instinctual decisions are necessary. If we assume that the decisions made in situations of conflict only affect the present moment leaving the future a blank slate in front of us, perhaps this style of making decisions wouldn’t ever present a problem. However, if we look at time through other lenses we see the importance of careful decision making in times of interpersonal stress. John Paul Lederach writes of two such perceptions of time.
1. One year, at a meeting between the National Council of Churches of Kenya and the Nairobi Peace Initiative, Africa, a woman named Jebuwot Sumbeiywo shared the view of time she had learned from her parents and grandparents. In her native language people speak of the past that lies before us and the future that lies behind us. Thus, we move backward into an unknown future while we see the past that has affected both the present and the future. Viewing time this way changes the importance of the past, as well as the decisions we make in the present.
2. In a conversation regarding a land dispute between a Native American tribe and a nearby city, one member of the tribe brought up the urgency of the situation. A tribe elder reminded him, “Decisions made seven generations ago affect us yet today… and decisions we make today will affect the next seven generations.” During the direct negotiations between the tribe and the city the differing perspectives of time were obvious. One began with “from time immemorial…” the other showed concern about immediate issues. For one the decisions of the past greatly affected the present situation, the consequences of which would affect seven generations. The other concerned themselves with several years in the future, at most.

Anxiety can give us needed energy to work toward solutions in conflict. However, allowing anxiety to push quick solutions merely reverts to the status quo and the issues in conflict will probably come up again, and again. Though perhaps it seems counterproductive at the time, slowing down decisions in order to look for the wisdom of the past and the consequences for the future make for both healthier process and longer lasting solutions.


Sources used:
Creating a Healthier Church, Ronald W. Richardson
The Moral Imagination: the art and soul of building peace, John Paul Lederach
The Hidden Lives of Congregations, Israel Galindo

From Where I'm Standing

My family went hiking the other day. The hike started out as a rather rambling walk on a torn up mining road. Then as it made switchbacks up the mountain we walked through the woods, through meadows covered with wild flowers, and finally climbed to where we could see the mountains emerge in all their glory. When we climbed higher, game trails provided flat places to put our feet as we followed a ridge up to a peak. I noticed something as I hiked; what I saw depended on where I stood. At one point a relatively small rise in the ridge where I stood blocked the majestic White Cloud Mountains. How could something so small block something so large? But as I continued hiking my view changed, the mountains loomed large and beautiful while the rise had shrunk to nearly nothing.
It seems simple. Perspective, of course, is nothing new to any of you. Perspective comes into play when you stand just right so that the sun isn’t in your eyes. Perspective suggests that hoeing a row of vegetables from both sides ensures a more thorough job. Science names this phenomenon parallax; accurate visual observation requires factoring in where you are standing.
This idea affects relationships and conflict too. What I see or hear or think depends on the angle from which I look. There are many aspects of life that affect our perspective. For example, our families and friends; those people with whom we spend time, affect how we see the world. Our memories, past experience, and education help us make decisions. Even our race and our gender affect our perceptions. When we listen to each other it seems easy and natural to gauge and evaluate what we hear by our own angle. Evaluation is central to forming values and living by experience. It is a necessary act, in its place. I wonder though, do we take the time to really listen in order to understand? Metaphorically speaking, do we miss a view of mountains because of hills? Do we miss weeds because we do not bother to change our angle? It is easy to hear only in order to form a response. But what would happen if we listened for the other’s angle? What if we took a few steps back for perspective? Can we stand just right in order to glimpse another’s view? What if we worked toward that first, before any evaluation or any decision? Perhaps it is time consuming and indecisive. But maybe this is the path to understanding even without agreement; unity in the face of diversity.

Honeybees and Decision making

This time of year there are bees everywhere: flowers, vegetable blossoms, and fruit trees. My brother keeps bees and I find these tiny yet powerful creatures fascinating. Thousands of them live together and share the work of the hive. They care for the eggs the queen lays, store up enough honey for the winter, and even make decisions. Social scientists study these amazing insects to learn about this hive decision making, hoping to apply the lessons to human group decision making. If bees can do consensus, perhaps humans can too.
Recently NPR interviewed Thomas Seeley, professor at Cornell and author of Honeybee Democracy. Professor Seeley provides a short description of how bees make decisions. When a hive gets too full it splits, half the bees follow the old queen and half stay behind to raise a new queen. Older bees scout out the surrounding area, bringing with them news of available sites. Then they do a waggle dance, showing others how to find these sites. The better the spot, the more they dance. Other bees, seeing the dance, go out to check out the spot, and bring back their report. Gradually by eliminating locations of less quality they choose one option and move in.
Sometimes groups depend on leaders or majority rule to make decisions without taking into consideration other perspectives in the group. Consensus provides another option for decision making which uses collaboration instead of competition. Notable aspects of consensus include:
• Consensus asks participation from each member, and is built on cooperation, respect for each member’s contribution, and disciplined speaking and listening.
• When stating levels of agreement to a proposal, consensus provides three to five options, 5 representing complete support, 3 stating the need for more information, 1 as blocking the process with 2 and 4 completing the spectrum.
• Consensus provides a time for discussion giving each person time to say why they placed themselves as they did. Groups discuss each concern then adapt the proposal to accommodate the concern, yet retain what excited others.
• In the event that a concern cannot be reconciled to other hopes for the proposal, the concern is recorded along with the decision made.
• Decisions are implemented when everyone, after discussion and adaptation, can at least live with the decision, placing themselves 3 or higher on the spectrum.
Consensus is not forcing all involved to think alike. Consensus provides a structure to hear the opinions of those involved, take the concerns into account before the decisions is made, and feed off of others excitement. This process does take considerably more time than voting or other decision making processes. However, when decisions are made quickly, those affected must be persuaded to buy in or the decision may never be carried out. Such persuasion takes time as well.
I want to share one more thing about bees. Since hives will kill unknown queens, bee keepers cautiously introduce them to the hive. To ensure the queens safety the keepers confine the queen in a small plastic cage with the only exit plugged with a hard candy. Gradually the queen works at the candy from one end and the worker bees from the other. When the candy is gone the queen emerges, now part of the hive. Discussing issues or working at problems as a group can be intimidating. However, people groups, as well as bee hives, build relationship through working together, and relationships strengthen the group. Consensus and other processes, like the plastic cage, provide structure and security for such difficult conversations to take place and, in turn, produce trust.

Sources:
Robert Krulwich, Nature's Secret: Why Honey Bees Are Better Politicians than Humans, on NPR's Morning Edition, http://www.npr.org/blogs/krulwich/2011/05/24/136391522/natures-secret-why-honey-bees-are-better-politicians-than-humans.

C.T. Butler and Amy Rothstein, On Conflict and Consensus: a handbook on Formal Consensus decisionmaking, Food Not Bombs Publishing, Portland, ME, 1991.

Breaking the cycle of violence

This month the death of one man splashed across headlines, dominated conversations, and provided stimulus for celebration across our country. You probably know that I am referring to the death of Osama Bin Laden, the “mastermind” of the most excruciatingly traumatic event in the lives of Americans in the twenty-first century. I read articles celebrating how justice has been served, and that now nearly ten years later we can move on. I wonder though, if choosing revenge will really enable us to put the past behind us. Peacebuilding theory and lessons from history teach us otherwise. Trauma is not to be disregarded, but revenge re-traumatizes, spinning us in the cycle of violence, and throwing us far away from the healing we seek.
Those who experience harm and trauma often harm others and themselves in turn. Through our own repressed pain and emotion we strike at others, feeding the cycle and plunging ourselves deeper into our unresolved trauma. Think of aggressors throughout history, often there is a story of pain behind their offenses. Hitler with a difficult childhood. The Virginia Tech shooter and his story of loneliness. The United States, after 9/11/2001, went to war and celebrated the killing of Osama Bin Laden. With trauma comes pain and a desire for revenge, however, we do have a choice, and choosing revenge does not lead us to the path of forgiveness and healing.

It takes commitment, time, and work to climb out of this cycle of violence. Choosing not to harm someone whose actions caused you pain takes strength, much more strength than seeking revenge and thus allowing the current of violence to suck you in. Perhaps this choice is what Jesus referred to when he asked his followers to turn the other cheek and love our enemies. If so Christ asks us to break the cycle of violence.
Revenge is one response to pain, but there are many many others. Stories of people’s alternative choices give us hope. Guidepost (May 2011) told the story of Jason Hotchkiss whose wife died in a car accident. Jason rejected the usual forms of punishment for the young driver who fell asleep at the wheel, choosing instead to ask for a path of service, interaction, and relationship building – a path to healing and forgiveness. NPR’s StoryCorps told a story of a woman who forgave the man who killed her son (May 20, 2011). They met during his last years in prison. He saw her pain, she saw his humanity. He says she is teaching him to forgive himself. They both say it is hard. They are next door neighbors now and the story ends with, “I love you son,” words spoken by a woman who probably thought she would never say them again.

Sources used:

Nancy Good, At the Fork in the Road: Trauma Healing, http://www.emu.edu/cjp/publications/beyond-september-11th/2001/at-the-fork-in-the-road/

Forgiving her Son’s Killer: ‘Not an Easy Thing,’ NPR’s StoryCorps http://www.npr.org/2011/05/20/136463363/forgiving-her-sons-killer-not-an-easy-thing

Jason Hotchkiss, The Road to Healing, Guideposts May, 2011.

The power of a drift wood stick

A class of preschoolers sits with something like wonder and awe in their eyes as they pass a small driftwood stick. They don’t really look at the stick, nor do they hit each other with it, or argue over whose turn it is to hold it. These four and five year old kids practice circle process and appear to love every minute of it. It seems that everyone enjoys the chance to tell their story and that is the power of the stick; it serves as a visual reminder of who has the floor.
Processes create a space where people feel respected and safe enough to share. Sometimes when trust has been broken, a process with guidelines and a facilitator can structure conversation where trust can be rebuilt. Other times processes like these can be used to draw voices into conversation that would otherwise remain silent. Of course, the preschool class uses a simplified version, but here are some ideas behind this way of talking and listening:

• Circle process uses a talking piece. For many generations Native Americans used this action of passing an object to signify whose turn it is to speak. As the preschoolers say, “if you have the talking piece, use your mouth; if you don’t have the talking piece, use your ears.”

• Each circle needs a keeper or facilitator. Since the talking piece provides structure in who speaks, the keepers’ role becomes to encourage an environment of safety, respect and vulnerability through managing the process. Circle process encourages this through guidelines set in place by the entire circle, as well as beginning and ending ritual. Facilitators may speak without a talking piece but only to monitor the process.

• Circles assume equality among their participants. Though members of the group may possess varying levels of education, wealth, or other forms of personal power; each member, including the facilitator, has equal opportunity to share from their experience though no one is forced to participate.

• Circle Process works to build relationships between people through the act of listening to each others’ stories. Such listening takes time, but it becomes a gift and a sign of respect.

• Circle process can provide a setting for consensus decision making. Circles emphasize relationship building; however decisions can be made in circles using the process of consensus. Consensus fits well with the values of circle process including strengthening ties through listening to each perspective.

Whether a child, young adult, parent, or grandparent, it seems sacred to be able to speak without interruption and listen without thinking about how to respond. Even busy four year old children sit for a while, holding power in the form of a drift wood stick, and enjoy the silence before telling their story and respectfully passing the stick on to the person beside them.

"What did you say?"

Any time we talk to each other we follow a cycle of communication. The speaker sends a message which the listener decodes; the listener then sends feedback which the speaker decodes. This cycle looks something like this:

This drawing of the process of communication seems to validate the ease with which misunderstandings happen. However, this drawing also shows that understanding increases when listeners provide feedback. We give feedback in numerous ways both verbal and nonverbal: opinions, feelings, advice, tone of voice, and body posture are all types of feedback. NVC suggests one specific type of feedback called paraphrasing.

Paraphrasing, also called reflecting back, works toward increased clarity. This tool is especially useful with emotionally charged language used in tense situations. Reflecting back what we hear helps us check our understanding. This kind of feedback also allows the speaker to hear how they were perceived, and clarify if necessary. This not only leads toward greater understanding for the listener, it can work to help the speaker become aware of feelings and needs as well as articulate them.

When reflecting back:
- First, give a distancing statement: “It sounds like…,” “Are you saying….” This takes the blame away from yourself; it is nothing about you or your actions but rather what you hear them say.
- Reframe what you hear into feelings, values, and needs: disappointment, importance of relationship, and need for companionship for example. Rather than parroting back the evaluations or opinions you hear, reframe them into feelings, needs, or values.
- Ask a question. People are very sensitive to sarcasm when they work to express themselves. Framing reflections as questions signifies that the listener wants to work toward understanding instead of turning the situation into a joke. Questions also allow for correction if the reflection was not what the speaker meant to say.

Example: A reflection to “You’re so lazy!” could sound like this: “Are you saying that you are disappointed because working together to get a job done is important to you?”

Sources:

Conflict Resolution Center of Montgomery County
Nonviolent Communication: A language of Life, Marshall Rosenberg
Practical Sills for Managing Interpersonal Conflict Manual, 2008, KIPCOR

Choosing how we hear

Has anyone ever yelled or cursed at you? Perhaps you’ve been blamed for something, left in the middle of a conversation, or experienced the “silent treatment?” Most likely we have all experienced behavior like this, and perhaps even behaved in similar ways. Some times we call actions like this “difficult,” “bad,” or “bullying.” Though no one can change the behavior of others, we each have the capability to change the way we perceive such negative interactions.
When someone directs negative language or emotionally charged messages at us we can choose the way we hear what they say. Marshall Rosenberg, author of Nonviolent Communication: a Language of Life writes that we have four options:
1. Blame ourselves
2. Blame others
Blaming comes about when we internalize the emotion, evaluations, or judgments we hear from the other. Blame comes as a reaction to what we perceive they think about us.
3. Empathize with our own feelings and needs
4. Empathize with others feelings and needs
In choosing to empathize rather than blame, we look at the message differently. Empathizing means laying aside our own evaluations and opinions for the moment in order to be fully present with the other and hear what they have to say.

Behind behaviors lie emotions and needs. Though perhaps not consciously, we tell each other what we need through our actions. Truly hearing people and choosing to empathize means listening for the feelings and needs behind the behavior we find offensive. If we choose to focus on the behavior that we perceive as difficult we will find a bully. If we choose to look for needs, feelings, and values behind the negative messages we hear we will begin to see a person making a request as they know how. When we see these needs and emotions we find our similarities and shared humanity.

Kathryn Jackson tells a story about a lion who bullied all of the other animals (Tawny Scrawny Lion). For obvious reasons the other animals didn’t feel safe, so they tried to talk things over with the lion from a great distance. The only reply he gave was that they were at fault for running away, if he didn’t have to run for his food he wouldn’t have to eat so much! Desperate for one peaceful day they sent a little rabbit over to “talk things over” with the lion. But the story takes an unexpected turn. When the rabbit came up close he saw all of the lions ribs. “You look much too scrawny to talk things over,…so how about supper at my house first?” the little rabbit asked. After a week of no casualties the big animals came to visit the rabbit. “Rabbit,’ they said. ‘O you wonderful rabbit! What in the world did you talk to the tawny, scrawny, hungry, terrible lion about?” The rabbit responded, “Oh, my goodness! We had such a good time with that nice, jolly lion that I guess we forgot to talk about anything at all!”

Nonviolent Communication

My siblings enjoy telling a story about one particular occasion when I became very angry with them. I was about four at the time and my childish vocabulary did not include the necessary language to express my frustration so I borrowed a line from The Berenstain Bears book, The Double Dare. “Sister was so angry she could hardly speak!” I sputtered with my hands on my hips. Of course, my choice of expression produced shouts of laughter; and does to this day. Emotion is something that everyone experiences, sometimes reacts to, and needs to express. Without learning tools to constructively tell someone what we are thinking and feeling, we fall back on patterns of behavior that can be unproductive and unhelpful. In our reactions our words can become unintentional weapons to others and ourselves while leading to miscommunications. There are numerous ways to learn healthy communication skills, one of which is nonviolent communication. This style of communication suggests many skills, including practicing a pattern that we can fall back on in times of high emotion and tension.
In his book Nonviolent Communication: a Language of Life Marshall Rosenberg explains a four-step template for confrontation which many have found helpful.
1. This pattern begins with an observation. An observation consists of a specific action or inaction. For example, “I noticed that you arrived thirty minutes later than we planned.” It is easy to put evaluations in place of a simple observation however people often feel defensive when confronted with what we think of their action rather than an observation of what we have experienced.
2. The next step involves stating the emotion experienced in the interaction. Though perhaps seen as simple, this step contains three important points: clear communication of our experience, self awareness of what we are feeling, and choosing to take responsibility for our emotions rather than placing blame. Rosenberg also makes the important observation that our language allows for words describing emotions and descriptors of evaluations to be interchangeable. “I feel angry when you text while I’m talking to you” states emotion while “I feel like you’re not listening to me” states evaluation.
3. The following step in nonviolent communication consists of the statement of unmet needs or values behind our emotion. For example, “Respect and connection are important to me.” These needs and values are often at the root of emotions experienced and the expression of them can provide insight for those involved in the conversation.
4. Finally, a specific request of what would help meet the need completes the template. A specific request could be, “Would you be willing to wait to text your friend until after we are finished talking?” Being explicit with requests creates clear communication, being aware of whether our requests are really demands raises awareness of our motives, and intentionally framing requests replaces passive aggressive behavior.
Perhaps you have heard the adage, “Sticks and stones will break my bones, but words will never hurt me.” This saying seems to be created out of wishful thinking. Words do hurt sometimes, and communication can be violent. Stopping physical violence makes up a large part of building peace. However, learning to use language intentionally to articulate ourselves, understand others, and build people up is peacebuilding too.