If I wanted to be coy about it all, I could say that a string of losses in crucial playground fights sealed my fate, at least toward nonviolence. These memorable rumblings took place in the second or third grade, and again in early Junior High. While there is some truth to the power of such experiences, my vocational call to Peacemaking or Pacifism cannot hinge on these unforgettable and regrettable events alone. However, I cannot completely dismiss the potential of these lost fights to heighten my awareness at a very early age that violence of this sort had little or no appeal for me.
More sober reflection reminded me of my home life, growing up in Houston, Texas, from the dawning of the 60s through the moment I left for the college scene at Texas A&M University. While my siblings and I often took for granted a peaceful home, I now see that the context in which I received my formative development played a significant role about what a lifestyle of nonviolence looks like. Even growing up as the second oldest in a family maxed out with ten children, nonviolence characterized our relationships.
My parents lived as husband and wife until death parted them when my father died in 1977. By that time, I was married to a lovely woman and had two beautiful daughters. Certainly my parents had their disagreements, but violence, physical or otherwise, did not describe the nature of those encounters. We children, on the other hand, tended to be much more "violent" sometimes in our relations. When someone felt threatened or space breached, we frequently resorted to pushing and verbal sparring. Yet there was never a time when such violence, when known, went undisciplined or judged as merely childhood innocence in family life.
Further, growing up in the segregated South during the 60s, I lived in a society where overt racism prevailed in the relations between black and white. Skillfully directed at the core of our being were the weapons launched from the structures of oppression that daily surrounded us. Even now, I remember the numerous images of freedom marches and the impassioned speeches of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., which raised the consciousness of a nation and of a young black teenager. I felt at time, however, so distant from the images I saw on television, but I can never forget the power they had on my mind and on my life. From this I learned in a broader sense the truth that the fight for justice need not require violence to validate it.
Perhaps the most significant turning point came in 1976 upon my becoming a Christian-a disciple of Jesus. Even as a Christian novice, I embraced the belief that the call to discipleship meant an authentically transformed life. Like so many I knew, I must confess those times when my life fell below my highest confession. I cannot explain it to most people's satisfaction, but I just believed that to be a disciple of Jesus identified one both as a lover of God and a lover of others. I could not, then, treat another person any way I felt like, even if they proved to be my enemy. I did not always know the sacrifice entailed by such fundamental commitments of discipleship.
The path is completed when I went to Duke University to pursue my doctoral studies in Theology and Ethics. Up until this time, my understanding of the Christian faith tended more to the pietistic dimensions-just me and Jesus. I had not yet understood the power of Christian community in its most radical sense. From Stanley Hauerwas, I began a journey into the Christian life that embraced the gospel of Jesus as pacifist at its very core. From his lectures, writings, and friendship, I understood more the necessity of the church's being a certain kind of community. The church is called to be a foretaste of the new community-a community of peace. The church is to be, in its very life together and in the world, a compelling witness in a culture of violence.
I consider myself blessed to follow Jesus in his life of self-sacrifice. Among other things, it is a life that reminds us that our sisters and brothers are indispensable to our desire to be faithful to the Prince of Peace. I am thankful, therefore, to be associated with the Church of God Peace Fellowship, student peace organizations at Anderson University, and many persons who teach me, often without knowing, how to embody the lifestyle of God's Peace. I continue to be sharpened even by those who disagree with me and others about the nature of Jesus' life, death, and resurrection. In their own way, they compel us to think and act more faithfully by the sheer passion of their own commitments. Praise be to the Trinitarian God!
Dr. James W. Lewis, professor of Religion and Bible at Anderson University, and a minister at Sherman Street Church of God, chairs the COGPF. He and his wife Barbara have two daughters and one granddaughter. Dr. and Mrs. Lewis made a generous contribution to the AU Peacemaking Fund in memory of the late Dr. Samuel George Hines.