So on a related theme to my previous post, I think I have found the one place in which this language of violence I speak of seems not to be used.
Whereas in almost every sphere of life violent imagery seems to be common place, there is one area where, as far as possible, it seems to be studiously avoided ... when we're talking about actual violence.So wars are described as "conflicts" because it is a bit less scary, the bodies of the innocent dead are described as "collateral damage" because it doesn't sound too ghastly, and aggression is described as "security"; a word which used to mean safe but somehow doesn't any more.
Has any one seen an armed forces recruitment film recently? They are truly terrifying ... because they are not in the least bit terrifying. At no point do they seem to think it necessary to mention that you might get killed or seriously injured by the violent acts of others, nor that your soul will be scarred for the rest of your life by the violence you will perpetrate yourself.
They speak instead of adventure and excitement, of opportunities and education, of comradeship and personal development. And guess what: those are all things I approve of and values I espouse. They are things I think every person; including every young person who has had limited options thus far who are those primarily targeted by these insidious campaigns; should be able to access.
I'm just not sure that the military is the best placed institution to be providing them. No, hold on. I am sure. I am absolutely sure. I think they should be found in independent art projects: in theatre and dance and and creativity; I think they should be found in community activism and the service of one another; I think they should be found in a context of peace and hope.
Just as it is dangerous that we unthinkingly describe our everyday circumstances with the language of violence; it is equally dangerous when we fail to call out violence and aggression for what it really is. So let's call a spade, a spade. And a war, a war.
And then, named as such, let's choose to say no.
Monday, 10 October 2016
Thursday, 6 October 2016
A language of peace
It was a hymn we sung in church, a few weeks ago now, which reminded me I wanted to write a post on this subject ... although it is a theme I have considered writing about previously, but never quite got round to it.
I can't even exactly remember which hymn it was now, but it was one of those "onward Christian soldiers", "fight the good fight" type ones which always make me feel distinctly uncomfortable.
I know others will tell me these are not songs which condone violence, that they are simply using familiar, evocative imagery to explore spiritual themes which defy easy description.
That though, is precisely the problem.
As my involvement with the peace movement has become increasingly active, and as I have engaged with and reflected on what it means to be truly non-violent, I have become increasingly aware how unhelpful the language and imagery we use, often entirely subconsciously, can be.
I have long been uncomfortable with 'warfare' hymns and the constant rhetoric of the 'war on this that and the other' from government ministries and media outlets but the first time I remember being stopped in my tracks by something I said myself was when I described the Quakers as "punching above their weight"... and realised how entirely inapt the image was.
It was a wake up call to try and think more carefully about my choice of words and images, and to become aware of how often we fallback on images of violent conflict to explain or evoke a whole range of situations and experiences. We "fight" or "combat" the things we are against, take "a shot in the dark" when we just don't know or "give it a shot" when we think maybe we do.
Perhaps it is all entirely innocent and I shouldn't be concerned about the words we use without a second thought: but I don't think so. I believe in the power of language and I worry that by our constant exposure to the language of violence we reduce our sensitivity to what these things actually are and actually mean. Desensitised to the reality behind the images, our everyday language becomes one of many factors helping to perpetuate a culture of violence.
The language we use certainly helps shape the way we think; so I can't help wondering what would happen if we shifted our rhetoric to more peaceful images.
I am not pretending I have been entirely consistent in changing my language use since I first started to reflect on this idea After all, my starting premise was that often these language choices are so ingrained that we use them entirely sub-consciously. But I guess I have tried to be a little more conscious, at least some of the time, of the words I choose and the images I describe. It is one of the tiny steps I am trying to take towards the road of peace I want to walk.
Looks like I'll have to turn to other activities for my descriptive language ... so watch out for a language peppered with cricketing metaphors instead!
I can't even exactly remember which hymn it was now, but it was one of those "onward Christian soldiers", "fight the good fight" type ones which always make me feel distinctly uncomfortable.
I know others will tell me these are not songs which condone violence, that they are simply using familiar, evocative imagery to explore spiritual themes which defy easy description.
That though, is precisely the problem.
As my involvement with the peace movement has become increasingly active, and as I have engaged with and reflected on what it means to be truly non-violent, I have become increasingly aware how unhelpful the language and imagery we use, often entirely subconsciously, can be.
I have long been uncomfortable with 'warfare' hymns and the constant rhetoric of the 'war on this that and the other' from government ministries and media outlets but the first time I remember being stopped in my tracks by something I said myself was when I described the Quakers as "punching above their weight"... and realised how entirely inapt the image was.
It was a wake up call to try and think more carefully about my choice of words and images, and to become aware of how often we fallback on images of violent conflict to explain or evoke a whole range of situations and experiences. We "fight" or "combat" the things we are against, take "a shot in the dark" when we just don't know or "give it a shot" when we think maybe we do.
Perhaps it is all entirely innocent and I shouldn't be concerned about the words we use without a second thought: but I don't think so. I believe in the power of language and I worry that by our constant exposure to the language of violence we reduce our sensitivity to what these things actually are and actually mean. Desensitised to the reality behind the images, our everyday language becomes one of many factors helping to perpetuate a culture of violence.
The language we use certainly helps shape the way we think; so I can't help wondering what would happen if we shifted our rhetoric to more peaceful images.
I am not pretending I have been entirely consistent in changing my language use since I first started to reflect on this idea After all, my starting premise was that often these language choices are so ingrained that we use them entirely sub-consciously. But I guess I have tried to be a little more conscious, at least some of the time, of the words I choose and the images I describe. It is one of the tiny steps I am trying to take towards the road of peace I want to walk.
Looks like I'll have to turn to other activities for my descriptive language ... so watch out for a language peppered with cricketing metaphors instead!
Saturday, 1 October 2016
Hidden Treasure - Taize Birmingham 2017
Anyone who reads this blog can be in no doubt that I love Taize. It is a place from where I have drawn new life and which has helped shape the person I have become. It is, undoubtedly, what has led me to be where I am, living the life I am currently living.
I have come to love Birmingham too. Somewhat to my initial surprise, I guess, I have gradually discovered a deep affection for this place and the people who make it.
Unsurprisingly, I am VERY excited that next year, the two are going to collide when the Taize Community, together with the churches of Birmingham, hosts a young adult meeting here, in the city I call home.
The Hidden Treasure meeting will offer, I hope, a chance to give a whole new swathe of people a glimpse of a community of prayer which has been hugely important to me. It will offer, too, a chance to explore and celebrate some of this city's many hidden treasures of solidarity, small gestures of hope which aren't making headlines but are making a difference.
The Hidden Treasure meeting will offer, I hope, a chance to give a whole new swathe of people a glimpse of a community of prayer which has been hugely important to me. It will offer, too, a chance to explore and celebrate some of this city's many hidden treasures of solidarity, small gestures of hope which aren't making headlines but are making a difference.
I suspect there may be a small amount(!) of work involved in the intervening months between now and the end of April. I am convinced it will definitely be worth it.
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