To celebrate the publication of the second volume of The Peaceable Kingdom series (A Faith Embracing All Creatures), for the next few weeks I’ll be randomly posting on animals, Christianity, and why, three times a day, most of my nonviolent friends live lives that are the absolute antithesis of nonviolence.
Ya’ flesh-eating, ‘bodies consuming other bodies’ bastards.
Hey, I understand. It’s easy to be a Christian nonviolent “practitioner” (pfft–yup, I just ‘pffted’ you). It rarely demands anything. But trying being nonviolent to other-than-human bodies and it becomes immediately apparent that much of your existence is predicated on violence. And I mean violent violence. Nasty, systematic, brutal, horrifying, ‘hidden from your face because some people think you could have a conscience’ kind of violence. Your lifestyle is is not indirectly related to unadulterated brutality–it is directly related to it. There’s no ‘six degrees to complicity’ here. It’s all on you. So, forgive me if I don’t take your “eschatological nonviolent witness” too seriously.
I know the rest of creation doesn’t.
Aw, crap. I meant this little post to be funny, not pissy (‘funny’ helps to sell books). My bad, hold on, let me fix it . . . wait a second . . . wait a second . . .
Seriously though, that’s a good question. Why am I so romantic? Is it just in my nature? Is it genetic? Something to do with altruism and the ladies? Or, is it just hard work?
It’s a mystery.