Strength and Resilience: Holding On to Beauty in Troubled Times
Once again, domination is having its moment as the currency du jour. Power always matters, but how it is wielded matters even more. Nowadays, the headlines attest to a form of power that prizes domination at all costs. Safeguards designed to protect us from bad power are being dismantled and ignored. These are crazy times. What was so prophetic about folks like Ghandi, John Lewis, and Martin Luther King is that they all demonstrated how to use limited power in a way that made a limitless impact, all while staying true to their values. Theirs was a power under control, filtered through the values of human worth. Their power was secondary to the dignity, humanity, and even beloved nature of everyone—including their so-called enemies. In times like this, we need more prophets and elders like these to rise up.
For those of us who feel powerless to do anything about what we see, the question of how to respond hangs in the air. In a world with so much disruption, how do we remain resilient, available, and of use? Tuning out is tempting but will help no one. How can we remain sane and engaged? Empathetic and not overwhelmed? Attentive and not in despair? Alert and not panicked? How do we best serve the world?
To endure and serve, we need to be able to hold two contradictory things at the same time, one alongside the other. In the midst of suffering, we must hold on to the goodness and beauty of this world. Where there is horror, so there is grace. Both things can be true. Of course, our eyes naturally go to the broken, wounded, and tragic things of this world: the car accident, the heartbreaking news story—the weight of facts is everywhere. However, if this is all we focus on, we have no hope.
There are thankfully, many proactive things we can do—things we must do—to keep ourselves grounded. For example, we can cultivate a sense of awe and wonder. It’s essential medicine these days, and some even say it is the essence of prayer and worship. We can practice gratitude, which isn’t dispensable, but fuels the capacity for healthy resistance and opens the eyes to the blessings of life. Choosing to be bedazzled by beauty is not an optional recreation, but a core spiritual practice. We can’t underestimate the formative power of beauty. Some people say it could save the earth.
These postures were immortalized for me in Binh Nguyen, a Vietnamese brother who was a guest speaker for a class I had in grad school. Binh became a political prisoner of the Vietcong during the war and was thrown in the hole, a pitch black room with no toilet, no water, not enough room to stretch out and lie down, no human contact—it was hell on earth. When the guards would open the cell door, Binh had the habit of smiling at them, which usually resulted in an immediate beating. One day the guards finally asked Binh why he always smiled at them. I’ll never forget Binh’s answer.
“I have no water to drink or food to eat. When you open the door, you are usually bringing me the sustenance my body needs to survive. I anticipate your provision, am grateful, and I smile.”
“My cell stinks of feces and dank air. When you open the door, fresh air flows in. I breathe it in, am grateful, and I smile.”
“My cell is dark at all hours. When you open the door, light comes in and I can see. For this I’m grateful, and I smile.”
“I’m alone with no contact all the time, but you carry the image of God. When you open the door, I see another of God’s beloveds, I’m not alone. For seeing the face of God, I’m grateful, and I smile.”
Over the years he was in the prison, the guards grew more amazed at Binh’s spirit, not only did they stop beating him, they began caring for him. In time, they sought his council and viewed him as their spiritual teacher and they his disciples. As a result the entire prison was impacted. When he was released, all the guards wept. Binh now lives in Seattle and, as my professor said, is a living saint.
Richard’s genius in naming the Center for Action and Contemplation was combining two things that are too often separated. As he says, the most important word in the title is “and.” Activists who aren’t grounded will burn out and devolve into cynicism, and anyone who is a true contemplative will find its true flowering in action in the world. So let’s take a page from Binh, from Gandhi, from MLK, from Jesus, from the many many other men and women who have shown us how to walk in beauty and strength in times such as these. For what else have we been practicing?