Is Silence Violence? Or, Knowing When (Not) to Shut Up [5 of 5]
Faithful Witness
Maybe the most curious thing about my critique of the slogan silence is violence is that I'm committed theologically to a little-a anabaptist ethics that is often labeled nonviolent. I might, then, logically favor a cultural movement that opposes the supposed violence of silence. In the preceding articles, I've attempted to problematize the oversimplification that the slogan peddles. In summary, silence is not necessarily violence. Christians should not be so obtuse. Speaking can participate in violence, and silence can resist it.
But more, nonviolence is a poor label for the Christian ethics I affirm. The deeper concern is peacemaking. So what does peacemaking mean in relation to the question at hand? The concept of martyrdom suggests an answer.
The Greek term marturia is usually rendered as testimony or witness in New Testament translations, and the Christian idiom rightly extends the notion of witness through the term martyrdom, witness that leads to death. I've highlighted three martyrs in the preceding posts: Justin, Bonhoeffer, and MLK. Though each exemplifies something distinctive about entering the fray, all demonstrate the essential truth that martyrdom is the final embodiment of witness.
On one hand, attending to the stories of martyrs highlights that witness is embodied. Witness is not just word but word and deed, speech and action, speech in action. It is life and death. On the other hand, the martyrs' stories teach us that witness is more powerful than silence, even the silence of the grave, because the martyr's life and death is itself the witness. Conversely, witness is more powerful than speaking out, even speaking the truth, because life and death say what words cannot.
Both of these lessons are important when we consider whether and how to enter the fray. Still, the connection between martyrdom and witness in the stories of Justin, Bonhoeffer, and MLK (and many others) teaches a more fundamental lesson: Christian martyrdom serves peace, as does every witness to Christ. As the Apostle Paul says, we are "always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be made visible in our bodies" (2 Cor 4:10). Christian witness is always only witness about the one who died for reconciliation.
Chants of "no justice, no peace" come to mind. They are compelling in one sense, but they bear little weight in the shadow of the cross. Weightier is the prophet's condemnation of religious leaders' injustice: "They have treated the wound of my people carelessly, saying, 'Peace, peace,' when there is no peace" (Jer 6:14; 8:11). So let me review what I've said about justice so far. (1) Truth gives rise to justice. (2) The prophetic word calls for justice. (3) Christian solidarity enacts justice. What, then, of the idea that Christian witness serves peace? It is certainly not as simplistic as the claim that justice precedes peace. How could it be in the face of Jesus's death? How could it be in the face of the martyrs who bore his death in their bodies? Nor can peace disregard justice. Christ embodies justice, and so should those who bear witness to his death.
Knowing when (not to) shut up is a matter of bearing faithful witness to Christ. I'm not moving the goalpost with this claim; adding faithful to the equation is not meant to obfuscate with one more definitional ambiguity. I mean, straightforwardly, the faithfulness of marturia to the death and resurrection of Christ through the prophetic embodiment of truth. Faithfulness does not mean speaking out, nor does it mean remaining silent. Instead, it means speaking when it bears witness and remaining silent when it bears witness. It means speaking truth that might remedy confusion. It means silence that refuses to increase confusion. It means speaking of God's justice in the face of violence. It means shutting up when speaking out is complicit in injustice. It means solidarity with those who cannot speak, sometimes by speaking for them and sometimes by sharing their weakness. Knowing when (not to) shut up is a matter of interpretive wisdom that, for Christians, cannot be replaced by a slogan.