As a Franciscan, I often claim the mantel of “pacifist” as part of the package. And I am wondering if that is simply a convenient euphemism for “scared to fight”. I am thinking back throughout my whole life; grade school, high school, college, and adulthood. I have gotten into relatively few fights. Which is not to say I haven’t been beaten up; that was the result on most occasions where actual physical violence wound up taking place.
There was one time in grade school where I saw red during a fight; the other boy was choking at me (I mean REALLY choking me) and I went full-out hulk on him when I got free. I think that incident frightened me; I don’t remember the fight after that. He was choking me, I couldn’t breathe, and I felt my soul ROAR in anger. The next thing I knew the kid was on the ground, begging me to stop.
All other times, I either backed away, ran away, or endured subtle or not-so-subtle bullying for whatever period of time I had to endure it.
My tendency, even in simple verbal arguments, is to attempt to see the other’s point of view, even to the extent of conceding the point, in order to avoid confrontation. I am afraid of violence, real or perceived. I am afraid of pain, both the receiving and the taking.
Does this make me smart, in the spirit of self-preservation? Or does this make me a coward, unwilling to take a stand on what I believe in to avoid temporary discomfort? Or is it both?
I don’t know. But I ought to examine this in more detail
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