Living Gently in a Violent World

by Stanley Hauerwas & Jean Vanier
Review by Jordan Henricks

          While so much of the conversation surrounding violence in our world seems to be focused on war these days, in Living Gently in a Violent World, Jean Vanier and Stanley Hauerwas offer a unique perspective on violence situated a little bit closer to home. This book is the fruit of an allegiance formed between the founder of L’Arche communities and “America’s best theologian.” The question that brought these two individuals together was, “What does L’Arche have to say to the church?” and this question is the focal point this book (16). In other words, “What does a community committed to people with intellectual disabilities experiencing life with others that do not have the same struggles have to say to the Church today?” Vanier and Hauerwas seem to think that this type of community has a great deal to say to the Church, suggesting that L’Arche communities are a prophetic voice to which the Church should attentively listen.

          Vanier and Hauerwas compliment each other wonderfully in this convicting book about nonviolence and gentleness within the Church. Both individuals offer multiple essays about the role that L’Arche plays in the Church. Vanier offers a bit of background as to how L’Arche was formed before diving into the sea of gospel lessons and stories learned in the process of working with people who have differing intellectual abilities for much of his lifetime. Vanier writes that, in France, “within a few years there will be no more children with Down syndrome because they will all have been aborted” (69). He suggests that at the heart of the philosophy behind L’Arche is the desire to say to people, “I am glad you exist,” and to offer proof of this by celebrating life together with them (69). Vanier offers another story about a boy with different abilities who was taking his first Communion at church, and overheard his uncle comment about how it was sad that he didn’t understand the liturgy. Upon hearing his uncle, the boy responded to his mother with tears in his eyes, “Don’t worry, Mummy, Jesus love me as I am” (72). Friendship and the ability to trust that we are loved are at the core of the gospel message, and Vanier believes that this is the message that L’Arche has to offer to the Church. Hauerwas writes, “Jean believes that friendship is what L’Arche is about” (91). Vanier also suggests that the powerful, prophetic witness of L’Arche is that “Jesus came to create a body” and “to change a world in which those at the top have privilege, power, prestige and money while those at the bottom are useless” (74). L’Arche stands as a signal beacon, proclaiming “that it is possible to love each other” (75).

          Hauerwas seems to be challenged by Vanier’s life and the witness of L’Arche communities. He answers the question in focus as simply, “Just slow down” (45). This sums up the message that L’Arche has for the Church in Hauerwas’ opinion, just slow down. Hauerwas writes, “The understanding of time and place that L’Arche represents, which is a challenge to the speed and placelessness of modernity, helps us understand part of the problem we face as the church today” (51). In a world full of technology we are surrounded by the constant temptation to leave people behind, and Hauerwas suggests “that L’Arche is a prophetic sign of what the church needs to see if we are to avoid the world of speed and placelessness” (54). Hauerwas even goes as far as to remind readers that miners used to take canaries with them into the mines because canaries would die of exposure to methane gas faster than humans; and Hauerwas suggests that L’Arche is the Church’s canary (56). Hauerwas goes on to point out that this type of prophetic witness has serious political implications as well. He points out that how we view individuals with differing abilities affects how we view humanity and the political structures that are formed. Hauerwas writes, “The story that says we should have no story except the story we chose when we had no story is a lie. To be human is to learn that we don’t get to make up our lives because we’re creatures” (92-93). To be a creature is to be created, and as Hauerwas writes, “if we will listen, we can learn from Jean’s story how to receive the givenness of life without regret” (94).

          As Hauerwas told the story about the thirty-six inch snowstorm at Notre Dame that shut down the city and prevented the snow machines from moving the snow, I was reflecting on the days of my childhood when I was shoveling snow from the driveway. Hauerwas wrote that in the past, the students at Notre Dame would have shoveled the snow themselves, but during this particular snowstorm, hardly any shovels could be found because technology had progressed beyond the need to have snow shovels on hand. Hauerwas writes, “I remember thinking, When technology replaces community, you ain’t got community to fall back on when you’re in a crisis” (49). I often identify with Hauerwas thoughts concerning technology. At what cost are we making technological advancements and “paving the way for our future.”

          Although I often have the urge to return to a world where we would live much closer to the earth and the majority or our time would be taken up just finding and cooking food rather than many of the activities that we are engaged in today, I also have a profound respect for technology. However, I just wish we would ask the question, “Why? At what cost?” Vanier writes, “I get upset when people tell me, ‘You’re doing a good job.’ I’m not interested in doing a good job. I am interested in an ecclesial vision for community and in living in a gospel-based community with people with disabilities” (34-35). The question that I would pose is, what if this was what motivated technology as well? What if the reason we used a snow machine was because it contributed to “an ecclesial vision for community” and “a gospel-based community?” I think part of what it means to be a follower of Christ and to live a cruciform life is to abstain from participating in the usage of technology that does not contribute to this vision and community.

          The truth of the matter is that if we begin to adopt this view of what it means to “make progress” concerning technology, we will have no choice but to slow down. Hauerwas writes, “people who are the weakest and least presentable are indispensable to the church,” and asks us what it would mean to the Church if we really believed this truth (74, cf. 1 Cor. 12:22). The truth is, the Church would have no choice but to slow down, and would have no choice but to walk with all people, to include the marginalized of society. Within the world of athletics the saying goes, “you are only as good as your worst player.” Thus, in the world of athletics, the less skilled players are “cut” from the team so that the team can achieve success on the field of competition. Is that a good model for the Church? The answer is ‘no,’ and it is not just ‘no’ because that wouldn’t be the nice thing to do. Pope John Paul II wrote, “[The disabled person] can teach everyone about the love that saves us; they can become heralds of a new world, no longer dominated by force, violence, and aggression, but by love, solidarity, and acceptance” (39). The truth is, if the Church is to make “progress” towards an ecclesial vision for community and a gospel-based community, the Church needs the marginalized of society. L’Arche is a prophetic voice to the Church today because as Vanier and Hauerwas point out, these communities are such a powerful witness of the love of Christ. They are a powerful reminder of the goal we are pressing towards, and without them, the Church will be further from understanding that goal as a reality, and further from understanding what it means to live gently in a violent world.