When you think of images of power, what comes to mind: President Obama reviewing the predator drone
kill list with his first cup of coffee on a Monday morning, or senators fawning over
Jamie Dimon, despite his overseeing JP Morgan Chase’s 2 billion dollar loss on
risky investments? What does power look
like to you? To me, it looks like Karen
Ridd.
While volunteering for Peace Brigades International in 1989,
Karen Ridd and her friend, Marcella Rodriquez, were suddenly arrested by the
Guatemalan military. Falsely suspected
of affiliation with the guerrilla group FMLN, the women were bound, loaded on a
truck, and taken to a prison.
Fortunately, Karen, a Canadian national, was able to alert
the Canadian consul and another PBI volunteer of her danger prior to her
arrest. At first, her confidence that
PBI and her government would bring pressure for her release, and the civility
of the soldiers, brought her a measure of consolation. That soon changed when they arrived at the
prison.
Marcella overheard the soldiers describing them to their new
jailors as “terrorists from the Episcopal Church.” They were subjected to hours of
interrogation, blindfolded and tortured as they listened to the screams and
sobs of other detainees. Now, it was a
race against the clock to see if international pressure could save them in
time.
PBI did alert its worldwide network to their plight, and the
Canadian government quickly brought pressure to bear on the Guatemalan
government, hinting that their extensive trade relations could be compromised
if Karen was not released. No such
effort was made on behalf of Marcella, a Columbian national.
Within a few hours of the Canadian government’s
intervention, Karen found herself walking through the prison yard to a waiting
embassy official. But she couldn’t shake
from her mind the vision of her friend, Marcella, blindfolded and battered,
slumped against the prison wall, that she had witnessed when her own blindfold
was removed.
Glad as she was to be alive, something tugged at her. She made some excuses to the shocked and
exasperated Canadian diplomat, and walked back into the prison. Not knowing what she would do or how the
soldiers would respond, she informed them that she would not leave without her
friend.
The soldiers were as shocked as the diplomat. And they were angry. The immediately handcuffed her again. They informed Marcella, while banging her
head against the wall, that some “white bitch” was stupid enough to come back,
and now she’d see how terrorists should be treated.
Laughing, the soldiers asked Karen if she had come back for
more. She patiently explained to them
her devotion to her friends in words that they could understand. “You know what it is like to be separated
from a compañero,” she told them.
That got through to them. The
released the women, and Karen and Marcella walked out of the prison together,
hand in hand under the stars.
What was the source of the power Karen exercised over these
hardened killers? How was it that her
very vulnerability became the vehicle for exercising this power? Is this kind
of power available to you and me?
There is the power to control. There is the power to acquire. There is the power to heal. All three kinds of power are present in
Karen’s story. Notice how they operate.
The power to control works through coercion. It makes use of the capacity to threaten and
follow through on threats to get its way.
In Karen’s case, the soldiers exercise threat power: “You do what I want or I’ll do something you
don’t want!”
The power to acquire works through the medium of
exchange. It makes use of the carrot
instead of the stick. In Karen’s story,
the Canadian government uses trade relations as a form exchange power: “You give me something I want and I’ll give you
something you want.”
The power to heal works through vulnerability. It makes use of empathy and compassion to
foster integration. In Karen’s story,
her willingness to risk her life for her friend, while simultaneously
recognizing and appealing to the humanity of her captors, was an expression of
integrative power: “I will practice self-giving love, and together we will
become more fully human.”[1]
Threat power works only so long as the imbalance of force is
maintained, at the cost of trust and freedom.
We cannot control anyone or anything forever. The war in Afghanistan is a contemporary
example of this truth. Exchange power
works only so long as I have what you want and vice-versa, at the cost of
objectifying everything it touches. Everyone
and everything is not forever reducible to a commodity, as the reality of
global climate change reminds us.
Integrative power endures because it respects the dignity
and fundamental interconnectedness of life.
Agents of integrative power refuse to coerce or manipulate others. They do so even at the risk of their own
life, but never at the risk of their integrity. It is their vulnerability that allows the
power of love to flow through them as a healing force in the world.
This is beautifully illustrated in today’s Gospel story
(Mark 6:1-13). Jesus and his disciples are focused on their
mission of multidimensional healing: restoring bodily integrity (cure), freedom
from the domination of alienating desires (exorcism), and conscious awareness
of reality (repentance). Notice that
their power to heal is based entirely on trust.
There is a relational dimension of healing that requires mutual
vulnerability. In the absence of trust,
they can do no deed of power.
Jesus and his disciples do not heal people against their
will; in fact, they cannot, because to do so would violate the integrity of the
person that healing seeks to restore. It
would replace one form of domination with another. Acceptance of the real possibility of
“failure,” detachment from any particular outcome, is part and parcel of the
vulnerability they must accept as the means to exercise integrative power.
Notice too, that Jesus and his disciples freely offer
healing without expecting anything in return.
And yet, they travel light, entirely dependent upon the generosity of
others to sustain them on their journey.
They give themselves away freely, and trust that others will respond in
kind. Here again, there is a recognition
and acceptance of mutual vulnerability, and validation of their own humanity
and that of those with whom they serve.
To expect others to be simply the objects of their integrative power,
and not also its agents, would be to undermine the possibility of its authentic
exercise. To be fully human, completely
whole, is to exercise our gifts as well as humbly accept our need.
This is why Jesus and Karen Ridd are such iconic images of
power. The integrative power they
exercise calls upon the trust, compassion, and generosity even of their
enemies; it opens up the possibility for everyone to be more fully alive, for
everything to become more completely whole.
It is through their very vulnerability, their weakness as St. Paul put
it, that they become strong, capable of evoking the humanity of others as love
mirrors love.
It is in this context that we can understand St. Paul’s
joyful affirmation of the Lord’s word to him:
“My grace is sufficient for you, for
power is made perfect in weakness.” So,
I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, that the power of Christ may
dwell in me. Therefore I am content with
weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities for the sake of
Christ; for whenever I am weak, then I am strong. (2 Cor. 12:9-10)
When I am vulnerable, then the healing power of love,
integrative power, can flow through me.
Love risks everything in order to heal everything.
Jesus invites you today to make his power – the power of
love – perfect in your weakness. It’s really quite a relief, when you think
about it. No more need to pretend to be
anyone or anything other than you are. He doesn’t ask you to be anything else other
than human, vulnerable, open.
What risks are you being called to take today for the sake
of love? What is it in you, in your
life, in our world that only integrative power can heal? Will you exercise that power for nothing,
without regard for the outcome, in trust that love endures when threats are
exhausted and there is nothing left to leverage?
[1] The
story of Karen Ridd and the discussion of the three types of power are taken
from chapter two of Michael Nagler’s book, Is
There No Other Way?.
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