Fresh Perspectives

Passing Down Peace as a Family Value
by Amanda Vaughan

My son, Jess, was three years old when he saw the newspaper on August 15, 1998, with a photo of a bombing in Omagh, Ireland. He asked me what happened. I had little choice but to explain the painful truth. This was Jess’ introduction to war. I stumbled through some explanation of violence fueling more violence. Jess understood the instinctive “he hit me first” rational for aggressive behavior. But he was incredulous that adults behaved this way. Something was lost in him at that moment, and his little brow was too furrowed for a three-year-old.

That one photo rocked his little world. His innocence and shock would be lost and replaced with the familiarity and numbness we all tend to take on. Jess fretted and wanted to know what we could do to help. All I could say is that we could pray for peace, and we did.

Four years later, our entire family, including Jess’ younger brothers, stood on a corner, silently, in downtown Auburn on the coldest day of the year, in a silent public peace vigil, urging our nation to slow the drumbeat toward war with Iraq. We were a small group of participants focused and serious as cars sped past, some honking and voicing opinions from car windows, most disagreeing with our message, some very angered by it.

The reporter approached Jess and asked if she could talk to him. I hesitantly said yes, but stood close, not wanting my seven-year-old to be put on the spot. She asked reasonable and responsible questions, and Jess answered without pause. I wasn’t sure what he would say. Jess started talking, and soon he was citing Gandhi, Jesus, and his current hero, Martin Luther King, Jr., saying that war kills people, rarely solves problems and often leads to more killing. He was speaking his own words, and he was as articulate and grounded as any adult who would speak that day on either side of the issue.

This year, Jess, now twelve, read the Gospel passage at a prayer vigil for peace at our parish in Auburn, speaking with a clear, strong voice that carried Jesus’ words across the silent, dimly lit nave. My three children were some of the only little ones there, but they are used to that by now. They know we will be there because we believe that our faith speaks clearly about war and peace, and that discipleship demands our witness, even though it may be unpopular. Now, that doesn’t mean, by any stretch, that my children don’t lean over and bop each other or hurl an insult in the heat of the moment. But they do understand we believe that Jesus calls us to something different.

Jess said he was very nervous about reading in church that night, but I don’t think anyone could tell. We talked about the Northern Ireland event from nine years earlier. It was hard for him to imagine that moment, when war was a new idea. He couldn’t recall feeling so worried about that bombing, so unnerved by it. He said, “Now,that’s just common. I mean, there is war on the news everyday. I just don’t notice it that much. It just seems normal.” I asked him how that realization felt.

All he said was, “Sad. Sad that it doesn’t even seem like a big deal anymore.” We talked about how important it is to participate in things like the peace vigil at our church, because it is one way of trying to stay aware—awake—even though numbness is easier and perhaps, more popular.
I can’t change how scary our world is or protect my sons from the violence they will come to know in their lives. But I can help them find ways to stand against it, ways to join the struggle and be part of the longing for the fulfillment of all creation.

Amanda and Walton Vaughan are members of Holy Trinity Episcopal Church in Auburn, Alabama. She works as a full-time home-school teacher for her three sons Jess – 12 years old, Andy – 9 years old, and Nathan – 6 years old. As their teacher, she continually searches for ways to engage her sons in issues of faith, politics and contemporary affairs.