The Legacy of A.J. Muste According to His Grandson

In March 2023, Hope College hosted an interdisciplinary conference on the life, work, and legacy of Hope graduate A.J. Muste (1905). One of the speakers was Peter Muste, A.J. Muste’s grandson, who gave a talk titled, “A.J. Muste and ‘Gandhian’ Nonviolence in a Modern Context.” It was an insightful lecture on how A.J. Muste would approach injustice in the world today, as well as what individuals can do today to bring about peace through positive change.

In approaching this topic, Peter Muste also noted his unique perspective on A.J. Muste, explaining that he, compared to most of the audience composed of Muste scholars and students of Muste’s work, perhaps knew less about A.J.’s role as a public figure and activist, having understood him more as a grandfather and mentor. So, he encouraged the audience to view his reflections through the lens of that role and as a personal reflection or meditation. But, as a former board chair for the A.J. Muste Foundation for Peace and Justice, he provided sage insights into A.J. Muste’s legacy and how it speaks to current nonviolent paths to justice, truth, and freedom.

As students, we sometimes struggle with knowing how to enter into complex conversations related to peace and justice issues. Peter Muste helpfully offered four clear recommendations on where to begin: 1) understand the economic components of injustice and conflict within our world, 2) do not underestimate the power of coalitions and grassroots movements within nonviolent spheres of protest, 3) reconnect with the working class, as they are the key to major changes within the political and social arenas, and 4) always try to maintain collaborative dialogue with those who oppose you in order to ensure human dignity and respect.

Building on this framework, Peter Muste set the tone for the rest of his talk by quoting his late grandfather, who once said: “If I can’t love Hitler, I cannot love at all.” This controversial phrase encapsulated the radical path of nonviolence and pacifism that A.J. Muste followed. In the current political climate, Peter Muste offered this statement and its significance as something activists who are trying to change in the world today need to consider in their work, especially in terms of how it can shape our understanding of and position towards those we might consider “others.” In the era of polarization and partisanship that the United States continues to sink deeper into, he suggested that there are critical issues that can unite pacifists and nonviolent activists and help them learn to communicate effectively and empathize with those on the right. The modern world faces challenges with peaceful activism, he said, because we often lose sight of creating democratic spaces where all can speak their mind. Peter Muste stressed that in order to honor A.J. Muste’s efforts we must remember to respect intricacies and interconnectedness of different issues in order to promote justice for all.

He specifically discussed how this pertains to the labor movement. He pointed out that politicians on the right often use fear and distraction as tactics to keep working class people from realizing that their institutions are not properly serving them. He also noted that pacifists and those on the left frequently undermine their arguments and potential for garnering wider support by failing to empathize with the fear that drives much of the larger resistance to change. In light of this, he focused his on a call to unity across partisan divides, reminiscent of his grandfather’s attempts to unite the left and synthesize efforts between communists and democratic socialists. He asserted, following his grandfather, that affirming the inherent dignity and humanity of all people requires recognition — even of those who perpetuate injustice. Furthermore, Peter Muste affirmed that the only path forward is one in which pacifists engage those whom we have deemed the “other.” 

One thing that we have learned about A.J. Muste was how he valued collaboration.

After the event, we asked Peter Muste and his brother, who was also in attendance: How are young adults in this world supposed to use nonviolence to fight the many social, political, and economic challenges when there is no true “Gandhian” leader to show us the way? And how are we supposed to create meaningful connections and dialogue with those who think and believe differently than us when we have grown up in a deeply polarized society? 

Their response was simple and had two major components. The first was that we have to understand the difference between leaders and leadership, realizing that we must be able to create our own groups and solutions when there is a leadership void. The second was that we must value creativity in our solutions, flexibility in our opinions and actions, and stay committed to the practice of nonviolence and peace.

One thing that we have learned about A.J. Muste was how he valued collaboration. In fact, he would often intentionally choose to work with those with differing opinions or objectives. By listening to and learning from others, groups and movements that seem fundamentally opposed at first glance could find common ground and work together. When we asked Peter Muste about the potential for having conversations with those who view their differences as issues of fundamental morality rather than opposing perspectives, he explained that it starts with building common ground — a foundation of shared interests that humanize each other. He added that it is from these relationships that productive conversation can begin to have a real impact. 

So, we see Peter Muste’s interpretation of his grandfather’s legacy as critical. Public conversations on divisive topics often happen within frameworks that convince people on various sides that the other side is evil and immoral and thus not able to be understood, reckoned with, convinced of another perspective, or even acknowledged. But the pursuit of justice requires those from the opposing sides of many issues to engage not as enemies but following A.J. Muste’s example of interacting with one another as whole people with complex perspectives. For Muste, the activist’s role in this is to actively participate in nonviolence and to strategize and organize accordingly.

Avery Rant is a sophomore at Hope College and is a Sociology and Social Work major with a Peace and Justice minor. 

Cassie Morse is a junior at Hope College studying Psychology and minoring in Peace & Justice. She is passionate about the intersection of personal growth and the societal/systemic issues that can both complicate and aid in this quest.

Read Peter Muste’s talk, “Applying A.J. Muste’s Ideas on Social Change in a Modern Context,” as published by the A.J. Muste Foundation for Peace + Justice.

A.J. Muste: Peacemaker, Prophet, Pragmatist

I wondered why I had never heard of him before.

It was 1967. I had graduated from Hope College but was still getting The Anchor, so I was surprised when the issue for February 24 featured a eulogy for the recently deceased Rev. A. J. Muste by Dr. D. Ivan Dykstra, Hope’s august professor of philosophy. The Dutch-born Muste, I learned, was a Hope alumnus, Class of 1905, who it seemed had been a world-renowned pacifist; only a month before his death he traveled to Vietnam to protest a war he insisted he “could not reconcile with the Sermon on the Mount.” A memorial address by Hope’s President Calvin Vander Werf praised Muste as one whose calling “was to serve the Prince of Peace.”

So why had I never heard of him?

As it turned out, the reason was obvious. Frustrated by what he saw as his church’s complacent indifference to the poor, he had briefly allied himself with Marxist-Leninism, going so far as to meet with the Russian radical Leon Trotsky. It did not take Muste long to see through to the fallacies of Communism and the potential violence in Trotsky’s character, and in 1936, in the Church of St. Sulpice in Paris, he experienced an almost mystical return to Christianity. “Without the slightest premonition of what was going to happen, I was saying to myself, ‘This is where you belong’: and ‘belong’ again, in spirit, to the Church of Christ I did from that moment on.” But his alma mater and the church of his baptism had a long memory, and despite his radiant witness to the love of Jesus he was looked at with suspicion.

A bust of A.J. Muste in the Hope College Library by Dr. Ryan Dodde (’89)

Muste might have remained in the shadows of Hope’s history had it not been for the efforts of another saint, the late Professor Donald Cronkite, who in 1985, the hundredth anniversary of Muste’s birth, endowed an annual lecture in his honor. “I’m grateful for Muste,” Don acknowledged, “for the times I have stood on my principles because people like him have shown it could be done.” So, I was honored when, many years later, I was asked to chair the Muste Memorial Lecture committee.

Serendipity. One summer day — the actual year escapes me — someone in Hope’s Advancement office asked me to meet Mary Neznek, a Hope alumna with her own admirable record of devotion to the cause of peace and justice. Mary suggested that we invite as a future lecturer a man named David McReynolds, a veteran of the War Resisters League who had worked closely with Muste for many years. When I expressed concern about Mr. McReynolds’s age, she proposed that we might send someone to videotape his memories.

I immediately telephoned my former colleague Dr. David Schock. David had an impressive record as a maker of documentaries, including six on unsolved homicides in Michigan. As I expected, David took the bait: when we met at a local coffee shop to discuss the project he had already collected and studied the available books on Muste and gotten in touch with McReynolds. Mr. McReynolds agreed to meet us in New York, but he recommended that we first visit a man named Brad Lyttle, another long-time associate of Muste, who was then living in Chicago.

This was the start of what turned out to be a whirlwind odyssey of unforgettable encounters, as one after another of Muste’s living friends and co-workers joined our list of subjects. Mr. Lyttle in his cluttered home near the University of Chicago came first, an elderly man whose face grew radiant with enthusiasm as he recalled his work with Muste’s memorable projects: the Polaris Action anti-nuclear protest, the confrontation at the Mead Airforce Base, where seventy-five-year-old Muste climbed over the fence into the grounds, the San Francisco to Moscow Walk for Peace, the Quebec-Guantanamo Peace Walk, the Sahara Project.

David and I then boarded a plane and interviewed Mr. McReynolds—another cluttered apartment, this one presided over by his imperious cat, Shaman—and from thence flew to California to meet Muste’s last secretary, a delightful little lady with tattooed eyelids and an infectious laugh.

Back in Michigan, our meeting, over coffee, with the Rev. Art Van Eck and Muste’s niece Dorothy Vander Klipp. And of course the unforgettable afternoon with Muste’s grandson Peter Muste, who spoke with manifest emotion about his grandfather. The fruit of these adventures was David’s exceptional production of four full-length documentaries, Radical for Peace, available free of charge (what would A.J. Muste want, we asked ourselves). Without for these, much of Muste’s legacy would have been lost.

So, what was next? If I remember right, it was David who first came up with the idea of a conference here at Hope, and I will be eternally grateful that he talked me into it. With the help of my two colleagues Curtis Gruenler and Steve Bouma-Prediger, “A. J. Muste: Peacemaker, Prophet, Pragmatist” took place at the Haworth Hotel on Hope’s campus from March 21-23; it featured addresses by Peter Muste, Muste’s biographers JoAnn Robinson and Leilah Danielson, and the Executive Director and Chairperson of the A. J. Muste Foundation for Peace and Justice in New York. The dubious portrayal of Muste (“pale and patrician”) in the recent film Rustin was confronted by Danielson and Martha Reineke of the University of Northern Iowa.

We were also privileged to mount a session on African pacifists by Hope May of Central Michigan University and Keith Snedegar of Utah Valley University. And what might A. J. concern himself with now? Filmmaker Joshua Vis, the Rev. Chris De Blaay, Mary Neznek, and the Rev. John Kleinheksel were on hand to analyze the current crisis in Israel-Palestine. We heard an illuminating presentation by former Hope faculty member Timothy Pennings on Muste’s contemporary and fellow pacifist Bertrand Russell; Curtis Gruenler contemplated Muste’s ideal of friendship. And the wonders of Zoom let us hear from Ariel Gold of the Fellowship of Reconciliation and Dick Flacks, a founding member of the legendary Students for a Democratic Society.

But by far the most moving contribution came from Brad Lyttle. Now ninety-seven and nearly blind, Brad was transported to Holland by a loving caregiver, Ted Alexander, and spoke from memory of the years he had spent working closely with Muste as his right-hand collaborator and, indeed, disciple.

All in all, the conference will stand in my memory as one of the blessed events in my career at Hope College. Never have I participated in an academic meeting so manifestly inspired by, if I may say so, mutual love. I am thankful to David Schock for jumpstarting the whole thing; to Steve and Curtis for helping to float it; to Roger Baumann for his encouragement.

And yet Muste’s name remains unknown to many Hope faculty and students. And, indeed, to the general public.

Abraham Johannes Muste was probably the nearest to a holy man that Hope College has ever produced. I am grateful that our conference did its part to contribute to his legend.

Goed gedaan, goede en trouwe dienaar.

Well done, good and faithful servant. Enter into the joy of thy Lord.

Dr. Kathleen Verduin is Professor of English at Hope College and Chair of the A.J. Muste Memorial Lecture Series Committee.

Read more about A.J. Muse in Verduin’s essay “Who was A.J. Muste?”, published in the Spring 2024 issue of News from Hope College.

Courageous Conversations

When thinking about doing work involving diversity, equity, and inclusion, one thinks about looking around your environment and at various dynamics — from class, history, and more — within yourself. Doing this type of work is a lot when you are the only Filipino international college student navigating through the lenses of America and also recognizing the complexities and nuances.

With the rise of Asian-American hate within the United States and the insurrection at the Capitol on January 6th during the time of the pandemic, my current worldview immediately changed as I became part of a history and a society I am mostly new to. Being presented with these events, I recognized the tolls and stories that can make you feel a certain way. As an aspiring scientist, it was very unusual for me. As such, the idea of picking the Peace and Justice minor at Hope College was no doubt a decision I never regretted while focusing on the stories on diversity, equity, and inclusion.

Being the only Filipino international student on campus, I was confused about how to proceed on such issues and then came along an opportunity from Ms. Ada Rios, who is a colleague I worked with on DEI and racial inclusion work at Hope. The opportunity came via the Courageous Conversations Global Foundation (CCGF). CCGF focuses on work that elevates the mission of racial consciousness through interracial healing. The foundation believes that uniting people of all races can help engage in authentic, sustained, and compelling interracial dialogue while creating safe spaces for learning, solidarity, and transformation to occur. If we are to eradicate racism, this is the hard work that must be done.

As I was applying for the program, I was very hesitant and knew the struggles and hurdles I would go through as an international student — from funding to even being allowed to participate in such a program given my status. I also saw delving into such racial equity and DEI work to be very different from what I did as a scientist, yet I was accepted and was elated to start the program. Despite all of these feelings, I read a quote from one of the founders of CCGF, Glenn Singleton, in his book, Courageous Conversations About Race: A Field Guide for Achieving Equity in Schools. The quote helped me embrace this work to the fullest:

“I Dream I am from a clash of Color, From an idea of love, modeled for others’ perception. I see me as I am, but am hidden from others’ views. I am who I am, but a living contradiction to my peers. I see life as a blessing, a gift granted to me. Why should my tint describe me? Why should my culture degrade me? Why should the ignorance of another conjure my presence? Too many times I’ve been disappointed by the looks, By the sneers and misconceptions of the people who don’t get me, Who don’t understand why it hurts. I dream of a place of glory and freedom, Of losing the weight of oppression on my back. I dream of the enlightenment of people, Of the opening of their eyes. I dream for acceptance, And for the blessing of feeling special just once. One moment of glory . . . for the true virtue in my life. For the glimmer of freedom, and a rise in real pride.”

— Glenn E. Singleton, Courageous Conversations About Race: A Field Guide for Achieving Equity in Schools

Being part of the CCGF’s Equity Leadership Fellows from 2021 to 2024 has impacted me by helping me realize that I have a uniqueness in me that I shouldn’t hide. Instead, I should be proud of my identity and upbringing.

Through the program, my colleagues and I received scholarships to conduct race-focused conversations on Hope College’s campus, embracing the training we have received. That training focused on how to lead and facilitate such conversations about race and racial identity, 1) recognizing that each person’s story is unique, 2) emphasizing the importance of having intention, and 3) showing concern for those around us.

I will admit that leading our first CCGF event at Hope with Ms. Rios — called “Rhythmic Stories” — was a nerve-wracking experience. But I wanted to further deepen my understanding of DEI through a racial and reconciliation perspectives. At this event, we focused on looking at race through the lens of music. Similarly, we also approached the topic of race through the lens of art the following year, in an event called “Hey Hope, let’s talk about race,” where we looked at various forms of art and how these contextualize the idea of race at Hope College. These events were collaborations with Hope College’s Center of Diversity and Inclusion, alongside the involvement of various multicultural student organizations at Hope College including the Asian Student Union (ASU), Black Student Union (BSU), Latino Student Organization (LSO), and Pan-African Student Organization (PASA).

As I held this conversation, I noticed the immediate shift within our target audience, while also recognizing how I had started to become more comfortable facilitating such conversations. For instance, our first year had participants from various identities and ethnicities, yet our second year had more of a predominantly white audience. Though my colleagues and I started to question this, I think that this is a unique part of racial equity work and DEI work. The space challenged me to see how the world is — not just being a colored Asian on Hope College’s campus — but looking intently and listening deeply to other people’s stories. This was a testament to the collaborative effort and progress of this work.

This experience reminded me of my Peace and Justice May Term class in Scotland, Northern Ireland, and Ireland during the Celtic May Term, where I interviewed people to answer my research question:

“How do our experiences of peace, justice, and trauma affect our mental health”

When I listened to people from the Corrymeela Community in Northern Ireland, who talk about the idea of reconciliation, and to people’s stories about “the Troubles” and the divide between Catholics and Protestants, the idea of uniting all of these stories together gives a sense of unity of purpose in further recognizing these issues at hand and focusing on coming together as people to talk about it.

Conversation Partners in Scotland

It was not easy speaking to a predominantly white audience anywhere given my upbringing, yet these experiences taught me that the work I do is worth the voices of many who need to be heard. As I facilitated my last CCGF event at Hope College — with Ms. Rios and sophomore Mr. Marco Lopez-Vargas — we thought of the theme for this year to be “Race as a ____ experience.” We asked all the MSOs to fill in this prompt and we listened to their takes on this topic.

We also used CCGF’s promotional materials in partnership with another organization called Not a Gun to focus our conversations around how whiteness affects racial minorities at Hope College. Through the mentorship of Dr. Elizabeth Sharda, we held such amazing conversations on how Asian-Americans feel a sense of isolation and recognition within the United States, how African communities lack important tools for accessible education, and even our individual stories as facilitators of the conversation on how we feel about this statement. Throughout the event, we recognized that the smaller audience made the conversation and the facilitation more personal and understandable as each person in the space resonated more with the stories and their nuances in relationship with the theme. 

Dr. Sharda and the Courageous Conversations Leaders

Throughout my time at Hope College, the idea of peace and justice merged with this idea of DEI and has challenged me to appreciate my unique identity as a Filipino more. Participating in these Courageous Conversations has elevated this experience further. As I pursue graduate studies, I will continue to hold these lessons and experiences in my heart and continue to be passionate about them, not just as a Filipino scientist, but as a human being. We still have a lot of work to do, but I know that staying curious, being patient, and smiling along the journey goes a long way in this challenging yet fruitful work.

“Nobody else can do the job here, anymore than we can do the job somewhere else”

-A.J. Muste

Jairus Meer (’24)

Jairus Meer graduated from Hope College this spring with a degree in biology and peace and justice studies. Jairus was inspired by his mother when he decided to add a Peace and Justice minor to his studies at Hope. Originally from Las Piñas, Philippines, Jairus looks up to his mother. “Her interests and advocacy of justice and politics back in the Philippines inspired me to pursue my interest in peace and justice studies,” he says. Jairus plans to pursue a Ph.D. in microbiology and genetics, while continuing to work as a diversity, equity, and inclusion advocate.

The Global and Local Impacts of Human Trafficking

On January 29th, the Hope College Social Work department hosted an anti-trafficking awareness lecture led by Heather McGannon from Michigan Abolition Project (MAP) and Leslie King, the CEO and founder of Sacred Beginnings and a trafficking survivor. Both women championed educating society about the extremity of human trafficking, engaging with the community about social deficits and eradicating human trafficking through support, justice, and healing.

In the halo of the stage lights, Heather McGannon quickly stilled the room with a single question: “When you think of human trafficking, what do you think of?” She began listing examples of what many of us were thinking about—perhaps movies such as Taken or maybe the most harrowing of cases we’ve seen on the news. To the tune of our pensive musings, Heather proceeded to explain that most cases of human trafficking do not look like the previously mentioned examples but are terrifyingly subtle. “It is happening right here,” she explained, “in the United States of America, here in Holland, Michigan.”

So, what are the numbers? Globally, Heather explained, there are approximately 28 million trafficked humans—that is 1/150 people (and this is probably a drastic underestimate, as it is hard to quantify the exact numbers). Of that nearly 30 million, 22 million are for labor, and 6 million are for commercial sex exploitation. These numbers have human trafficking profiting 150 billion dollars, making it the third largest illegal institution.

“Trafficking is all about power and control.”

– Heather McGannon

Heather explained that these numbers can be explained by one thing—demand. In a world with undesirable jobs and dangerous environments, individuals fall victim to a manipulative system that has failed them. “Trafficking is all about power and control,” she explained, articulating how the pornography and sex industry is partially to blame. The second reason human trafficking is flourishing in our backyards? Increased demands for cheap goods. You read that correctly—that’s us. Chocolate, coffee, the minerals in our makeup, the sugar in our cupcakes, the things we eat, the clothes we wear. As Heather said, if we want this epidemic to end, we must reevaluate our part of the supply-and-demand equation.

Throughout her presentation, Heather emphasized the fact that human trafficking is a silent beast in the shadows. It targets its victims, establishes trust, and fills the needs that people hunger for when the system has failed them. Then, they are isolated, abused, and controlled. Traffickers feed into the narrative that their victims are all alone, that the world has rejected them. It is not a crime that happens in an instant or can be easily seen in a room. Heather explained, “Often, we see the physical chains… but really, it’s the psychological chains.”

As Heather handed the spotlight over to Leslie King, the room darkened and her introductory video began. The story of her life – from her childhood to her days as a CEO – played out on the screen.

Trailer for Some Angels Fight

As Leslie King’s story captured in Some Angels Fight faded to a close, she strode to center stage. “Hi everybody” — King’s powerfully chipper voice pierced the haze of grief, shock, and awe — “I’m Leslie.” Leslie chuckled along with the awkward laughter that then reverberated around the room.

With her powerful presence and her palpable passion, Leslie described the many devastating effects of human trafficking. “Once they get the mind, the body follows,” She explained, detailing the physical, mental, social, and spiritual wounds that many victims experience preceding and following their escape—“my nights and days were backward… my life, period, was backward… all we know is survival.” Leslie paced the stage as she described the harrowing fear, distrust, and pain accompanying survival. When asked how she copes with the pervasive mental health issues, she proclaimed, “I refuse to be controlled by anyone or anything ever again.”

Leslie explained that there is a lack of recognition of the journey of healing that survivors go through once they get out of the bondage of trafficking. Throughout her speech, Leslie described the physical, mental, and emotional effects of trafficking that follow a survivor for the rest of their life. Building off Heather’s educational presentation, Leslie’s stories emphasized that modern-day slavery is a malicious cycle that exploits and depends on the consumerism of everyone. In addition, Leslie underscored that social workers are involved in a broken system and that empowerment and self-efficacy are key to a survivor’s healing.

That is just what Leslie did – she survived and became what she likes to call a “renegade social worker.” But the journey there was arduous. “When we leave our traffickers,” she began, “we don’t know what to do… we’re lost [so we go back to what we know].” Often, survivors find that they escape to a world that no longer supplies the scaffolding they need—“we can’t get a job because of our criminal history… we were made to do things… we did what we had to do.” Last year, Leslie King became the first and only trafficked survivor in Michigan to receive an inaugural pardon—“I didn’t know what it meant to be free… my life was a cage.”

Leslie King now returns to the streets to rescue and support other individuals who share her story. She encouraged social workers to work outside of the textbook and truly listen to their clients—one’s personhood extends past the clinical standpoint.

When asked how people like the students at Hope College could help, Leslie responded – “You can’t help us if you don’t know anything about us.” The media paints a picture of human trafficking that can make it easy for people to neglect the pervasiveness of the issue. Many people believe that it is an international issue. However, Leslie passionately explained that she returns to Holland, Michigan, roughly two to three times per month due to the trafficking occurring here. 

Leslie depicted human trafficking as the byproduct of the breakdown of the community. To heal that fracturing, caregivers and community members can become involved in a myriad of ways. Supporting homeless populations, championing justice, and fighting for equity in resources can all be protective factors that prevent human trafficking. Functionally, being mindful of one’s consumer footprint and shopping fair trade can help decrease the effects of human trafficking and forced labor on a macro or global level.

Overall, Leslie embodied strength, boldness, and resilience while also showing her deep love and passion for all people to live free of abuse and exploitation. She connected with the audience tangibly and authentically. She invited her listeners to deeply connect with her story and with the stories of the millions of people entrapped in the abhorrent cycle of trafficking, abuse, and human exploitation.

At the close of the event, attendees made their way toward the stage to purchase King’s biography and linger a moment longer in the hope of absorbing even more of her wisdom. As the final sounds of chatter and footsteps left the auditorium, taking deep breaths, silent tears, and deep gratitude with them, seven words lingered on the black screen overhead: Leslie has saved over 600 victims.

“They’re human… and I won’t let anyone forget that.”

Clara Roche is a sophomore at Hope College, Majoring in Social Work with a minor in Religion. She is passionate about social justice and advocacy and is involved with these measures in the Social Work Department.

Mahleija Tanner is a sophomore at Hope College majoring in Social Work, and she is a passionate advocate for anti-human trafficking with an emphasis on international dynamics.

How can I help?

Shane Claiborne on “Beating Guns”

For the 2023 A.J. Muste Memorial Lecture, the Hope College Peace and Justice Program and Students Demand Action for Gun Sense hosted Shane Claiborne, who presented a lecture called “Beating Guns: Hope for People Who Are Weary of Violence.”

Shane Claiborne is a prominent Christian speaker, activist, and author. He is an advocate for nonviolence, which fuels his passion to end the death penalty and gun violence. Claiborne’s activism is based in Philadelphia, but he has traveled across the world, sharing a message of hope wherever he goes.

The 2023 A.J. Muste Memorial Lecture with Shane Claiborne
Beating Guns: Hope for People Who are Weary of Violence

Claiborne presented to a standing-room-only crowd in Winants Auditorium on Monday, September 11, 2023, with students, faculty, staff, and community members eager to listen to his perspective. Overall, his presentation described gun violence as a public health, spiritual, and moral crisis, but one that can be solved by changing both hearts and laws. 

A garden spade made out of the barrel of a donated gun (learn more at rawtools.org)

Claiborne began his presentation by acknowledging the anniversary of 9/11. He shared that it was on the 10th anniversary of 9/11 that he transformed the first gun into a garden tool, which has become a meaningful part of his activism in Philadelphia. By melting down guns and rebuilding them, he says we are transforming tools of death into tools of life. This practice is rooted in Isaiah 2:4, which talks about beating swords into plowshares and spears into pruning hooks. At the beginning of his presentation, he gave a melted-down heart to a leader of Students Demand Action and then provided a small hand shovel made from a gun for the audience to pass around.

They will beat their swords into plowshares
    and their spears into pruning hooks.
Nation will not take up sword against nation,
    nor will they train for war anymore.

Isaiah 2:4

Throughout his talk, Claiborne connected his message of nonviolence to the stories of the Bible, revealing how his faith compels him to seek peace and justice. Overall, he connected his passion for nonviolence to the mission of Jesus, who scolded Peter when he picked up a sword to defend Jesus on the night of his arrest. Claiborne argues that when Jesus disarmed Peter that night, he disarmed all of us, emphasizing Christians’ call to nonviolence.  

Throughout his presentation, Claiborne also shared many statistics, emphasizing that gun violence is the number one killer of children in America yet is widely ignored. He added that the United States only has 5% of the world’s population but 50% of the world’s guns, meaning that the United States has more guns than people. Finally, he shared the shocking fact that 44% of all Americans know someone who was shot and killed. Additionally, Claiborne made sure to distinguish the difference between gun extremists and gun owners, as 90% of gun owners are not members of the National Rifle Association, yet the NRA tries to speak for all gun owners. 

While gun violence is often treated as a partisan issue, Claiborne emphasized that ending gun violence should be a non-partisan, Christian-led movement. White evangelicals own the most guns yet claim to be on the side of love. He said there seem to be contradictions at the center of Christianity, so he wants to advocate for the end of gun violence with his own love for Jesus as his guide. 

Claiborne beautifully wove stories of his own community being directly impacted by gun violence into his talk. Whether they are finding bullet casings on their streets, sitting beside victims as they fight to recover, or marching in the streets with families who have lost loved ones, Claiborne emphasized how this is a real issue affecting real people. While Claiborne does identify as a Christian, he criticized the “thoughts and prayers” approach that many Christians adhere to. Claiborne believes more than “thoughts and prayers” are needed to affect change. He claims that loving our neighbors means caring about policy, and while no law can change a heart, laws can make it harder to kill. Claiborne stresses that change begins with the people of God, as we are called to action as people of faith. When people say all we can do is pray, he believes they are wrong. 

He ended his presentation by saying that first hearts can be changed to care about gun violence, and then heads will follow. In his own efforts to end gun violence, he merges Biblical stories with the stories of people affected to make it personal. Access to guns is America’s problem and to quell it, we need to meet people where they are at by creating common ground. It is important to speak the truth and put faith into organizing and action, as Claiborne’s own life demonstrates. Christians have been part of the problem, Claiborne argued, but they can also be part of the solution. 

By tying his own faith to his activism, Claiborne exemplifies how to live a life of peace and justice rooted in Christianity, a perspective that one would hope to develop at a Christian institution like Hope College. Given the size of the crowd at his talk, we are hopeful that our community will continue to find ways to live out our faith in pursuit of peace and justice. Shane Claiborne’s passion for ending gun violence and commitment to living out his Christian faith through activism and nonviolence is inspiring, so we are grateful for the time he spent on Hope’s campus. 

Lauren Schiller is a senior at Hope College, majoring in communication and minoring in Chinese studies. She is a founder and the president of Hope College Students Demand Action for Gun Sense.

Anna Whittle is a junior at Hope College, studying Environmental Studies and Women’s & Gender Studies with a minor in Peace & Justice Studies. Anna is a founding member of Hope’s Students Demand Action group.