Irrational Violence
Some twenty years ago as I was transitioning from my vocation in independent school administration to the ministry, I was required to complete a battery of psychological tests. These tests were to ascertain my fitness for ministry before I could be ordained as a United Methodist Pastor. The results of the testing, among other uses, would provide information to denominational officials as to my psychological readiness to answer my call to ministry.
The battery of tests took several hours to complete. Part of the testing was timed to provide a sense of urgency and to create stressful conditions. By the time the last section of the test was in front of me, I was eager to finish up and be on my way. The last section consisted of statements that required I complete the statement with my best answer. For instance, one of the questions was this – “My favorite color is ______.” I was instructed to fill in the blank. Not too tough.
Each succeeding statement tended more towards the abstract – “Modern times differ from past eras due to______________.” “My prefered gender is____________.”
Then the final question appeared. “My greatest fear is __________.” Unlike some of the other statements that were somewhat familiar to me, I had never been asked to consider the question – what is my greatest fear. I took a moment to mentally consider some responses: fear of heights, fear of being buried alive, fear of being trapped in a burning building. None of these fears seemed greater than another.
My greatest fear
Out of the blue, without any more thought came the answer that I wrote down, thus completing the testing. My greatest fear is irrational violence. I don’t know why I conjured up that response nor why I wrote it down as my final answer. But the deed was done.
Several weeks later, I received a call from the psychological consultant who was employed by the United Methodist Church to meet with every candidate to discuss the results of our testing. An appointment was made and a week or two later there I was sitting in the consultant’s waiting room. The process about to unfold had already been explained to me when the meeting was set up.
My session began. There were no startling revelations. I did not disagree or question what the test had uncovered. The consultant didn’t appear concerned about my answers. Then he asked, “do you remember the last question you were asked? Do you remember how you answered – my greatest fear is_________?” Of course, I remembered the question, as it was the only question to which I had given any real thought before I wrote down my answer.
“Yes, I remember. My answer was my greatest fear is irrational violence?” The shrink did not say anything for several minutes. We sat there looking at each other. I wondered if I was to begin the conversation or wait for his direction. Finally, the doctor asked a reasonable follow-up question, “Why did you answer the question as you did? Have you been a victim of irrational violence?”
I answered, “The whole notion of irrational violence, now that I think about it, doesn’t make sense. When is violence ever rational? As to your question, yes, I have been the victim of violence. When I lived in New York City, twice within three months, I was mugged a half block from my apartment, and then someone tried to grab my wallet while I was riding the subway. The mugging was an effective physical attack. The second attack was a bit tamer until I resisted and held on to the robber’s arm as he tried to exit the subway car. That brief skirmish ended when someone hit me from behind and I fell to the station platform.”
“Any other experiences with irrational violence?” asked the psychologist. I started to think back at the events in my life. I could think of at least two other occasions I believed I had been a victim of irrational violence.
“Do you worry you will be a victim again in the future?” he asked.
“No, I really don’t think about it at all. If it happens it will happen. I’ll get over it, just as before and probably add it to my list of lifelong lessons in living,” I said. I was expecting more questions, more discussion, more inquiry about my observation that I didn’t think there was such a thing as rational violence. The doctor said nothing more about this subject.
“Well, all in all, I think you are ok to proceed with the ordination process. That’s my conclusion from your results. Thank you for coming in today.” With that, the consultant showed me the door and shook my hand.
Now it’s 2018, twenty years later. I live near Chicago. The lead-in news story every night is a report of the shootings, murders, drive-byes, robberies, rapes, and car jackings. Victims are all races, all ages, male and female, regular residents and more frequently now members of the Chicago Police Department – victims all.
My greatest fear is irrational violence. Please help me answer the question the shrink left unresolved – is there any violence that isn’t irrational?
It might be worthy to consider the violent perpetrators’ point of view. One could judge that indeed all violence is irrational, but could be indeed rationalized in the heat of battle during war or by someone seeking revenge for the murder or rape of a loved one. Rational violence is truly in the eyes of the beholder.
Cliff, I have a hard time rationalizing (condoning, approving of) any violence. Some forms of violence may be more easily accepted by civilzed society but accepting/rationalizing/condoning any violenec is still an issue for me. In another comment I received privately, the writer asked a helpful question – did I mean by “irrational violence” that the violence perpetrated was “random violence,” such as being in the wrong place at the wrong time? When I got mugged, I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. It didn’t make sense to me that I should be a victim of those muggers. I looked up some synonyms for “irrational”: Foolish, illogical, senseless, unreasonable. Foolish violence, illogical violence, senseless violence, unreasonable violence. Perhaps that’s really what that shrink should have explored with me. Thanks for the feedback.