The Traumatised God

Faith, religious and spiritual issues are often present in issues of trauma. Leading to more and more survivors of trauma turning to the church for community and healing of their trauma wounds. Therefore, Christian theology cannot continue to ignore the existence of trauma or the theological injury it creates for the survivor as some aspects of historical theology appears to have done. “Theology, if informed of the context and responses of traumatic wounding can play a role in the resiliency [and healing] of trauma survivors” [1] Traditionally the main way that Christian Theology has offered healing and redemption is through the cross of Jesus, which it has done for 2000 years. However, this is problematic as for some the crucifixion story is a story of abuse and trauma and so for theology to continue to offer redemption and healing to survivors of trauma through the cross is damaging and not healing to survivors of trauma.

The cross of Jesus is largely interpreted as a symbol of redemption, salvation, and of God’s love for humankind. There are several doctrines of the Crucifixion that are traditionally taught within Christian Theology that teach that it was God’s plan for Jesus, His Son, to die so that He would win victory over death and in doing so humankind may be saved and redeemed to reconcile their sinful nature to God to gain eternal life. However, this interpretation of the cross has been interpreted as a symbol of abuse and trauma which legitimises violence and promotes passive submission to abuse. Also, as a symbol which can further traumatise, the cross could make faith in God seem unsafe for those who have already experienced and survived trauma.

Although Christianity no longer practises literal blood sacrifices by slaying animals on an altar, the belief in the salvation of souls won through the blood sacrifice of Jesus Christ remains the founding cornerstone of the Christian faith and shaping the way we think about God. In the Hebrew Bible, we read a detailed and storied history of how blood sacrifices were regularly used to appease an angry and vengeful God. Christian theology seems to continue this logic in the way that it interprets the death of Jesus. Tony Jones says that when Christians are asked “how we know that God loves us, ... [most] point to Jesus’s sacrifice on the cross [first, saying] that’s God’s love.”[2] However, he argues this is not enough to prove God’s love for humankind as further questioning commonly reveals that most Christians find it hard to explain exactly what happened on the cross or how it affects humankind.

This horrific reality of the crucifixion has been argued to cause disturbing concerns towards traditional doctrines of the cross. Too often Christians proclaim the message of Easter - victory and restoration - while skipping past the violence and trauma of Good Friday. Christianity widely continues to teach that the cross was required by God and in many cases asks trauma survivors to look to the cross to find healing from the suffering and wounding trauma has caused them. However, to expect a trauma survivor to accept healing through an act of trauma is an unpalatable expectation as it risks further damage and further traumatisation. The idea of redemptive violence and suffering has shaped the way we view the world and has become culturally normal and acceptable, evident in movies, tv shows, novels and songs where in the end good violence saves the day. By using terms where violence is used in a positive way such as ‘battling cancer’, ‘fighting to beat addiction’ or ‘waging war on poverty’, all of which reenforces the idea that violence can be redemptive.  

Yet, the redemptive doctrine of the cross is not only problematic, it not only portrays torture as good, loving, and redemptive but for some it “makes God out to be a vengeful, homicidal deity who can be satisfied only with the death of His Son.”[3] Meaning that the torture of Jesus to redeem the world as a plan which originated with God is a not only a disturbing doctrine that negatively portrays God but is a doctrine which raises serious concerns towards traditional doctrines of the cross. To ask trauma and abuse survivors, those who have already survived intolerable violence and suffering, to accept salvation, healing, and redemption through an act of torture and violence and expect them to see this as loving therefore becomes an unrealistic expectation.

While Christianity continues to assert that Jesus’s willingness to endure this torture was an act of love and submission to His Father’s will it also encourages believers to try to imitate the life of Jesus. I argue that this is concerning as these two teachings side by side are problematic and could leave Christianity at risk of encouraging trauma victims to accept their suffering willingly and silently as Jesus did. In this way, the cross has been used to legitimise suffering as obedience to the divine will and suggests a religious demand to take up one’s cross in silence and even thankfulness. This concern has been proven as a legitimate concern as some pastoral leaders hold on to the sanctity of marriage at all cost and overtly or silently encourage women to remain in relationships where they are abused and members of the church throughout history have instructed abused children to honour their father and mother despite the violence and trauma they have suffered at the hands of their parents.

Therefore, I argue that a new interpretation of the cross is needed for those who are survivors of trauma. Hughes argues that “the responsibility for finding open doors in Christian tradition and worship does not ... rest solely on the survivors of ... [trauma] who are seeking them”[4] and that it is the church that “as an instrument of justice, peace, and reconciliation is responsible for actively ministering to survivors of ... trauma.”[4] Arguably this new interpretation of the cross must prioritise giving Christian trauma survivors a way to connect with God’s love and redemption without asking them to do this through looking to an act of violence and torture.

Despite these legitimate concerns raised by survivors of trauma towards the traditional doctrines of the cross I argue that while looking at Jesus crying out on the cross as He suffered the crucifixion it is possible to see, not the Son victimised and abused by His vengeful Father, as is argued by some theologians, but the image of the traumatised God through whom redemption can be found for survivors of trauma. In this new image of the traumatised God it is possible to see God visibly suffering with us and for us. If the absence of God is experienced because He seemed to have allowed the trauma which caused this wounding to happen then I argue that the experience of God’s presence would need to meet the survivor of trauma in their wounds caused by what He seemed to be absent in. Arguably for the trauma survivor whose trust in the reality of the world, in others, and indeed in themselves has been left shattered by the trauma survivor.

The Traumatised God

The Christological question of what it means for Jesus to be Christ which has been asked for centuries becomes an important question here. The Nicene Creed, written in 325 CE by the early Christians as a profession of faith, and has consequently been argued to have formed the basis for all subsequent western Christology makes a profession of who Jesus is. Naming Jesus as the only Son of God, eternally begotten of the Father, God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God, begotten, not made, of one Being with the Father. This Christological statement is clear in its declaration that Jesus as the Second Person of the Trinity is not understood to be separate or apart from God. As a pronunciation of faith still spoken today by Christians all around the world within both Catholic and Protestant churches the Nicene creed is arguably still relevant to our understanding of the Christology of Jesus today. By attempting to address the question of who Christ is Athanasius, who was a deacon at the time of writing the Nicene Creed, argued that “only God could save fallen humanity [and so] if ... Jesus Christ is saviour, the Christ must be God.”[5] Athanasius backed up his argument with the Gospel of John which says, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God” (John 1:1). In this context Jesus is referred to as ‘The Word’ and so the Gospel writer is showing not only that Jesus is with God but that He is God.

Fundamentally Christian theology shows that these three persons are not separate from each other. Debates surrounding the nature of God and the doctrine of the Trinity have been discussed for 2000 years and with some considerable differences and interpretations across Catholic, Protestant, and Orthodox denominations. Jesus is the incarnation of the intrinsically good God on Earth Jesus as the second person of the Trinity becomes not just understood as the begotten Son of God but can also be understood to be God. As is declared in the Nicene creed Jesus is of one being with the Father. This way of understanding the Trinity has implications for the concern Christian trauma survivors have with the traditional doctrines of the cross. I argue that if Jesus is God as one being then when looking at God’s role within the Passion narrative He cannot be seen as separate or apart from the trauma of Jesus within the trauma experience.

Although the cross is violent it needs to be looked at and not glossed over to look to the resurrection of Easter, as some Christians often do. It is important to hold the passion narrative together as a whole when constructing the image of the traumatised God, rather than separating it into multiple narratives. For example, the willing submission of Jesus as seen in the garden of Gethsemane must be told alongside the torture of the crucifixion, which in turn must be told alongside the resurrection to form one narrative. Christ could not rise from the dead if He did not die and without His resurrection, there is no divine act of saving or redemption. In this way the abuse of the crucifixion cannot be looked at without the glory of the resurrection, likewise, the glory of the resurrection also cannot be looked at without the trauma of the crucifixion. The crucifixion narrative should not be ignored or glossed other but rather become an integral part of the image of the traumatised God.

The image of who the traumatised God is can be seen in the actions of Jesus following His resurrection. Recall Luke 24.36-39, which told how the resurrected Jesus appeared to His disciples for the first time. As the disciples see Him they are afraid and question His identity by asking if He is a ghost. Jesus identifies Himself to them by showing His hands and feet and their visible nail holes. I argue that in the showing of the nail holes Jesus is placing a great significance on them which is important to trauma survivors. The nail holes of the resurrected Jesus are the direct consequence of His trauma experience on the cross. This is an image where within the perfection of Jesus trauma has formed what could be argued to be an imperfection. Those who are survivors of trauma likewise live with the long-term debilitating imperfection of the wounding of their trauma experience. By using His wounds to identify Himself the resurrected Jesus acknowledges the wounding of His trauma and invites His disciples to identify Him through His trauma wounding. I argue that it is in this action that the traumatised God is able to offer redemption to trauma survivors.

In John 20 we read how Thomas, one of Jesus’s disciples who did not see Him on His first appearance, is told by the other disciples about the first encounter. Thomas says, “Unless I see the mark of the nail in His hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in His side, I will not believe” (John, 20.25). Jesus’s response to Thomas is profound. Jesus chooses to reveal Himself personally to Thomas in the way that he needed for him to believe. I argue that as Jesus met with Thomas in this individual way, allowing His trauma wounds to silently express His identity, this is significant for Christian trauma survivors to be able to connect with the God of love. As Jesus accepted, used, and owned His trauma wounds, those who live with trauma and dissociation and might be able to see their trauma wounds as significant also. In His action of choosing to resurrect as a trauma survivor He not only meets the trauma survivor in their pain but inhabits the broken souls of trauma survivors, suffering with them, struggling for life against all forces of evil which prey upon them as He too owns and inhabits His trauma wounds and struggled against all the forces of evil on the cross.

This action of Jesus willingly submitting to the torture of the cross is interpreted by Christian Theology as a saving act of love. While in some way convinced by the argument that the cross is a violent act of trauma and therefore potentially problematic for trauma survivors, I am equally convinced that this violence in no way negates the love and promise of life in the cross. Likewise, love and life for the survivor of trauma can be found through the cross of Jesus despite its violence and trauma, and new life and resurrection from the wounds of trauma can be found for the Christian trauma survivor. However, this can only take place if God’s role in the crucifixion narrative is one where He is present in the trauma and offers safety and understanding. Here we need to abandon the story frame of blood atonement and tell the passion narrative in terms of struggles for justice. The trauma narrative is one of injustice and of the survivor’s struggle for justice in the aftermath and wounding of trauma. I argue that if the passion narrative was one of a struggle for justice within the aftermath of the trauma experience, it would be a narrative the Christian trauma survivor could relate to.

Like a person who is disabled and cannot set aside their disability, a trauma survivor cannot choose to set aside their trauma and is forced to make the wounding of their trauma part of them and their narrative. The trauma experience and the wounding that trauma has left the survivor with has become an integral part of who they are. For a survivor of trauma one of the most challenging realisations for a trauma survivor is that history cannot be undone. The trauma story will always be a part of a trauma survivor’s story even after any experience of integration and healing. Theologian Nancy Eisenland presents the image of God in a sip-puff wheelchair able to connect to those who are disabled. In the same way that Eisenland presented the image of a disabled God, God in the context of the trauma survivor needs to be a traumatised God to appropriately relate to those who are survivors of trauma through identification. Through the image of a traumatised God here survivors of trauma might be able to see God’s presence in the pain of their trauma experience through the safety of His ability to identify with trauma through understanding and in this way the trauma survivor may connect with Him to receive His redemption.

If God is of one being with Jesus, as shown in an earlier section of this chapter, then I argue that God is not separate or removed from the torture of the cross. He cannot act in discontinuity with Himself and will His Son to suffer the trauma of the cross apart from Himself. As Jesus willingly submitted to the cross I argue that God too willingly submitted, and as Jesus endured trauma and suffering on the cross God too endured suffering and trauma on the cross. God was not separate or apart from the trauma experience, but I argue can in fact be found in the horror and pain of the cross. In this way God Himself can be seen as a trauma survivor, able to relate to and connect with those who have survived trauma.

References

[1] Baldwin, J. L. (2013). Injured but not broken: Constructing a trauma sensitive theology (Order No. 3588331). Available from Health Research Premium. Page 5.

[2] Jones, T. (2016). Did God Kill Jesus?: Searching for love in histories most famous execution. New York, United States of America: HarperOne. Page 67.

[3] Swaim, L. (2012). The death of christianity. Tikkun, 27, 20-27. Retrieved from https://search.proquest.com/docview/1140216020?accountid=14620

[4] Hughes, B. (2004). Where was god? spiritual questions of sexually abused children. Sewanee Theological Review, 48(1), 87-108. Retrieved from https://search.proquest.com/docview/214721555?accountid=14620 page 95

[5] Micks, M, H. (2005). Loving the Questions: An exploration of the Nicene Creed. New York, United States of America: Seabury Classics.