In the middle of my second year of graduate school, my life changed forever. I went home for Christmas break one person and returned another—a shaken, skittish proxy of myself I barely recognized. Thanks for reading Remembering All These Things! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.
what is interesting in my life, personally...there is no "before trauma." I was born into trauma. And trauma was all i knew until literally not quite 2 years ago (for perspective, I'll be 50 in February). I had no concept of "safety" or "peace" in my life, having literally never experienced it. So, there is no "before" for me. There is only "now" and the present and future I'm striving to build...which, thanks be to God, is built upon my (still somewhat unclear) notions and understanding of both "safety" and "peace." There is no before, for me. There is only now.
Thank you for sharing portions of your personal journey as you reflect on the intersection of Theology and Trauma. I will look forward to your book as the thoughts come together. In this writing I was struck by how mere language can embody a tension between its use for evil and its use in our personal and social history. As you write "How do we read the Torah after the Holocaust?" I am reminded of the Babylonian exile, "By the waters of Babylon there we sat down and wept when we remembered Zion. On the willows there we hung up our lyres. How shall we sing the Lord's song in a foreign land?" (Ps 137) When trauma leaves us in a foreign land, how can we sing? When trauma is experienced in the context of a religious (church) environment, songs, phrases, even the sight of a church can trigger defensive mechanisms (as described in The Body Keeps the Score).
I appreciate your thoughts on trauma as a 'problem' for theology. There certainly is a tension, particularly in the more evangelical realms of protestant tradition (my background). "Everything happens for a reason." "In Christ you are a new creation -- so bury (ignore) your past". In our advent studies we talked about a tension between darkness and light. I am drawn to your concept of theology as a container where we may hold both, and live with "the Mystery of all we may never know..." Remembering is certainly essential to healing. The words you write at the end resonate with my as I am sure they do with many others of your followers, "...emissaries meeting in the night from the trenches of traumatic grief." Theology can contain not only the mystery of incomprehensible, unexplainable suffering, but also the joy of silence in community with those who share grief.
While I speak of the personal, I also share grief over a world where trauma is systemic as well as intentional through war and inter-group conflicts. I grieve for the world.
Finally, again, I look forward to an upcoming book where you bring your thoughts together. While not Orthodox, I greatly appreciate what the Orthodox tradition offers. Thank you for sharing your life and thoughts. Sam
Gruess Gott! Also, ursprunglich komme ich aus Chicago, aber ich habe mit der deutschen Sprache mit 15 echt angefangen, habe dort studiert, und spaeter auch jahrelang gewohnt. Irgendwie ist mein Weg in die orthodoxe Kirche mit Alexander Schmorell (heutzutage Sankt Alexander von Muenchen) eng verbunden. Als ich ueber ihn zuerst was geleben habe, war das wahrscheinlich im Jahre 2000 und er war auch in Deutschland kaum bekannt - wenn man ueber die Weisse Rose spricht, kennt fast jeder Hans und Sophie Scholl, aber die andere? Naja...
I've been Orthodox now for 20 years - baptized in Munich - and I have read the Gospel in German many times at Agape Vespers. One year, I did this up at the little church in Bonners Ferry, Idaho (wonderful, wonderful church!) In any case, there was a man who was standing a little bit behind me who let his displeasure with hearing the German language be known. "I can't believe Father let someone speak that Nazi language here!" Mind you, I wasn't yelling it out like Der Fuehrer; I don't know if I could if I wanted to. It was just odd to me that this man would be so incensed about this - after all, it wasn't the German language that was to blame, but certainly, there's still a lot of association between the atrocities of the Third Reich and the German language.
what is interesting in my life, personally...there is no "before trauma." I was born into trauma. And trauma was all i knew until literally not quite 2 years ago (for perspective, I'll be 50 in February). I had no concept of "safety" or "peace" in my life, having literally never experienced it. So, there is no "before" for me. There is only "now" and the present and future I'm striving to build...which, thanks be to God, is built upon my (still somewhat unclear) notions and understanding of both "safety" and "peace." There is no before, for me. There is only now.
Thank you for sharing portions of your personal journey as you reflect on the intersection of Theology and Trauma. I will look forward to your book as the thoughts come together. In this writing I was struck by how mere language can embody a tension between its use for evil and its use in our personal and social history. As you write "How do we read the Torah after the Holocaust?" I am reminded of the Babylonian exile, "By the waters of Babylon there we sat down and wept when we remembered Zion. On the willows there we hung up our lyres. How shall we sing the Lord's song in a foreign land?" (Ps 137) When trauma leaves us in a foreign land, how can we sing? When trauma is experienced in the context of a religious (church) environment, songs, phrases, even the sight of a church can trigger defensive mechanisms (as described in The Body Keeps the Score).
I appreciate your thoughts on trauma as a 'problem' for theology. There certainly is a tension, particularly in the more evangelical realms of protestant tradition (my background). "Everything happens for a reason." "In Christ you are a new creation -- so bury (ignore) your past". In our advent studies we talked about a tension between darkness and light. I am drawn to your concept of theology as a container where we may hold both, and live with "the Mystery of all we may never know..." Remembering is certainly essential to healing. The words you write at the end resonate with my as I am sure they do with many others of your followers, "...emissaries meeting in the night from the trenches of traumatic grief." Theology can contain not only the mystery of incomprehensible, unexplainable suffering, but also the joy of silence in community with those who share grief.
While I speak of the personal, I also share grief over a world where trauma is systemic as well as intentional through war and inter-group conflicts. I grieve for the world.
Finally, again, I look forward to an upcoming book where you bring your thoughts together. While not Orthodox, I greatly appreciate what the Orthodox tradition offers. Thank you for sharing your life and thoughts. Sam
Thank you for sharing. I cried at the end... keep writing and sharing. So well written and powerful for the healing of yourself and others.
Gruess Gott! Also, ursprunglich komme ich aus Chicago, aber ich habe mit der deutschen Sprache mit 15 echt angefangen, habe dort studiert, und spaeter auch jahrelang gewohnt. Irgendwie ist mein Weg in die orthodoxe Kirche mit Alexander Schmorell (heutzutage Sankt Alexander von Muenchen) eng verbunden. Als ich ueber ihn zuerst was geleben habe, war das wahrscheinlich im Jahre 2000 und er war auch in Deutschland kaum bekannt - wenn man ueber die Weisse Rose spricht, kennt fast jeder Hans und Sophie Scholl, aber die andere? Naja...
I've been Orthodox now for 20 years - baptized in Munich - and I have read the Gospel in German many times at Agape Vespers. One year, I did this up at the little church in Bonners Ferry, Idaho (wonderful, wonderful church!) In any case, there was a man who was standing a little bit behind me who let his displeasure with hearing the German language be known. "I can't believe Father let someone speak that Nazi language here!" Mind you, I wasn't yelling it out like Der Fuehrer; I don't know if I could if I wanted to. It was just odd to me that this man would be so incensed about this - after all, it wasn't the German language that was to blame, but certainly, there's still a lot of association between the atrocities of the Third Reich and the German language.
Has Jennifer ever seen your writing, particularly this story? She should.