I was at a conference last weekend in Syracuse, NY, at which a number of theologians, philosophers, and educators spoke and thought together. The theme was Feminism, Sexuality, and the Return of Religion. Regardless of what the event might have hoped to invite or engage, there was one significant theme I took away: women have, do, and will suffer.
Let me quickly say, on the heels of such a depressing statement, that I am not depressed by this. Rather, I was able to think about the reality of suffering as certainly inevitable but also as the context through which we know and offer much hope – and ultimately life.
Sarah Coakley was the speaker on Friday morning and she is the one to whom I must give credit for these categories in which I’m been ruminating this past week. She said that there are really three categories of suffering:
1) This is a situation of suffering from which there is no way out. No amount of will or agency or courage can change the situation. It is completely, 100 percent, out of our control. Examples might include the Holocaust, genocide, fatal disease and even some natural disasters.
2) This category is one of suffering but with the inclusion of agency. The circumstances are truly painful but there is the possibility that a woman could exert her will and begin to experience change. In so doing, we must quickly recognize that such change may, in fact, be a step out of one form of suffering and movement into another. The key, however, is that agency actually can be exerted. This kind of suffering is not completely out of her control. An good example would be domestic violence: horribly tragic and not at all occurring because the woman isn’t exerting agency. Rather, it’s a context in which the circumstances, though horrific, do still have room for movement and change (perhaps, at times, not by the woman herself but by the community around her).
3) This suffering is that which is chosen – freely, willingly, and on behalf of something or someone else. The quickest image that comes to my mind is that of a mother protecting her children. Mother’s throughout time have willingly sacrificed themselves – even their very lives – on behalf of their child’s protection, health, or very life. And of course, the clearest example of this form of suffering, of course, would be Jesus. Jesus chose to suffer – in a context in which he certainly could have exerted enough agency to walk away. Instead, he understood the larger context, the ramifications, the value of his sacrifice and remained in a place of incredible tragedy, harm, and pain.
I understand, even as I type this latter category out (admittedly without doing a lot of wordsmithing and “work” to articulate it) that a slippery slope approaches. How would a woman discern the difference between number three and number two? Perhaps she sees her suffering – in the case of domestic violence as something she truly has no control over (category 1) and/or more likely, she sees it as her lot in life, her fate, her even her responsibility to suffer in the context of this relationship because exerting agency, seeking life, would somehow seem disobedient or willful.
How might women begin to understand more clearly the dramatic difference between these three categories and then willingly, freely, even with exuberant hope step consistently, bravely, and willingly into number three? Discernment.
I met with my Spiritual Director this morning. As we talked about these categories – and discernment – she said that we make a mistake when we think we can just “do” discernment. “Rather,” she said, “discernment is a way of life.” It’s a way of being in relationship with God that is far more significant than ’quiet time,’ or particular aesthetic disiplines and practices that we employ when we’re in a bind. It’s a spacious place within our very soul that is able to wait, to listen, to wonder, to actually feel vs. just processing things at a completely intellectual level without ever engaging our hearts.
It is also a spacious place that feels dangerous, out-of-control, and even fearful.
Consider again the woman in the context of domestic violence. For her to be able to create enough internal space in her own life, heart, and mind that she can experience her own grief as well as hear God’s grief on her behalf would then, potentially, mean that God doesn’t want this life for her. To step into that potential opens the flood gates to a thousand different realities, all of which have huge consequences for her. No. It’s easier to just bear the pain and anguish than to have to imagine that God could possibly desire life for her – that she deserves such, that she was created for such, that it is really all God wants for her and has promised. (This is far too simplistic a description of the dynamics of domestic violence and in no way do I mean to create categories that are not more thorough – considered in light of the miry web of complexity that exists in these circumstances.)
We are hard-pressed to live discerning lives. Our styles of relating, our behavioral patterns, and our quick-fix-obsessed culture prevent us from living in hands-open, risky, trusting ways – with God and with others. But if we don’t begin to move in this direction how can we ever hope to truly hear God’s heart on our behalf? How can we ever hope to be the women God has created us to be? How can we ever pursue life if all of our suffering only leads to death?
Discernment is choosing, over and over again, to step into the wide open space of God’s heart on our behalf; choosing to suffer on behalf of what God most desires for us and others: life – and life abundantly.
Not easy, this discernment thing. And certainly not easy to suffer, no matter the category. But for me, as I’ve been thinking about this nearly nonstop since last weekend, I realize that suffering is everywhere – certainly in my life and all around me. My attempts to escape it are for naught and I must be one who tirelessly works to end it – in my own life and in the lives of others. But in the in-between time, in the midst, I want to suffer well, with strength and wisdom and grace – not for suffering’s sake, but on behalf of life; the life for which God has suffered on my behalf.
As with most things, far easier said than done, but for me, worth thinking about far beyond this past week’s reflections…
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{ 1 comment… read it below or add one }
Dear Ronna,
Hi, it’s Beth Booram. I am a friend of Joe and Lisa’s. Lisa sent me your blog. She said I would know why. For sure!
Thanks for your thoughtful process of women and suffering. I am not discouraged by your statement, either. It reflects reality, which is always important to embrace in order to grow. It was helpful to me to read your reflections.
Lisa also knew that I would pick up on a phrase you used toward the end: “we must enter the wide open spaces of God’s heart.” That is the title of my book that is released in Septemeber. I would love to send you a copy.
Thanks, for sharing and offering for others, like myself, a place to name our pain as women and not ignore it; and a place to process how to respond.
warmly, Beth Booram