The Female Theologian

Several years ago I discovered the TED talk by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie about the danger of a single story. It was a fabulous presentation that I used many times with students to encourage them to think about thinks from a wider perspective and to avoid stereotyping. Just recently I came across it again and it gave me pause for reflection. (If you have not seen it, I recommend you google it).

As humans we have a ‘single story’ (in a way) of those we interact with. Our experience of the other shapes our emotional interpretation – I’m sure our rational elucidation sometimes discounts much of this experience but it always remains there. One of the challenges of life in a modern world is that one person does not have a single story of otherness to others. I may be thoughtful and kind to you, but to someone else their experience is vastly different, perhaps I have seemed aloof and uncaring. How hard it is to let go of the hurt of a single story, when that interaction has caused real harm to a person (not just mild offense but actual harm)? And yet another may see this individual as a saint. It begs the question of where is accountability and whose responsibility is it in a world of so many single stories? We cannot expect the victim to sort it all out. What if it is a person in power? Who then calls them to account? Why is it we are expected to let it go just because this person has a different single story with another? It does not take away the harm. It does not undo the damage.

For years I have read about not judging and leaving that to God – after all who are you to judge. But what about accountabiliity? Surely, we are all accountable for our own actions. So why does the single story of one impact on the single story of another? How is that fair? Where is justice in this world of politics, power, pretense and performance?

I think back to the line in Scripture – ‘give back to Caesar what belongs to Caesar’. Most businesses and institutions (I believe) would have a board or a governing body that should hold its managers accountable, this is kind of like the Caesar reference – there are laws and expectations and we need to uphold them – and we should be accountable for our actions – and in the workplace there must be an unbiased body that can safeguard all of the employees. Instead of protecting the people they put in power perhaps justice would be found if they held them accountable (as they are called to), maybe then we could avoid some of the bullying, gaslighting and victimisation that exists in the isolated single stories that still matter and deserve restoration.

2000 years ago Jesus taught the Jews how to live out the spirit of the law in the social context in which they existed. I wonder what he would teach us today in this social context? Surely he would help us create a more just system that preserves our human dignity.

At Mass yesterday the responsorial psalm had the antiphon – our help is from the Lord who made heaven and earth.

We face so many difficulties in life and at no point does a celestial being sweep in and fix everything. Even so, the refrain stuck with me as true. Our help is from God, it is to God we need to turn in times of trial. And yet the rationalist in me says how is this so?

Ultimately, we are responsible for our own actions, situations and the way in which we evolve. When things go wrong, as they will, we try and fix our ‘situation’. Perhaps what we need to remember is that we need to fix what is broken within first. This is where we need to heed the antiphon. ‘Our help is from the Lord who made heaven and earth’. It is God who helps us heal within and without this help we will never be truly whole. When we have healed our inner selves then, and only then, can we really begin the work of remedying our physical and emotional situation. We may have a crack at it from a broken core, but will we ever really move forward consistently if our inside self is held together with band-aids?

How do we cooperate to heal that which is within? We pray with faith. We pray with hope. We pray with love. Oh, what peace awaits our soul when we do! And doesn’t it make sense to build that foundation first? After all a castle built on sand will never stand the test of time.

Let us love one another, for love is from God.

Love has to be one of the most ill-defined and yet most universal terms known to humanity. From a faith perspective we are called to love everyone. As individuals we seek to be loved because feeling loved is the easiest way to find self-validation from an outside source without facing the challenging adventure of believing in one’s own self-worth because of who one is on the inside. And yet, despite this being a God-like quality (to love) we fall in and out of love at fairly alarming rates. How can a quality that stems from God, turn to hate which is the antithesis of love?

Ancient scholars defined different types of love, but does this mean only some are from God? I think, perhaps, we have ‘bastardized’ the concept of love from the time of the Gospels when we heard that ‘God is Love’ because we simply could not comprehend that level of benevolence. Somehow along the way, love came to be synonymous with desire and love became an excuse for behaviours that we knew, deep down, were questionable. Perhaps it is our ongoing human predilection to seek that which we should find within, from others. Surely love has to come from within. If love stems from God, and our relationship with God is grounded and founded in our soul, then does it not follow that love stems from within and is not a response to something external?

If then love stems from within, how can someone not be worthy of that love? Therefore, it follows that we can love all. I have heard it said (when perhaps making poor choices) that a person does not deserve my love. This is potentially true. After all, do we deserve God’s love? Does it then follow that if I love someone and they have done nothing to warrant this love, am I behaving in a God-like manner? This is where I think semantics have led us astray. There are degrees of worthiness and the difference between humans can never truly equate to the difference between humanity and God. To love someone with no hope of return and to truly wish them well is – I think – within the arena of love. To love someone who does not wish it, to try and force this love on them, is not love – that is desire.

Some people say they love their life. I think it would be better to say they enjoy their life, or appreciate their life or are grateful for their life. Surely we have to come back to the meaning of love – which is grounded in the wellbeing of the other, not ourselves. Perhaps our best examples of loving in this world are children and pets. We say we love them. We put them first (often at our own discomfort) and love them even when they do not return the feeling or cause us pain. If we don’t save the meaning of the word soon – we risk the meaning becoming antiquated and then do we run the risk of losing real love in our world?

At the moment I am painting. My canvas are the walls of my room. It is at times frustrating but I hope to see the benefit of the effort when it is finished. To be honest I am not loving enamel paint and how hard it is to get off your skin. Also challenging is getting rid of those fibers of love from the three pets that, somehow every night, find their way to my room.

I do actually quite enjoy painting and I have been looking forward to the labour. To do something and see the impact straight away. So often what I do may or may not bear fruit, but I have to trust that it may occur and it is likely I will never know. Such is the way of teaching. I have to have faith that what I do matters in some small way. I think as humans we like to work, to do ‘stuff’ that we believe makes a positive difference, no matter how small, that the tiny drop of self we plop into the great pool of everything somehow is needed.

In my painting I chose to do a feature wall. I’m actually happy with how that turned out – except for one tiny bit near the electrical point where I just didn’t have the tape in the right spot and the colour I painted over shows through. It’s a bit like the canvas of life. We paint over and make change, but that glimmer of what once was seems to always be there as a reminder. And that is ok. If I think of the underlying messages inherent in the gospel narratives I see the motif of forgiveness and acceptance, that what once was shapes us but does not define us.

We need to choose our colours and paint to the best of our ability and to rejoice in the fruits of our labours.

The Prophet Amos talks about corruption. He is highly critical of those who ‘trample on the needy’ and those who throw ‘integrity to the ground.’ He talks of a ‘famine not of bread, a drought not of water, but of hearing the word of God’. It is very much a treatise on justice and the need to support (not take advantage of) those who are struggling.

Transpose this into today and we need to ask the question – who are the needy? Whilst there are many who are poor and lacking the basics, the Scripture is more about taking advantage of those less comfortable than ourselves. So without diminishing or ignoring the plight of the poor (which is real) I wish to focus on those that are still within our socio-economic sphere.

In a fairly competitive secular society to what extent do we take advantage of whatever power circumstance bestows on us? There has been many a ‘moral man’ who has used situations to their own advantage, whether to pursue power or riches or fame. Once you have the ‘foot-up’ what do you do with it? Many give back, but we need to ensure that we build our character – not our resume.

Perhaps there is a little corruption in all of us?

In the words of Amos there is still hope of restoration. We need to ‘make good the gaps’ in our own character before we can ‘restore the ruins’ of humanity. It reminds me of the message from the Gospel to take the plank ‘out of mine own eye’ before trying to remove my brothers.

However, in the words of a song:

Lights will guide you home

and ignite your bones

and I will try to fix you.

Coldplay

Firstly, we need to be open to the light. You can’t follow it if you don’t see it, or believe in the possibility of its existence. Once the realm of possibility touches your reason you need to look for the light, and evaluate which to follow, so that you are heading home. And how heart-filling is home?!

To ignite my bones – sadly my first thought was joint ache but I’m sure we can go beyond that to the urge to do good. When our bones are ignited we are ready and aching to make a positive difference; to pursue something with fervour that tomorrow may be better than today. To be restless in the pursuit of justice (unlike the community that Amos spoke to).

We need to commit to self-improvement on a deeper level. Not about looking better, running faster, achieving a higher position, but about being kinder, more consistent and more honest.

Be alone more frequently, where it is just you and God. If we surround ourselves with continuous noise how can we hope to hear that still quiet voice calling us home?

What is your truth?

I thought this was a challenging but possible question until yesterday. Then I was having a conversation and I mentioned how we can’t say that our view or experience of a person is their true self as others may experience them differently. But whilst I believe that, I do think we each have a truth that is at our very core.

Capital T Truth is (of course) God. I recently used the song ‘Voice of Truth’ in a Mass (by Casting Crowns). ‘We are called to listen and believe the voice of Truth.’ This song also talks about the messages we get from the world and how it is in God that we find our truest self-belief. The voice of Truth offers up hope. Whilst it is a song (a beautiful one) and the words are really a person (or group of persons) view I think this fits with my sense of theology; that the voice of Truth, which is God, is our deepest (infinitely so) well of hope.

Truth is intimately connected with our fullest humanity. So from this, I suggest that our individual truth has to be that which leads us to pursue our best-self. In our human-ness we are flawed and so we fail, and then fail some more. What is important, however, is that we continue to pick ourselves up, acknowledge our failure and set our feet firmly on that path to true humanity.

When we treat people differently – especially when it is to their detriment – that is our failure. Surely, we should have a consistent level of kindness, knowing that we all face our own Goliaths; then from this we can encounter those whose very being fills our hearts with a love for which we have no logical words. Sadly, fellow humans, I think we have let the bar for this level slip. Perhaps that voice of Society which tells us that it is ok to treat people in a vindictive way, after all ‘they wronged you first’, or ‘how dare they treat you like that’ or ‘of course you are right’, has infiltrated all our hearts.

If we are to believe the voice of Truth about what our humanity is, the truth about dignity, then I think we all need a retreat; a time-out from all the other voices to re-set that level and choose respect and kindness for ALL. Without this re-set can we really answer this question of ‘what is my truth?’ We all need to more clearly know our own truth and live it each day and in every encounter.

In the Gospel of Matthew we read (6: 5-6):

And when you pray, do not imitate the hypocrites; they love to say their prayers standing up in the synagogues and at the street corners for people to see them. I tell you solemnly, they have had their reward. But when you pray, go to your private room and, when you have shut the door, pray to your Father who is in that secret place, and your Father who sees all that is done in secret will reward you.

The whole idea of an omniscient God has existed since Abraham. I would love to ask the question – who are the hypocrites today? but I think that is a topic for another post. Rather today I ask ‘what is your private room’? I am working from the assumption that we have a personal connection with God (whatever that looks like).

So, I asked myself what is MY private room. The only answer that sprung forth (again and again) was that my room was inside myself, in the quiet stillness of reflection, or the pause after the chaos of turmoil, or the numbness after intense grief and pain. Not my mind, but my spirit. The space where I wear no mask and am truly just myself – warts and all. It is not always in a closed-in space; often for me it is in nature.

Then I asked – why do I need to shut a metaphorical door? Is it the only door? What am I shutting out?

Am I shutting out temptation? Or the voices of a society driven in a direction that is not loving? Or am I shutting out my own fears so that I can be in that place of connection with the divine? Or the pressures to be something I am not? Or the rules that just do not sit well within my heart? Or the ever-flurrying time that keeps ticking at an alarming rate?

Perhaps it is fear – for fear is what drives much of what we do. We are so afraid of not being loved that we forget that we are loved infinitely and without reserve. We need to shut out these voices that say we are not good enough, or worthy, to sit in that space where we are loved. So we shut out all that is not love, so we can sit in love.

What do we do in this space? In the Gospel we hear Jesus say that we pray. The question then is the timeless one of what is prayer? If prayer is that communication with God (who is love) and we aspire to be more God-like, then is it not logical to look at ourselves with an honest lens, untainted by the judgement of society, to reflect on (as Joan Chittister puts it):

‘… to look under every rock inside my own heart to determine what of life is still really gold and what of the answers that remain from the past is now simply fool’s dust.’

In our private room, we know who we are. We know what matters and what, ultimately, does not. The challenge is to bring that conviction through the door when we re-open it and emerge into the arena. For some reason I often leave these thoughts in my private room and I know that I need to work harder on bringing them with me.

There is a song I used to use at a previous school ‘Lifesong’, by one of my favourite Christian artists Casting Crowns. At the end of each day do you want your life that day to sing of the glories of God, or the seduction of Society?

Feeling like you do not matter is the worst feeling in the world. It is worse than pain (physical or emotional) and leads to a darkness that is so deep it seems endless.

We often respond to those questioning with ‘Of course you matter’ as if this is the most obvious reality in existence. But why do we matter?

For the past 30 years I have espoused that I matter not because of what I do but who I am, especially when people comment on my ability to do things. If something happened and I could no longer accomplish these things would I matter less? We change and grow throughout life so does our worth also? Somehow I don’t think so and I know that I say this through the lens of faith, that even when I cannot love myself I know at the very core of my being that God loves me. It is incomprehensible, inexplicable and never ending. But what if I lose my faith or if I had no faith? How would I know I matter? These questions do pose a quandary for not all who traverse this earth have the same faith or a faith at all. Rationally, therefore, I cannot accept my own answer to why we matter as being grounded in that belief that God loves us.

Given I see the issue with my naturally inclined response I looked elsewhere. I started with the assumption that we all matter equally. This is espoused in most faiths and is the cornerstone of the United Nations Declaration of Human Rights. We all matter equally; but we all perform vastly different functions and to diverse levels, therefore the reason we matter cannot be in what we do. We all matter equally; but we all relate to others differently, eliciting different emotional responses and gendering our own emotional responses in varying ways. Additionally, it is not viable for our own self-worth to be bound up in the emotion of another person who could easily render us devastated beyond words. Therefore we cannot matter because of how we feel or how we make others feel. We all matter equally; but we think differently, therefore it cannot be from our mental capacity. What is then left but the spirit?

The only logical illogical explanation is that there is something transcendental about our humanity, a spirit within, that both connects us to everything and means more than our mortal bodies and capacity. In a way my original answer was viable. We matter because of the spiritual aspect of our humanity; which for me, through my Catholic lens, is that I am made in the image and likeness of God who loves me beyond reason and without limit. Even when I struggle and fail, my soul is connected to something greater. I have a potential that I will never comprehend that is not about achievements or awards.

We can’t matter because of what we do, what we think, who we birth, who we marry, who we love, what religion we follow, what we say, who we are friends with or who we are a child of, this is ultimately external to ourselves no matter how deeply our feelings of love for these people and beliefs are embedded. We matter because we are spiritual beings at our core (regardless of religious affiliation and tradition).

I want every child on this planet to grow up knowing that he or she matters. How can this be achieved if we don’t have adults that know it. You have to see it to be it or so they say. Find your spirit.

What is your truth? Do you know?

In one of the Gospels it says that the Spirit of Truth will come and lead us to the Truth. It is not in the mind, not in the heart but in the soul.

We talk about mindfulness. We talk about the importance of honouring or at least acknowledging our emotions. How often do we talk about delving into our spirit or our soul? It is problematic as not everyone believes in souls, but we all say we have minds and emotions.

We are souls with a body. Even if science is more comfortable defining our physicality. How amazing would it be if we could measure our spirituality, or take supplements to restore or build our inner core? Whom can we turn to? There are many famous saints and writers who offer guidance for how to better know your own soul but often we get bogged down in the context or story.

Ultimately I would bet that most of us have an outside space where we go to breathe and recharge. Go there. Listen to the voice within. Sometimes we drown it out, sometimes it seems to speak another language, sometimes it says things we do not want to hear. In some way we are all connected – humanity, the planet, all that is and will become. What is Truth? My Truth is not your Truth and yet in some way it is. If we are all connected then all our Truths are also connected, like an intricate web. The problem is today I don’t think we all live our Truths as we just don’t know it. I spend a lot of time in reflection and prayer and I don’t always know my Truth and I don’t always live my Truth so surely it is a logical thought to consider that a person who disregards their spirituality does not live their Truth.

Life is busy. It is an interesting conundrum. We need all of us to live our Truth for harmony, but we have no influence over that. All we can do is make the time for our own Truth. That alone is a challenge, it goes against so much of what society says is normal. But we need to find our Truth within our soul so we can be the self we are intended to be.

So go. Go to whatever space it is. Go as often as you can. Breathe. Listen. Be brave and just be.

We offer our prayers to the grieving families of the victims of the Robb Elementary School shooting in Uvalde, Texas. In the words of Steve Kerr (Golden State Warriors Coach) ‘we should never become numb to this’. This horrific loss of life should touch our hearts and souls as we stand in disbelief at the tragedy.

No more will their lunches find the way into schoolbags as a new day’s adventure beckons.

No more will the school yard echo their footsteps running through.

No more will their smiling faces emerge from the classroom to eagerly go home to share their day with family.

It is a soul-piercing sorrow beyond words. Humanity should cry out collectively for justice that this may never occur again. It is almost 60 years since Martin Luther King Jr talked about freedom for all. Our children are not free. How can they be free if they go to school and are gunned down? Children should be free to play and learn and grow and develop. The time has come for the world to turn a new page and make sure this never happens again. God grant us the courage to change that which can be changed, and the resolution to persist until it is a reality for all.

In some regards we allow ourselves to be numb. Numbness is a safety net when we just cant cope. But numbness also stops us from acting. This is a tragedy beyond words. We simply have to act. HAVE TO!!! We cannot accept this as ok or as something that happens occasionally, NO. We avoid feeling to protect ourselves, but if we feel it maybe we will act to stop it.

We cannot look to those who have lost the most to make the change. We who look from outside and bemoan ‘how is this to be survived?’ need to push for change whilst enveloping those in the most dire grief in our collective love.