Today, I wanted to share a conversation I had a couple weeks ago with Ann Yeong for her podcast, Becoming Me. After attending one of my workshops, Ann invited me on her podcast to talk about the Church’s teaching on human dignity, spiritual abuse, and navigating the Church in the midst of religious trauma.
Please forgive a long comment. I enjoyed this interview. For me as a priest, it was a sobering reminder of how easy it is to use spiritual authority in ways that do not honor the dignity and freedom of those in my care.
I found especially interesting the latter part of the discussion, where justice was presented as a virtue one can exercise towards oneself: as in, not permitting someone else to dishonor my dignity and freedom; not permitting someone else to disregard appropriate boundaries. This has been difficult for me to learn and practice.
It has also been difficult for me to synthesize into a complete theological vision. While I often hear it presented (as here) in terms of a deepened realization of God's unconditional love, of Christ's respect for the inviolable dignity of man, etc., I do often wonder about passages in the New Testament that appear to run counter to this paradigm. "Turn the other cheek." "If they demand you go one mile with them, go two." "If someone steals your cloak, give him your coat as well." 1st Peter: "For what credit is it, if when you do wrong and are beaten for it you take it patiently? But if when you do right and suffer for it you take it patiently, you have God’s approval. For to this you have been called, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, that you should follow in his steps." The prayer from St. Ignatius of Loyola quoted here seems to be in the same vein. I can add, from my own monastic background, that the monastic Patristic writings are *full* of this kind of thing. That the monk must "embrace the waters of derision." Monks who submitted to years or decades of abuse from their elders are canonized as saints. St. Acacius who is mentioned in the _Ladder of Divine Ascent_ comes to mind. This same text and others exhort abbots that they must at times test and even publicly humiliate their monks.
It really is not hard to immerse yourself in Scripture and the Fathers and Saints and come away with the belief that if I allow myself to be abused, then I am carrying my cross as a good disciple of Christ.
I mention all this not because I disagree with the fundamental stance of your presentation, but because for a good while I have been in search of a discussion that really faces this quite prominent aspect of the tradition head on and integrates it. Perhaps you can suggest a presentation (from yourself or others) that makes some headway in that direction? Perhaps there is something from the Holy Father?
I think a partial answer must include a recognition that the world as we know it—post-industrial revolution, post-world WWI and WW2, etc.—is very different than in premodern times. Psychologically, humanity seems to be much more delicate and fragile. And hence, there is a necessary element of *enculturation.* And yet, we must also maintain that there is something perennial about the Church's moral and ascetical vision, and certainly something perennial about our vocation to carry the cross. How to thread this needle?
Please forgive a long comment. I enjoyed this interview. For me as a priest, it was a sobering reminder of how easy it is to use spiritual authority in ways that do not honor the dignity and freedom of those in my care.
I found especially interesting the latter part of the discussion, where justice was presented as a virtue one can exercise towards oneself: as in, not permitting someone else to dishonor my dignity and freedom; not permitting someone else to disregard appropriate boundaries. This has been difficult for me to learn and practice.
It has also been difficult for me to synthesize into a complete theological vision. While I often hear it presented (as here) in terms of a deepened realization of God's unconditional love, of Christ's respect for the inviolable dignity of man, etc., I do often wonder about passages in the New Testament that appear to run counter to this paradigm. "Turn the other cheek." "If they demand you go one mile with them, go two." "If someone steals your cloak, give him your coat as well." 1st Peter: "For what credit is it, if when you do wrong and are beaten for it you take it patiently? But if when you do right and suffer for it you take it patiently, you have God’s approval. For to this you have been called, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, that you should follow in his steps." The prayer from St. Ignatius of Loyola quoted here seems to be in the same vein. I can add, from my own monastic background, that the monastic Patristic writings are *full* of this kind of thing. That the monk must "embrace the waters of derision." Monks who submitted to years or decades of abuse from their elders are canonized as saints. St. Acacius who is mentioned in the _Ladder of Divine Ascent_ comes to mind. This same text and others exhort abbots that they must at times test and even publicly humiliate their monks.
It really is not hard to immerse yourself in Scripture and the Fathers and Saints and come away with the belief that if I allow myself to be abused, then I am carrying my cross as a good disciple of Christ.
I mention all this not because I disagree with the fundamental stance of your presentation, but because for a good while I have been in search of a discussion that really faces this quite prominent aspect of the tradition head on and integrates it. Perhaps you can suggest a presentation (from yourself or others) that makes some headway in that direction? Perhaps there is something from the Holy Father?
I think a partial answer must include a recognition that the world as we know it—post-industrial revolution, post-world WWI and WW2, etc.—is very different than in premodern times. Psychologically, humanity seems to be much more delicate and fragile. And hence, there is a necessary element of *enculturation.* And yet, we must also maintain that there is something perennial about the Church's moral and ascetical vision, and certainly something perennial about our vocation to carry the cross. How to thread this needle?