Abstract

In Sacrifice Lost, Theuring challenges her audience to rethink how particular doctrines and diocesan systems may serve to enable and perpetuate sexual abuse particularly in the Roman Catholic Church. Theuring argues that people's narratives shape their physical and spiritual realities stating that “theorists have repeatedly found that our language structures, including vocabulary, grammar, and narratives, shape how we see the world, ourselves, and one another” (xiii). Throughout the book, Theuring explores how these concepts can serve to perpetuate abuse and exacerbate traumatic symptoms in the aftermath of abuse.
Theuring states that “feminist, womanist, and liberation theologians, while challenging the glorification of suffering as untenable, recognize that suffering is an inescapable aspect of life and inherently intertwined with our understanding of salvation” (20). This frames up the theological angle she is approaching the book from to “breathe new life” (xiii) into doctrines to “deconstruct, examine, and reconstruct an atonement narrative in the context of the clergy sexual abuse crisis” (34). While there is some exploration of theological perspectives outside of modern approaches, there is little significant engagement with the “classical theological tradition” except by way of critique (34).
Theuring's methodology involves weaving together actual interviews with abuse survivors, composite “true fiction” stories (156–59), and theological reflection on the ways that interpretations and implementations of doctrines can perpetuate abuse and exacerbate the symptoms of trauma. Major concerns she expresses are the possibilities of people glorifying suffering (57), perceiving God as a divine child-abuser (59), or viewing the crucifixion and resurrection as negatively influencing people's perceptions of their lived reality (132).
At the forefront of this critique, I want to acknowledge the significant contribution Theuring makes to theologians and therapists by placing the two fields in dialogue in a way that is constructive even in the book's more deconstructive moments. Placing victims at the forefront of this discussion gives voice to those who have hitherto or otherwise been voiceless in their pursuit of justice. In principle, I recommend that more theologians take trauma and its lasting impact on people's spirituality more seriously.
As for the broader scope of the book, I think that Theuring addresses important questions that are facing the Church but does not provide adequate answers to those who are suffering. I want to focus my critique on the actual helpfulness of her approach to survivors of abuse but want to briefly highlight some of the broader theological concerns of note. Theuring's explicit theological angle results in a neglect of scriptural attestation to how Christians can deal with suffering. Theuring's overall thesis is also too contingent on the degree to which the Gospel of Mark is primarily midrash rather than historically reliable and theological significant (133), Mark consisting of “true fictions” like Pontius Pilate's offering to release Jesus because it “implies a tradition” without historical foundation (139), and the overall neglect of a proper Trinitarian theology as it relates to atonement and salvation (28).
In the narrowed theological view taken to articulate a Christian theology of suffering, Theuring overlooks the way Jesus understood his own suffering and how this should properly impact Christians. Theuring notes that “one of the most problematic interpretations of the cross… is the justification or glorification of suffering.” When Jesus's pain is labeled as necessary, she argues, survivors are “left in a troubling dilemma: they must either diminish their own pain or see it as a necessary, even beneficial, experience” (57). This is a false dichotomy and neglects the traditional, biblical understanding of Jesus's pain we see in Hebrews 12:1–2: “let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God” (NRSV). Having a savior that sympathizes with us in our weaknesses is foundationally therapeutic for people who feel abandoned and alone.
Theuring's concerns about people's misuse or misunderstanding of doctrine and Scripture is certainly warranted but doing so at the expense of Scripture is concerning not just theologically but therapeutically as well. Rather than meeting misuse and abuse of doctrine with further misuse and neglect of Scripture to provide comfort, Christians providing care can chart a more complete path forward that involves the use of Scripture and a more robust Trinitarian theology of healing.
