In Resilient Recovery Group last night, I saw a woman working through her trauma in a way that I had never seen before.

When it was her turn to address the question, “what difference does it make God sees us as righteous?” she began her turn by shaking and clapping loudly. She looked up and moaned. There were aspects of this moment when she seemed out of control. And yet when she spoke words—even though they were words that were shouted and interspersed with groans—the words were intelligible and coherent. I talked to her after the group and there were no signs of mania or depression or psychosis. She was calm and rational.

During her turn, hands shaking and head turned back to look at the ceiling, she shouted, “I can’t tell you about you, but I know that my God doesn’t force Himself.” She then repeated this phrase, “He never makes me do anything I don’t want to do.”

Something about the tone made me think she was crying out about sexual trauma. In her childhood? On the street?

This moment was difficult for me for a couple of reasons. One, my buttoned-up Christian background tends to look down on emotions in favor of the intellect. Both the Reformed and Lutheran traditions encourage an intellectual assent to a number of theological propositions. We recite creeds, we study catechisms (Luther’s or the Heidelberg). We don’t shake and roll and clap and shout.

That was the smaller difficulty, though. I could chalk up what happened to stylistic differences. The bigger issue was the issue of trauma and how Christianity addresses trauma.

One thing that has always struck me as important is that the central storyline in Christianity is NOT one of trauma and the healing of trauma. The central story is one of sin and forgiveness of sin.

I am certain that The Fall from paradise was traumatic for Adam and Eve. But, trauma is not what guides the story. For the Jewish people, trauma certainly resulted from slavery in Egypt. But it is the rebellion and idol worship that gets worked on for 40 years in the desert, not trauma. The psalmist cries out "why" and "how long" often. And these cries are no doubt cries of trauma. But, the narrative arc of most psalms ends with the psalmist rejecting his doubt and returning to faith in God’s goodness, steadfastness, and power.

So trauma is addressed in the Bible-but I don’t see it as being the central issue.

The Bible is not divided into trauma and healing. It is divided into law and gospel. And it is divided that way for a reason. One of the issues I have with trauma therapy is that it tends to focus on learning to become calm, not on sin. There is--in the extreme forms--a jettisoning of moral action and meaning-making in order to focus entirely on calming the body through "bodywork".

For the Christian, trauma is not always a negative. In the story of Christ, his trauma was not the source of his problems; his trauma was the source of our salvation. "By his wounds, we are healed." Likewise, there are verses that encourage us to consider it “all joy” when we face trials and tribulations. Or that encourage us to "glory in our suffering because suffering produces perseverance. . . "

What has appealed to me so much about Canadian psychologist Jordan Peterson’s YouTube lectures is that he recognizes the value of suffering. He didn’t suggest that his audience seek soothing and relaxation. Instead, he urged them to seek meaning through action. Whether it was to clean your room or to be a source of support at your father's funeral--he never gave in to the narrative that if you experience trouble, you should retreat and lick your wounds.

I work with people from Reservations and the level of trauma they’ve experienced is so tragic that I am stopped in my tracks. Walking into a meeting with folks from the Rez can feel like stepping out of the Matrix and seeing something you’ve got no words or categories to describe. It sometimes feels like I shouldn’t address sin so much as I should address trauma.

I don't have the answer, but I do know that some healing can occur through grappling with meaning and identity. Often the source of meaning and identity can be found in our roles within families. When fathers and mothers make it their mission to be good fathers and mothers, they seem healthier than the persons who still identify primarily as victims of the trauma they've experienced. These mission-minded individuals consider it their purpose to put an end to the cycle of addiction and abuse.

I think the Bible is wise to focus on sin as opposed to trauma. We need a theology that wipes away our failure. We need a gospel that provides new life and becomes a source of power in our lives. We need divine intervention to make it through our tough days and to restore us to righteousness. Simply relaxing and soothing the body, will never give us the stamina we need to get up day after day and be parents and pillars of our communities

At the same time, l feel a need to address the trauma in a meaningful way. Maybe this is one way:

I am reminded that Jesus experienced the ultimate trauma. Trauma has been described as a violation of our preconceived notions of life and of God’s goodness. Jesus experienced such a violation. His life events violated every preconceived notion of how his life should go. Having lived in eternity in perfect, loving union with the Father and the Holy Spirit, he comes to earth in the form of man. He suffers hunger, thirst, physical exhaustion. Perhaps most poignantly, he experiences being cut off from the Father: “My God, My God, Why hast thou forsaken me?!”

There is healing in that phrase. But, there is also an invitation to follow Christ’s journey, to pick our cross and follow him, and to turn our suffering into healing for ourselves and others.

Here is a song that is a profound meditation on the connection between love, suffering, and healing.