Love is worth the risk. It's the only salve for a traumatized world.

[The Great Open Dance]

Agape is dangerous. In previous blogs, we have argued that God is vulnerable to us and that we, made in the image of God, should be vulnerable to one another. Having counseled such dangerous vulnerability, we should now consider the real possibility of trauma.

Caregivers of traumatized persons run the risk of developing vicarious or secondary traumatization. With vicarious traumatization, the caregiver internalizes the trauma of the cared for and begins to manifest symptoms of the patient’s trauma. Vicarious traumatization can produce profound psychiatric disturbances—depression, anxiety, insomnia, etc.

We find ourselves in a trying situation: Only love can heal a traumatized world, yet love risks trauma itself. Is love worth the risk?

I suffered from vicarious traumatization when I worked as a chaplain in a psychiatric hospital for a year. I counseled patients, led Bible studies and worship services, and prayed and talked with whomever needed company. To do my job and get to know them better, I read their charts and became acquainted with the horrible suffering so many of them had experienced in childhood, sometimes in utero. Since I was on a ward for patients accused of crimes but found not guilty by reason of insanity (NGRI), I knew that most of them would never be released from the hospital. (On average, people found NGRI for a crime spend more time incarcerated than people found guilty of similar crimes.)

After a few months of this chaplaincy, I was watching a movie at home with my wife when I broke down weeping uncontrollably, for no apparent reason. Nell was sad, but it wasn’t that sad. In the end, my disturbance was relatively slight and my psyche normalized with time, counseling, and professional maturity. I learned to be compassionate with my patients without internalizing their experiences, present to them without absorbing them.

Shall we break? Nevertheless, my temporary disturbance raises crucial questions: Should a clinician for the traumatized deliberately restrict their vulnerability to protect themselves from the danger of secondary traumatization? Is self-protection a necessary strategy for successful caregiving? If so, then this agenda seems at odds with the theology presented here. God is Trinity, three persons united through agapic love into one divine community. God is interpersonal vulnerability, in whose image we are made. How dangerous is it to fulfill this image in a traumatized and traumatizing world?

Expressing this vulnerability and fulfilling that image, Christ did not protect himself from incarnation but joined us in our lives, at great cost. Likewise, caregivers who enter their patients’ lives may suffer. If caregivers do not protect themselves, then the resulting psychiatric disturbance might disturb the healthy relationships they do have, as well as impede their ability to care for the traumatized. Or, they might start weeping uncontrollably during somewhat sad movies.

How far should a disciple of Christ follow Christ? We live in networks of relationships, with loyalties to family and duties at work and responsibilities to community. We must strike a balance.

Jesus had two loyalties, to God and humankind, and those were absolute. We may live in the imitation of Christ, but we are not Christ. Even our call to love dangerously demands critical application, self-awareness, and an acceptance of ambiguity. We have different abilities and different vocations, all of which serve the Kingdom. And there are many we are called to love, including ourselves, because God loves us all. (adapted from Jon Paul Sydnor, The Great Open Dance: A Progressive Christian Theology, pages 232-233)