On Victimhood and Gratitude

 

Nun Katherine Weston - Facebook

Icon: Myrrhbearers at the empty tomb by Theophanes of Crete: Stavronikita Monastery.

Our culture has interweaving narratives about victimhood. To start with, our Western Christian heritage bequeaths us a story of Christ-as-Victim. In the West, the theology of substitutionary atonement highlights His victimhood on the Cross as the means of salvation. In the Orthodox Faith, we understand ourselves to be saved by His Cross and His glorious Resurrection through which He conquers death gives us eternal life. But still we speak of Him as the true paschal Lamb that takes away the sin of the world, and so our first victim narrative is part of our collective religious consciousness.

Then with the rise of humanism, signaled by Darwin’s authoring a god-free and scientistic creation story, and signaled by Nietzsche’s proclamation that “God is dead,” something of our shared, public relationship with the divine fell victim to a secular vision of society. When our lives, by contrast, are centered on God, then it is natural to value the virtue of gratitude toward Him and to remember that all we have ultimately comes from Him. The goods we enjoy are gifts and we feel some security in knowing that the Giver loves us and gifts us out of that love.

But when society is dead to God—because obviously God does not die—then what characterizes our narrative about the good things of life that we enjoy or hope to attain? We tell ourselves that these are not bestowed but deserved. And on what grounds do we deserve them? There are four stories to answer that question: First, the Hero Story tells us that we deserve good things as a fruit of our diligence and hard work. Second, the Savant Story which tells us we deserve good things for being more intelligent or having greater knowledge than others. Third, the Elect Story tells us that the good things which we enjoy are but indications that we are God’s elect people. But the fourth story, I think, is the most detrimental to our wellbeing: This is the Victim Story, which says we deserve good things, not in the positive sense wage or right or affirmation, but in the negative sense of compensation. But please understand that in no way do I negate genuine victimhood to circumstance or cruelty and the needs people face afterward. I speak rather of the handy narrative of victimhood that fills the vacuum when society abandons gratitude to God. And this victim story shows up in various spheres.

For example, I knew of a non-canonical Orthodox clergyman decades ago who explained his irregular status through a victim story—his particular missionary gifts, he said, caused other clergy to be jealous of him and to persecute him. This badge of persecution was worn as evidence of his righteousness. Because of our prior familiarity with the Christ-as-Victim theme, we can be particularly vulnerable to the appeal of the victim story to prove, not only the entitlement, but the very innocence of the “victim.” In the right circumstances, claiming victimhood generates social and political capital such that people may even fight over who gets to be the “chief victim.”

And so as a Black person in the Orthodox Church I continue to tell the story of Black people, not as a story of victimhood, but as a story of trauma, heroism, and work to be done. I tell the story of spiritual heroes worthy of emulation who came out of the fiery trial of adversity purified in soul. Some people imagine that the only goal of Black people in telling our story is so-called grievance and victimhood. Or that the only motive must be to compete to be the chief victim. If anyone wants the role of chief victim, let them have it. But as a Black Orthodox Christian I am not telling a story of victimhood—a story that stops at the cross—but a story full of spiritual heroes and inspiration for the path before us—a story that moves from the cross to the resurrection.