Author: Shannon Jung
Date: September 7, 2011
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Flourishing Through Contrition: Hunger and Transformation

Elements of Contrition
1.)    Regret—That we the affluent are complicit in the misery of others is a hard pill to swallow. It is easy to see why many of us ignore or evade that reality. But it is, in fact, reality. Contrition begins with the confrontation of that reality and the emotion of regret. We are discomforted by the fact that the ribeye we eat with relish entailed the use of gallons of water and pounds and pounds of grain that also produced ill effects for the air and water and possibly the cattle as well. That grain and water came to us through the labor of others (say, Mexican-American beef packers in Dodge City, Kansas) who work in conditions and for wages that many would not. We imagine the pain and harm that went into that ribeye and can empathize with that suffering. While we learn through our own pain, immediate experience of adversity, and tribulations, we have the (limited) capacity to imagine vicariously the sufferings of others. That means we can, to a degree, identify with others if we have not experienced suffering ourselves. We regret that suffering.  [14]

2.)    Being aware—Awareness is much more complex than it appears. Human beings seem capable of letting certain information onto their screens and into their hearts at different levels. An imminent and clear danger triggers immediate awareness and action; at the same time, others’ criticism of our acts can easily be dismissed or simply not heard. We remain unaware of what they are saying. Thus, to be aware involves information, but also involves allowing that information to register. When the issue is our appropriation of the benefits of others, or of the ways that we add just an increment to a situation we regret, it is more difficult to allow ourselves to accept and examine that issue. Thus, this issue generates another one: what does it take for us to become aware of issues of active commission, or of cooperation with evil, or of reactive hurt, much less issues of weak complicity which can become diffused over a multitude of actors?

Perhaps it is also fear that blocks us from acknowledging our appropriation; we fear that our security will be breeched if we confess that we are complicit. We may feel that denying any vulnerability or any connectivity with others will wall us off from all danger and destroy any relationships that may make a claim on us, even if they might enrich our lives and give us joy. We simply cannot face the sort of insecurity that fear brings because we are afraid that the only trustworthy fortresses are the ones we erect. In short, we may block awareness because we fear what we may find—rejection, vulnerability, and diminishment. We fear that there may be only judgment and condemnation.  Contrition brings the gift of letting all that go, secure in the providence of God.

3.)    Recognizing the possibility of new life. Success stories—One of the elements that enables    people to experience contrition is the recognition that there is life on the other side of  complicity. By realizing the hope that one can change and amend one’s habits and ways of acting, men and women become capable of change. I have become much more optimistic about this since joining Alcoholics Anonymous. I have seen people change, and I myself have changed. One of the dynamics that contributes to AA’s success is that fellow alcoholics tell their stories about change and about how their ongoing recovery is improving their lives. Two or three of the steps in the program talk about making amends for what we have done in the past;  those steps of making amends are not dependent on the acceptance or forgiveness of those whom we have harmed. Thus, the possibility of new life is fostered by success stories which depend on “God doing for us what we could not do for ourselves” (from The Promises, Alcoholics Anonymous, The Big Book, 64).

Furthermore, socially and corporately, success stories of collective action bolster our hope that there is the possibility of making amends, of changing the world for the better. Without such hopes, there may seem little reason to be contrite or make amends.

4.)    Community—While it is true that individual men and women can make amends as an act of contrition, and true that we can realize that such contrition and amend-making is valuable regardless of the other’s reaction, it is yet also true that beliefs (and the capacity to make amends) depend on community. It is in community with others that we learn that we will not be shunned, ostracized or rejected when we are contrite and confess our weaknesses, wrongs, and complicity. This may sound too simple; it is not. The practice of community depends on being accepted by others, while learning to accept others and to appreciate the unity of the group. There is no need to like another person nor to condone his or her behavior; that is not entailed in the practice of community. But, without an ongoing sense of community, the practice of repentance and confession of complicity will die out. Furthermore, it is in reflecting on experience with trusted others that we learn from our experiences.

5.)    Some empathy. A point of connectivity—Our own pain and vicarious experience of others’ pain and suffering is a significant point of connectivity. Empathy with others’ hunger, for instance, can result from voluntary fasting, a recognition both of what we can do without and what others are often compelled to do without. Contrition simply does not seem possible (does not have much lasting impact) without a sense of community or connectivity. In part, this is because hunger is a collective and social phenomenon and not simply an individual one. Contrition may be individually felt, but it is buttressed and reinforced only by the communion of others. That is logical since hunger and many of today’s ecological issues are collective in source. They call for the collective actions of millions.

6.)    An experience of grace, that forgiveness is possible. An “ah-ha” moment—This aspect of contrition may be a bit repetitive, but worth running that risk. Somehow contrition requires an experience that forgiveness is possible. We need to experience this forgiveness; it must be a bodily experience (thus, an ah-ha moment) that comes over us, and that is not something we can will or think ourselves into. The experience of forgiveness from others is analogous with the forgiveness of God. Better put, it is one way that God’s forgiveness comes to us.  And because that is true, it becomes all the more important that we communicate the reality of forgiveness to others—and that the affluent belong to communal groups that live out forgiveness. This community may be a church, but it could any kind of organization.

7.)    A rule of life that is based on a narrative that makes incarnational sense to us—Perhaps it is becoming clear that contrition is not so much obligatory or even utilitarian as it is illuminative and formative. It is a gift more than it is an achievement. We may be in the right place and with the right people to receive the gift of awareness and contrition, but why some receive that gift and others do not is a mystery. Stanley Hauerwas has been hammering that we are formed by living a narrative and having our character shaped by remaining true to the Christian narrative, whether or not it conforms to the liberal, the evangelical, or the American narratives. Why some can be vulnerable enough to receive the gift of recognizing their own moral deficiencies and complicity, and then surrendering to God, and others not, appears to be somewhat beyond our own capabilities to know or effect. Perhaps it is a matter of opening ourselves (to the extent this is possible) to God’s action.

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