Resurrecting Wounds: Living in the Afterlife of Trauma

by Shelly Rambo

The Gospel of John's account of doubting Thomas is often told as a lesson about the veracity and triumph of Christian faith. And yet it is a story about wounds. Interpretations of this Gospel narrative, by focusing on Christ's victory in the resurrection, reflect Christianity's unease with the wounds that remain on the body of the risen Jesus. By returning readers to this familiar passage, Resurrecting Wounds expands the scope of the Upper Room to the present world where wounds mark all of humanity.

Shelly Rambo rereads the Thomas story and the history of its interpretation through the lens of trauma studies to reflect on the ways that the wounds of race, gender, and war persist. Wounds do not simply go away, even though a close reading of John Calvin reveals his theological investments in removing wounds. This erasure reflects a dominant mode of Christian thinking, but it is not the only Christian reading. By contrast, Macrina's scar, in Gregory of Nyssa's account of her life and death, displays how resurrection can be inscribed in wounds, particularly in the illumination of her body after her death. The scar, produced in and through a mother's touch, recalls a healing, linking resurrection to the work of tending wounds. Much like Christ's wounds and Macrina's scar, racial wounds can be found on the skin of America's collective life. The wounds of racial histories, unhealed, resurface again and again. The wounds of war persist as well, despite a cultural calculus that links the suffering of a soldier with that of Christ. Again, the visceral display of Jesus' wounds, when placed at the center of Thomas' encounter in the Upper Room, enacts a vision of resurrecting that addresses the real harm of the real wounds of war.

The powerful Upper Room images of resurrection―encounters with wounds, the invitation to touch, and the formation of a community―present visions of truth-telling and of healing that grapple with the pressing questions of wounds surfacing in the midst of human encounters with violence, suffering, and trauma. While traditional accounts of resurrection in Christian theology have focused on the afterlife, this book forges a theology of resurrection wounds in the afterliving. By returning again and again to Christ's woundedness, we discover ways to live with our own.

Genres: Theology, Religion

196 pages, Hardcover

Published October 1, 2017

Reviews

[Heidi]

Read for class.

[Peter Voorhees · Rating 2 out of 5]

I’m just beginning to explore the intersection of theology and trauma—a space where, surprisingly, there’s not much written. I’ve read Dr. Mark Carr and Dr. Shelly Rambo. Next up is more from Dr. Rambo, whose approach is both thought-provoking and challenging. I’m also looking forward to reading Dr. Serene Jones.

Some of Dr. Rambo’s conclusions resonate with me. Her emphasis on the necessity of safe community and confession as essential components of healing is deeply aligned with both pastoral and biblical wisdom. However, I was surprised by the absence of any engagement with the groundbreaking work of Drs. Bessel van der Kolk and Gabor Maté. While neither writes from a Christian perspective, their frameworks for understanding trauma and healing seem to beg for theological reflection. Their work could complement her insights beautifully and offer additional practical depth.

One detail that stood out was her translation choice around Jesus breathing on the disciples—rendering “pneuma hagion” as “a holy spirit.” By the book’s conclusion, this becomes simply “a spirit.” While a seemingly small shift, it introduces unnecessary ambiguity. In the Greek New Testament, pneuma hagion consistently refers to the Holy Spirit, not merely a spirit or spiritual force. This subtle change could obscure a core theological claim: that God not only heals but is actively present in the healing through the Holy Spirit.

Theologically, I suspect we come from different places. I’m not sure Dr. Rambo affirms the bodily resurrection of Jesus Christ, and that uncertainty creates tension for me in how she engages Scripture. Her biblical interpretation at times feels loose or symbolic in ways that make it difficult to anchor her insights in orthodox Christian belief.

That said, I genuinely appreciate her courage in engaging trauma through a theological lens. It’s a conversation the church desperately needs. I would love to see her future work incorporate more scientific research on trauma, especially from contemporary voices who, while secular, offer tools that align remarkably well with biblical truth.

[E. · Rating 4 out of 5]

The story of Doubting Thomas from the Gospel of John is the standard gospel lectionary text for the Second Sunday of Easter, and we usually approach it as a text about knowledge, doubt, and faith. Shelly Rambo invites a different reading focusing instead on the wounded body of the resurrected Jesus. What does it mean to carry wounds into the resurrection? Why does Jesus expose the wounds to the disciples and invite Thomas to touch? Why has theology failed (with few exceptions) to explore the wounds in this scene?

These fascinating questions are dealt with in this vivid exploration of the Gospel story. Along the way we encounter a contemporary French television show about ghosts, John Calvin's attempts to ignore the carnal aspects of the story, the healing scar of Macrina and her brother Gregory of Nyssa's struggle to understand it, W. E. B. DuBois in the ruins of the Warsaw Ghetto, Delores Williams's concept of wilderness, a smudging ritual in a care group of combat veterans, and Caravaggio's brilliant painting of the Gospel story. Among others.

This is a rich theological account of how we can continue living beyond trauma. We must surface our wounds and engage them safely in community where healing touch helps us integrate the wounds into new life.

Note: This was an interesting read just after De la Torre's Embracing Hopelessness, for I don't think this book succumbed to his critiques.

[Neal Tognazzini · Rating 2 out of 5]

This was my Lenten project, and I was excited about an opportunity to think through the idea that it really *matters* that Jesus’ resurrected body still had the wounds of the crucifixion. I wanted a conversation partner who would help me understand the significance of that fact, and the way it can speak to what healing in the real world actually looks like. But for the most part, I was disappointed. The book is about twice as long as it needs to be, and very little of substance is said at the end of the day. Instead, we get a lot of fancy-sounding words that are meant to offer interpretations of the doubting Thomas story through the lenses of gender, race, and veteran status. It’s not that there’s nothing interesting or useful about these interpretations; it’s just that they are way too drawn out and overwrought. Felt more like a work of literary criticism than like an attempt to wrestle with something theological, and the wonderful thesis of the book - that it’s important to consider what it means to live in the midst of death - doesn’t really get fleshed out in much detail.

I’m sure I’m just not in on the conversation that the author is having with other theologians, but I just kept wishing for a much clearer statement of what was being said.

[Daisy Jones · Rating 3 out of 5]

Ministry and the Disinherited, Fall 2021.