Anne Rice: The Young Messiah

https://youtu.be/5EynFdirgmY

http://annerice.com/

In theology class today, we had a discussion about Anne Rice for a few minutes. The new film, “The Young Messiah”, is based on her book, “Christ the Lord: Out of Egypt”! She is probably the most well known for her book, “Interview with the Vampire” and initiated the whole “theology of the undead” vampire theology movement!

Her background is rather interesting as seen from Wikipedia. She was raised in an observant Catholic family, but became an agnostic as a young adult. Apparently that had to do with the lack of good pastoral care when her daughter passed away from leukaemia in 1972. In the mid-2000s, following a publicized return to Catholicism, Rice published the novels Christ the Lord: Out of Egypt and Christ the Lord: The Road to Cana, fictionalized accounts of certain incidents in the life of Jesus.

On July 28, 2010, Rice publicly announced her disdain for the current state of Christianity on her Facebook page, stating, "Today I quit being a Christian.... I remain committed to Christ as always but not to being 'Christian' or to being part of Christianity. It's simply impossible for me to 'belong' to this quarrelsome, hostile, disputatious, and deservedly infamous group. For ten years, I've tried. I've failed. I'm an outsider. My conscience will allow nothing else." Shortly thereafter, she clarified her statement: "My faith in Christ is central to my life. My conversion from a pessimistic atheist lost in a world I didn't understand, to an optimistic believer in a universe created and sustained by a loving God is crucial to me. But following Christ does not mean following His followers. Christ is infinitely more important than Christianity and always will be, no matter what Christianity is, has been, or might become."

Morling Tuesday Chapel Ephesians: Big Picture Christianity

1 March, 2016

Topic: Big Picture Christianity

Scripture: Ephesians 1:1-14

Speaker: David Starling

Small-picture: Egocentric, my ministry, my kingdom, my blessings, where does God fit into my plans?

Big-picture: Ephesians 1, in Christ, reorientates the centre, where does my life fit into God's plans?

Going Global: A Congregation’s Introduction to Mission beyond Our Borders, by Nelson, King, and Smith

For years, the missionary was the axis by which one understood and did global mission. They described and interpreted the country to those of us “at home” through the lens of their own experience. Everything was brokered through them. This has all changed. The missionary has been decentred and is in the process of being dethroned due to a shrinking world and greater global access. We have many angles and perspectives from which to choose. Each of them presents a different view. Media feeds us with daily images of the global world. Travel and immigration brings the world to our door.[1]

Globalisation is experienced on a daily basis. We can no longer assume that “our way” of looking at things is the “only way”. For example, for many Europeans and North Americans, Pearl Harbor and D-Day lie at the centre of that time in history. For the Chinese their stories contain events such as the “Rape of Nanjing.”[2] The experience of Peter in Acts 10 is an example of this shift of paradigm. His worldview and his understanding of God was shaped around cultural and national identity. The invitation to visit and share table fellowship in the home of Cornelius required Peter to examine fundamental issues of his identity. Living in a global world necessitates a constant questioning of our assumptions and our prejudices.[3] The Western churches might need to ask themselves this question: If our methods of ministry and mission are so effective, why are the Western churches in decline and the church in the Global South growing?[4] Christianity is flourishing wonderfully among the poor and persecuted while it atrophies among the rich and secure.[5] This is not to suggest that everything about the church in the South is good, but simply to suggest that they have much to teach to the West about their nominalism and stagnation.[6] The centre of Christianity has moved to the Southern world.[7] The churches in the South read the Bible in ways much different from those that Western missionaries taught as their readings and reflections emerge from their experiences. Jenkins goes on to muse about “who should be missionaries to whom?”[8]

Six basic shifts to understanding are required of missionaries, churches, denominations, and mission agencies that wish to offer faithful service to God at home and in distant lands. 
1) Our basic framework of mission: from an exclusive to an inclusive understanding of God’s mission. In the traditional paradigm, mission is understood as the task of the church to bring God, in Christ, to the “unreached” peoples. This understanding is what is called Noah’s ark model of mission (Genesis 6-8). Like the ark of Noah, the church is composed of people who are plucked out of an evil world that is set for damnation and who need to be safeguarded to enter their heavenly abode. As those who are rescued, it is now their task to prevent people from jumping out of the ark, and to rescue a few others who may be drowning.[9] An inclusive understanding of mission is based on the affirmation that Christians are in mission because God is “already present and active” in the world, bringing it unto himself. God’s mission, which God carries out in many different ways, includes the creative and healing activities happening in the world even though these actions may not always be under the umbrella of the church. Mission takes place through God’s participation in the sufferings of the world. This inclusive understanding of mission therefore places the loving, caring, judging, and compassionate presence and mission of God in the heart of all human affairs, despite all its ambiguities. 
2) Goal of mission: from conversion to transformation. The traditional approach is to set conversion as the ultimate goal of mission. However, aggressive models of evangelism have increased mistrust, animosity, and tension between religious communities. During the rehabilitation and relief work being done to and for the victims and survivors of the December 2004 tsunami in Indonesia, the efforts of some Christian groups were severely criticised. They had intentionally compelled orphaned children of Muslim families to accept the gospel message within the context of Christian orphanages. Mission today challenges the narrow notion of conversion. Conversion is the transformation activity of the Spirit in the lives of individuals and communities, leading them to a life orientated toward God and their neighbours.[10] 
3) Community of faith: from majority to minority. The traditional model of conversion is an imperialist and colonialist aspiration for church growth and development. The resurgence of denominationalism and the emphasis on church planting and church growth reminds us there is still a triumphalist desire to become the Christian majority: as if strength is measured by size or number. But churches need to relearn how to be at home as a minority community whose life is rooted in God, and whose life is lived in, for, and on behalf of the world. God will call us to account, not simply about numbers, but about how faithful we were in working for the transformation of the world to reflect God’s values of justice, love, and mercy. 
4) The content of mission: from doctrinal debates to spiritual concerns. Traditional mission paradigms have often focused on Christian apologetics, trying to convince others that our theological framework is superior to others. The result has been rivalry and animosity both within the Christian traditions and among different believers. Peace, reconciliation, and freedom from violence and oppression are deep spiritual longings. These spiritual concerns that transcend religious or denominational labels should help define the content of our mission today.[11] 
5) The practice of mission: from tokenism to genuine partnership. What is being done today in mission promotes a “recolonization of mission.” Missionaries arrive with money, buy land, and build churches and schools. They declare a desire to cooperate with national partners, but their actions too often create socioeconomic enclaves of independent behaviour. In some countries, missionaries have gone as business people setting up factories, taking advantage of cheap labour and resources. How can there be genuine partnership between people who are unequal right from the start? To be in solidarity is to stand alongside one another. It shares deeply the pain and hurt of the other, and requires sharing the burden of the other as if it were one’s own.[12]
6) Finality of mission: from liberation to reconciliation. Liberation and reconciliation share similarities: both are concerned about overcoming oppression and place the pursuit of justice at the heart of their activity. Both presume God acting in our history here and now and actively seek the opportunity to bring hope for better humanity by reference to the great biblical narratives. They also acknowledge the need to attend to the structural dimensions of oppression and conflict. However, reconciliation emphases on God’s role in healing and restoration and builds a framework for the future.[13]

Good stories entertain and inform. They stick with you for a long time and pop into your consciousness at strange moments. Shared stories play an important role within social movements. They unite people around common values and create a unifying vision of social transformation.[14]

There is a critical need to shift attitudinally form seeing mission as “doing something” to mission as discipleship formation. This discipleship framework considers all involved in the mission activity of God in the world as sisters and brothers in Christ. It demands a willingness to move toward mutual partnership models in which all partners learn from each other. If agencies and organisations working in the same areas simply “do their own thing” without talking to each other, there will be potential for duplication of resources and unhealthy competition for loyalty. When we reduce mission to what we can accomplish, we can miss the call of God on each of our lives, the call to become his disciples.[15] While much has been written about the professionalization of mission, “good” mission emerges out of genuine and authentic living. Better techniques, strategies, and practices will never replace humble human living. The witness of the church is always strongest when authenticity and powerlessness are its characteristics, when people live in the tension of faith and doubt but still act on what they believe. In Matthew 28:18-20, we are told that we will not be alone in our being sent by God, as God will be with and will empower the activity. Missional discipleship is a faith internalised and formed so that, while we fling ourselves into the world to make a difference, the difference is made by the One who sent us.[16] It takes great faith to be a disciple, because it is only the presence of Christ that will make obedience possible. Disciples cross cultural boundaries. We are to make disciples of all “nations”. “Nations” means cultural peoples or ethnic groups that are distinct and different. This means, the good news of the Gospel will transcend ethnic barriers and be translatable in a variety of ways culturally. The Gospel will be able to speak to all cultures because of its unlimited translatability. It will shape the church’s mission within the culture in which it is located.[17]

---

[1] Gary V. Nelson, Gordon W. King, and Terry G. Smith, Going Global: A Congregation’s Introduction to Mission beyond Our Borders (St. Louis: Chalice Press, 2011), 10.

[2] Nelson, King, and Smith, Going Global, 11.

[3] Nelson, King, and Smith, Going Global, 12.

[4] Philip Jenkins, The Next Christendom (New York: Oxford University Press, 2002), 56.

[5] Jenkins, The Next Christendom, 96.

[6] Nelson, King, and Smith, Going Global, 16.

[7] Nelson, King, and Smith, Going Global, 35.

[8] Jenkins, The Next Christendom, 204.

[9] Nelson, King, and Smith, Going Global, 53.

[10] Nelson, King, and Smith, Going Global, 54.

[11] Nelson, King, and Smith, Going Global, 55.

[12] Nelson, King, and Smith, Going Global, 56.

[13] Nelson, King, and Smith, Going Global, 57.

[14] Nelson, King, and Smith, Going Global, 80.

[15] Nelson, King, and Smith, Going Global, 142.

[16] Nelson, King, and Smith, Going Global, 146.

[17] Nelson, King, and Smith, Going Global, 147.

Transforming Trauma: A Path toward Wholeness (my notes)

It is mysterious that human suffering powerful enough to destroy life can also transform it. Sometimes those whose life experience is enough to leave anyone feeling broken beyond repair manage to have hope and an immeasurable depth of compassion for others. People who have lost loved ones risk reawakening the rawness of their grief by becoming supportive of others who are bereaved. History demonstrates that entire cultures subjected to the worst abuses imaginable have found hope for the future by honouring the memory of their past, daring to speak of reconciliation from the depths of their wound.[1] There is no one magic formula for healing in this mystery. Taken from the Greek tramatos, meaning an injury from an external source, trauma is the physical, spiritual and emotional wound caused by circumstances that are, in some way, a threat to life. The traumatic wound touches us as a whole: mind, body, and spirit. The threat of physical death is only one possibility. Emotional abandonment is equally devastating, especially when it happens in early life. A severed sense of connection with God can feel like spiritual annihilation. Betrayal of trust that leads to injury is a traumatic event. Trauma cannot begin to heal until safety is established, and only then as part of a lifelong process.[2] Trauma changes our assumptions of identity, safety, and relationship with the world. Whatever the source of trauma, healing takes shape in the act of breaking out of isolation and connecting with other people and the deeper meanings of human experience.[3] Transformation of the trauma requires holding in it the presence of a larger experience of reality that captures the cyclic nature of trauma, its life-threatening origins, and its paradoxical truths. The same underlying human resilience that saves one’s life (at the cost of a traumatic wound) becomes a passageway for new life.[4] There is a vital connection between how an individual recovers from trauma and the belief systems of the society or culture context in which that person lives.[5] A sudden, violent, or preventable physical death is traumatic for those left behind.[6] When the God I have cried out to for help seems to fail me, the loneliness is devastating. Fundamental to healing is recognizing one’s humanity, including limits and terrors in the face of death, and seeing through the wound. Pain held in a vacuum will never be able to be transformed.[7] Healing from trauma is as multi-dimensional as the wound itself: physical, psychological, and emotional aspects to the wound must be addressed.[8] Transforming trauma is impossible without spirituality: a belief in something more than what is currently seen or understood.[9] Some questions that needs to be asked are: How do we pray or feel ourselves in God’s presence when one of the fundamental elements of trauma is that trust has been ruptured? How do we make a reconnection with the God who knows our story, holds the memory, and gives us the gift of hope and belief in the future? How does the hollowness of trauma become the hallowed ground where we meet God in a transforming way?[10]

The stress response is important for survival as it helps us leap into action to get us out of harm’s way. However, once the danger has passed, if the stress response continues, this response actually becomes damaging on the emotional, physical and spiritual levels.[11] The blood that thickens in anticipation of needing to clot a wound and save life can also clog the arteries of the heart and cause death, particularly if there is an underlying genetic susceptibility to such illness. Prolonged stress causes fatigue, muscle tightness, and headaches. Sleep may become difficult or non-restorative. Long-term stress makes people more prone to illness because of immune system dysregulation.[12] Eating patterns are altered and people may have emotional outburst. Emotional and physical withdrawal from others is a sign of not having the resources to maintain interpersonal relationships. It also can impair memory and concentration.[13] Guilt about survival is common in circumstances where others have died. “Why not me?” can easily become as haunting a question as “Why me?” The feeling that others might have been saved if a different action had been taken, or if one had not acted in the interest of one’s own survival, runs counter to the reality that the trauma response is not national or planned in advance. At the heart of trauma is powerlessness, an inability to change the outcome of events for oneself or for other people. The first act in recovering from trauma is often the recognition that a normal reaction to unusual events is not a source of shame.[14]

The anxiety of PTSD is fed by the inability to keep what happened in the past from intruding into the present. The symptoms cluster in three groups: intrusion of the memories, constriction or numbing of feeling about the trauma, and arousal of the central nerve system. PTSD causes major disruption in all aspects of life, especially in interpersonal relationships.[15] Symptoms must persist for longer than three weeks. Most survivors of public traumatic events are able to function at a fairly high level, in part because so much attention is given to processing the trauma. Yet difficulties are common, and the memory continues to impact the present. The wound remains deep, even after people have moved beyond some of their initial responses to the trauma.[16] The healing process begins not with trying to push the symptoms away, but rather with trying to understand and befriend them for the great protection they have been. These symptoms are not sign of weakness or failure. The transition requires mercy on oneself for not having acted any differently during the trauma itself, on others for their responses to the distress, and on humanity for the evil capacity that trauma so often reveals. Making peace with memory requires respecting the reactions and processes at work in the face of trauma as in service of life, not proof of hysteria or some type of failure.[17]

Dissociation is the experience of not being present to reality as a way of maintaining an illusion of safety. It is a common form of defence that is taken to an extreme in traumatic situations.[18] It not only occurs on an individual level but can also occur on the social and cultural level. Robert J. Liften interviewed people in Hiroshima and Nagasaki who had survived the nuclear bombs and noted a general lack of emotion in describing the initial destruction of the attack and the subsequent loss of life from radiation-induced diseases. The long-term danger of numbing of emotions lies in the fact that individuals who cannot process their pain suffer greatly and humanity as a whole is deprived of the opportunity of learning the actual consequences of actions.[19] 

Recollection of trauma often feels like a terrible flood that has the power to destroy life.[20] Both flashbacks and intrusive memories are the reality of the wound breaking through consciousness. It has been suggested that part of the reason intrusive symptoms present as they do stems from the fact that memories of events that happen in moments of extreme stress must work their way from implicit to explicit memory. Intrusive symptoms are part of a process that seeks to restore equilibrium by bringing dissociated material to consciousness. The disruptive symptoms are a signal that the traumatic material is in need of attention.[21] Trauma in childhood interrupts the natural flow of development that initiates and strengthens the very resources required to face future threats in an intact way. A traumatised child will have great difficulty establishing a sense of agency or personal empowerment in life. The elements most needed in dealing with trauma, including establishing a support system, retaining hope for the future, and practicing healthy habits, are the ones most impacted by childhood trauma.[22] The claiming of dissociated memory, the restoration of social connections, and the creation of reliable areas of safety are all part of the healing process and become its first fruits.[23] Memories that leads back into bitterness and violence is itself damaging because it is impossible to grow beyond the power of the events themselves. There is always a reason to look for someone to blame and to try and exact revenge in the face of the inexplicable. Much more is required for compassion to be born: it is a holding of the truth in a self-forgiving way. Nothing can change what has happened. The memory is just a recollection, not ongoing fact. Memory that is properly recognised can become a source of life.[24]

Grief can refer both to the damage or injury inflicted and the process of recovery from that injury.[25] Grief shuts down the body’s normal appetites and desires: loss of appetite, unable to rest, diminished sex drive, concentration and focus are numbed. Grief deepens the knowledge that are no guarantees in life, and that what we expect in the future may not come to pass.[26] The most familiar model for the stages of grief include: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. The cycle does not progress neatly and is a process.[27] When there is an accident or disaster, there is always eerie coincidences of people who would have been there if they hadn’t missed the boat, stayed home sick, or been stuck in traffic. The survivors would be thanking God for mercy, but there is always a question that haunts[28]: what of those who were not saved, who made the launch of the ship, who were at the point of impact? Did God choose for them to die for a purpose?[29] The need to find a reason for injury or survival is a defensive strategy. If only there is a reason, or a mistake can be identified and judgment made, the reality of lost control and powerlessness can be avoided.[30] Bargaining is: I do not yet know how things are going to work out; I will attempt to influence the outcome in some way. Ultimately, the bargaining will fail because there is no way to reverse the loss. Nothing can change reality and so a way to live with it must be found. With the loss of bargaining power comes total vulnerability, and with it comes another choice: how to live in the presence and reality of the loss.[31] Depression is the process of withering, the loss of energy for day-to-day activities. The perception that it is better to be dead than to face the pain of a loss should be taken seriously. It is wise to get professional help because it is a medical condition that can be effectively treated.[32] 

The orphan trains was a controversial historical social service movement in the US from 1850-1929[33], which transports children without proper adult care to the west to be adopted by families. Many children found good homes, but many others were adopted only for the labour they provide. Siblings were separated. Some sickly children travelled the length of the train lines and were consistently rejected for adoption. Oral histories taken fifty years after the last orphan train revealed that the grief of the orphan train children was closely held inside or consciously ignored. Many of those children discovered the intensity of their grief only later in life when threatened again with separation.[34] 

Victor Frankl was a psychiatrist whose work was deeply influenced by his experience in a concentration camp. He pointed out that human beings have a fundamental need to believe in the future, not just a hope for one’s individual future but an embrace of future possibilities for humanity. If that belief is lost, it is impossible to live well in the present, and perhaps impossible to live at all. When trauma destroys belief in the future, there is no container for grief and so it remains unprocessed and grows in power. Any reminder of the loss and anything that awakens the grief is to be avoided.[35] “Death ends a life, but not a relationship.” Relationships continue beyond the grave. If a relationship was one of great pain, grieving for that relationship is a complex process, because hope of the situation ever improving has been extinguished by the death. Without the experience of grief there can be no letting into consciousness the reality of relationships, events, and their losses, and so no surrender to the new reality.[36] When the prophets of the Hebrew Scriptures expressed profound grief for the losses of their people, it invokes the memory of God’s fidelity and opens up the possibility for a new way of understanding and living. Grief acknowledges that a link has been severed: living into that truth frees the soul to believe again in the future and to imagine a new possibility.[37] The greatest act of faith for those encountering grief is to stand in its presence and make no attempts to explain it away. Only then is grief freed to reveal its imaginative possibilities, the most vital of which is the desire to love again.[38]

Traumatic grief follows a loss so devastating that it evokes the trauma response, whereby there are intrusive, avoidance and arousal symptoms. These usually result from sudden or unexpected events. Sometimes there is a denial of the circumstances of the death, eg. A suicide becomes an accidental drowning, etc. Denial creates impacted grief.[39] This type of grief, like material dissociated form memory, lives in its own protected space within the body and mind. It cannot come to the surface, but its presence presses against consciousness and sometimes causes damage to the surrounding tissues of relationships. If there is no opportunity for expression at the time of loss, impacted grief can become disconnected from its source. The awakening of grief is then confusing and traumatic in its own right.[40] Social withdrawal is common in all forms of grief but in traumatic grief it is a greater impairment. The healing of traumatic grief requires that the symptoms of intrusion, avoidance, and arousal be acknowledged and stabilised. The trauma symptoms need to be addressed before engaging in the process of working with the grief itself. To stabilise the symptoms is to open the possibility for healing of the grief. Then the transformation of grief into a process of living again begins to occur.[41] Traumatic grief has a particularly strong component of guilt that makes it seem disloyal to feel better and go on with life. The pain itself can be understood as a way of keeping the lost person alive.[42] Witnesses to trauma must be willing to step into the void of having no answers, solutions, or understanding of something that cannot and will not be explained away. The most compassionate witnesses of all are the ones who have shared similar experiences and are living testimony to the possibility, instead the reality, of survival.[43]

Anger is an emotion that is as natural to humanity as fear, joy or sadness. It is a natural response to threat. When wounded, animals become angry and frightened in order to protect themselves and survive. Human anger is similar: it is meant to mobilise us for definition and survival. It can be a protective crust of a tender wound. Feeling and expressing anger protects the heart from feeling its pain and grief.[44] Like impacted grief, anger needs to be respected and used as energy for change.[45] Anger provoked by trauma can be especially threatening because it feels out of control.[46] Anger must run its course along pathways and time periods that are not of our choosing.[47] Anger calls for creativity in its expression so that the energy not only will break the silence of trauma, but will be directed to daring to fight like hell for the living. This is the anger that creates a new and safer world.[48]

When the evil of events is simply beyond what can be understood and there is no penitence on the part of the perpetrator, forgiveness and reconciliation are not possible. Under such circumstances it is wrong to press people to forgive their abusers. The hope of authentic forgiveness always originates with the wronged party, who must be able to see the humanity of the other through an acknowledgement of evil.[49]

The most powerful hunger for God is known in the feeling of seeming absence.[50] The seeming loss of God is, in actuality, a passage into a deeper relationship with the God who is beyond our projections, images or understanding. The loss of the image of a protective God carries with it the experience of presence in the midst of the human reality of suffering. The intellectual understanding or familiar image of God is challenged by trauma.[51]

Through our embrace of life’s wounds, each of us can offer others our tiny bit of manna for the journey toward wholeness.[52] None of us can create the Promised Land where there will be no more suffering or sorrow. Still, within the wound there is the capacity for hope for nothing less than communion with the mysteriously compassionate and wounded God. The nature of God’s wound is the passionate fire of living memory; the I AM of human history. It is the energy of transformation.[53]

---

[1] Teresa Rhodes McGee, Transforming Trauma: A Path toward Wholeness (Maryknoll: New York, 2005), xi.

[2] McGee, Transforming Trauma, xii.

[3] McGee, Transforming Trauma, xiii.

[4] McGee, Transforming Trauma, xiv.

[5] McGee, Transforming Trauma, xv.

[6] McGee, Transforming Trauma, 13.

[7] McGee, Transforming Trauma, 14.

[8] McGee, Transforming Trauma, 16.

[9] McGee, Transforming Trauma, 17.

[10] McGee, Transforming Trauma, 18.

[11] McGee, Transforming Trauma, 22.

[12] McGee, Transforming Trauma, 24.

[13] McGee, Transforming Trauma, 25.

[14] McGee, Transforming Trauma, 28.

[15] McGee, Transforming Trauma, 33.

[16] McGee, Transforming Trauma, 34.

[17] McGee, Transforming Trauma, 36.

[18] McGee, Transforming Trauma, 40.

[19] McGee, Transforming Trauma, 44.

[20] McGee, Transforming Trauma, 51.

[21] McGee, Transforming Trauma, 57.

[22] McGee, Transforming Trauma, 66.

[23] McGee, Transforming Trauma, 67.

[24] McGee, Transforming Trauma, 70.

[25] McGee, Transforming Trauma, 74.

[26] McGee, Transforming Trauma, 75.

[27] McGee, Transforming Trauma, 76.

[28] McGee, Transforming Trauma, 79.

[29] McGee, Transforming Trauma, 80.

[30] McGee, Transforming Trauma, 80.

[31] McGee, Transforming Trauma, 81.

[32] McGee, Transforming Trauma, 83.

[33] McGee, Transforming Trauma, 83.

[34] McGee, Transforming Trauma, 84.

[35] McGee, Transforming Trauma, 87.

[36] McGee, Transforming Trauma, 88.

[37] McGee, Transforming Trauma, 89.

[38] McGee, Transforming Trauma, 90.

[39] McGee, Transforming Trauma, 93.

[40] McGee, Transforming Trauma, 94.

[41] McGee, Transforming Trauma, 95.

[42] McGee, Transforming Trauma, 96.

[43] McGee, Transforming Trauma, 97.

[44] McGee, Transforming Trauma, 100.

[45] McGee, Transforming Trauma, 101.

[46] McGee, Transforming Trauma, 103.

[47] McGee, Transforming Trauma, 105.

[48] McGee, Transforming Trauma, 114.

[49] McGee, Transforming Trauma, 133.

[50] McGee, Transforming Trauma, 152.

[51] McGee, Transforming Trauma, 154.

[52] McGee, Transforming Trauma, 158.

[53] McGee, Transforming Trauma, 159.