So, now that I am immersed in theological education, once again, full time, I have decided to start posting here again. A lot of questions are raised in my mind, so I am going to try to sort through them here. Feel free to join me on the journey. Below is a paper I submitted that addresses some of the questions that my most recent reading has brought to mind. Hopefully it is clear enough so that even if you have not read these particular pieces, you can at least understand the questions that push their way to the forefront and maybe join me in a dialogue of how we are to make sense of it all. So, here are my most-recent thoughts: (EDIT: This is showing up a bit funky on my screen. Why? I don't know. It might just be the resolution of the laptop, but forgive me for any unnecessary line breaks.)

The concept of suffering, according to William Placher, is central to
Christianity. Placher identifies Christianity as a religion rooted in
vulnerability, evidenced in the life of Christ, and as a religion that calls us
to be vulnerable and to suffer. Jon Sobrino also highlights the role of
suffering within Christianity, particularly in Christian theology.
Sobrino, focusing on “the sufferings of people who are being crucified,” asserts
that the role of theology is “to take these people down from the cross.”
Although both of these authors put the concept of suffering at the forefront of
their writing, they seem to be suggesting different things. Therefore,
this raises the question: To what extent do we “take up our cross” to be
“crucified with Christ,” and to what extent do we aim to end suffering?
Perhaps the call on one’s life when becoming a Christian is different depending
upon one’s social position. Am I—a white, middle-class, woman living in
the United States—called to step down from my position of privilege in the world
and suffer among the suffering? It is scripturally evident that the
systems we live in are turned upside down by Christ, as it states “The last
shall be first and the first shall be last.” Therefore, the call to
suffer—to come and be crucified—is to those who, previously, have done the
crucifying. I am called to suffer, and in turn, to live among the
suffering. Yet, how do I enter into a life of suffering? Jürgen
Moltmann speaks of “suffering God,” as God hides God’s face from us and forsakes
us as Christ was forsaken on the cross. However, how does this speak to
those who have already suffered? Does it only speak to those who, directly
or indirectly, have caused others to suffer? Trying to make sense of this, my
tentative conclusion is that any power my social location gives me is not my
own; it is not to promote myself. Instead, any power I possess due to my
race, wealth, or geographical location is used on my neighbor—to touch the
suffering and free them from the elements that cause them to suffer.

Just as the idea of suffering appears to take on different meanings
depending on one’s social location, the response to plurality and difference
also elicits different responses. For example, María Pilar Aquino
recognizes the role of Latina women in feminist theology, but she does not
advocate branching off by identifying oneself as a mujerista. She
advocates the intensified impact feminist theologians of all backgrounds can
have when they stay within the broader, diverse category of feminist theology.
Under this one umbrella of feminist theology, there are many voices and a
variety of experiences. Yet, ultimately, they are all speaking toward one
goal. In contrast to Aquino, Peter C. Phan seems to emphasize the idea of
difference within liberation theology. He goes as far as not suggesting a
single theology of liberation, which brings freedom to all people, but instead,
he refers to liberation theologies. Phan notes black theology, white
feminist theology, mujerista theology, and queer theology. He identifies
them all as theologies of liberation, but he seems to preserve their
distinctiveness rather than their commonalities. Therefore, questions
emerge. To what extent do we work within a larger group for greater
effectiveness? To what extent do we preserve the factors that make us
different from others by setting ourselves apart from a group and to what extent
do we merge them with others’ differences? The dilemma lies in the
importance of acknowledging one’s self—one’s race, gender, sexual orientation—in
theology, versus isolating one’s self from other groups who are working toward
the similar goal of inclusion and liberation.

The aforementioned issues are intricately woven together as we engage in
theology. How a woman, a Latina, or a gay or lesbian does theology in one
location might look differently than a woman, Latina, or gay or lesbian in
another location. The role of suffering within my own life, might,
therefore, be different than the role of suffering in the life of a woman living
in Middle Eastern culture. It appears that we approach theological
discourse with a goal in mind—the goal of promoting love, liberation, and
justice. However, the methodologies and strategies in achieving this goal
are dependent upon our social location—where we are and when we are there.

Feel free to give me some insight.