Oh, Sufferah Children of Jah: Unpacking the Rastafarian Rejection of Traditional Theodicies

1 Articulating Rasta theodicies

This section maintains that the theological perspectives of RastafarI continue to be under-researched in the Caribbean context with perhaps more attention being paid to their contributions to the racial, musical and linguistic traditions of the region. In particular, there has been little sustained theological reflection on Rasta theologies of suffering, especially theodicy (Blatter, “Chunt Down the Babylon” is the noted exception. Jagessar, “The Sacred in Caribbean Literature” also does a brief reflection on RastafarI theodicy in literature as counter to the western theodicy.). The lack of discourse on the Rasta theodicy may be because theodicy is not as clearly articulated as other elements of the Rastafarian belief system such as the divinity of Emperor Haile Selassie. This muted articulation is impacted by the significant diversity of belief and theology among RastafarI mansions and individuals concerning core doctrine and practice, even dreadlocks.^[17] So the purpose and meaning of suffering among Rasta would be no less diverse even as it may not be fully or well-articulated. Indeed, Owens notes that “there are several more or less complementary doctrines which are put forth to explain their painful circumstances.”^[18] Therefore, to approach RastafarI theodicies requires a careful assemblage of perspectives from within the literature. The attempt to do so gives heuristic coherence to a complex reality.

2 Suffering and evil in Caribbean theology

At the same time, “the problem of suffering, evil and the role of a good God need re-working in Caribbean theology.”^[19] Recognising this, this exploration takes as its starting point two prior theological pieces, which attempt to wrestle with the problem of evil and suffering from a Caribbean perspective: “Just Desert or Just Deserts?: God and Suffering in these Perilous Days”^[20] and “The Wages of (Sin) is Babylon: Rasta Versus Christian Religious Perspectives of Sin;”^[21] the former reflection highlights the insufficiency of traditional theodicy to answer the question: “if God is good, why does evil exist?” It concludes that no one answer can do justice to the many dimensions of the question. In that regard, the author (Perkins) argues for attention to the important “answer” that the radical suffering perspective offers to the discussion^[22] (Similarly, Indian theologian Sarah Anderson Rajarigam emphasises divine suffering or theopathos as the response to radical suffering. She frames theopathos not just as an option within theodicy but as an alternative to theodicy, which she calls “the spoilt child of enlightenment that self-destructively craves for theoretical and philosophical remedies for radical human suffering.”^[23]).

In the second exploration, Perkins explicates a particular Rasta understanding of sin and evil, which are important elements of any theodicy.^[24] For Rasta, sin is tri-dimensional – personal, inherited and corporate. Sin in its corporate or social dimension is the most salient as it is moral evil – a rejection of Jah’s will – which leads to the oppression of Jah’s people and enormous amounts of suffering [sufferation]. Many Rastas respond to this by evoking the power of words to chant down the Babylon Shitstem or even embark on revolution against it. In contrast, for other Rastas, the Rastaman has a duty to respond to suffering patiently, knowing that Jah is in charge and will bring vindication in his own time. Clearly, there is a tension between the required responses to corporate sin/evil – revolutionary chanting down which has the power to destroy the Babylon Shitsem or patient waiting on Jah. It is not a tension easily resolved.

3 Theologies of suffering for the Caribbean

James Keenan, American catholic theologian, citing Eric Cassell, describes suffering as “the distress brought about by the actual or perceived impending threat to the integrity or continued existence of the whole person.”^[25] Suffering is engendered by the loss of the ability to pursue one’s purpose, which entails a good that is of significance in life. The loss of such a good results in a diminishing of well-being and relatedness to others. “Thus, when people suffer, they find themselves marginalized from those who enjoy the very goods they have lost or were hoping would be theirs.”^[26] Suffering calls out for meaning and God is called upon to give answer, as the biblical Book of Job illustrates. One way to render suffering meaningful is to trace its genesis to some “order of reality” where events and processes can be held responsible for suffering.^[27] In the religious sphere, this meaningfulness is sought in the permissive will of the divine who allows suffering for a reason.

One example of a traditional Christian attempt to render suffering meaningful is Jamaican Marie Reynolds. Reynolds argues that “a theology of suffering and a theology of poverty are vitally needed to address these realities of Caribbean experience,” which is rife with suffering and poverty.^[28] She questions, in this regard, “What is God’s message to those who are in the throes of suffering and poverty, and how may God be speaking through them? What does such an existence say concerning the nature and character of God [i.e., theodicy]?”^[29] Reynolds then presents a typical conservative answer to the theodicy question. Using a paraphrase and gloss on several verses from various books of the Hebrew Bible, she argues for God’s dominion over the “kingdoms of the world.”

God is therefore able to use for His purposes what human beings intend for evil: Hence, even though the Caribbean nation is rooted in the brutality of slavery and the oppression of colonisation, God can use the people thus gathered for His good purpose. Perhaps God would use this region to demonstrate the eschatological throne room wherein people from every nation, tongue and tribe will gather to honor and glorify His name in a celebratory hymn of praise.^[30]

God can use the melting pot of the Caribbean created by the brutality of slavery to demonstrate that, in the end times, a similar diversity of people will be gathered together worshipping God in the heavens. Reynolds, simultaneously, holds that God scattered the peoples of the Caribbean into slavery when they flouted God’s cultural or dominion mandate but, nonetheless, still created with them a beautiful mosaic which prefigures the eschatological throne room. What is lost in such a discourse is that it in effect blames the ancestors of Afro- and Indo-Caribbean peoples for their oppression and the current condition of their descendants (merited inherited punishment). This is not a singular belief as many Christians and some Rastas hold a similar perspective, as is discussed below. Slavery and oppression are therefore the justifiable consequences of the actions and activities of the children of Ham.^[31] This “explanation” leaves open the question of innocent suffering – how to make sense of the suffering being experienced by the descendants of the formerly enslaved and indentured Caribbean people. Reynolds does not face that question directly but affirms God as the sovereign and author of all nations and so he brings them together to deliver their cultural mandate (redemptive suffering), regardless of the circumstances. Unfortunately, this explanation lets the oppressors as well as individual wrongdoers off the hook while engaging in victim blaming. It cannot effectively deal with radical suffering.

4 Concerns with traditional theodicies

Keenan identifies the deepest concern of the religious response to suffering as the desire to overcome it. He acknowledges that “there has been an excess of suffering and evil in [human history].”^[32] This “excess of suffering” is highlighted by Anderson Rajarigam as she explores the experiences of Jews, Blacks and Dalits. In the face of such excess, Keenan argues that suffering remains incomprehensible and impenetrable for Christians. He therefore attempts to correct what he identifies as the false impression promoted by Christians that suffering is the expression of the will of a loving God. Keenan presents redemptive suffering to help another as a primary model of divine love as the counter perspective. Even so, Keenan believes that there is too much trust in the distinction between merited and unmerited suffering.

Anderson Rajarigam argues that contemporary theologians have shifted away from a focus on natural evil to moral evil, which places evil and the suffering it engenders in a more political framework. In addition, she argues that contemporary theologians have avoided the pitfalls of theodicy by their focus on divine suffering or theopathos. She frames theopathos not just as an option within theodicy but as an alternative to theodicy. Anderson Rajarigam further notes that, given the highly contextual nature of theological reflections, it is possible to identify traditional theodicy as gendered and thus deeply reflective of male interests and conditioned by male experiences. Such theodicies are riven through with questions of power, yet, like Keenan, she does not believe God’s power and goodness can be justified as compatible with evil.

In a similar vein, Jamaican-descended British-born theologian Delroy Hall too raises “the uncertain nature of theodicy” from which arises questions regarding suffering, God’s justice and the treatment of people created in the image of God.^[33] In particular, Hall maintains that the subject of theodicy raises problematic questions and concerns for Black people in Britain and elsewhere. Hall therefore identifies a racial politics embedded in traditional theodicies. He goes on to reframe theodicy using the motif of crucifixion, as highly meaningful to Afro-descended British people.

Anderson Rajarigam, in contrast, in launching a critique of theodicy as patriarchal, maintains that “while the reality of evil is extremely conscious of both gender and race the same cannot be said of suffering.”^[34] According to her, in radical suffering, the loss of human dignity is so profound that both “race and gender disappear and we stand as helpless beings.”^[35] Furthermore, to talk about gender in suffering is to see suffering as less than dehumanising since such features of our humanity remain intact. Not to recognise how radically dehumanising suffering is, is to fall into the trap of the various theodicies she rejects as minimising the reality of radical evil brought about by human agency or anthropodicy. This stance has deep resonances with a RastafarI theology of suffering even as that particular theodicy, which like Hall, is highly conscious of race and its impact on the suffering of many. In so doing, even as it is necessary to acknowledge how abject radical suffering renders the victim, it continues to find race meaningful in both excessive suffering and evil. Race is the reason for radical suffering even if such suffering has the potential to deracinate having reduced the sufferah to the abject. At the same time, it is not to be overlooked that Rasta itself is deeply patriarchal and so gives expression to gendered notions that impact ways of theologising that are exclusive of women, hence the reference to the Rastaman throughout. This is an area of significance for further theological reflection, particularly as it relates to human dignity and the possibilities of salvation.

5 RastafarI theologies of evil and suffering

6 Punishment for faithlessness

At the same time, in a parallel theodicy, similar to Marie Reynold’s conservative theodicy, Jah’s children are implicated in their own suffering. Indeed, Owens notes that, consistent with Judeo-Christian theodicy, Rastafarians maintain that Africans of the Diaspora had been taken into slavery and scattered by Jah for turning their backs on Jah (merited suffering). As discussed previously, this punishment is meted out to generations coming after (inherited unmerited suffering). This accords with Rasta’s sense of justice, which sees each one paid according to his work. It is incumbent upon Rasta, therefore, as Owens contends, to “strive to be ever more faithful to their God, in the hope that he will release them from their torment and lead them to the New Jerusalem.”^[53] Of course, this sense of just recompense is better applied individually and directly, and its corporate application expresses the solidarity between ancestors and descendants. However, it falls short in giving meaning to the radical suffering - whether individual or corporate that - results from innocent suffering. Nonetheless, the advent of the Divine Emperor signalled forgiveness and expiation of sin. Consequently, the end of Rasta’s suffering is near but not yet.

7 Doing good

Such experiences of unmerited suffering are not a thing of the past; the rights of Rasta have been and continue to be violated, as is heard time and again in the powerful lyrics of Reggae and other forms of Jamaican popular music. When Rastas are persecuted for doing the good and the right, they experience unmerited suffering.^[57] Suffering can indeed be a consequence for doing good. The good man’s suffering is caused by the evil powers of Babylon abroad in the world. This can perhaps be recast as redemptive suffering and this may be mirrored in the move, in some instances, to valorise the individual Rastaman as hero or prophet.^[58] Nonetheless, the response to such unmerited suffering has been seeming acceptance but also calls for revolution through the use of Word, Sound and Power.^[59] Nowhere, however, does the possibility of theopathos emerge as a fully formed doctrine.

8 Learning from suffering

Suffering does not therefore remain meaningless or opaque as some Rastas see suffering as a tool for learning, learning the truth about himself: “One would learn from suffering. It is a regenerating thing, you see. One would recognise what one is, who one is (Catman).”^[60] One such truth is that suffering is inevitable for Children of Jah – Oh Sufferah Children. The same forces that arrayed themselves against the Emperor also persecute his children who are marked by this suffering. Perhaps there is an implicit ontology that marks out Rastas as inherently sufferahs. Such suffering is meaningful as only suffering children can truly know Jah. “[T]he people that is of the lineage of Jah is always a suffering people” (Teddy).^[61] Ironically, this personal current in the Rasta theologies of suffering echoes the traditional theodicies of merited suffering and so fall prey a similar critique concerning the incoherence of traditional theodicies and radical suffering.

9 Some concluding thoughts

Blatter makes the bold claim that the Rasta theodicy is unique as it does not legitimise or provide meaning for the social injustices they face; rather it socialises Rasta to reject the status quo, oftentimes with the power of words, while proposing an alternate vision for society. This is expressed through the powerful Reggae rhythms through which Rastas “chant down Babylon” and “sight-up a new Jerusalem – Ethiopia.” Blatter’s claim does not stand up to scrutiny, given the direction of modern theodicies, which, as Anderson Rajarigam demonstrates, have maintained a focus on moral evil, theopathos and anthropodicy. This emphasis on both the incompatibility of traditional theodicies with God and the recognition of human, especially corporate responsibility for suffering is significant to Rasta’s rejection of theodicy, however. Rasta reflections on suffering, however, have not completely escaped the consternations of traditional theodicies, even as they very contextually wrestle with the human causes of excessive suffering, particularly in its historical corporate or systemic form.

There is something to be said for the way radical or excessive suffering strips a person of their very human dignity without losing sight of the kinds of suffering that result from social injustice that are aimed at groups of persons – Black, female, poor and Rasta. In particular, Rasta theodicies could further bear sustained reflections on a theopathos as they grope after the meaningfulness of excessive suffering, which continues to be the lot of Rastas. Doing so may prove difficult, however, as Jah RastafarI is “ever living, ever faithful, ever sure” and apparently impassible. Importantly, the question of the effectiveness of the RastafarI challenge to mainstream society is debatable, especially given the fact that Rasta has become institutionalised within Jamaican society; this has led to them being marginalised as a force for societal change. While they “evolved from the underclass” to become “vehicles of protest,” having been largely co-opted, they are less influential agents of change.^[62] Indeed, Miller maintains that “in the process, the change agent has itself been changed.”^[63]