[What follows is the transcript of a paper I presented at the theology pub night hosted by Nexus, a church of sorts, in Kitchener.  The conversation that followed was gracious, thoughtful, and enjoyable, so many thanks to those who were willing to engage in this subject matter with me.  Truth be told, although much is abbreviated here, I feel that what I express here summarizes a lot of what I have come to believe based upon my education and experiences over the last twelve or so years.  I also believe that it points the way forward in terms of the avenues that I believe are most worth pursuing if (a) one is committed to the pursuit of life-giving change or (b) one somehow identifies with the Jesus movement.]
A Call to Abundant Life: A Manifesto Against Death
If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it (MK 8.34-35).
We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be made visible in our bodies. For while we live, we are always being give up to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus may be made visible in our mortal flesh. So death is at work in us, but life in you (2 Cor 4.8-12).
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Continuing on with further tips for those who want to work with people who are experiencing homelessness.  In my last post I talked about topics related to personal transformation (faking it versus working on changing) and ways in which a person can learn when they are new on the job.  Here, I’m going to offer a few points that may seem obvious but, sadly, are lacking all too often.  I’ll probably have one more post after this one and that’ll wrap up this series.
(4) If you say you’re going to do something, do it promptly and do it well.
People who are clients of social services regularly deal with staff members who say one thing but do another.  This occurs for a lot of reasons: social services are underfunded, workers end up with “case loads” that are absurdly large and so, all to often, workers end up simply prioritizing what they take to be the most “life-and-death” matters and end up in perpetual crisis management (which means the chance of the worker looking up what your rights are with welfare, or helping you work on your resume and train for job interviews, are pretty slim… even though these things can, at times, be “life-and-death” for people).  Other workers are simply burned out.  They avoid clients.  All they want to do is get through the shift and go home.  Other workers didn’t take the time to do the learning I mentioned in the last post, so they don’t know how to help you and — since they didn’t bother learning how to do this in the first place — they probably won’t learn it now.  Instead, they’re going to try and avoid you or say things like “Yeah, I haven’t been able to find out anything about that yet but I’ve been looking around and will get back to you when I do”.  Or they’ll claim that there is no help for your situation, even though they haven’t determined if that is or is not the case.
As for those who are overwhelmed, when they finally do remember that they had committed to doing something, they are probably remembering because you are sitting in front of them or are scheduled to meet with them in the next ten minutes… so they’ll rush through something, do a half-assed job, just to get it done so that they can move on to the next 10,000 items on their to-do lists.
All the clients are very aware of this treatment.  In many ways, it is actually the norm.  That doesn’t mean people are happy about this.  It’s part of the reason why clients conclude that workers are useless fucks who don’t actually care about the people whom they are claiming to serve.  In my opinion, this is actually a pretty valid conclusion.  “Care” isn’t an emotion somebody feels or a story people tell themselves about themselves.  Care is what people do.  If you do nothing, it doesn’t matter what you feel — you don’t actually care.
This means a few things.  First, don’t say you are going to do something and then not do it.  And don’t do a half-assed job when you do it.  You’re supposed to be a professional, right?  Second, if you follow through on what you say you are going to do — if you promptly and professionally follow through and your commitments, you will quickly gain the respect and trust of the clients.  It’s kinda sad that something so basic — that should be taken for granted — ends up being one of the things that sets the really good workers apart from the others but that’s the fact of the matter.
Of course, if you commit to helping with something, doing something, or looking into something and you are not sure how to progress it’s okay to ask for help.  That’s part of the reason why you work on a team.  Maybe you’ve got one team member who knows welfare legislation really well, another team member who knows tenancy rights really well, and so on.  That means that you don’t have to become an expert in all areas (although you should have a working knowledge of all relevant areas and, more importantly, know where you need to go to learn more about specific situations).  This leads to my next point:
(5) Be a team player.
Okay, so this is something of another truism in any work environment but it doesn’t actually translate into practice in a lot of places and when you’re working in an agency where emotions will run high and, at times, crises occur, I need to spell out a bit of what I mean by this.
In my last post, I already talked about the importance of being open to criticism.  This is an important part of being able to work as a team.  Beyond that, you need to be able to disagree with others and have others disagree with you — sometimes passionately, even — without that causing you to lose respect for others and without that causing people to hold back and withdraw from conversations.  For me, vocal passionate disagreement is one of the things I look for in a healthy team.  Some teams are dominated by one or two people.  Some teams are scared to go against management or speak in a way that challenges them.  Both of these scenarios produce an artificial peace and the illusion of cohesion.  True team work is being able to disagree with one another and, even if disagreements still persist after a discussion, being able to respect one another regardless of the final outcome or the positions taken by various members.
Here’s something I needed to realize along the way: the agency actually runs far better because there is a diversity of opinions here.  If everybody thought exactly the same way as me, this place would probably go down in flames.
I think that’s true of any one perspective.  Nobody has this shit figured out perfectly — maybe one person knows how to run a smooth operation but the cost of that is not meeting the identified needs of the clients, maybe another person is actually client-centred (a rare thing to find despite all the contemporary rhetoric being pumped out about this!) but doesn’t know how to make that work in a community setting, and so on and so forth.  We need one another and we need to disagree with one another.  We need to know when we’re wrong and, at times, we need to bow to the opinion of others even when we think we are right (notably, to those older, more experienced, well-respected workers I mentioned earlier — and, for the record, the generally excludes management, so I’m not talking about bowing down to them simply because they’re the bosses).
Essentially, being a team player means treating your team members with the same respect you claim to have for clients.  It means caring for one another.  If somebody is having a hard time, it means taking some of their work on.  If somebody is breaking down, it means pooling together to buy him or her a spa day or a massage or something special.  It means having one another’s backs.  And trusting that others have your back as well.
It also means resolving conflicts amongst yourselves as much as possible.  It means thinking about which team members are best for the clients and prioritizing that, rather than thinking about which team members do or do not follow all the rules (more on that later).
(6)  Show weakness, be vulnerable, admit mistakes. Be human.
Okay, I know that I’ve stressed a need for “professionalism” in some of my earlier points.  You need to know your job and you need to do it well.  However, that doesn’t mean you won’t make mistakes along the way.  You will.  Everybody does.  When you do make a mistake, admit it to the client.  Don’t make excuses and don’t avoid the conversation.  You may think this will cause you to lose respect (and, hey, if it happens EVERY time you try to do something, it will produce that result, but maybe you should be looking at another job if that’s the case), but it will actually cause people to respect you more.  It will turn you from a flawless robotic professional (which we all know is an illusion anyway) into a human being.  It will show people you respect them enough to be human with them — and when you show that kind of respect to people it tends to be returned.  Show vulnerability.  Be honest.  For some reason, everybody thinks being a “professional” means lying to clients (“it’s in their own best interest,” blah, blah, blah).  Don’t do that.
That said — if a person responds to your admission of error with anger, don’t lash back and don’t try to take back what you said.  You screwed up.  Own it.  Giving a person a space to be angry (with you in this case), can also be a really wonderful bridge to a better relationship (this was one of the things that surprised me the most when I started in this field — see here for more about that… wow, can’t believe that link is seven years old already…).

Bit of a digression from the usual mix of topics I write about but some recent happenings have made me want to jot this down.  What follows are a few tips for those wanting to work with people experiencing homelessness in some sort of charitable institution or social service agency.  This will be the first in a short series of post.
(1)  Don’t pretend to be somebody you are not.
Maybe you haven’t been street-involved, maybe you’re just a kind person, a religious do-gooder, a social work student just coming out of school, or a person who got tired of the rat race and wanted to switch to a job that felt more “meaningful.”  That’s okay.  Don’t feel intimidated by co-workers that have way more professional experience, relevant knowledge, or who have had life experiences that are similar to those of the people whom you desire to serve.  You may feel like you need to put on a front and pretend that you’re “harder” or have more “street smarts” than you actually have.  Maybe you’ll even start talking all the street or prison argot like you know what you’re talking about.  Don’t do that.
Faking who you are is one of the worst things you can do.  A lot of the folks you are wanting to serve have learned to read people really well — when you’re on the street, in and out of jail, have spent a lot of time interacting with various social services and their staff members, or coming from various experiences of violence, marginality, and vulnerability, you can develop a good instinct about who is sincere and who is not.  If you’re a faker, you’re going to lose the respect of the people whom you are trying to serve and they’ll put up with you but they won’t want to be around you (and your co-workers might feel the same way, depending on their patience level).
(2) Don’t remain who you are or have been.
Change.  This is different than faking things.  This is learning to be a different kind of person.  Learn to be in relationships with people who are different than you and who (previously) may have made you feel awkward, annoyed, or scared.  In fact, seek out the people who scare you and prioritize getting to know them.  Doing that, you’ll learn about stereotypes that are embedded within you, even though you think you’re a wonderfully open-minded person.  For example, I remember when I first started working with street-involved young people in Toronto — I realized that I was “naturally” gravitating towards the white gutter punk kids, and was more standoffish with the Jamaican soldiers or the aboriginal gang-bangers.  I realized that I felt intimidated by them… and I realized that there were some race-related fears I carried within me even though I always thought I had no prejudices or anything like that related to race.
[A bit off topic but here’s a thought experiment for you: if you’re walking down a lonely street late at night and you see two white boys dressed in preppy clothing walking down the sidewalk towards you would you have a different internal reaction than if you saw two black fellas dressed in hip-hop clothing walking down the sidewalk towards you?  What about two aboriginal guys covered in tattoos?  Notice that the only basis for having a different reaction would be the appearance of the guys — their skin and clothing — and nothing else.  Hmmmm…]
Also, there’s every chance that you don’t really know how to care about people and serve them in the ways in which they truly want to be served and in the ways that would really help them to attain the goals they have set for themselves.  A lot of people will tell you what’s wrong with “the poor” or “addicts” or “juvenile delinquents” — from social service schools, to charitable organizations, to churches — and a lot of people will think they have “the answers” or “the solutions”… and a lot of those people will be wrong.  This means that even if you don’t hold a lot of negative stereotypes about people who experience homelessness, you still might adhere to a model of service or of care that does a lot of harm.  So, you may think you’re helping people but you’re actually hurting them.
This means that, if you get into this work, you’re going to have to be open to asking hard questions of yourself about yourself.  You’ll have to be open to the criticisms of others.  If somebody you are trying to serve flips out on you ask yourself: am I doing what is best?  How can I do this different?  Don’t just retreat to excuses like “Oh, he’s in psychosis” or “Oh, she’s mad but I’m just doing things by the book.” Step back and examine yourself.  Same goes from criticisms you receive from co-workers — and you really need to invite those criticisms (I know I still need to do that… it’s probably a life-long thing).  Don’t just think: “Oh, he’s burnt out” or “Oh, she just had a bad day.”  Step back and think.
(3) Learn everything you can from everybody you can and apply it in your own way.
Listen, first and foremost, to the people whom you are claiming to serve.  Listen to them as people.  Like you would listen to your friends.  Or family.  Or teachers.  Or anybody else.  If you’re listening to somebody like she is a problem you are going to help solve, you’re not listening very well.  If you’re listening to somebody like he is a charity case and you are doing him a favour, you’re not listening very well.  Learn to be a good listener.  Don’t just think about the next thing you’re going to say or how you’re going to fix everything up.  Think about if things were reversed and you were doing the talking.
One of the most helpful initial things you can learn from the folks whom you claim to serve is who the good workers are (learn this from observation more than anything).  What staff members are respected by the clients?  Who do people go to when they really need to talk?  Who do people go to for help with solving a problem?  Why do they go to these people?  Watch these workers.  Learn from them.  Ask them lots of questions.  Questions are good and there is nothing wrong with asking them.  Don’t feel shy — it’s massively refreshing to meet new workers who ask good questions (and if you are listening and watching like this, you will be asking good questions).  Ask if you can join them in some of their conversations or in some of their tasks, projects or groups.  Don’t feel offended if they say no.  As they get to know you more, and as you demonstrate your caliber and character, you’ll receive more and more invitations to join various things.
Also watch and see what staff members are not respected by the clients?  Who do they “put up with”?  Who do they dislike?  Why?  Don’t be like them.  By saying these things — I’m not saying that this is some sort of popularity contest.  Respect is a deeper thing than popularity.  Some people will say “Oh, the residents/clients/whomever don’t like me because I enforce the rules” or “because I tell it like it is.”  Bullshit.  I know people who enforce rules but whom are well respected (because of how they go about doing that) and people who enforce rules that are despised (because of how they go about doing that).  And there are plenty of different ways to “tell it like it is.”
Same goes, by the way, for the staff members who are respected by the people whom we claim to serve.  Some people will say: “Oh, they just like that worker because she’s hot.”  Bullshit.  I’ve known plenty of hot workers and some were loved and some were hated.
One point of clarification: when I say that you should learn to be like certain co-workers and not like others, I’m not saying you should try to be somebody else or somebody you are not (i.e. I’m not saying you need to be a faker).  What I am saying is that you can learn basic characteristics or skills to apply or avoid and then find your own way to apply those things and your own niche.
So learn from the folks you want to serve and learn from your-coworkers.  But you also learn about where you work.  Learn what you can and cannot do there.  Learn what other people do there.  Know what is expected of you.  Learn what other services are available in town and learn how to network with them.  Learn the relevant legislation and learn about the broader socioeconomic, political, and cultural dynamics that are relevant to your work.  In other words, learn to do your job and learn to do it well.  You are getting paid because people are homeless — so everything you buy is bought with money you gained from being in a situation wherein homelessness exists.  This means that, out of everybody in society, you’ve got a massive debt to people who are homeless (this is why some folks refer to social services as poverty pimps — people and agencies who have learned to exploit the context of homelessness for their own advantage and comfort… but more on that later).
Of course, all this learning takes time.  And that’s okay.  Just dive right in.  The water is warm, and you will very quickly gain respect from your co-workers and from the people whom you desire to serve if they see you learning everything you can.

[A thought that occurred to me when I read Given Time: I. Counterfeit Money.  I feel like I might be missing something so I’m throwing this up here hoping that those who know more about these things could expand on this.]
Given all the different angles, options, rabbit trails, and possible readings he explores, there is one reading of Baudelaire’s story (Counterfeit Money) that came to my mind fairly early on but that Derrida never mentions.  It is this: what if the friend of the narrator is giving gifts to the narrator (not just one but two gifts)?
The narrators states that “You are right; next to the pleasure of feeling surprise, there is none greater than to cause a surprise.”  In response to this the friend immediately surprises the narrator both by the words he says (“It was the counterfeit coin”) and the way in which he says those words (“he calmly replied”).  This then sparks a series of thoughts in the narrator’s mind — as he tries to make sense of this surprising revelation — which is then interrupted by an even more surprising (and “appalling”) revelation from the friend of the narrator — he repeats the first statement the narrator made (albeit with a few alterations): “Yes, you are right; there is no sweeter pleasure than to surprise a man by giving him more than he hopes for.”
Notice this: the friend does not say that receiving a surprise is a greater pleasure than giving a surprise (as the narrator asserted).  And he is more specific about the kind of surprise that creates pleasure in the one who creates the surprise — giving a person more than he or she hopes for.  Is this not precisely what the friend has now done with the narrator?  He surprised him (twice!).  And this was more than the narrator hoped for — instead of causing him pleasure it appalled him and, rather than making him feel gratitude, it caused him to feel that his friend had committed an unforgivable offense!
One wonders, then, how Derrida neglected this reading for doesn’t it offer us something closer to an example of the “pure gift” he speaks about throughout this text?  A gift that cannot be recognized as a gift, a gift that does not create any sense of debt, exchange or obligation, nothing is given back in order to annul the gift, it disappears in a flash (although that does not mean what has transpired in this event has no longer lasting impact) and so on.
If this is the case, one is left questioning the value of pure(r) gifts.  While Derrida is certainly correct to observe how that which has been named “gift” (by Mauss and others) can very easily cause as much or more harm than help, one wonders if a more pure gift fares any better.  The recipient is appalled and offended.  The giver is judged and condemned.

[This is the transcript of a lecture I recently delivered for a course a friend of mine is teaching at Regent College, Vancouver.  Any kind of engagement with this material is most welcome.]

Lecture 12/Jun/25 – Our Ideological Captivity

Introduction
The subject of this lecture is “ideology.”  “Ideology” is a loaded term that has meant a lot of different things – when it was first introduced during the French revolution, it was used as to discuss “the science or study of ideas” then it came to denote a kind of false consciousness or set of false beliefs (as in Marx’s classic text, A Critique of the German Ideology) and, while it retains much of that sense in popular-level discourse, it now is used as a way of referring to “the set of beliefs by which a group or society orders reality so as to render it intelligible.”  I will begin with this definition when I consider the form and role of “ideology” within our current context.
Before I get into that, however, we need to note that there is no non-ideological way to speak about ideology.  What I am about to say is not a series of “facts” or an expression of some kind of “detached objectivity” but is, instead, a particular ideological perspective on ideology.  This is inescapable, in part, as I hope to demonstrate, because all language is inherently ideological.  Similarly, we ourselves, as subjects, are also inherently ideologically constituted beings.  As far as I can tell, there is no escaping ideology – we cannot get around it or outside of it.  We can only engage it from within.  Therefore, I will present one perspective on the matter – the one I find most compelling – but it is up to you all to determine if this position is one that you find persuasive.
Having said that, I will explore five theses within this lecture:

1. Ideology is that which creates and recreates our world every day.
2. People – especially those with power – have a vested interest in creating a certain kind of world – one that favours their power.
3. People with power employ a number of tools in order to impose the world they wish to inhabit onto others.
4. The powerful are largely successful in imposing their world onto others, and most people, either willingly or acritically, accept the world created for them by the powerful.
5. We will propose an alternative ideology that creates our world in a way that does not favour the powerful but favours those who are oppressed and abandoned by the powerful.

Most of my focus today will be on the first four points.  Much of the rest of the course will be devoted to filling out the fifth point.
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[The following is a report that I prepared for a church in Sarnia, Ontario, that had been running a “Men’s Mission” — i.e. an overnight low barrier shelter program for men experiencing homelessness — out of their church building.  They had been doing this by receiving a temporary zoning in order to run what is officially designated as a “Men’s Mission” within the Bylaws of this city.  Due to a combination of factors — discriminatory attitudes and unfounded fears expressed by well-to-do neighbours — which were then treated as logical arguments! — not to mention public criticisms made by the Executive Director of the only other shelter in town — which is high barrier and had a vested financial interest in seeing the church-based program closed — the city refused to extend the zoning of the Men’s Mission and ordered the church to stop running the shelter program.  The church then appealed this directive to a higher level of authority — something known as the Ontario Municipal Board [OMB].  This is when I entered the picture and drafted the following document for the church.  As you can see the church has dropped their appeal and will continue to offer a place to stay for men who are experiencing homelessness as a part of their religious rights and freedoms.  Below is the document I prepared regarding all of this.  I am posting it here now that the church has gone public with its decision because it may be of use to any other religious group that goes through a comparable struggle.]

1. Statement of Appeal Withdrawal

The River City Vineyard (RCV) has made the decision to withdraw its pending appeal with the Ontario Municipal Board (OMB) regarding the temporary zoning it had received in order to operate a space classified as a “Men’s Mission” within the church at 260 Mitton Street North.

 2. Reason for Withdrawing While Continuing to Offer Sanctuary and Shelter to Those Experiencing Homelessness

The RCV is withdrawing its appeal because it has determined that the building designation for the property at 260 Mitton Street North is all that is needed in order to continue to offer sanctuary and shelter to people who are experiencing homelessness. Therefore, the RCV will continue to offer these services to those who are in need of them, but will not be offering these services as a “Men’s Mission” (zoned UR1-27-T3) but will, instead, will be offering these services based upon its building being designated a “church (place of worship)” (zoned UR1-27).
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“Why do you call yourself ‘Beloved’?”
“In the dark my name is Beloved.”
~Toni Morrison, Beloved.

Having begun with the redundancy of the cross, we arrived at the redundancy of life — life as redundancy.  What are the implications of this?
Well, once we get over our dismay about not being a necessity for anyone or any thing, we can begin to understand that redundancy and superfluity point to excess.  Excess is over-abundance. Over-abundance, far from being worthless, is a gift.  Recognizing our lives as redundant does not lead us to conclude that they are meaningless.  Rather, this recognition enables us to understand that our lives are gifts — crazy, excessive, unnecessary gifts — given to ourselves and to each other.
Living as gifts, and life as a gift, means that who we strive to be and what we strive to do may be entirely removed from the domain of duty — if we are not needed then we are not bound by duty.  Instead, we are free.  Free to be and do what we desire (and not what we “need”) to be and do.  I am free to love my children not because I must (in which case I am not free to love them at all), but because I want to.  I am free to be a gift to others and free to understand that every living redundant moment and deed is a beautiful gift to me as well.
This is the domain of grace.  Dying to ourselves-as-necessities is a dying to any and every rule of law and a resurrection unto the anarchy of grace.  The Law wants us to think of ourselves as necessities — we must be and do this or that, and if we do not be or do this or that, then it is appropriate for us to be disciplined and punished.  As necessities we are enslaved.  Furthermore, the logic maintained by this rule of law then meshes seamlessly with the logic of contemporary capitalism — as workers, we need to earn money in order to consume superfluous items that are sold to us as though they were necessities (You need this credit card to be free, you need this car to have a healthy family, you need this scent to be desired by the other sex, etc.).  This is the central lie in all of it.  We can see through part of it — at the end of the day, we know that we don’t really need a lot of these things — but few of us can see through the whole of it — that we, ourselves, are not needed.
However, when we embrace ourselves as redundant, we are liberated from the law and from wage-slavery (working-to-consume), or from any other imperative.  Instead of obeying, working, and consuming, we are free to love and to be loved.  We are free to be joyful.  We are free to be gifts to one another and to our own selves.  Everything becomes grace.  All the way down.
This is the message of Easter.  As I stated at the end of my Good Friday meditation:

God dies every day for (i.e. because of) the sins of the world.  That is God’s way of being with us.  The crazy message of Easter is that this dying is not futile.  And if the dying of God is meaningful then perhaps our living-unto-death is also meaningful.  Perhaps death is not the last word for us.  Perhaps, like the cross of Christ, we are redundant but not without meaning.

Our living-unto-death is not without significance.  We are redundant but not without meaning.
Hence, the resurrection of Jesus throws open the tomb of the living (which I mentioned at the end of my Holy Saturday post).  The stone is now rolled away and all of us are free.  Free to love.  Free to be loved.  Free to play.  Free to rejoice.  The grave has been thrown open.  It is up to us to choose if we want to follow Jesus out of it.

What, precisely, does it mean to say that our sense of morality and justice is reduced to the language of a business deal?  What does it mean when we reduce moral obligations to debts? … A debt is the obligation to pay a certain sum of money… This allows debts to become simple, cold, and impersonal–which, in turn, allows them to be transferable…
…a topic that will  be explored at length in these pages, is money’s capacity to turn morality into a matter of impersonal arithmetic–and by doing so, to justify things that would otherwise seem outrageous or obscene…
However, when one looks a little closer, one discovers that these two elements–the violence and the quantification–are intimately linked.  In fact it’s almost impossible to find one without the other.
~David Graeber, Debt: The First 500 Years, 13-14.

A particularly fine example of those outrageous or obscene outcomes, intertwining violence and quantification, are substitutionary atonement theories proposed by Christian theologians regarding the crucifixion of Jesus.  From such a perspective, humanity is in infinite debt to God but is incapable of paying that debt.  Therefore, God chooses to pay the debt himself (yes, the male pronoun is appropriate for God in this theory) by sacrificing his son or, from a different angle, by laying down his own life, and his death then abolishes or pays or satisfies  or nullifies this debt and makes possible the forgiveness of sins, reconciliation with God, and so on.  Variations of this go back to the very origins of Christianity — references to Jesus as a sacrificial Passover lamb can be found in the some of the earliest Christian texts found in the New Testament, “substitution” and “satisfaction” atonement theories are heavily favoured by the streams of Christianity that like to refer to themselves as “orthodox” (even if the various “orthodox” parties also have a history of condemning one another as “heretics”).
Sin as debt… owing God… perhaps with the devil acting as the repo man… quantification and violence… justifying obscene actions (like killing one’s own son, like suggesting killing an innocent atones for the sins of many, like suggesting that this is the only way things could play out)… all these things are woven together in such atonement theories.
I can’t say that it makes much or any sense to me.  Does God really have to sacrifice his own son, does Jesus really have to die, in order to restore right relationships with us?  How does that work exactly?  What kind of God would do this?  Who chooses to organize things in this way?  Or did God make some sort of gentleman’s agreement with the devil and this was his (yes, his) only out?  Despite all the suffering and harm that would happen to the world, God kept his end of the deal, but then forced the devil to overplay his hand (causing him to lose his “right” to humanity)?  Really?  Again, what would this say about God?  What kind of God would this be?  Why would the devil by given any “right” to humanity?
For a long time, I tended not to worry about such things because I favoured the Christus Victor atonement theory (which harkens back to the earlier ransom theory of Origen).  From this perspective, the cross of Christ wasn’t so much about satisfying God’s wrath, or abolishing a debt, but was, instead, the moment when God triumphed over all the coordinated powers of Sin and Death (and the devil, too, but I focused mostly on the former two — with Sin being nothing more than the physical and material outworkings of Death in the world).  I was content to leave things at that for several years and not worry too much about it (because, after all, this theory has problems, too: for example, what kind of God would choose to go about winning a victory in this way?  Why wait til then?  Wouldn’t this mean that God had been defeated up until this point?  Why would God permit that?).  To be honest, atonement theories related to Jesus (much like justification theories related to Paul) haven’t captured my interest all that much.  How God saves us hasn’t been an intense area of interest for me, that God saves us — and may save us in the here and now — has captured my attention to a far greater degree.
However, a few things got me rethinking this subject — not least, Graeber’s book, which made me ask: what if I think about this outside of the monetary language of business and commerce? — and asking myself what I actually do believe about all of this.
The truth is that I don’t actually accept any of the standard atonement theories.  They don’t make sense to me (including the moral influence theory which, although it has more going for it than substitutionary theories, still has its problems).  Here’s the catch: I can’t imagine that anything changed — at least as far as God was concerned — on the cross or after the cross.  Instead, what we see in the stories of the cross and resurrection is the way in which God chooses to be when in the company of a world that is broken and marked by Sin and Death.  What we see, if we believe the stories, is the way God has always been from the beginning of creation.  And what is this way?  The way of self-giving love, of solidarity, of kenosis, and the pursuit of the beloved.  What we see is that God is with us and there is no place so low, so terrible, or so godforsaken, that God is not also with us there.  Not only that, but God is with us in order to love us, to make us new, and give us life.  All that the cross of Jesus “does” is provide us with a particularly stark example of this.  Hence, the cross is redundant to the extent that it does not inaugurate this way of God being with us — it just helps some of us to (finally) get the point that this is how God always has been and always will be.  It is an apocalypse, a revelation of that which is, not an event that changes everything that was or will be.
Therefore, from this perspective, Jesus dies for the sins of the world — not because sin used to prevent God from saving us and now longer does so — but because that is what God chooses to do when in relationship with a world defined by Sin and, most especially, Death.  God dies everyday for (i.e. because of) the sins of the world.  That is God’s way of being with us.  The crazy message of Easter is that this dying is not futile.  And if the dying of God is meaningful then perhaps our living-unto-death is also meaningful.  Perhaps death is not the last word for us.  Perhaps, like the cross of Christ, we are redundant but not without meaning.

[I was thinking I could do a monthly feature on my blog: “Ten Questions with Daniel Imburgia” (which would be my way of both exploiting Daniel for my own entertainment and edification and exposing more people to his brilliance) but, well, after sending him the first ten questions it took him a few months to respond.  Then, when he did respond, he seemed to have the impression that I was asking a number of different people these questions… so much for what I had planned — “Ever tried.  Ever failed…”  My thanks to Daniel for sharing these words.]

Dear DanO, well here are my thoughts on the questions you asked. First off I reckon we aught to review your original questions though:

(1) What is meaning?

(2) What is the significance of meaning?

(3) What is the relationship of meaning to ethics?

(4) What is the relationship of meaning to events?

(5) What is the relationship of meaning to actions?

(6) What is the relationship of meaning to desire?

(7) What is the relationship of meaning to language?

(8) What is the relationship of meaning to being?

(9) What is the relationship of one person’s sense of meaning to other senses of meaning?

 (10) What is the relationship of meaning to meaninglessness?

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