The violence we preach is not
the violence of the sword,
the violence of hatred.
It is the violence of love,
of brotherhood,
the violence that wills to beat weapons
into sickles for work.
~ Oscar Romero
I wonder to what extent the use of, and backlash to, the language of violence as it has been propriated by the state, and rejected by the social workers, has impacted Christianity. One side wants all the power it can grasp and will take power forcefully. The other side wants nothing to do with power or force, and labels anything that resembles those things as “violence”.
Which leaves Christians in a rather sticky situation. Because Christians cannot fully align themselves with either camp. Christians cannot be caught up in the language of domination, nor should they be caught up in a total relinquishing of power. To bring healing uninvited, to offer a hope unlooked for, to continue to journey with those who would reject you — such things, when enacted properly, cannot be labeled as “violence”.
Cruciform power is the model and the standard set for Christians. Ours is the violence of love. It is allowing violence to be inflicted upon ourselves so that peace may bear fruit. It is placing ourselves in the line of fire until there are no bullets left to be shot. It is a voice that says, “Ya basta“. Enough is enough.
Communicating Meaning: Speaking Religion with G. Lindbeck, M. Heidegger & U. Eco
1. Introduction: the tip of a very large iceberg
Studies in linguistics and semiotics have become increasingly prominent within contemporary philosophical circles. Modern technological advances, particularly in the realm of communications, have profoundly impacted the nature and power of knowledge. As communication has gained increasing prominence in Western societies, language has assumed an increasing importance. Yet the explosion of information that has accompanied this has also contributed to a contemporary crisis in relation to questions of meaning, truth, and significance. Consequently, postmodernity is defined by a “nihilism of meaning” and “the anxiety of truthlessness”. We are increasingly able to communicate for pragmatic purposes, but increasingly unsure if the content conveyed has any truth-value.
However, the study of these topics is not new. Greek philosophers like Hippocrates, Aristotle, and the Stoics were studying the nature of words, signs, communication, truth, and meaning, long before scholars like Wittgenstein, Derrida, Chomsky, Peirce, Saussure, Todorov, Levi-Strauss, or Greimas. Similarly, Christian theology has always had a vested interest in these topics, as evidenced by such theologians as Augustine, Aquinas, Barth, de Lubac, and, more recently, James K.A. Smith. It quickly becomes evident to anybody exploring this topic that there is a vast amount of literature to be explored. Therefore, given spatial limitations, this paper will simply explore how three recent scholars have addressed these topics (Section 2) before comparing these approaches and drawing some tentative conclusions (Section 3).
2. George Lindbeck, Martin Heidegger, and Umberto Eco
Because linguistics, meaning, and communication are urgent and essential topics for so many different contemporary scholars this paper will survey the views of a theologian, a philosopher, and a literary theorist. This section will survey The Nature of Doctrine by G. Lindbeck, The Way to Language by M. Heidegger, and Semiotics and the Philosophy of Language by U. Eco.
In The Nature of Doctrine, Lindbeck introduces a “postliberal” theology, which views religion from a cultural-linguistic perspective. Over against the cognitive-propositional approach of traditional orthodoxy (which understands doctrines as truth claims about objective realities), and the dominant experiential-expressive approach of liberalism (which understands doctrines as expressive symbols of subjective feelings, orientations and practices), Lindbeck argues that doctrines function as authoritative rules of discourse within a faith community. Thus religion is a cultural-linguistic framework that shapes the entirety of one's life and thought — like a culture it is a communal phenomenon that shapes the subjectivities of individuals, and like a language it evokes the actions it recommends. Thus, doctrine is a grammar that posits intrasystematic truths, not ontological truths; it is the lens through which a faith community views the world. According to this view meaning is constituted by the uses of a specific language and it is immanent to religious texts, which evoke a paradigmatic domain of meaning that shapes the world of the reader, in the context of their faith community. Communication happens through skilful performance; faith is not translated but its language and practices are taught to others.
In The Way to Language, Heidegger focuses specifically upon a philosophy of language, noting that this is not a detached exercise, but one that takes place within an hermeneutical circle. To study language is “bringing language as language to language”. Heidegger asserts that language is a showing, it “brings something to appear, lets what appears be apprehended, and enables what is apprehended to be thoroughly discussed”. This showing is a mutual presencing — the topic of speech is made present, and the speaker is also presenced to the wherewithal of their speech. Therefore, what essentially unfolds in language is saying as pointing, but this pointing is itself preceded by the object allowing itself to be shown. Thus, speech requires a hearing in advance (we must have first seen that to which we point) as the Object first allows itself to be told (i.e. shown) to us, before we reiterate this to others. Therefore, in order to speak, our essence must be granted entry into the saying. Language can therefore be understood as owning, or as a mutual propriating, as humans propriate the saying, and are also propriated by the saying. Therefore, all saying is relational.
Eco is concerned with linguistic semiotics. Within Semiotics and the Philosophy of Language, he argues that the two objects generally posited by scholars to be the central object of semiotics (the sign/sign-function and semiosis) are not, as commonly supposed, mutually incompatible because the semiosic process of interpretation is also at the core of the concept of sign. He notes that contemporary theories of interpretation can be mapped on a continuum where those on one extreme (traditionalists) see only one possible way of interpreting a text, and those on the other extreme (deconstructionists) see an infinite number of meanings in a text; Eco is interested in finding a valid continuum of intermediate positions between these two points. In order to do this, he notes how the deconstructionists have not actually caused a crisis for the notion of the sign per se, but only for the sign understood as a model of equivalency which posits meaning as synonymy. He proposes an instructional model of sign that operates through an inferential process, within which the sign only exists as it is constructed by a culturally determined code. According to this approach definition/meaning is not explicated by a dictionary model but by an encyclopedic model. The supposed finitude and objectivity of the dictionary, which posits predicables and clusters of essential attributes following the model of the Porphyrian tree, is problematic because such clusters are arbitrary divisions of differentiae, and the tree can, therefore, be reelaborated and rearranged indefinitely. Thus, a dictionary is merely a disguised encyclopedia, containing the (ever expanding) sum of a culture's world knowledge, and meaning is found when something is inserted in the proper series of contexts within that encyclopedia. The encyclopedia has no hierarchy of knowledge, but resembles a web-like labyrinth in which all points can be connected infinitely to all other points. Codes are the open rules that function as a cultural way of modeling the world, thereby guiding how a culture accesses its encyclopedia. Therefore, the encyclopedia is the semantic concept, and the dictionary functions as an ad hoc pragmatic tool that relies on co-texts and isotopy in order to convey a particular meaning. Thus, communication is for pragmatic purposes, and there is no discernible universal truth-value to any statement outside of a particular cultural setting.
3. Reflection
There are some significant similarities between these three approaches. Lindbeck's notion of intrasystematic truth, correlates well with Eco's model of encyclopedic definition. This position is further supported by Heidegger's notion of propriation, which asserts that one must have a genuine relationship with the Object of which one speaks if one is to be able to then say, or rather, presence, that Object. In this regard, we must be clear that Heidegger does not make the mistake of following the equivalency model of semiotics that Eco so soundly refutes. For Heidegger, the signifier is not equivalent to that which is signified, rather the signifier (i.e. the words/language) are that which point to that which is signified, which, in turn, has already permitted itself to be shown. Thus, an inferential semiosic process is still being enacted. Therefore, all three of these positions make it clear that communication is possible within a particular faith-community, or culture. When this is accepted, we can also conclude that only Christians can do Christian theology. One must be propriated by the living Word of God, be a part of a living community of faith, and allow the encyclopedia of that community to dictate meaning, in order to speak the language of Christianity.
However, this conclusion leads to a dilemma of communication. If all truths are contextually understood, how can any communication occur between communities? It seems as though we are forced to accept the postmodern conclusion, so strongly supported by the likes of Eco, that communication is limited to pragmatic purposes and no real or universal truth-value can be expressed across community boundaries.
However, such a conclusion does not sit comfortably with the traditions of the Christian Church or with the character of the Christian God, as that God is revealed in the Christian Scriptures. This is why Lindbeck's emphasis upon Christian living and the skilful performances of the Christian language are so significant. Although Christian language may be completely foreign to members of other communities apart from the Church, that language must not be translated in order to be made intelligible. Indeed, such language cannot be translated and still mean the same thing. As Lindbeck says, “[t]o the degree that religions are like languages and cultures, they can no more be taught by means of translation than can Chinese or French”. If we follow the framework established by Eco, translation would mean abandoning the Christian encyclopedia in order to fit the object of Christian communication into another encyclopedia. But, when this occurs, what is communicated ceases to be Christian, and cannot mean the same thing that it means within the Christian community. Christian language causes something radically new to be presenced, it points to something that does not fit within the bounds of any other encylopedia, and when theologians resort to translations they reduce the living Word to lifeless information. If the Word is to be communicated it must not be distorted. This is why skilful performance is essential. Performance becomes the means by which the audience can complete the inferential process required for understanding. The faith-community embodies the message it proclaims and thereby quite literally presences the gospel proclamation in an intelligible (and perhaps even attractive) manner. Following Heidegger, it could be said that Christians, having been granted entry into the Word, ensure that that entryway stays open to others by living in a manner that reveals how they have been propriated by that Word. As Jacques Ellul notes, significance and meaning are lost, when the word is dissociated from the person, when “[the word] is no longer the person in action… no longer a commitment and a disclosure of oneself”. Such words are pure sound, useful perhaps for pragmatic purposes (and even for deception), but not for conveying meaning.
However, skilful performance is only one half of the Christian resolution to the contemporary crisis involving the communication of meaning. The other half of the Christian response is found in Jesus' assertion that he is the truth. Jesus is the Word. This brings a new significance to the relationality that Heidegger argues is at the root of all language. Christian language is premised upon a relationship with Jesus. It is possible because Jesus chooses to make himself present, Jesus propriates believers (they are in Christ) and is propriated by believers (Christ is in them). However, Jesus chooses to reveal himself not only to those who are already members of his Church but also to those who are members of other communities. Indeed, the whole story of Christianity is premised upon the notion that God continually breaks into the world in radically new ways. Therefore, even apart from the living embodiment of the word in the faith community, Christian truth can be conveyed because Jesus himself is the Word. Certainly God works primarily through his Church, but God is not limited to his Church. Of course, as writers like Eco make clear, this assertion cannot be declared in any convincing (or even sensible) manner to those who have not yet encountered the Word made flesh. Yet the inability of all communities to agree upon a universal truth does not mean there is no universal truth, and, as God has made clear over and over again, the inability of communities to agree upon a universal truth does not mean that truth cannot be communicated (through language) across community lines. The word does not gain power through translation, the word already has power through Jesus Christ, and the Church must resist the temptation to do what only God can do — create understanding, transform hearts of stone into hearts of flesh, propriate and be propriated. As it was at Pentecost, so it is now; the Spirit makes the Church's proclamation intelligible to members of all the communities of the world.
4. Conclusion: language, power, and salvation
The postmodern crisis is not just a crisis of communication, and linguistics. The postmodern crisis is fundamentally soteriological. Contemporary “language games” are not abstract aesthetical exercises limited to the academy. Language games are played for the sake of power, and when meaning and truth are expelled from the discussion, so is the possibility of salvation. Humanity remains enslaved to violence, solitude, and meaninglessness. Thus, as Jacques Ellul argues, “Anyone wishing to save humanity must first of all save the word”. Of course, as this paper has argued, to save the word, one must first be saved by the Word that is Jesus Christ. By proclaiming, and living within, the Word, Christians offer a truth to the world that transcends all community boundaries. Like those who use sign language and dance to describe music to the deaf, the Christian communities signs and dances, resting in the assurance that the Christian God is a God of miracles — a God who opens deaf ears, gives sight to the blind, and brings freedom to the captives.
Bibliography
Eco, Umberto. Seimiotics and the Philosophy of Language. Indiana University Press: Bloomington, 1984.
Ellul, Jacques. The Subversion of Christianity. Trans. Geoffrey W. Bromily. Eerdmans: Grand Rapids, 1986.
Ellul, Jacques. The Humiliation of the Word. Trans. Joyce Main Hanks. Eerdmans: Grand Rapids, 1985.
Ellul, Jacques. Hope in Time of Abandonment. Trans. C. Edward Hopkin. Seabury Press: New York, 1977.
Heidegger, Martin. “The Way to Language” in Martin Heidegger: Basic Writings. Ed. David Farrell Krell. HarpersCollins: New York, 1977.
Lindbeck, George A. The Nature of Doctrine: Religion and Theology in a Postliberal Age. WJKP: Louisville, 1984.
Lyotard, Jean-Francois. The Postmodern Condition: A Report on Knowledge. Trans. Geoff Bennington and Brian Massumi. Theory and History of Literature, Volume 10. University of Minnesota Press: Minneapolis, 1984.
Postman, Neil. Technopoly: The Surrender of Culture to Technology. Vintage Books: New York, 1992.
Vanhoozer, Kevin J. The Drama of Doctrine: A Canonical-Linguistic Approach to Christian Theology. WJKP: Louisville, 2005.
Semiotics for Dummies (i.e. me): Part III
Okay before I continue this oh so fascinating series (all joking aside, if you only read one post in the series, this is the one to read), I should clarify two things.
(1) The semiotic approach being described here is particular to Umberto Eco. This series should actually be called “Eco’s Semiotics for Dummies” because I am not providing a general survey of multiple views (although some of those views are dealt with [or presupposed] by Eco). As well, continuing the “for dummies” theme, I will mention that http://www.thefreedictionary.com was a great help to me while reading through this book. See a word you don’t know? Well, chances are, I didn’t know it either.
(2) One of the things I struggled with the first time I worked through this book (I’ve gone through it twice now) was how the chapter tied together. I had some trouble understanding the flow of his argument from section to section. How does it all tie together? So, let me clarify a bit of where we’ve come from before I move to the next section. In the introduction (Part I of this series), Eco argued that he wanted to resolve the dichotomy between the sign-function and semiotics by arguing that the semiotic process applies to signs themselves. In order to do to this he must locate himself within a range of approaches to hermeneutics. Thus, he posits a continuum with x at one end and y at the other. At point ‘x’ are those who only see one meaning in a text, and at point ‘y’ are those who see any meaning in a text. Eco’s is interesting locating himself between those two points and positing a limited range of meanings in a text. Therefore, in Chapter One (Part II of this series), Eco further explicates the positions of those at the points ‘x’ and ‘y’ when dealing with the basic semiotic notion of the sign. He then explains his middle way in relation to this concept, thereby affirming his thesis. Therefore, having affirmed this via media, he goes on to explain just exactly how he understands meaning. And this is the topic of the section we will now look at. Thus without further ado:
[2] Dictionary vs. Encyclopedia
Eco’s central thesis in this section is that the Porphyrian tree (i.e. dictionary) model of definition is untenable. Rather meaning must be understood through an encyclopedic model, and the Porphyrian model should just be employed as a pragmatic tool. Okay, far enough, but what does this all mean?
Well, we need to first understand a dictionary approach to meaning. Hjelmsev was probably one of the first to propose the idea of the modern dictionary by extending his sign/figurae distinction (see Part II) from the expression-plane to the content-plane as well. However, this approach requires a limited number of primitives, and so a lexical system of hyonyms and hyperonyms is created in the format of a tree that slowly tapers at the top (i.e. Regnum, Class, Subclass, Order, suborder, Family, Genus, Species, Common Name). Such an approach to definition does not drift into synonymy but is using short-hand expressions to signify common sets of properties. Properties are contained or meant by certain taxonomic labels. However, for this approach to be successful there must be a limited number of primitives (“primitives being the things at the bottom of the tree) and a criteria that firmly establishes what is a primitive and what is not. Unfortunately, this approach has trouble resolving those problems.
Before pressing onto to his proposed resolution, Eco first takes a step back and looks at where this dictionary model came from. It was Aristotle who first argued that definition meant establishing a set of essential attributes. He also developed the notion of predicables, the modes or categories which can be applied to a subject. Porphry developed Aristotle’s notion and posited five predicables (genus, species, differentia, property, accident) and this way of thinking has impacted definition ever since.
As mentioned above, this approach is problematic for it assumes a finite set of genera and species which are mutually definable through hyonymy and hyperonymy. The reason why this is so problematic is that such a system of clusters is completely arbitrary. It is only arbitrary differentiae that make up the various clusters, and so the tree can be continually re-elaborated and rearranged. Furthermore, because differentiae are accidents, they are also infinite, or at least indefinite. Therefore, the Porphyrian model of definition is untenable. The tree dissolves.
However, the notion of defining things by clusters of common properties is useful to the extent that it reveals a dictionary’s true identity: a dictionary is a disguised encyclopedia.
An encyclopedia contains the world knowledge of a given culture. This encyclopedic knowledge provides frames and scripts for any given situation, that allows a certain meaning to be the appropriate meaning for that context. Within an encyclopedia there is no hierarchy of properties, but such hierarchies are only created ad hoc in any given context. Therefore, the encyclopedia is the regulative hypothesis that allows local speakers to construct an arbitrary dictionary in order to ensure communication. Encyclopedic knowledge can be mapped as a net-like labyrinth where all points can be connected with all other points to an infinite degree. Thus, it is a myopic algorithm for one can only see where one is at a specific local point, one cannot see the whole at any time. Thus, “truth” cannot be discovered in any sort of global way, it can only be recognised in local places — with the recognition that that “truth” always has an ideological bias.
Therefore, Eco concludes, the encyclopedia is a semantic concept and the dictionary is a pragmatic tool. How exactly the relationship between an encyclopedia and an ad hoc dictionary plays out will be made clear in the next chapter.
The Little Liturgy
This post is simply the order of prayer that I tend to follow daily. For those who might be interested, here is my daily prayer. However, don't feel that it just a prayer to be prayed alone; this liturgy would work well for groups — just substitute “we” for “I” everywhere and be creative in praying things together, or taking turns or whatever.
This liturgy highlights certain passages and prayers from Scripture, but feel free to work other prayers in. Be creative. I regularly insert Ro 15.13, and bits of Eph 1 into this.
What is especially exciting to me in all this is that this liturgy just developed naturally from spending time daily in prayer, I didn't spend any time studying this topic. That also means that this is a work in progress and I'm excited to see how this it will continue to develop.
The Little Liturgy
1. Recite the Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed:
“I believe in One God,
the Father Almighty,
Maker of Heaven and Earth,
and of all things visible and invisible.
And in one Lord Jesus Christ,
the Son of God,
the Only-Begotten, begotten of the Father before all ages;
Light of Light;
True God of True God;
begotten, not made;
of one essence with the Father,
by Whom all things were made;
Who for us men and for our salvation
came down from Heaven,
and was incarnate of the Holy Spirit and the Virgin Mary,
and became man.
And He was crucified for us under Pontius Pilate,
and suffered, and was buried.
And the third day He arose again,
according to the Scriptures,
and ascended into Heaven,
and sits at the right hand of the Father;
and He shall come again with glory to judge the living and the dead;
Whose Kingdom shall have no end.
And in the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the Giver of Life,
Who proceeds from the Father;
Who with the Father and the Son together is worshiped and glorified;
Who spoke by the prophets.
And in One, Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic Church.
I acknowledge one baptism for the remission of sins.
I look for the resurrection of the dead,
and the life of the world to come.”
[I choose to begin with this creed because it is the creed that is affirmed by all Christians, everywhere. It is good to begin prayer by grounding ourselves in the traditions of the Church and there is something wonderful about declaring what Christians have declared together for almost two thousand years. This “groundedness” is something that continues throughout the liturgy.]
2. Pray the Glory Be:
“Glory be to the Father.
Glory be to the Son.
Glory be to the Holy Spirit.”
[Thus we begin praying by engaging in worship. By beginning with the Glory Be we also ground ourselves in a trinitarian approach to God — remembering that the God of Christianity is like no other god in history. This truine God, and no other, is the God to whom we pray.]
3. Pray the Jesus Prayer:
“Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.”
[I choose to start with this prayer because it means coming to prayer with an attitude of humility. However, I also start here because I don't want to end with this prayer. As we journey through our daily life we tend to forget how God defines us (i.e. as Spirit-filled members of Christ's body, and as beloved children) and so we often come to prayer feeling like “sinners”… but we don't stop there. Prayer reminds us of who we are so that, by the time we end our prayers we are no longer defining ourselves as “sinners” but are remembering that we are new creations in Christ.]
4. Pray the Lord's Prayer:
“Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed by thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors. And lead us not into temptation but deliver us from the evil one. For thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever. Amen.”
[We are still at the beginning of our prayer time and it is right to begin by praying the way that Jesus taught us to pray. I tend to pray this prayer slowly, meditating on the various words and thoughts within it as I go. So, for example, take the first two words of the prayer, “Our Father”. When I pray this I remember that I come to God as a part of a body, not just as an individual. God is not just my Father, he is our Father. Thus, I am reminded that I am a part of a community that belongs to Christ, I am reminded that all of creation is under the care of one Father, and I come to that Father as a member of, and a representative of that creation. So use your imagination and keep working your way through the prayer. As you do this day by day it is quite wonderful where the Spirit can lead you.]
4. Pray through the Beatitudes, applying each of them to yourself:
“Lord make me poor in Spirit that I may have the Kingdom of Heaven.
Lord make me mourn so that I may be comforted.
Lord make me meek so that I may inherit the earth.
Lord make me hunger and thirst after righteousness so that I may be satisfied.
Lord make me merciful so that I may be shown mercy.
Lord make me pure in heart so that I may see you.
Lord make me a peacemaker so that I may be called a child of God.
Lord make me persecuted for the sake of righteousness so that I may be like the prophets before me and inherit the Kingdom of Heaven.”
[From the Lord's prayer, I like to move to the Beatitudes because praying through these reminds me of my Christian identity. They remind me of who I am in Christ, and how I should act. They also remind me of the promises of God that inspire hope and courage within us. Again it is good to go slowly through them, meditating upon what it means to be poor in Spirit, why we should mourn, and so on and so forth. Initially it may feel presumptuous to claim the promises of the Beatitudes in this manner, but push through that. This is no “name it and claim it” theology. After all, you are praying for suffering, grief, hunger, etc., to define who you are, and the promises must be read in light of those things.]
6. Pray through the fruit of the Spirit:
“Lord, fill me with the fruit of love.
Lord, fill me with the fruit of joy.
Lord, fill me with the fruit of peace.
Lord, fill me with the fruit of patience.
Lord, fill me with the fruit of goodness.
Lord, fill me with the fruit of kindness.
Lord, fill me with the fruit of faithfulness.
Lord, fill me with the fruit of gentleness.
Lord, fill me with the fruit of self-control.
Lord, fill me with the fruit of hope.
[You will notice that this is primarily drawn from the passage in Galatians where the fruit of the Spirit is listed. However, that place is not the only place where Paul lists fruit that should define those who are Spirit-filled. For example, in 1 Cor 13, he talks about the supremacy of faith, hope, and love. Thus, I have added hope to the list of the fruit. I think hope is one of the most essential attributes of Christians. It's hard to miss that when you journey with those on the margins of society. Hope grounds us in God's eschatological time-frame, it places us within God's story allowing us to remember where we have come from and live in anticipation of where we are going. Anyway, feel free to add other attributes to this list that you find in the New Testament, or, think about how those other traits may already be incorporated into the fruit listed here. Indeed, as you pray through the fruit of the Spirit, meditate upon each one and think about how they may be different from each other. What is the difference between goodness and kindness? Between kindness and love? And so on.]
7. Intercessory Prayer:
Intercession for family/housemates/partner.
Intercession for my school.
Intercession for my work, and for the non-profit I'm working on.
Intercession for the Church.
Intercession for the nation-state.
Intercession for the suffering/oppressed/abandoned.
Intercession for our enemies/the enemies of the oppressed.
After each section pray, “Lord, in your mercy, hear these prayers.”
[This is just how this list looks for me. It will be a little different for each person. However, each session of intercession should include (a) your loved ones; (b) people in each of the environments in which you move (i.e. school, work, other projects); (c) the Church; (d) the state; (e) the suffering; (f) enemies. One brief comment on praying for “enemies”. When we pray for our “enemies” and the “enemies of the oppressed” we remember the humanity of those we dislike. It is through prayer that enemies are made into friends. This is so because we cannot spend a sustained amount of time praying for people without also learning to love those people. Also note that there will be some overlap between these categories (for example, given the right set of circumstances “drug dealers” could fit into each category). Noting how the categories relate to one another can be fruitful in prayer]
8. Recite Romans 8.37-39:
“But in all these things we overwhelmingly conquer through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing, will be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
[This section concludes the main body of this liturgy, which has focused a lot on Christian identity. We have thus moved from knowing ourselves as sinners in section 2, to knowing ourselves as God's beloved. Here we are grounding ourselves in the certainty that nothing will be able to separate us from that love relationship. It is important to pray this after intercession (just as it is important to pray the Beatitudes before intercession) because it reminds us that — even though we pray and are a part of God's chosen people — suffering, weakness, and loss will be a part of our experiences. This prayer reminds us that those sufferings, in the long run, are inconsequential. Nothing is truly lost, for nothing can divide us from God's love.]
9. Sing the doxology:
“Praise God from whom all blessings flow. Praise him all creatures here below. Praise him above ye heavenly hosts. Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.”
[We are now moving into the concluding section of our prayer, and this song should be coming pretty naturally at this point. Prayer should cause us to burst forth into praise and I find that, by this time, I'm usually pretty eager to worship and adore God (of course, that eagerness may not come right away, but it's pretty amazing how, through praying this liturgy regularly, that eagerness does become part of the daily experience). We are also further grounding ourselves in the body of Christ by singing this doxology.]
10. Pray for the consummation of the kingdom:
“Father, come and make all things new.
Jesus, come and consummate your kingdom.
Spirit, come and be poured out on all flesh.
The Spirit and the Bride say, 'Come!'
Amen. Come, Lord Jesus.”
[Once again we are placing ourselves within God's history, remembering that we are still only living in the now-and-not-yet of the kingdom of God. This prayer comes from Revelation and we are reminded of our longing for the day when God will heal all wounds, dry all tears, and put an end to all violence, and brokenness. What we are expressing here is our longing for Jesus' speedy return. This longing is evident all over the New Testament, and it should also define us as the people of God in the 21st-century. That may seem like an odd notion to many of us (or at least it seemed odd to me when I first started thinking about it) but that only reveals how removed we are from the suffering and from those who are truly desperate for new life.]
11. Pray Revelation 22.21:
“The grace of the Lord Jesus be with all.
Amen.”
[Thus, we conclude with the final words of the Biblical canon. We end where the authors of Scripture ended, longing for God's grace to be poured out on all.]
February Books
Well, a pretty good month for reading. Ended up reading a few I didn’t expect to read, and not reading a few that I had intended to read. So it goes. Without further ado:
1. The Message and the Kingdom: How Jesus and Paul Ignited a Revolution and Transformed the Ancient World by Richard A. Horsley and Neil Asher Silberman. I’ve gotta say that I was rather disappointed by this one. I really wanted to like this book, I have always supported a counter-imperial political reading of Jesus and Paul, and so I was hoping to find an ally in the authors of this book. After all, this book is all about how Jesus and Paul were socio-political counter-cultural revolutionaries exercising a type of preferential option for the poor. Unfortunately the authors, so driven to counter voices both from the Jesus Seminar (who argue that Jesus was a wandering Cynic teaching timeless, apolitical, truths) and from mainstream American Evangelicalism (who argue that America is the Kingdom of God), push their point to the an extreme and end up throwing the proverbial baby out with the bath-water. Consequently, the authors display a type of “we know better because of recent archaeology” attitude that is really quite unfounded. Because they think they know better they feel that it is okay to pick and choose what they want from the New Testament canon, and discard anything that seems “religious”. They thus create a false dichotomy between “religion/spirituality” and “politics/economics”, and in doing so they deny the significance of the resurrection for early Christianity, and they also deny the divinity of Jesus, arguing that he preached (of all things!) a “kingless kingdom”. Oh dear.
2. Cross Shattered Christ: Meditations on the Seven Last Words by Stanley Hauerwas. This was a fairly simple devotional read. I always enjoy Hauerwas and this book was no exception. It should be read slowly over a number of days, not devoured in half an hour — as those of us who read many books would be tempted to do. I’m actually working on writing a response to it entitled, “Cross Shattered Lives” so I’ll hold off further comments for now.
3. Cur Deus Homo by St. Anselm of Canterbury. Within this book (whose title means “Why God Became Man” — not “Why God Became Gay” as some have supposed), Anselm tries to argue, from logic alone without an appeal to revelation or Scripture, that (1) there is no salvation apart from Christ and (2) how salvation is accomplished through Christ. Anselm breaks from the early Church Fathers who mainly understood the atonement to be God triumphing over Satan, and argues that Christ died to satisfy God’s justice. Anselm marks the beginning of scholasticism and throughout this book he seeks to prove his points using logic alone, and not appealing to Scripture or revelation. Of course, I tend to think that all attempts to do this are bound to fail but Anselm was living in a very different world than us (and had been castrated) so what can I say?
4. From Glory to Glory: Texts from Gregory of Nyssa’s Mystical Writings compiled and introduced by Jean Danielou. It was interesting to read this book with Hans Boersma (one of my profs) since Boersma has a much more positive view of the Christian-Platonist synthesis that existed for several centuries of Christianity. I want to like Gregory because of his Universalism but I really struggle when it comes to reading authors who treat the bible like a spiritual allegory. I’ve got to get over that somehow, but I’m tempted to just toss the book out because the hermeneutics seem so ridiculous.
5. The Freedom of a Christian, The Bondage of the Will, The Ninety-five Theses, and Theses for the Heidelberg Disputation by Martin Luther. I had fun reading these little selections by Luther. I was struck by his emphasis upon engaging in a cruciform theology, and particularly by his emphasis (in The Freedom of a Christian) that all the works Christians perform should be motivated by their love for their neighbours. Thus, summing up his argument that Christians are both lords over all (kings), and subject to all (priests), he says, “We conclude, therefore, that a Christian lives not in himself but in Christ and in his neighbour. Otherwise he is not a Christian. He lives in Christ through faith, in his neighbour through love. By faith he is caught up beyond himself into God. By love he descends beneath himself into his neighbour.”
6. Letters from Lake Como: Explorations in Technology and the Human Race by Romano Guardini. This pastoral reflection is actually a part of a “Ressourcement” series. Here, Guardini reflects upon the ways in which major technological changes have made it impossible for culture to remain human. This is so because human culture is premised upon an organic link to nature and a machine-based culture has severed that link. He explores this in various ways, laments much of the consequences of this, but ultimately embraces this culturally transition as an act of God. Therefore, he argues that this new technological culture must be humanised so that a new cosmos can burst forth. Guardini is a gentle writer but I do wonder if he has missed the mark a little here. Voices like McLuhan and Postman remind us that humanised media may not be as easy as we imagine. In fact, for certain media, it could prove to be impossible. Plus, I can’t shake the feeling that Hegel is haunting this book and giving Guardini a skewed perspective on history.
7. Semiotics and the Philosophy of Language by Umberto Eco. Read it, struggled with it, rather enjoyed it, and am blogging my way through it, so I won’t bother commenting here.
8. The Twelve Caesars by Gaius Suetonius Tranquillus. This is a beautiful little piece, written in the second century, that traces the lives of the Caesars from Julius Caesar to Domitian. The stories are well told and convey both the reality and the otherness of ancient Rome to the contemporary reader. Quite enjoyable.
9. Night by Elie Wiesel. I found it somewhat ironic that this book appeared on Oprah’s book club shortly after the scandal involving the memoirs of James Frey. There is no better way to restore one’s credibility than by exploiting the memoirs of a Holocaust survivor. However, Oprah’s thumbs-up meant that a book that I have been looking for (ever since I read The Crucified God back in 2001) was suddenly accessible everywhere. Wiesel tells a poignant and tragically insightful story that doesn’t linger on details, but also doesn’t pull any punches. He manages to walk a fine-line, not candy-coating anything, but also not using violence to titillate the reader. This book is recommended reading.
10. Naked by David Sedaris. This was just good, fun, mindless reading that made me laugh out loud several times. Sedaris’ autobiographical accounts have a way of striking a cord in a lot of people. We didn’t all grow up as obsessive-compulsive homosexuals working in apple processing plants, and visiting nudist colonies but, damn, we wished we did after reading this book.
11. Dos and Don’ts: 10 Years of Vice Magazine’s Street Fashion Critiques by Gavin McInnes. Remember when you were young and you thought is was hilariously bad-ass to say “fuck” and write rude words in the snow at Church retreats? Well, Gavin McInnes is the guy who never really stopped being like that and decided to make a job out of it by taking pictures of people on the street and writing captions about them. Honestly, these critiques crack me up more than most things. However, I should issue a disclaimer: this book does contain nudity, swearing, and vulgar humour. Unfortunately, due to the work I do, I have become quite desensitised to all of the above. Most Christians, however, have not. And if you are one of those Christians, do not even think about reading this book.
A Hermeneutics of Suffering?
Many people have considered Christian faith an easy thing, and not a few have given it a place among the virtues. They do this because they have not experienced it and have never tasted the great strength there is in faith. It is impossible to write well about it or to understand what has been written about it unless one has at one time or another experienced the courage which faith gives a man when trials oppress him.
~ Martin Luther, “The Freedom of a Christian”
They say that one needs to suffer in order to write a great work of literature. In this quote, Luther is suggesting that one must suffer in order to be a great exegete. More than that, Luther says that oppression is necessary if we are to understand Christianity. Of course, this is only a further reason why the kingdom of God is so often found among the poor, and not, alas, in churches (and perhaps even seminaries) full of wealthy, and even eager, Christians. So, for those of us who are training as Bible scholars, I wonder: how can suffering be established as a part of our curriculum?
The one who beholds what is invisible of God, through the perception of what is made, is not rightly called a theologian… But rather the one who perceives what is visible of God, God’s ‘backside’, by beholding the sufferings and the cross.
~ Martin Luther, “Theses for the Heidelberg Disputation”
Away, then, with those prophets who say to Christ’s people, “Peace, peace,” where there is no peace… Hail, hail to all those prophets who say to Christ’s people, “The cross, the cross,” where there is no cross.
~ Martin Luther, “The Ninety-five Theses”
Life of the Beloved
Men smile at the illusion cherished by those in love, they “see through” their sense of uniqueness as being some trick of nature; they have got used to love. But we are not permitted to get used to the love of God.
~ Hans Urs Von Balthasar, Prayer
Truly, as Nouwen also says, ours is the life of the beloved. And there is no getting used to such a thing. I often wonder how differently we Christians would live if we really experienced ourselves as God's beloved. I have had the opportunity to speak with Christian young people on many occasions — at Church conferences, camps, retreats, etc. — and I am continually struck by the fact that hardly anybody can identify with me when I talk about being known as God's beloved. Yet it was that knowledge, that experience, that transformed my life more than anything else. Time after time, I have looked over a crowd of Christian faces and wondered, “How do you not know this? If you have not known this why are you a Christian? What keeps you going?” No wonder so many Christians leave their faith behind when they leave their parents behind.
How is it that so many of God's people have become accustomed to God's love so that those words become just another Christian catchphrase? Being known as beloved is something wondrous, something that leaves us breathless and unsure if we are going to laugh or cry, dance or fall on our faces.
Yet, over the last few weeks, I have come to suspect that I have been losing focus on the Lover/Beloved relationship that exists between God and his Church and, therefore, by extension, between God and individual believers like me. It is the joy of the beloved that has empowered me to move into the sorrows of the (god)forsaken. When I lose sight of that I too quickly become angry and overwhelmed. Yes, I think this journey is one that leads to a cruciform brokenness, but it is a journey that should be undertaken joyfully, not grudgingly. It is on a cross that we gain the certainty that we too are God's Beloved Sons and Daughters.
Come quickly, Lord Jesus, come quickly.
Barth, Kung, and Us
I can't but remember that shortly before his death, Karl Barth told me that Hans Kung (whom he began to mistrust) had paid him a visit and said to him triumphantly: “We will witness a new Reformation in the Church.” And Barth answered “A reform would suffice”.
~ Hans Urs Von Balthasar, “On the Withdrawal of Hans Küng's Authorization to Teach”
Contemporary Protestants would do well to learn from Barth's words since we so often end up behaving like Kung. Let us reform our traditions, not continue to fracture further. The solution to the Church's problems is not found in reinventing the Church (or abandoning the Church altogether). For some reason each successive generation seems to want to do this, yet each generation fails to do this. The true solution to the Church's problems is found by moving deeper into the Church. When this becomes our approach then perhaps we will succeed where other generations have failed.
Semiotics for Dummies (i.e. me): Part II
Okay, having covered Eco’s introduction I will now summarise his first chapter. Of the chapters I’ve read so far (I’m about two thirds of the way through) this one was the most difficult to understand the thought progression so I’ll try to break it down as clearly as possible with the hope that I get what Eco is talking about.
[1] Signs
Quick Overview: Because this is a book of semiotics (i.e. the study of signs), Eco begins at the beginning and explains what exactly he understands a ‘sign’ to be. He begins with traditional definitions of signs and explains why such definitions have been called into question [1.1]. He then goes on to summarise several ways in which dictionaries and everyday language talk about ‘sign’ [1.2], and then asks if a sign must be intensional or extensional [1.3]. At this point he examines those who propose that signs should be understood as a linguistic entity [1.4], before looking at the multiple ways in which contemporary scholars have deconstructed the linguistic sign [1.5]. This discussion leads Eco to reexamine the relationship between signs and words [1.6] and he examines how the Greek Stoics began to formulate a solution [1.7] which was then developed by Augustine and later models that unified linguistic theories and semiotic theories [1.8]. It is this approach to signs that has been so vigorously attacked by the scholars in [1.5], and so, in response to this Eco begins to develop his own “instructional model” of signs, which overcomes the dichotomy often posited between signs and semiotics [1.9]. In support of his theory, Eco discusses “strong codes and weak codes [1.10], and looks at abduction and the inferential nature of signs [1.11]. This leads him to his criterion of interpretability, which is basically the thesis of his book [1.12], and he then closes with a few remarks on the relation between sign and subject, which prepares the way for chapter 2 [1.13].
Okay, so that’s all well and good but what the hell does this all mean? I’ll break it down, section be section.
In [1.1], Eco mentions traditional definitions of ‘sign’ which see a sign as “something which stands to somebody for something in some respect or capacity” (Peirce). This is basically a restatement of the classical definitions which understood a sign to be aliquid stat pro aliquo (i.e. “that which is there stands for that which is not”). Thus, as Saussure suggests, a sign is a twofold entity, it is a signifier and a signified. Or, as it is more technically put by Hjelmslev, a sign is a mutual correlation between two functives, the expression-plane (i.e. signifier) and the content-plane (i.e. signified). However, these definitions are undergoing a crisis, and some have thus proclaimed the death of the sign. This is so for a few reasons. The first is because of how ‘sign’ is commonly used, and the second is because of a sustained assault be scholars upon these traditional definitions.
Thus, in [1.2], Eco examines many ways in which dictionaries and everyday language talk about ‘sign’.
The first way sees the sign as a manifest indication from which inferences can be made about something latent. This can occur in two ways: through a synechdochic relationship (i.e. as if the sign were a peripheral manifestation of something which does not appear in its entirety) or through a metonymic relationship (i.e. as if the sign is a visible imprint left by an imprinter on a surface, and the imprint tells us something about the imprinter). The key to this type is an inferential mechanism: it argues that if p then q.
The second way sees signs as a gesture produced with the intention of communication. Here a relation of equivalence is important, not a relation of inference. Thus p is equivalent to q.
The third way sees signs as symbols which represent abstract objects, like logical formulas or diagrams. There are also inferential and iconic or analogical.
The fourth way sees signs as diagrams, or pictures that bear a likeness to that which they represent.
The fifth way sees signs as drawing in an abstract or stylised form. These are also iconic but are arbitrary because they are in a state of catachresis (i.e. the are used in ways that violate the norms of a language community; they are used in the ‘wrong’ context).
The sixth way sees signs as an expression where the aliquid instead of standing for, stands where a certain operation is to be addressed. So this type is instruction. If p now, and if you therefore do z, then you will obtain q.
Therefore, in [1.3], Eco argues that we clearly have too many things that are ‘signs’. In order to overcome this problem we need to ask if signs are an intensional device (i.e. a set of all possible things a word could describe) or an extensional device (i.e. a set of all the actual things a word describes). Are we looking at relationships of equivalence or of inference? How far can this inference be pushed? And what constitutes a sign? The actual phonetic utterance of a word or the lexical model which the word represents?
Eco begins to examine some “elusive solutions” in [1.4]. First, he points to people like Malmberg who argue that the word ‘sign’ only applies to linguistic entities. ‘Symbols’ are these elements which represent something else, while ‘signs’ are reserved for language. However, Eco argues that this approach does not (a) explain to what extent signs are related to symbols; (b) which science should study symbols and which categories should be employed; and (c) the relationship between intension and extension is not clear. Thus, this approach is too problematic.
Second, Eco points to scholars like Harman who break down the traditional definition of a ‘sign’ into three separate theoretical subjects: (1) the theory of the intended meaning; (2) the theory of evidence; and (3) the theory of pictorial depiction. However, this approach is also too problematic because it clashes with the linguistic usage of ‘sign’ which has united these three categories for over 2000 years, and it also clashes with the ‘philosophical instinct’, which realises how inextricably linked intended meaning is with evidence and pictorial depiction.
In [1.5], Eco then goes on to examine further attempts to deconstruct the linguistic sign. Apart from a focus on linguistic signs, all these attempts tend to dissolve the sign into entities of greater or lesser purport.
First, he examines Hjelmslev’s approach which distinguishes between signs and figurae. Hjelmslev sees the traditional sign as too large and so he identifies figurae at the content level. Thus, language is not a pure sign system. Language is a system of figurae that are used to construct signs. However, this approach is problematic because it does not account for signs that cannot be broken down into multiple figurae.
Second, scholars like Buyssens argue that the sign is to small and the semantic unit is the seme (i.e. the sentence). This shifts the focus from language as a system of signification to language as a process of communication, but it is problematic because it divides the two approaches when they should be understood as complementary.
Third, Saussure argues that the elements of the signifier and of the signified are set in a system of oppositions in which there are only differences. The correlation of the content-plane with the expression-plane is also given by a difference. Thus the sign exists by a dialectic of presence and absence. Thus, along the lines of Derrida and (much earlier) Leibniz, the whole sign system dissolves into a network of fractures, and since the presence of one element requires the absence of another the argument is “autophagous” (i.e. self-devouring).
Fourth, Lacan argues that the semiotic chain is merely a chain of signifiers. The signified is continually transformed into a signifier through a process of perpetual substitution. However, this is merely a misunderstanding based on wordplay for, in any given context, there will be a specific signifier, and a specific signified.
Fifth, there is the view of Barthes, Derrida, and Kristeva, that argues that signification occurs exclusively within a given text. Thus, meaning is located solely within a text, and the text alone determines the meaning of a sign. However, this is problematic because texts are always produced within communities and the draw from, and manipulate, signs that pre-existed the text.
Sixth, Kristeva further develops the notion of a sign based on categories of ‘similitude’ and ‘identity’. This is rooted in the notion of equivalence. However, this too is problematic for the equivalence model is a degenerate notion of linguistic signs.
Thus, having highlighted the various assaults on the traditional linguistic ‘sign’, Eco steps back to trace the development of the notion of the linguistic sign, in order to show how these critiques gained plausibility, and in order to then provide his alternative.
In [1.6], Eco looks at the relationship between the ‘sign’ and the ‘word’, beginning with Hippocrates and Parmenides. Initially the term ‘sign’ was not applied to words. Words were names, deceptive representations imposed on objects we think we know, that establish a pseudoequivalence with reality. ‘Signs’ were seen as evidence, inferences about the nature of reality. However, Plato and Aristotle shifted the focus of the discussion and words were examined looking at (a) the difference between the signifier and the signified; and (b) the difference between signification and reference. Signification says what a thing is, reference says that a thing is. Throughout Aristotle’s writings there is a reluctance to use the term sign (semeion) for words; rather, words were seen as symbols, a more neutral term at that time. Aristotle continues to see signs as proofs/evidences, and as such they only apply to words when he talks about words are a proof that one has something in one’s mind to express. He does not equate linguistic symbols with natural signs.
However, in [1.7], Eco examines how the Stoics propel the issue forward. The Stoics do not totally integrate a theory of language and a theory of sign. What they do is create a distinction between expression, content and referent. The expression is the actual articulated sound, the referent is that which the sound refers to, and the content is an incorporeal bridge between the two. It is a lekton (i.e. an ‘expressible’). Signs refer to something immediately evident which leads to some conclusion about the existence of something not immediately evident. As such signs can be commemorative deriving from an association (confirmed by preceding experience) between two events, or they can be indicative pointing to something which has never been evident, and probably never will be. Therefore, for the Stoics the theory of language becomes closely associated with the theory of signs. Signs only emerge insofar as they are rationally expressible through the elements of language, language is articulate inasmuch as it expresses meaningful events, and language thus becomes the primary system through which all other systems are expressed.
Thus in [1.8], Eco looks at how the theory of signs and the theory of language are unified, with the predominance of linguistics. Augustine unites the two theories arguing that signs is the genus while linguistic signs are the species, but overtime the model of the linguistic sign gains dominance and is seen as the semiotic model par excellence. Thus The linguistic model was flattened and crystallised into the form used by the dictionary and by a lot of formal logic which had to fill its empty symbols only for the sake of exemplification. Therefore, the notion of meaning as synonymy gained precedence and lead us to the situation in which we now find ourselves.
Therefore, in [1.9], Eco proposes a way forward — “the instructional model” — which differs from the critiques raised by the deconstructionists. Eco’s solution is that the meaning of a categorematic term (i.e. a term or phrase capable of standing as the subject or [especially] predicate of a proposition) or syncategorematic term (i.e. a term or phrase that cannot stand as the subject or [especially] the predicate of a proposition) is found in a set (a series, a system) of instructions for its possible contextual insertions and for its different semantic outputs in different contexts (all registered by the code). Thus, in this approach the semantic type is the description of the contexts in which the term can be expected to occur. This takes place through inference, and the process of recognising natural-events that generate sign-propositions also relies on this inference. Therefore, there is no difference between first level signification (i.e. signs) and second level signification (i.e. semiotics). The sign only exists because is has been constructed by the discipline which studies it.
Okay, so the meaning of a sign is produced through a contextual code but what is this code? In section [1.10], Eco examines strong and weak codes. This is basically an examination of the epistemological value of if and then within any context. Here Eco draws on Aristotle’s theory of necessary signs and weak signs, and this is tied to the notion of necessary and sufficient causes. A weak sign goes from effect to sufficient cause which, although it carries a degree of necessity, is still too broad and must be narrowed down. However, both diagnostic signs (which go back from the effect to the cause) and prognostic signs (which go form the cause to the possible effects) rely on equally weak causes. Therefore, the conditions of a necessity of a sign are socially determined, according to what codes a culture determines to be strong.
In [1.11], Eco looks at how to look at how cultures develop codes. This usually occurs through “daring inferences” especially through abduction, which is the tentative tracing of a system of signification rules which will allow a sign to acquire meaning. We look to a general frame because all induction (the process of deriving general principles form particular facts or instances) is governed by the coded rules of a broader system. In general there are three types of abduction:
First, there is hypothesis or an overcoded abduction which is when the law seems to be a given. This type relies on presuppositions that occur within the co-textual environment.
Second, there is an undercoded abduction where rules must be selected from a series of equiprobable alternatives.
Third, there is creative abduction in which a brand new explanation is developed (“invented ex nono“).
All of this leads to [1.12] and Eco’s criterion of interpretability which is that substitution (as in aliquid stat pro aliquo) is not only necessary for a sign, the possibility of interpretation is necessary as well. With this criterion we are able to move from the study of specific signs to a study of general semiotics. This is the case because interpreting a sign is to define the portion of the continuum which serves as its vehicle in its relationship with the other portions of the continuum. Thus, interpreting a sign is defining a portion through the use of other portions. Consequently, there is no death of the sign, only the death of signs that are based on equivalence.
Thus, Eco concludes in [1.13] with a comment on signs and subjects. Having rejecting signs premised upon equivalency (or equality/identity) he sees the sign as the locus for the semiosic process, and the instrument through which the subject is endlessly made and remade. And this is important because the map of semiosis, as defined by a given historical stage, tells us who we are and what to think.
Well, that was a mouthful. I doubt anybody will read this.
N.T. Wright in May
Attention: N.T. Wright is speaking at the Toronto School of Theology at a conference that runs from May 9-12, 2006.
So it looks like I'll be flying back to Ontario then. I mention this now so that all my Ontario friends and family members can budget accordingly and also attend (cf. http://www.ntwrightpage.com for further info). It's $200 (and more for me since I'm flying back for it) but if you start saving now you'll be able to afford it. It's worth it.
That's all.