Violence Renounced

Violence Renounced: René Girard, Biblical Studies and Peacemaking, Edited by Willard M. Swartley, Telford, PA: Pandora Press, 2000, 343 pages.

By Wayne Northey

“René Girard is, in my opinion, the most significant theorist of violence in the twentieth century (p. 72).”    So claims Charles Bellinger in a profound volume entitled The Genealogy of Violence. Such accolades abound in the academic and increasingly Christian theological worlds.  Not only has Girard generated an impressive list of publications himself, his work has elicited a vast array of secondary literature, in particular in the social sciences, literature, and theology.  Since 1990 an annual gathering called “Colloquium on Violence and Religion” attracts academics and activists internationally. A society publishes The Bulletin of the Colloquium on Violence and Religion, and an award-winning journal, Contagion: Journal of Violence, Mimesis, and Culture is published in response to Girard’s work.  Recently a five-part Canadian Broadcasting Corporation Ideas radio series produced by David Cayley (praised by Girard and repeatedly aired) made Girard’s thought accessible to a worldwide audience. 

It is no surprise then that an historic peace church tradition, the Mennonites, would hold a conference (in June, 1994) to interact with René Girard’s thought. As Bellinger writes in the volume quoted above: “I argue that [Girard presupposes] the paradigm for the interpretation of Christian history which forms the basis of Anabaptist thought.  This paradigm holds that an ethically disastrous ‘fall’ of Christian integrity took place during the age of Constantine.  Christianity’s apparent triumph over the world was in fact a defeat, from this point of view (p. 98).”  This book is volume four in “Studies in Peace and Scripture Series” sponsored by the Institute of Mennonite   Studies. Many years ago, Jacques Ellul suggested that no theologian would take Girard seriously due to his nonsacrificial reading of the biblical texts.  On the contrary!  This volume pulsates with just such dynamic interaction with Girard.

There is a Foreword, a Series Editors’ Preface, an Editor’s Preface, and an Introduction (by the Editor), before one gets to the two main parts, each made up of seven essays.  Part I is entitled “First Reading: Girard for Biblical Study and Theology”, and Part II, “Second Reading: Girardian Theory, Biblical and Critical Analyses, and Theological Critique”.  While one can become impatient with preliminaries, each of these is well worth reading.  And frankly, the “Introduction” is so well done by the book’s Editor, it is a stand-alone as the best succinct book review available. Nonetheless, I shall persevere…

As Swartley indicates in the Introduction, “… Girard beckons us to see that Scripture is the only literature in the world that exposes the violence perpetrated by humans, sides with the victim, and thus calls humans to renounce violence in the name of the One who forged for us another way to live and die (p. 26).”  “The first seven [essays] lay a foundation for the reader to understand Girard’s theories and how they interact with biblical study and basic theological doctrines, especially the atonement (p. 21).” 

Chapter Two begins: “There is a paradox in human religious experience.  On the one hand, religion is a main (perhaps the main) dynamic in death-dealing violence in the world.  On the other hand, religious faith also often provides the main basis for the fruitful rejection of violence (p. 49).”  One can hear John Lennon’s plaintive sentiment in “Imagine”: “And no religion too…” to appreciate the pathos behind a desire to rid the world of religiously motivated violence, Christian for sure, and otherwise.  Yet the univocal voice of the New Testament is nonviolent. And though religion therein is depicted as violent to the core, and thus rejected, so is “empire”.  “The empire, ultimately, is violent.  The empire is the force that nailed Jesus to the cross (16:4 – 7; 18:24). John presents evil not as the threat of anarchy but as the system of order.  This system of order institutionalizes violence as the foundation of its way of being (p. 62).”  Lennon could as legitimately have sung, “And no government too…” to capture the tragedy of state-sanctioned violence blessed, since the fourth-century legalization of Christianity by Roman Emperor Constantine, by majority Christendom including Western democracies which have as readily slaughtered their tens of thousands as have all totalitarian régimes past and present. “The empire (or all other states, including democratic ones) asks at times for loyalty that buttresses power politics and treats with violence any who threaten the peace and tranquility of the status quo (p. 65).”

Two helpful essays reappraise the books of Deuteronomy and Joshua.  Then the Book of Hebrews is discussed, a book Girard initially thought failed to delegitimize scapegoating as revealed in Christ.  The writer, Michael Hardin, observes helpfully: “This self-critical nature of the Bible is perhaps its most important asset – in that the religious culture that produced writings to justify violence also canonized writings that critique violence (p. 103).”  Acknowledging Girard’s earlier difficulty with Hebrews, Hardin says: “In contrast, our contention is that Hebrews subverts the sacrificial process, albeit under cover of sacrificial language (p. 103).”  He helpfully demonstrates his thesis, concluding: “Our observations have sought to show that this letter, while using the language of sacrifice, rejects all connections between violence and the sacred.  Instead, Hebrews offers a new paradigm of what real self-giving (human and divine) is all about (p. 116).”

Chapter Seven presents “An Incarnational Theory of Mimetic Participation” in understanding the atonement.  It is both critique and affirmation of elements of Girard’s rejection in particular of satisfaction and penal readings of the atonement.  Robin Collins depicts Girard’s reading as “essentially a highly original version of the moral influence theory… (p. 133).”  The essay raises some helpful alternative considerations, interacts suggestively with other religious traditions, in particular Buddhism, yet does not deliver adequately an alternative.  Perhaps the author would find helpful and corroborating J. Denny Weaver’s recent (2001) The Nonviolent Atonement, in its affirmation of a “narrative Christus Victor” understanding of atonement.

James Williams, author of Chapter Nine, “King as Servant, Sacrifice as Service: Gospel Transformations”, is both a Hebrew and a Greek scholar, and noted Girardian researcher.  In the essay before us, he explains: “My thesis is that the New Testament Gospels witness to and represent a transformation of sacral kingship (p. 179).” He concludes: “This revising of sacrificial language is a gospel transformation of the meaning of kingship and sacrifice.  It renders the ‘king’ as no longer the supreme differentiator through violence… Rather, he now is the differentiator through servanthood, through giving one-self rather than sacrificing – or letting others be sacrificed – in war and ritual (p. 194).” And: “My reading of the New Testament, to this point, leads me to the conclusion that in most of the instances where clear, heavily freighted sacrificial language is used, the sacrificial meaning is transformed.  This consistency could only be so because the New Testament has a real transformative center, the innocent victim, Son of man, Son of God, whose actuality cannot be swallowed up either in historicism or intertextuality (p. 195).”

As “Professor Emeritus” of Religion at Syracuse University, a secular setting, Williams makes some telling remarks about the extensive scapegoating of biblical texts and religion in secular academic (and other) contexts.  These connect to the immediately foregoing quote: “In intellectual culture there is a powerful stream of thought that attacks all models of authority, and this means that Christianity and the Bible are the primary objects of intellectual hostility…  It is an irony of history that the very source that first disclosed the viewpoint and plight of the victim is pilloried in the name of various forms of criticism…  My code word for this ideology is ‘multiculturalism.’  (Another code term is ‘political correctness,’…)

“However, it is in the Western world that the affirmation of ‘otherness,’ especially as known through the victim, has emerged.  And its roots sink deeply into the Bible as transmitted in the Jewish and Christian traditions…  the standpoint of the victim is our unique and chief biblical inheritance.  It can be appropriated creatively and ethically only if the inner dynamic of the biblical texts and traditions is understood and appreciated.  The Bible is the first and main source for women’s rights, racial justice, and any kind of moral transformation.  The Bible is also the only creative basis for interrogating the tradition and the biblical texts.  Why sell this birthright for a stew of multiculturalism? (pp. 195 & 196).”  In light of this plaintive plea for acknowledgement of the uniquely transformative power of the biblical text, Williams writes: “The paradigm periscope, Mark 10:35 – 45 [“Not so with you.  Instead, whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be slave of all (verse 43).”], is crucial because it witnesses to the Servant Son of man as the transformative center of the movement of faith and theology into ethics and practice.  It witnesses also to the movement of ethics and practice into belief and understanding (p. 196).”

Sandor Goodhart, a Jewish Girardian and biblical scholar, supplies a creative rereading of Isaiah’s Suffering Servant, in particular chapters 52 and 53.  Along the way he notes, contrary to much popular Christian scholarly opinion, “The criticism Jesus makes [of ‘the Jews’] is an internal Jewish affair…  It is with the tradition of prophetic criticism that Jesus speaks, not as repudiation of Judaism, nor of ‘the Jews’ – of which he is one (p. 204).  Goodhart posits the tensions between Jews and Christians ultimately as “something of a family quarrel.” He adds: “But considering Judaism and Christianity as part of a family – and not as a set of independent perspectives – we also open the potential for reconciliation and consequently for hope (p. 216).”  Though he acknowledges this is a long way in the future!

Chapter Eleven, “Discipleship and Imitation of Jesus/Suffering Servant: Mimesis of New Creation” by the Editor is a compelling call to imitation of Christ. “… what is necessary is a double transformation: that by transcendent provision we are given an object for mimesis whose very nature and action does not lead to rivalry when imitated, and that through the empowerment of this One our human desire(s) be transformed so that we will desire to imitate the nonrivalrous, nonviolent Person.

“In this chapter I seek to show that major strands of NT teaching are directed specifically to just this reality: transformation of desire that enables a positive, nonacquisitive mimesis. This study seeks to show how foundational and ubiquitous this idea is in the New Testament (pp. 218 & 219).”  The author accomplishes his task well!  Along the way, he challenges Luther’s view that any sense of imitation of Christ smacks of works-righteousness. On the contrary, failure to imitate Christ is part of the ethical malaise of an ahistorical satisfaction and penal substitution Atonement that reintroduces the violence renounced by Jesus, and leaves Christians ethically unchallenged about living out this rejection of violence in favour of love of neighbour/enemy modelled by Jesus!  As Bellinger states in the work cited above, “To a great extent, the history of Christianity is the history of the resistance of immature ‘Christians’ to the possibility that they could actually become followers [imitators] of Christ (p. 111).  Swartley concludes his study:  “A mimesis pattern lies at the heart of NT thought.  Any theology or ethics of the NT should make this point foundational, but few do…  Further, the pervasive NT teaching on ‘love of enemy’ and ‘nonretaliation against evil’ is the outworking of this new mimesis in an ethic for conflictual relations.  To pursue these themes adequately requires another paper (p. 239).” The author then points to earlier presentations in the “Studies” series of which this book is volume four.

Jim Fodor’s Chapter Twelve, “Christian Discipleship as Participative Imitation: Theological Reflections on Girardian Themes”, complements Swartley’s contribution, which he indicates.  He says: “By developing some of Swartley’s ideas in a more wide-ranging and intentionally theological manner, I hope to set the notion of imitation and discipleship in a Trinitarian framework that will encourage a distinctively Christian appreciation of Girard’s insights regarding mimesis and imitative desire (p. 248).” Along the way, Fodor critiques Girard’s lack of theological development of biblical themes, especially the Trinity and the Cross/Resurrection.  He does not fault Girard for his primary anthropological reading of the New Testament, rather delineates modifications and supplementations necessary to affirm Girard theologically. He concludes: “Christians may, no doubt, find in Girard an important ally…  In these matters, however, the ore always comes mixed with clay… (p. 266).” Fodor’s is a sobering biblical challenge and corrective to aspects of Girardian thought.

Chapter Thirteen by Rebecca Adams, “Loving Mimesis and Girard’s ‘Scapegoat of the Text’: A Creative Reassessment of Mimetic Desire” proposes “that we examine the Girardian theory [of mimetic desire] itself as a metanarrative to see how it performs according to its own insights about violence (p. 278).”  A central critique of Girard’s thought is its failure to construe positive mimetic desire. Adams believes that in fact, therefore, positive mimesis is scapegoated by Girard, a fact he fails to acknowledge.  Her development of this theme becomes very technical, and presupposes an intimate knowledge of Girardian theory not present in most readers of this review.  Adams proposes that with her corrective to Girard’s scapegoating of positive mimetic desire that Girard’s “mimetic theory becomes much more convincing as a general theory, one on which we might build a common ethic, understanding of human beings, and practice of peacemaking (p. 298).”  She spells out several compelling ramifications of her reassessment.  She concludes: “From a reassessed Girardian point of view, the implication is that to imitate (follow in the way of) love in the way I have described is to ‘imitate Christ.’  To participate in an intersubjective dynamic of loving creativity with others through mimetic desire is to imitate, image, or reflect God.  I do not believe it is essential to have the Judeo-Christian Scriptures to understand, or more importantly, to participate in this truth.  However, I do believe Christianity does have a unique claim regarding the gospel revelation from a Girardian point of view, a claim which has been made by no other religious tradition or human system of thought: that is that Jesus is the full, historical incarnation of this love which is both fully human and fully divine, and this love is stronger than any system of death which tries to contain it (p. 302).”

Finally, Chapter Fourteen, entitled “Violence Renounced” is a response by René Girard.  In it, he revisits “the main subject of the symposium, which is also my one field of competence, the ‘mimetic theory.’ (p. 308).”  Regrettably, he does not interact with the more critical assessments immediately prior to his own chapter.  He asserts however the independently (of religious faith) verifiable nature of the truth of mimetic desire.  “The biblical revelation (exposure) of mythology is no ‘mystical’ insight.  It rests on commonsensical observations.  It requires no religious commitment to be understood…  Far from being an ethnocentric prejudice in favour of our own religion, the Judeo-Christian claim to unique truthfulness, almost universally reviled and ridiculed these days, is objectively, verifiably true (p. 313).”  And again: “The traditional problems that divide Christian believers among themselves and even Christians from Jews pale into insignificance, it seems to me, compared to the intellectual and spiritual revolution that the palpable proof of the Judeo-Christian truthfulness entails. The mimetic theory turns the supposedly ‘scientific’ basis for religious scepticism into its very opposite.  It does not demonstrate the religious truth of the Judeo-Christian tradition, which cannot be done, as we all know, but it does the next best thing: it demonstrates its anthropological truth (pp. 314 & 315).” 

In response, I am influenced in the direction of Bellinger’s critique, in the volume cited already a few times: “In my opinion, Girard ought to drop the pretense of adhering to the methodological atheism of social science, which has decreed that religious postulates are unacceptable foundations for understanding human behaviour… [that is] the forced agnosticism of the Enlightenment paradigm (p. 88).” Furthermore, as Fodor’s essay points out, the claim of “scientific” verifiability “is nothing more than a certain ability or explanatory power that enables one to account for all the data (p. 259).”  But if this is what is meant, then it is not so objectively verifiable after all.  And of course, in fact, Girard’s theories are disputed.  It is more accurate to say that Girard’s claims are “true” in the context of a certain community of dialogue (à la Michael Polanyi) to which he belongs.  To which Bellinger says: “He ought to write straightforwardly as a Christian apologist and argue that a theological mode of knowing is required for real insight into human behaviour (p. 88).”

One could wish, given their subsequent publications, that J. Denny Weaver on Atonement, and Charles Bellinger on originary violence theories in general, had been brought into the discussion in this volume. Their books, both alluded to in this review, significantly contribute to the issues raised in this volume. Nonetheless, the entire collection of essays is eminently worthwhile reading.  Not one fails to deliver at least minimally.  And many advance the discussion significantly of peacemaking in a violent world.