Can We Handle the Truth? July 13, 2009
Posted by Ryan in Books, WWJD.trackback
By Ryan J. Bell
This is the first post in a six-part series in the re-church Summer Reading Group. The six posts will correspond to the six chapters of What Would Jesus Deconstruct?, by John D. Caputo. Next week’s post will be written by Samir Selmanovic, founder of Faith House Manhattan and author of the forthcoming book, It’s Really All About God.
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The title of the book, which we will be discussing here on the re-church blog, is a play on the title of the classic Christian novel, In His Steps, by Charles Sheldon. I distinctly remember reading this book when I was in college, over 100 years after it was originally published. It had a profound impact on me at the time. It helped me to see an important connection that I had mostly missed up that point in my life. Namely that my profession of faith in Jesus needed to have very tangible results in how I lived my life. Coming from a very conservative place at that time in my life, I was intimately familiar with the idea that my faith should make my life different. But that difference was always in the realm of personal piety and cultural taboos – “Do not handle! Do not taste! Do not touch!” (Col 2:21). But what Sheldon was suggesting is that my faith in Jesus had everything to do with how I treated others and even the systems of oppression that keep people broken.
At that point in my life I knew nothing of the social gospel (as an actual movement or as an epithet). Nor had the Christian marketing machine yet gotten a hold of this slogan, “What Would Jesus Do?” and made a mint off bumper stickers, T-shirts, bracelets and Special Edition Bibles. Since that time, as Caputo rightly notes, the slogan, “What would Jesus do?” has been used as a weapon in the modern culture wars.
What Caputo is setting out to do, in this book, is to suggest that what Jesus would do – indeed, what Jesus did and does – is deconstruct the religious edifices we have built in his name, i.e. Christianity in its various expressions.
Perhaps now is a good time for a word about “deconstrution.” If you are new to philosophy, and postmodern philosophy in particular (and I am by no means an expert on this, though we do have some experts in our midst), I would suggest that you try to put out of your mind what the word “deconstruction” sounds like to you. If you try to understand what Caputo, following Jacques Derrida, is talking about by thinking of what you know of the English word “deconstruction,” you will probably be misled.
In the first chapter Caputo offers several definitions of “deconstruction” (though I don’t think he is setting out to give us definitions). Let’s look at these:
“…deconstruction is treated as the hermeneutics of the kingdom of God, as an interpretive style that helps get at the prophetic spirit of Jesus.”
“Deconstruction is good news, because it delivers the shock of the other to the forces of the same, the shock of the good (the “ought”) to the forces of being (“what is”)….”
“Deconstruction is organized around the idea that things contain a kind of uncontainable truth, that they contain what they cannot contain. Nobody has to come along and “deconstruct” things. Things are auto-deconstructed by the tendencies of their own inner truth.”
“Deconstruction is memory.”
There are more, but these are the main statements. What is important to see here is that deconstruction, while in its English colloquial sense, sounds like something damaging or destructive it is actually something hopeful and, perhaps ironically, “constructive” even though it is sure to be painful, transformational and threatening to the status quo. To engage in this kind of deconstruction is an act of faithfulness. Remember that Jesus was perceived to be unfaithful by the religious establishment of his day. (Why is it that we always think we are the exception?)
So one of the things that Caputo points out is that Sheldon’s book, or more specifically, the slogan, WWJD, is a kind of Trojan horse in the conservative evangelical establishment. It is as though the evangelical wing of the church has inadvertently grabbed a hold of the tail of a cobra. Latent within the slogan WWJD is the sharp critique of the church that exists for its own sake, congratulating itself for its righteousness. Sheldon’s act of deconstruction, if we can put it that way, was to suggest that the church had lost its teeth. The story, from which the slogan is lifted, is a challenge for the church to engage in changing the broken structures of society instead of sitting piously in the pews singing hymns while the world burns.
Adventism even more than Christianity in general, has put a great deal of emphasis on knowing “the truth.” We even use the word “Truth” as a kind of shorthand for Adventism as a denomination or movement. In this chapter, Caputo claims that deconstruction is an act of truth – “a hermeneutics of truth,” as he puts it. It seems to me that these two uses of the word truth are almost completely opposed to one another. The one standing for those who have carefully packaged “the truth” and the other for the “event” of the truth that is uncontainable, undeconstructable. The truth that Caputo is talking about is a truth that subverts the institutions that attempt to contain and control the truth and use it as a tool, or even as a weapon, to manipulate and control others.
How are we doing as being followers of Jesus who overturned the money changers’ tables in the Temple, daring to suggest that the truth could not be contained in the Temple?
I think one of the most important statements in this chapter is this,
“The question [What would Jesus do?] presupposes the inescapable reality of history and of historical distance, and it asks how that distance can be crossed. Or better, conceding that this distance cannot be crossed…it asks how that irreducible distance can be made creative. How does our distance from Jesus illuminate what he said and did in a different time and place and under different historical circumstances? And how does Jesus’ distance from us illuminate what we must say and do in the importantly different situation in which we find ourselves today? The task of the church is to submit itself to this question…” (34).
There is so much other good material in this chapter that I have not commented on, especially the section entitled,”The Church Is Plan B,” which seems like it could have been a whole chapter of its own. Perhaps I’ll write another post just on this section.
What stand out to you from what you’ve read?
How can we remain faithful to a tradition and still embrace the deconstructive nature of truth itself? Put differently, how can we be both radically committed to the truth wherever it leads us and at the same time be rooted in a tradition that has given us life?
What is your experience of Jesus Christ, Deconstrutor?
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Ryan Bell is the pastor of the Hollywood Adventist Church and the co-founder and coordinator for the re-church network.
Sheldon’s failure to secure a proper copyright on his book was itself a prophetically deconstructive act to what Caputo called the ‘bumper-sticker’ commodification of the Word. The church has hijacked the graspless Christ, mistakenly repackaging and gift-wrapping our ’straw man’, petulantly crying foul when the market rejects our impotent idol. As soon as we take, we control, thus become God-denying, fortune telling agents, in the world. Rather, Christ grasps us playfully – twisting us, turning us, managing us through paradox, wonder, and inexhaustible and dangerous questions till every cell of our being yields to his name alone. Truth is process, being, wind, and fire – alone in control of us. Anything we handle quickly turns to ashes, yet in His into beauty. Far better to be embodied by Truth, rather than systematically weaving together our ‘facts’ as if they were finale. Truth, to borrow from Caputo, is sacred, when it is ‘query’. All else is fair game.
Bill…nicely said! Very poetic as well…thank you!
Excellent summary of an excellent chapter. I’d like to see another post on the church being plan b because that was brilliant. The “Lost” analogy was perfect.
The most important take-away from this chapter for me was the idea that the question WWJD is not to be used as a club to beat others up but to deconstruct ourselves. All too often I read Scripture looking for arguments against versions of Adventism and Christianity I don’t like. It’s not what I want to do, but unfortunately it happens all too often. This book has provided another challenge to examine myself and stop that harmful tendency.
On the denomination side: Could we say that Adventist Church was birthed out of a deconstructive streak? Weren’t they looking for the truth and critiquing current versions of Christianity and finding them lacking? If that is so, it means that the church has to be careful with over-deconstructing others and not allowing itself to be deconstructed as Caputo warns. Also, it means that groups such as Re-Church and Spectrum, as well as individual believers, can point to our history of deconstruction as evidence we need to continue that same streak today, just including a critique of ourselves instead of against other denominations.
Trevan, funny you should bring that up. At the very last minute I deleted this paragraph from my post above:
The reason I deleted it was that I started to pick holes in it. The Adventist pioneers were not thinking at the level of postmodern deconstruction in what they were doing. Not at all. This is a category mistake, I think, and that’s why I deleted the paragraph. But what you’ve helped me realize, and as Caputo says, the truth was auto-deconstructing in front of these pioneers and they (mis)interpreted these things the best they could.
Nice! I’m liking this conversation already!
Yeah I agree that it was not deconstruction in it’s truest sense and felt a bit uneasy as I was writing it. Perhaps it’s best to say they were working within the general spirit of what we would now consider deconstruction?
Thanks for bringing up the truth as auto-deconstructing concept because that was a profound idea.
Ryan, please do not deconstruct The Pioneers
! “The best they could” was indeed awesome, and I need to admire them, even at the expense of overlooking silly stuff. They are like our version of Saints that would understand current envelope pushers if they would look at as all from heavens today. I would pray to St. Bates.
Hey Ryan,
Nice introductory post. Thanks for getting us started and for organizing us. I’d really love to see another one on “Church as Plan B” as well (because we know you have nothing better do this week.)
I found Caputo’s discussion of on (39-31) particularly salient to our own community’s rhetoric of having/possessing “present truth.” We have identified this as as being truths about the Sabbath, health, the investigative judgement, sanctification, and the second coming..
Caputo reminds us that the real present truth about the Truth is that Truth is something no one possesses–”The truth is not the stuff of edifying hymns, rather it is dangerous, dirty, and smelly business” (29). It should not make us smug and secure, but uncomfortable.
I also thought this quote applied to Adventism as well: “The next time we look up to heaven and piously pray, ‘Come, Lord Jesus,’ we may find that he is already here, trying to get warm over an urban steam grate or trying to cross our borders” (30).
Ouch.
Oh, and I loved your question: “How are we doing as being followers of Jesus who overturned the money changers’ tables in the Temple, daring to suggest that the truth could not be contained in the Temple?”
Okay, so I’m back already. Trying to do something else, but kept thinking about Adventism and “truth.”
The way I see it, the issue with our community is not “the truth” per se, but what we have identified this truth to be. We have identified it with the doctrines that make us different from other Christians. In other words, we think that these distinctive beliefs are higher and more important than the beliefs affirmed by “everyone else”–God and what he is like because of Jesus revelation to us.
I think this is an erroneous emphasis. While our distinctive beliefs are not to be denied; they are not fundamental to who we are, and not as nearly as important as the other beliefs we share with other Christians.
Of course, these truths we share, as Caputo reminds us, should not be confused with the greater Truth/reality they point to, nor should assenting to them be confused with actually living out their practical implications. But with this said, Christian “truths”, i.e. the Trinity, the Incarnation, Atonement (although I know Caputo has a problem with this one), etc. are more important for Adventists to treasure and affirm as “present truth” than our distinct beliefs.
Okay, back to work now…
It’s also important to understand that the “truth” that Caputo is talking about is the truth that comes from below, from outside the authorized channels, from the ‘other’, and confronts our verities, our settled truths.
Are there mechanisms in the church (I’m thinking here for denominational systems as well as my own local church) for listening to the ‘minority reports’ and allowing this radical deconstructive critique to keep us faithful?
I think you’re right about ‘distinctive beliefs’. The emphasis on distinctives over shared beliefs always feels to me like a way to have a corner on the market of truth, which ends up being totalizing and destructive. This is what I understand the French theorists to be addressing most of all.
After 15 years of hearing “but if you deconstruct our special truths, role, and identity, then what will be become of Adventism” and wholeheartedly agreeing with (and dishing it to others myself) this fearful warnings, I began meeting other Christians (“the other”). I simply answered “what would become of us” question with “we would deepen our identity.” When all abandon ‘the other’ the Remnant remains with and on the side of ‘the other.’” Remnant remains with the Kingdom of God!
And by extension. When we grasp and accept the fact that we are ‘the other,’ that we need hospitality, kindness, and blessing in order to live, we will never be safe or simply interesting sojourners with other Christians.
Thanks for the helpful clarification, Ryan. To answer your question, I think we are traditionally very bad at dealing with the “minority” reports from within our own narrow ranks, although, I’d like to think this is changing. We were once the oppressed “minority” and now we, whoever is us and on our side, oppress others that do not agree with us in our ways. Alas, church history keeps repeating itself whether we like it or not.
The internet is one of the major equalizers, in all this, I think, with blogs (like this among others) that try to keep us all honest.
In Caputo’s use of the word deconstruct, there was a clear link into the reality of what happens when the words of another era plays out in the context of our today. Every generation is forced to adapt what came before. There are no easy applications for the individual that intends to embrace with heart and mind.
I find Caputo inviting the reader to examine without constraints what Jesus and truth means in the context of our today. To step/not. As others have highlighted, this is not about something over there but here. It is not about something merely in the mind, but of the heart. It is not about preserving but serving.
I am haunted by the implied questions of what I am not willing to let go, what I demand be preserved, and what I think is sacred. Transformation and deconstructing suggest things work best when I hold these “things” with gentle hands.
I think in a way the Adventist pioneers did deconstruct the religious establishment. of their time The problem as I see it is that the assumption was (or more likely became) that the purpose of deconstruction was/is to clear a space so that a true religion can be ‘reconstructed’. Their initial hesitance to form a denomination and their desire to avoid writing a creed suggests to me that the early Adventists may have recognized this problem. Most of us since then have most certainly not.
Peter Rollins once said in an interview (and I am paraphrasing from memory) that the purpose of deconstruction is not a one time demolition to clear a space so that something else can be reconstructed. Rather, deconstruction is the ongoing heat that keeps fluid beliefs from freezing solid.
Deconstruction then should be an ongoing process in which we continually seek present truth from different perspectives thus leading to an underlying ethos that prevents us from remaining the “frozen chosen.” This misunderstanding of deconstruction as a one time deal leads to the idea of cornering the market on truth that you describe. However, I find that many of our distinctive beliefs actually provide common ground with other faiths. Consider for example looking at our Sabbath belief and practice through the eyes of our Jewish brothers. Or, look at our practice of avoiding pork and alcohol through the eyes of our Muslim sisters.
I am sure Samir can speak to this with much greater wisdom and experience than I can. However, I was intrigued to hear Jon Pauline identify what he sees as the three unique beliefs in the three major monotheistic religions which are more or less rejected by the others as follows: Judaism – law, obedience, and sabbath; Christianity – gospel, grace, and Jesus; Islam, submission, eschatology, and judgement. Sound familiar? I recognize aspects of all of these to a greater or lesser extent in Adventism and I see them in a much more positive light looking through the eyes of the other.
My hope is that there are others who are interested in seeking common ground. This broader concept of ecumenism far surpasses the Christian ecumenism so feared by those who want to freeze our beliefs at some point around the turn of the last century. I hope that if God wants to use our small community as a catalyst to help bring religions together we won’t remain so frozen in our thinking that we lack the ability to feel the warmth of God’s presence in the other.
Brenton,
Your comment has gotten me thinking about the many “levels” of theological/religious “otherness” that exist around us. We as a tradition have loosely and broadly identified everyone that is not a part of our community as “non-Adventists.” This is a very ambigious category that needs much refining.
Within our own tradition, we are discovering “others”, as we meet people both more conservative and liberal than ourselves.
Outside our tradition, we are getting better at relating to Christian “others”, realizing we share much in common, and have much to learn.
These others become our sisters and brothers, as we encounter non-Christian “others”. Once again, we share much in common, and once again, we have much to learn.
These other others, also become our sisters and brothers, as we encounter, irreligious and secular “others”, who keep all us religious folks honest.
Lastly, when we encounter hostile aliens from another planet, we will realize we are all just humans!
What unites “us” and distinguishes “us” from “them” changes with each context.
There is a line in this chapter about creating havoc via the deconstruction of the Church (my paraphrase – and I’m to lazy to walk over and pick up the book). Not to sound arrogant, but this seems like the storm I’ve been weathering.
When I arrived at the church I’m currently departing, I began to ask why questions. I began to differentiate between Truth and truth. Adventists are really good at the truth, but we ignore John 14:6 when we do that. I began to ask what is “Present Truth” for today – the Investigative Judgment, 2300 days, etc are great discoveries – and important ones. But what is next? What is today’s present truth?
I began to seeking to lead people into an authentic, real, and transparent discovery of our Lord – not so much as a Savior (which is important), but as one whose character, love, and power we are to worship.
Someone once said, “If you get too far out front, you begin to look like the enemy.” As I read this chapter, I was struck over and over by the great needs and sins in the Church today. The hypocrisy, pride, and self-appointed authority is devastating to people’s image of God.
I began to wonder, how can we continue in this path? How can we read this book, have this discussion, and follow through with the principles and remain employed? I have not.
So easy to identify with you Gary. We expect church to embody the story of Christ, and it often fails so miserably, it makes sens to be indignant. I find myself bitter at times.
I heard another saying long ago from a little church lady who wanted to advise her young new pastor, something like “You will know you love well, when your enemy stops fearing your victory.” Talking about being deconstructed!
I think that one’s love for Plan B is one of the ways we step into the Kingdom of God. I love Caputo’s line about “the structural gap, the irreducible distance that exists between itself [church] and Jesus.” Once that gap is intellectually and emotionally accepted, then we are free to love the bad old church. Once we accept that the church is not It, that it exists to grow the Kingdom of God (imperfectly as we are imperfect) and not for church to USE the Kingdom of God to grow itself, then we are free to love it, criticize it, forgive it, and enjoy it!
Adventism is a mess, but it is a peculiar, often sweet, and at times life-giving one! Without Adventist church, I would probably now be running a construction company in Croatia, with huge belly grown with inordinate amounts of beer, cheating on taxes and my wife. I credit Plan B for putting me in touch with Plan A as nothing else could.
Caputo’s concept of the church as plan B is key.
When we started our Sabbath School in Birmingham, we painted a diagram from one of Brian McLaren’s books on the wall to illustrate the relationship of the church and the Kingdom of God. On the right are two separate circles separated by an arrow illustrating the idea that the two are separate with the Kingdom arriving only in the future. In the middle are two intertwined circles with arrows pointing inward illustrating the idea that the two are identical. On the left is a parabola overlapping a circle with arrows pointing out toward the expanding parabola illustrating the idea that the church serves as a catalyst for the present and yet-to-come Kingdom of God.
Questions, changes, or much less criticisms of the church are often mistaken as attacks on God since the church and Kingdom of God are often conflated. Caputo reminds us that Jesus would deconstruct the church because the Church’s role is like that of John the Baptist to prepare the way and then give way to the Kingdom of God.
Love this line:
“Once we accept that the church is not It, that it exists to grow the Kingdom of God (imperfectly as we are imperfect) and not for church to USE the Kingdom of God to grow itself, then we are free to love it, criticize it, forgive it, and enjoy it!”
I’m trying to imagine you in a hard-hat and a bottle of beer. Plan B doesn’t seem too bad…=)
Sorry, “holding a bottle”, not in it…lol.
The first chapter was very interesting. I have fond memories of watching the film of In His Steps in college (Andrews, 1983 or so) and then reading the book, and being deeply impressed by it.
In the years since, it’s come to seem to me that the biggest problem wtih asking “What Would Jesus Do?” is that it’s so easy to co-opt Jesus to our own agendas and desires. Sometimes it seems the only question we can answer with any kind of confidence is “What DID Jesus do?” because at least we have the gospels to go by, and from there we have to decide how best to apply His example to our situations.
When I read this chapter, I thought of two of my favourite quotes: “If you think you understand, it isn’t God” (which I have seen attributed both to Kierkegaard and to St. Augustine; take your pick) and “You can be sure you’ve created God in your own image when God hates all the same people you do” (which I know is from Anne Lamott). I’ve never had a really good handle on what “deconstruction” means (despite a couple of degrees in which I was required to pretend I did), but I wonder if the idea of Jesus as the Deconstructor somehow relates to these quotes. If I think I’ve got sewn up neatly in a doctrinal package what Jesus would do, what Jesus wants me to do, and even whom Jesus would hate … then the “real” Jesus (insofar as we can know Him) will always appear as an iconoclast, shattering my preconceived notions.
If “What Jesus Would Do” fits neatly and comfortably with all my own preferences, prejudices and plans, that’s probably not Jesus.
I get so bent out of shape when it comes to people that preach/teach such a black and white, dogmatic message when it comes to what I deem as peripheral issues. Simply put, I am hearing people preach for an hour plus on styles of music, dress, language, etc. I hate to confess this to this audience, but sometimes in my people-pleasing mode I question my own sincerity/commitment/salvation based on some of these preachers.
In talking to what most people would consider to be an “ultra conservative” preacher recently, he told me that such black and white thinking is merely a sign of spiritual immaturity. Hardly believing my ears, I had to repeat it to make sure that I heard him correctly.
Piggy backing on what “da main” Zane quoted/stated, I had an exclamation and circled star in the margin next to this quote: “The truth is not the stuff of edifiying hymns, rather it is dangerous, dirty, and smelly business. To seek the truth is to play with fire” (the opposite would be ice) “and a way to get burned. Not everyone has a stomach for it, above all those who say, ‘Lord, Lord!’ and then head for cover the minute the Lord shows up dressed in rags and smelling like a street person” (29-30).
Here Jesus came to this planet and made the choice to use the street language (Koine Greek) of His day. This is a language that found its origins in the Tower of Babel and yet GOD Himself, humbled Himself and used language that the people would understand to teach Kingdom of Heaven principles.
We have much to learn from Jesus and much to repent of as Adventist church leaders.
Firstly, I must say that this book/discussion couldn’t be at a better time in church history (well, perhaps a little sooner, but now will do as well). The thing that stands out in this book for me, and is mentioned by a few other people is this idea of ‘truth’ or ‘Truth’, or any other preferred spelling. As mentioned by another commentary above, us as Adventists believe to have the understanding of certain Biblical truths, which I believe is very important. What and how we approach this reality is I think how deconstructionism needs to play a roll. For too long, we as the Adventist church, have internalized the Biblical truths and have, in essence, played ‘keep away’ instead of letting those beliefs live through us in our daily lives.
How hypocritcal of us to say we believe in the prophetic gift yet we would never dare to classify anybody other than Ellen White as possessing the gift. How dare we say to ‘hold the truth’ if we’re not willing to open ourselves up to different interpretations of scripture. Isn’t it the journey towards truth that God is looking for not necessarily the arrival that He is looking for? How can we expect revival and reformation if we are not willing to do what Martin Luther did and question the status quo and the power structures that we find ourselves within? For it was only after questioning the apostasy of the Roman Catholic Church in the Middle Ages that 95 Thesis got stapled to the door. This is about a mindset of ’searching for truth’. For how can we be on a search for something we’ve already found!
Its time we stepped out of our comfort zones, focused on Jesus as our example, and let Him show us the way. If the church is indeed ‘a call (kletos) for renewal’ (p.35), this deconstructive mindset needs to exist within the midst of our church community. We cannot be scared to drop our guards and preconceived ideas of what truth really is…in the end won’t truth stand alone regardless?
Uncertainty hurts. It has been a while since I entered “overweight territory” and tried different ways of losing the extra. Nothing works, and I am realizing I have to learn to be content with being hungry. I have to learn to love the pain. The same I think goes for this deconstruction business. We are asked to embrace uncertainty as a part of whole life.
What I am hoping from the book is to help me find a way towards “a better kind of certainty.” Our lives are short, finite, and we are all wasting away rapidly. At this moment, Caputo seems to me like being very rough. I cannot challenge myself at all times forever. There was some gentleness about Jesus too, acknowledgment of our fragility, a way to “let go” of deconstruction at times. To embrace life as is, to let it be, to be wrong, and to let the citizens of the Kingdom of God that come after us forgive us, bless us, and improve the world.
Great discussion going on here, even though I’m a little late to the game. I am not from the Adventist tradition, (Raised Lutheran, now non-denominatonal) though lately I have been blessed with some friendships that have illuminated me the tradition. It has been interesting for me to view deconstruction through the eyes of a tradition that I am still learning about.
I found this chapter very hopeful. I finished reading it last night after a church council meeting. The meeting was great, and we really pushed through alot of things. I am always encouraged by these sit downs, but I often walk way thinking that we didn’t quite get there. Coming home and reading the whole “Church is Plan B” section really calmed me down. I especially like the statement; “In the meantime, and it is always the meantime for the church.”
His phrase, “The poetics of the Kingdom”, really rang true to me. It made me think of the church like a Rilke poem. So real and meaningful, yet intangible. It points to the deeper truth, but it’s not the truth itself.
I often imagine myself as one of the King’s men, trying to put Humpty Dumpty (the church) back together again. I am reminded in this chapter that Humpty Dumpty will be fine, what we need to worry about is the Kingdom.
So glad you’re jumping in here, Vince! I think when we say that Jesus would deconstruct the church, he is precisely deconstructing the barriers between us that make you feel, in whatever small way, like an outsider to a discussion with mostly Adventists.
On the other hand we probably all recognize that “tradition” is important. A guess a question that I keep wrestling with is how can my tradition free me to be in relationship to God’s kingdom and all that’s going on there, as opposed to binding me in fear that someone else my steal some of my thunder.
Looking forward to Monday when Samir brings the HEAT!
Reverend Vince. Good to see you in these parts!
Thanks for prompting us on this reading journey and for the thinking that has been shared through this reflections and its various responses.
When wrestling in a university setting with some of the heavy reading of Derrida, I was perhaps first alerted to the theological possibilities of recognising decontruction by “The Trespass of the Sign” by Kevin Hart, which I would highly recommend to anyone wanting to further pursue this angle of Derridean thinking. But I do like the work people such as Caputo and Peter Rollins and others are doing to present some of this thought in a more accessible format.
Any of our attempts at defining deconstruction deconstruct before our eyes, particularly when having such conversations we are so alert to noticing this. It was helpful to my attempt at understanding to begin to realise that statement like “Deconstruction is…” or using the verb “to deconstruct” are less useful than to realise where are more observers of deconstruction than practitioners, so we are better to speak of “Deconstruction happens” or “Language deconstructs.”
I was interested by the suggestions of a tendency to deconstruction in Adventism. To me perhaps the most useful Adventist phrase in this regard is “present truth,” which contains within it the acknowledgment—at least to some extent—that what may have been “truth” at some time in the past, even as recently as last week, may not be so “true” today or tomorrow at least not so important a truth. To borrow another favoured Derridean term, it introduces or recognises an element of “play” in the definition of “truth.” If only this could be somehow more a reality in practice.
Darn Nathan, you stole my little thunder with “present truth” here. I was about to post about the next chapter discussing Caputo’s “present future” and “absolute future” concepts. I agree, this concept is pure gold in Adventist theology, and I hope to see its renewal. Maybe we should just start using it, like saying, “I don’t believe that anymore. It used to be very helpful.”
Yes, Nathan! This really is a great suggestion. I know you and I have talked a lot about this kind of thing in the past, but for some reason, connecting it to this reading, it strikes me with new power. One thing I love about Adventism is this emphasis on “present truth” and progressive revelation. I think it’s truly progressive in the best sense of the word.
One thing I like least about Adventism ( and I suppose this is true of so many traditions, not least, the Catholic tradition) is the way that our beliefs just grow, with more and more amendments, without any theology for saying, “we were wrong about that and I think we just need to drop that theology.” We actually have one good potentially precident setting example with the “Shut Door” teaching, but it didn’t seem to catch on.
Samir’s suggestion (“I don’t believe that anymore. It used to be very helpful”) is so wonderfully liberating!
[...] This is the second post in a six-part series in the re-church Summer Reading Group (part one can is here). The six posts will correspond to the six chapters of What Would Jesus Deconstruct?, by John D. [...]
[...] post in a six-part series in the re-church Summer Reading Group (click these links to read parts one and two). The six posts will correspond to the six chapters of What Would Jesus Deconstruct?, by [...]
[...] post in a six-part series in the re-church Summer Reading Group (click these links to read parts one, two and three). The six posts will correspond to the six chapters of What Would Jesus [...]