Report on the 2017 Theology & Peace Conference: Embracing We-Centricity

Article featured in the COV&R Bulletin (Now available with free and open online access!)

I’m not okay. When you ask me in passing how I am, I may answer ‘fine’… We all answer with the same line, ‘I’m fine. How are you?’ But none of us are okay. On 9/11, the American people experienced a massive trauma. We are suffering from a form of collective PTSD we have yet to address. We are not okay.
~ Sereta Richardson

Last May, Theology & Peace held our tenth anniversary conference: “Embracing We-Centricity: Practices that Nurture the Common Good.” Our theme was inspired in part by Vittorio Gallese’s use of the term “we-centricity” to describe our inherent openness to the other:

“Every time we relate to other people, we automatically inhabit a we-centric space, within which we exploit a series of implicit certainties about the other. This implicit and pre-theoretical, but at the same time contentful state enables us to directly understand what the other person is doing, why he or she is doing it, and how he or she feels about a specific situation.” (“The Two Sides of Mimesis,” Mimesis and Science, 100)

While mimetic theory helps explain our interconnectedness, it more importantly reveals why “we-centricity” is also problematic, why the “common good” has historically been a bad thing for those who have been victimized and excluded. Beginning with our 2013 conference, “Lynching, Scapegoating & Actual Innocence,” Theology & Peace has examined the history of racism, the inherited trauma of slavery and lynching, and the continued destruction to black communities unleashed by the War on Drugs. With the mass incarceration of black men, the American people are engaging in scapegoating on a horrific scale. As pastors, theologians and activists, our goal is to educate our faith communities on the sacrificial foundations which structure our corporate life. And going beyond diagnosis, we seek practical models for nonviolent action that subvert the deep structures of racism, that interrupt the negative rhetoric directed against immigrants, Muslims, and LGBTQ persons, and that de-escalate mimetic contagion before it sweeps us up in its wake.

A year ago, at this time, the board of Theology & Peace recognized that whatever the results of the U.S. presidential election, the American people would be deeply divided. Sick with rivalry and self-righteous contempt on all sides, our public discourse has been reduced to a circus of model-obstacle relationships. The language of universal rights is stifled by a growing rhetoric of hate and resentment. We do not have to accept this as the new normal. René Girard bequeathed us the tools not only to parse the mimetic dynamics fueling the rise of populism and “the age of anger,” but to set the stage for a new era of political and social engagement.

At this year’s Theology & Peace conference, we engaged spiritual practices which, repeated over time, can transform our habitual ways of being together. Drawing on a variety of faith traditions, our speakers provided us with tangible tools not only for building our resistance to the unconscious dynamics responsible for scapegoating, but for creating compassionate spaces for healing our individual and collective trauma.

Sister Rose Pacatte led us in “Watching Film as a Spiritual Practice,” an adaptation of lectio divina, the ancient monastic practice of receptivity to the power of scripture. Together we watched the film The Visitor about a man who arrives home to discover illegal immigrants camped out in his NYC apartment. Sr. Rose asked that we identify with a character in the film—that we reflect on a scene in movie which seemed to “choose us” and share with others the ways the film touched our hearts. Our ego-centric engagement with the film was suspended just enough that we found ourselves impacted in unexpected ways.

Theology & Peace board member Sereta Richardson presented on Circle Processes. A black woman, a single mother, a veteran, and a former police officer, Sereta recounted with unusual eloquence and honesty the pain of a life marked by trauma and PTSD. She described the release that comes with sharing with others around the circle the suffering that each of us has bottled up inside. Delivering the words quoted above, she warned us. As long as 9/11 and its unprocessed pain remains bottled up in the American people, our collective PTSD poses a threat to ourselves and to the rest of the world, too often seeking release by targeting others in our midst. Inviting us to join her in a circle process, Sereta asked that those who were willing vocalize what they’re most afraid of. As we went around the room, we could feel our shared space shift from fear to compassion.

Boston College theologian Brian D. Robinette shared his work integrating mimetic theory with Christian contemplative practice. Distilling the wisdom of the desert monastics and contemporary teachers like Belden Lane and Martin Laird, Brian described multiple ways contemplative practice loosens mimetic binds, freeing us from rivalry with our neighbors in order that we may truly love them. Turning the gaze inward, we come to recognize the many borrowed desires within us! In the “practice of stillness,” we don’t judge those desires or afflicted emotions, we just take notice, “this is what envy feels like,” and without commentary we simply let them go. Stepping back from the many mimetic hooks we encounter on a daily basis, we quietly observe their passage down the stream of conscious awareness. Over time, the contemplative learns “to become creatively ‘indifferent’ (or ‘non-reactive’) to the riot of mimetic comparisons”. Brian offered us this image: “we can become dispassionate witness to the thoughts and desires streaming though us, as though watching particles swirling in a snow globe.” (See his article, “Contemplative Practice and the Therapy of Mimetic Desire,” Contagion 24 [2017], pp. 73-100, quotations from pp. 87 and 89.)

Role Playing

Jonathan Brenneman, Coordinator for Israel/Palestine Partners in Peacemaking, Mennonite Church USA, presented on “The Spiritual Practice of Nonviolent Direct Action.” A member of Christian Peacemaking Teams (CPT), he stood with victims of aggression in Hebron (Palestine), at Standing Rock, and in South Africa. Jonathan shared faith-based strategies focused on de-escalating conflict and improving conditions for victims of oppression and violence. Following the poet Joy Harjo, Jonathan emphasized that we treat the enemy as worthy of engagement. Do not demonize the oppressors, but view them as mistaken. Include them in solutions understood as correction rather than victory. Jonathan described a critical moment in Hebron when the checkpoints closed suddenly, making it difficult for Palestinian school children to return home. CPT utilized their training to engage the soldiers as part of the solution rather than treating them as enemies worthy only of hate. Jonathan concluded by engaging us in role play between the victim, the aggressor, and active bystanders able to disrupt the status quo. He equipped us with an extensive list of best practices: “feel the discomfort, assess what’s happening, be aware of how many people are around, be aware of exists.…” (The entire list is on our website.) The final word: “Remember that the aggressor is loved by God and wants to act positively.” Jonathan quoted Thomas Merton: “The tactic of nonviolence is a tactic of love that seeks the salvation and redemption of the opponent, not his castigation, humiliation, and defeat” (Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander [Image, 1968] 86).

Elder CW Harris, founder of Intersection of Change (formerly Newborn Holistic Ministries), led an ecumenical worship service honoring his mentor, Gordon Cosby, founder of Church of the Savior in Washington, DC. His sermon described how he, a young black man, was “seized by a great affection.” Cosby introduced him not only to mimetic theory, but to a communal faith life shared with the victim—the homeless, junkies, ex-convicts. Cosby’s witness helped CW rise above anger and resentment, the collective response of many young blacks to the crushing reality of racism. Today CW continues to share that communal life in his community, Sandtown, Baltimore, a neighborhood ravaged by race riots in the ’60s and more recently by the War on the Drugs. Since the death of Freddie Gray, Sandtown has been at the center of the conflict between police and people of color. In the midst of the crisis, CW, building on the positive models he received from Gordon Cosby, has worked tirelessly to de-escalate the violence.

With recent events in Charlottesville, these are practices and models we sorely need.

Where do go from here? In our final conference session all those in attendance agreed we would create an online resource for those interested in cultivating the spiritual practices presented at the conference. We also invite you to join our Facebook page and participate on our Facebook discussion page. Please go to our website and consider becoming a member and/or making a donation.

Join us next year:
2018 Theology & Peace Conference
“Accepting the Invitation to the Beloved Community”
Monday, May 21 – Thursday, May 24, 2018
Hosted by American Baptist College, Nashville, Tennessee
Speakers include:
Dr. Forrest E. Harris, President of American Baptist College
Becca Stevens, Founder of Thistle Farms

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Hochschild’s “Stranger in Their Own Land,” Trumpism, and Mimetic Theory, Part 2

In Part 1, the authoritarian, ‘Strong Man’ assault on reason and truth was posed as a crisis of our age that urges a depth of analysis that anthropology provides. Arlie Hochschild’s Strangers in Their Own Land was offered as a sociological study that helps bridge the way to anthropology. In Part 2, in fact, we will soon see that Hochschild herself reaches a point of anthropological analysis. She begins with the personal stories of people in Lake Charles, LA, and moves to their “deep stories” of being made to feel like strangers in their own land, especially by northern white elites. And that brings us to Trumpism, the phenomenon of Donald Trump’s attempts at a Strong Man presidency.

And so into the 150-year history of southern resentment of northern elites stepped Donald J. Trump, promising that they would no longer feel like strangers in their own land (Ch. 15). Hochschild writes:

All this was part of the “deep story.” In that story, strangers step ahead of you in line, making you anxious, resentful, and afraid. A president [Obama] allies with the line cutters, making you feel distrustful, betrayed. A person ahead of you in line insults you as an ignorant redneck, making you feel humiliated and mad. Economically, culturally, demographically, politically, you are suddenly a stranger in your own land. The whole context of Louisiana — its companies, its government, its church and media — reinforces that deep story. So this — the deep story — was in place before the match was struck. (222) …

[Trump’s] supporters have been in mourning for a lost way of life. Many have become discouraged, others depressed. They yearn to feel pride but instead have felt shame. Their land no longer feels their own. Joined together with others like themselves, they now feel hopeful, joyous, elated. The man who expressed amazement, arms upheld — “to be in the presence of such a man!” — seemed in a state of rapture. As if magically lifted, they are no longer strangers in their own land. (225)

Girard - The ScapegoatAnd this is precisely the moment that Hochschild herself goes to an anthropological depth, citing Emile Durkheim — and if one happens to check the endnotes (page 307), an added citation to René Girard, The Scapegoat! She writes about Trumpism as if herself a Mimetic Theorist:

“Collective effervescence,” as the French sociologist Emile Durkheim called it in The Elementary Forms of Religious Life, is a state of emotional excitation felt by those who join with others they take to be fellow members of a moral or biological tribe. They gather to affirm their unity and, united, they feel secure and respected. While Durkheim was studying religions rites among indigenous tribes in Australia and elsewhere, much of what he observed could be applied to the [Trump] rally at the Lakefront Airport, as well as many others like it. People gather around what Durkheim calls a “totem” — a symbol such as a cross or a flag. Leaders associate themselves with the totem and charismatic leaders can become totems themselves. The function of the totem is to unify worshippers. Seen through Durkheim’s eyes, the real function of the excited gathering around Donald Trump is to unify all the white, evangelical enthusiasts who fear that those “cutting ahead in line” are about to become a terrible, strange, new America. The source of the awe and excitement isn’t simply Trump himself; it is the unity of the great crowd of strangers gathered around him. If the rally itself could speak, it would say, “We are a majority!” Added to that is a potent promise — to be lifted up from bitterness, despair, depression. The “movement,” as Trump has increasingly called his campaign, acts as a great antidepressant. Like other leaders promising rescue, Trump evokes a moral consciousness. But what he gives participants, emotionally speaking, is an ecstatic high. …

One way of reinforcing this “high” of a united brother- and sisterhood of believers is to revile and expel members of out groups. In his speeches, Trump has spoken of “something within Islam which hates Christians,” and of his intention to ban all Muslims from entering the country. He has spoken of expelling all undocumented people of Mexican origin. And only reluctantly and in truculent tones (“I repudiate, okay?”) did he repudiate the notorious Louisiana KKK grand wizard, David Duke, thus signaling blacks as members of an out group. In nearly every rally, Trump points out a protestor, sometimes demonizing them and calling for their expulsion. (One protestor was even falsely depicted by his campaign as a member of ISIS.) Such scapegoating reinforces the joyous unity of the gathering. The act of casting out the “bad one” helps fans unite in a shared sense of being the “good ones,” the majority, no longer strangers in their own land. (225-26)

In short the Reality TV star, whose genre features a weekly expulsion, has found a way to tap into the same culture of resentment of the millions who watch such shows, and to integrate it into the real-life venue of national politics. Should we count this as an amazing feat? Or simply the inevitable outcome of a culture that is reverting back to a more primitive tribalism such that it consumes expulsion of the Other as entertainment?

I believe that we won’t begin to find answers, much less solutions, to our crisis (surely, a “mimetic crisis”), unless we reach the anthropological depth of understanding revealed in the anthropology of the Christian revelation — especially as brought into the modern scientific framework via René Girard’s Mimetic Theory.

First of all, MT makes it clear that rationality is not the core of being human; mimetic desire is. Hochschild seems to offer emotions as more central to being human, which is closer to the truth than reason. But neuroscience is also helping to paint the portrait of healthy human beings achieving an integration of reasoning and emoting toward intentions that are shared with other human beings (intention being the more scientific word for desire). Shared intentions. Mimetic desire. Our brains themselves appear to be constructed for such healthy integration, not simply as individual brains but as minds linked together into a social network by mirror neurons. (See, for example, the work of Daniel Siegle, who names his findings as the “Neurobiology of We.” There is also growing literature on the connection between mimetic desire and mirror neurons; see Mimesis and Science: Empirical Research on Imitation and the Mimetic Theory of Culture and Religion, ed. by Scott Garrels.)

But to fully make the connection to the Christian revelation, let us choose a text which Girard wrote about early on (The Scapegoat, ch. 14, “Satan Divided Against Himself”), a sort of mini-anthropology that happens to also include a Strong Man:

When Jesus’ family heard it, they went out to restrain him, for people were saying, “He has gone out of his mind.” And the scribes who came down from Jerusalem said, “He has Beelzebul, and by the ruler of the demons he casts out demons.” And he called them to him, and spoke to them in parables, “How can Satan cast out Satan? If a kingdom is divided against itself, that kingdom cannot stand. And if a house is divided against itself, that house will not be able to stand. And if Satan has risen up against himself and is divided, he cannot stand, but his end has come. But no one can enter a strong man’s house and plunder his property without first tying up the strong man; then indeed the house can be plundered. Truly I tell you, people will be forgiven for their sins and whatever blasphemies they utter; but whoever blasphemes against the Holy Spirit can never have forgiveness, but is guilty of an eternal sin….” (Mark 3:21-29)

Jesus indicates that binding the Strong Man cannot begin without correctly understanding the parabolic truth of “Satan casting out Satan.” The so-called Strong Man of today — Nietzsche’s Übermensch, Ayn Rand’s warmed-over version of Nietzschean philosophy popularized in the Tea Party version of the Überindividualist pursuing ‘objectivist’ rational self-interest, and arguably not too far off from Milton Friedman’s Capitalism and Freedom (whose version of capitalism Friedman and his Chicago economists actually implemented in the aftermath of Strong Man Pinochet’s 1973 military coup in Chilé) — all these manifestations of Strong Man philosophy continue to base attempts at iron-fisted Rule by getting the crowds to go along with fear of the Other, convincing them that they are on the side of the gods in casting out the satanic evil-doers.

Hope of binding the Strong Man, on the other hand, continues to begin with Jesus’ anthropological insight that such casting out of other human beings is never on the side of the true God who created the entire human household. Casting out the perceived satanic one(s) is actually satanic work itself. It is ‘Satan casting out Satan,’ not the gods casting out evildoers. It is the age-old structuring element of human anthropology which results in the continual divisions within the human household. It is as old as ancient tribalism.

And how can one begin to plunder that Strong Man’s house? Through the Holy Spirit of forgiveness (Mark 3:28-29). Through acceptance of each person — even the Strong Man himself — as a child in the Creator God’s household. A binding of the Strong Man’s violence, then, can only come through nonviolent engagement of the ‘Satan casting out Satan’-dynamic of human cultures. Jesus himself begins this movement on the Cross, letting himself be cast out as a satanic blasphemer against both Yahweh and Caesar, the Son of the gods.

Surrounding this passage are snippets about true family. Jesus’ own family perceive him as “out of his mind.” The follow-up to his parabolic anthropology is this response to news that his family is outside asking for him: “And looking at those who sat around him, he said, ‘Here are my mother and my brothers! Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother’” (Mark 3:34-35). Shared intentions. God-aligned mimetic desire.

How does one achieve such shared intentions with God? A life of prayer. On the night of his being handed over into the machinery of Satan casting out Satan, Jesus prays in the garden, “Abba, Father, for you all things are possible; remove this cup from me; yet, not what I want, but what you want” (Mark 14:36). He teaches all disciples to pray, “Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come. Your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven” (Matt 6:9-10).

And Jesus also stresses the role of forgiveness in prayer: “And forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors” (Matt 6:12). Or, “Whenever you stand praying, forgive, if you have anything against anyone; so that your Father in heaven may also forgive you your trespasses” (Mark 11:25). Such forgiveness-centered prayer is the key to undoing the line-place-keeping “deep story” that was apparently common in Jesus day, too. Because when Jesus teaches his disciples about true discipleship, he consistently says things like, “But many who are first will be last, and the last will be first” (Mark 10:31). Or, “…whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all. For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many” (Mark 10:43-45). And a saying accompanied by a prophetic action:

He sat down, called the twelve, and said to them, “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.” Then he took a little child and put it among them; and taking it in his arms, he said to them, “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me.” (Mark 9:35-37)

By placing a child in their midst, Jesus has turned our most common human “deep story” metaphor from line-place-keeping into a circle of friendship. Forgiveness is a willingness to give up one’s place in line for one who is more vulnerable. Forgiveness is not an allowing of the Strong Man to take a place at the head of the line, at the expense of the vulnerable. Such behavior is precisely what Jesus came to prophetically confront and expose. But neither is it a violent intervention. It is a nonviolent engagement that challenges our human castings out as satanic, offering inclusion into God’s family, where the most vulnerable have center-stage.

As I did in a blog earlier this year, I bring things back to our American context and give the last word to Rev. Dr. William J. Barber II:

A nonviolent struggle has two possible ends: winning the opposition as friends or giving up the battle. Though our coalition included the full spectrum of North Carolina’s diversity, we had come to recognize a common vision for our future in the history of the South’s antiracist freedom movement. Our relationships with one another were not simply transactional — a means to achieve our various organization’s goals. They had become transformational, lifting each of us to a new understanding of our interconnectedness as human beings and living members of one family. None of us would be free until all of us were free. (The Third Reconstruction, pp. 94-95)

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Hochschild’s “Strangers in Their Own Land,” Trumpism, and Mimetic Theory, Part 1

Hochschild - Strangers in Their Own LandToday’s events, with the seemingly constant assault on facts and truth, calls into question an account of human beings as rational. In reviewing Arlie Russell Hochschild’s book Strangers in Their Own Land: Anger and Mourning on the American Right, I anticipated offering Mimetic Theory — with its focus on mimetic desire, not reason — in support of de-emphasizing the popular view of Homo sapiens as a rational animal.

So I googled “quotes about human beings as rational animals,” expecting to find a nice quote from someone like Aristotle in support of human reasoning prowess. No such quote appeared. None. Instead, I found quotes only critical of the notion. Here’s a sampling:

I wonder who it was defined man as a rational animal. It was the most premature definition ever given. Man is many things, but he is not rational. ―Oscar Wilde, Playwright

Human beings aren’t rational animals; we’re rationalizing animals who want to appear reasonable to ourselves. — Elliot Aronson, Psychologist

Man is a rational animal. So at least we have been told. Throughout a long life I have searched diligently for evidence in favor of this statement. So far, I have not had the good fortune to come across it. — Bertrand Russell, Philosopher

Given our place in history, this makes sense. If the 20th Century wasn’t enough of an attack on the Enlightenment celebration of human reason, we are entering Round Two of the rise of authoritarian, ‘Strong Man’ attacks on truth and reason. How does this happen? I propose that it is the result, at least in part, of living under a deficient anthropology, an insufficient understanding of who we are as human beings.

Arlie Russell Hochschild’s recent book Strangers in Their Own Land offers Mimetic Theorists a sociological study that can help deepen our anthropological understanding of matters such as the human susceptibility to a Strong Man. A Berkeley sociologist, she spent many months over several years living in Lake Charles, LA, a hotbed of the Tea Party movement. Hochschild begins her book with stories about the people she met, interviewed, and with whom she developed relationships. They exemplify an account of people who seemingly and irrationally support politics that go against their personal interests — the Great Paradox, she calls it.

I was personally moved by the story of Harold and Annette Areno, who still live on the farming homestead of Harold’s parents and nine siblings (Ch. 3, “The Rememberers”). The Arenos bear witness to devastating loss, beginning with the environment of their youth. Annette reminisces,

“I remember sitting under the cypress for shade in the heat of the summer. The moss hanging on it was green then. Frogs could breathe and they could find all kinds of minnows. Then industry came in. It began to stink so bad you had to leave the windows down on hot nights. It killed the cypress and grass from here clear out to the Gulf. And you still can’t eat the fish or drink the water.” (42)

And as if the devastation of one’s home environment isn’t enough, Hochschild recounts:

But there is more. Animals and fish are not all they have lost. I brace myself.

Shifting in his chair and coughing slightly, Harold continues, “My brother-in-law J.D. was the first. He came down with a brain tumor and died at forty-seven. Then my sister next door, Lily May, had breast cancer that went into her bones. My mom died of lung and bladder cancer. And others up the bayou: Edward May and Lambert both died with cancer. Julia and Wendell, live two miles from here, they got it. My sister grew up here but moved over to Houston River and she’s fighting cancer. And my other brother-in-law, he had prostate cancer that went in the bone.” (Both Annette and Harold are cancer survivors.)

“The only one that didn’t get cancer was my daddy,” Harold says, “and he never worked in the plants. Everybody else — all us kids and our spouses that lived on these forty acres — come down with cancer.”

In Harold’s immediate family, all those who got cancer, except for Annette and Harold, died of it. No one in earlier generations — like that of Harold’s grandfather — suffered from or died of cancer. And, as Pentecostals, no one in the family smoked or drank liquor. (43-44)

The Arenos now consider themselves environmentalists, yet here’s the Great Paradox: they continually support Tea Party and other Republican candidates who want to dismantle the Environmental Protection Agency. Why? That’s what Hochschild’s book seeks to understand. It goes deeper in its analysis to cultures and “deep stories” the likes of which most of us cannot fully see, because we are the proverbial ‘fish in water’ (hopefully, not the fish in the bayou waters around Lake Charles). The thing most easily hidden from us is the ‘rationality’ of the cultures in which we are nurtured.

Mimetic Theory poses that the Arenos’ dominant culture is the only kind available to any human being since our advent as a species, namely, a religion-based culture. (Even so-called secular culture is religious via its faith in false transcendences, such as the “myth of the free market”; see my previous blog, “Opposing Faiths: ‘Free Market’ vs. Easter.”) Hochschild’s telling of the Arenos’ story emphasizes their culture as rooted in Pentecostal Christian faith; it is what helped them survive their catastrophic losses of home and loved ones. She writes, “Their faith had guided them through a painful loss of family, friends, neighbors, frogs, turtles, and trees. They felt God had blessed them with this courage to face their ordeals, and they thanked Him for that” (47).

And so when the Arenos choose political candidates to support, faith issues take precedence: “We vote for candidates that put the Bible where it belongs. We try to be right-living, clean-living people, and we’d like our leaders to live that way and believe in that, too” (47). Moreover, as believers in the Rapture, going to heaven is their ultimate consolation. As Harold Areno tells Hochschild, “We’re on this earth for a limited amount of time. But if we get our souls saved, we go to Heaven, and Heaven is for eternity. We’ll never have to worry about the environment from then on. That’s the most important thing. I’m thinking long-term” (54). Yes, our cultures can help us to rationalize quite a lot.

Hochschild’s next move is to go deeper into the enculturation process to what she calls “deep story”:

A deep story is a feels-as-if story — it’s the story feelings tell, in the language of symbols. It removes judgment. It removes fact. It tells us how things feel. Such a story permits those on both sides of the political spectrum to stand back and explore the subjective prism through which the party on the other side sees the world. And I don’t believe we understand anyone’s politics, right or left, without it. For we all have a deep story. (135)

In an endnote to this paragraph (on page 297), she further explains that the process of “deep story” involves the central metaphors each person uses to shape meaning in their lives, citing especially the work of George Lakoff and Mark Johnson in Metaphors We Live By. Hochschild pursues this strategy by first seeking a deep story that arises out of and resonates with the stories she has been listening to.

The basic deep story she hears among the Tea Partyists of Louisiana involves the metaphor of standing in line with everyone else in this competitive consumerist culture. The typical Tea Partyist stands somewhere in the middle of the line, seeking to advance; and the white elitists who are in front of them in the line seem to be trying to help those behind them, especially People of Color, to line-jump in front of them. Hochschild converts this metaphor into a lengthy narrative (pp. 136-45) that she shares with those she has been getting to know. Their basic response is, ‘Yep, that about sums things up’ (145).

Next, she suggests how this basic deep story is adaptable into various kinds of personal stories based on the individual’s personal metaphor for themselves: the Team Player (Ch. 10), the Worshipper (Ch. 11), the Cowboy (Ch. 12), and the Rebel (Ch. 13).

Ultimately, however, these deep stories are rooted in deeper history. For people with long roots in Louisiana, this is basically a history of racism that goes back to the Civil War of the 1860’s and the Civil Rights Movement of the 1960’s (Ch. 14). It is about northern white elites telling you how wrong you are, and then holding a deep resentment toward them.

And so finally into that 150-year history stepped Donald J. Trump, promising that they would no longer feel like strangers in their own land (Ch. 15)….

Proceed to Part 2

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MT and ACEs

“It’s not what’s wrong with you — it’s what happened to you.”

Resilience still 06Last week I attended a community event to learn about Adverse Childhood Experiences — ACEs. The featured activity was to view a recent documentary by James Redford (Robert’s son) called Resilience, which primarily told the story of both the Center for Disease Control’s (CDC) original, groundbreaking ACE study (see the CDC website for more info) and a major application of that study in practice — the story of San Francisco pediatrician Dr. Nadine Burke Harris (who also has a “must see” Ted Talk telling her story).

There are many angles and vocations from which to address the health phenomenon of ACEs. I would like to offer here the perspective of anthropology in the way of Mimetic Theory (MT). ACEs represents a scientific study that offers a potential goldmine for human healing on so many levels. But we can also count on massive resistance. Why? From what perspective? From the default cultural perspective of our original anthropology, namely, a way of being human based in accusation, blame, and scapegoating. In our current iterations of this deep enculturation, we are a society of laws centered on retributive justice. In short, our deepest enculturation rebels against an approach that can be summed up,

“It’s not what’s wrong with you — it’s what happened to you.”

We need to find blame either in someone else or in some aspect of ourselves. Having bitten from the fruit of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, our standard way of thinking divides all of the world into Good and Evil. We resist a knowledge that seeks to suspend such judgments and instead to know simply what is. In other words, we resist scientific knowledge when it comes up against our most Sacred views that are rooted in a scapegoating-structured sense of societal order — when it comes up against good old-time religion as the center of culture.

We’ve seen this since the beginning of modern science. The church defending its earth-centered view of the cosmos against Copernicus and Galileo. Biblical fundamentalists defending the six-day creation story of Genesis 1 against Darwinism. Currently, we are witnessing an interpretation of Genesis 1:26 that continues to justify humankind’s imperialistic dominion over the earth in the face of the scientific community’s dire warnings about climate change. Yes, sadly we can expect resistance to the wonderful potential to revolutionize health care in light of the ACEs study because it goes against our enculturation around blame, accusation, and punishment — a justice system focused on retribution. It is an enculturation that even carries over into the popularized views of modern health care: find out what’s wrong with someone and fix it.

Mimetic Theory offers the revolution in understanding human enculturation that can support the scientific revolution of knowledge, summed up in the simple phrase,

“It’s not what’s wrong with you — it’s what happened to you.”

This is not a revolution that absolves anyone of personal responsibility — as would seem to be the case from the perspective of Retributive Justice. On the contrary, it leads to a more true and healthy sense of personal responsibility, precisely because it begins with simply what is rather than with blame for what’s wrong. The latter is usually the prelude to some sort of violent expulsion or death. To begin with simply what is, on the other hand, is the gateway to a resurrection response, a Way that seeks to respond to a situation of less health and aliveness by marshaling communal resources to pursue a path towards greater health and aliveness. The ACEs study and the health strategies it is spawning are a brilliant example of this.

Alison - The Joy of Being WrongMimetic Theory can lend support by helping us to understand that any cultural resistance to it is the essence of the Original Sin — the Sin of culture founded in our deadly Order based on our own fallen Knowledge of Good and Evil — the Sin from which Jesus’ loving submission to that Order liberates us. In the revelation of Jesus Christ, we begin to have our experience of God transformed from one of wrathful retribution to one of loving restoration. We are met by a God of healing, not punishment. We encounter a God who says to us, “It’s not what’s wrong with you — it’s what happened to you. … And I am here with you to help you respond with courage and healing and new life.”

(For more, see the brilliant work of James Alison, especially The Joy of Being Wrong: Original Sin Through Easter Eyes. Alison’s entire theological program could be said to be an elaboration of the last paragraph of this blog.)

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Opposing Faiths: “Free Market” vs. Easter

Jesus said, “No one can serve two masters; for a slave will either hate the one and love the other, or be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth [‘mammon’].” — Matt. 6:24; par. Luke 16:13

The first Easter morning reveals how different these two masters are. It’s not so much a matter of a logical contradiction of following two masters. Clearly, it’s an existential contradiction due to the fact that these masters are revealed to be polar opposites — such that any normal human being should be disposed to hate one and love the other. The gods of wealth have always been on the side of this world’s most successful people, the winners. The God of Jesus the Crucified and Resurrected Messiah reveals true divinity to be beyond taking sides in human affairs by siding with one of this world’s biggest losers — a man duly tried and executed as being against the reigning cultural religions.

Mimetic Theory helps to sharpen our understanding of the false masters of our evolution, gods who structure everything in dualisms of us-them, blessed-cursed, winners-losers, wealthy-poor, et. al. Jesus’ self-sacrifice as an executed loser is the only way a nonviolent God has of breaking through all of our false transcendences to reveal the true God as beyond all of the dualisms — revealed precisely through God’s Easter vindication of one deemed as an outsider to our false gods. “Blasphemer!” “Insurrectionist!” No, the Revealer of God as a power of love that can even heal our many us-them divisions.

But such healing must overcome the obstacle of our first evolution. Easter is the pivot-point of a re-evolution. As Paul says, “For just as by the one man’s disobedience the many were made sinners, so by the one man’s obedience the many will be made just” (Rom 5:19). It’s interesting that Paul uses the past and future tenses in the two clauses of this statement. The disobedience is in the past at the point of our origins. Then, it is understood in Paul’s theological context that the “one man’s obedience” has already happened in the cross, revealed as obedience in the resurrection, but the work of making the many just is apparently ongoing and yet to be completed. We live in an era characterized by an overlapping of the original disobedience and the new obedience, each with its own master. We cannot serve both — unless we misrecognize the difference between false and true transcendence, idols and God.

So as creatures who evolved with the experience of transcendent power, the key to our re-evolution is conversion in obedience to the true master. Which god commands our obedience? The gods of our evolution who divide the world between winners and losers? Or the God who graciously offers re-evolution through the obedience of Jesus the Loser Messiah — the one who seeks to heal those divisions by constantly identifying with this world’s losers (such as the hungry, thirsty, sick, naked, imprisoned, and immigrant of Matt 25:31-46)?

The title of this blog suggests that our modern North American form of trying to serve two masters involves elevating the “free market” to a status of false transcendence. Let me be clear: The way that markets operate in our economics is a power transcendent to our realm as interdividuals. Markets are mechanisms with power higher than any one person. But their transcendence only remains truly perceived when they are given a wholly anthropological grounding in a realm of transcendence created by human interaction. The problem comes when the “free market” is given an interpretation that goes beyond the anthropological, when it is viewed as some force of nature with a power governing human relations, rather than as a power wholly grounded in human relations. It is like Jesus said of the sabbath, “The sabbath was made for humankind, and not humankind for the sabbath; so the Son of Man is lord even of the sabbath” (Mark 2:27-28). Similarly, markets are made to be governed by humankind, not humankind by the markets.1

But our current iteration of capitalism — especially in the conservative Republican version of it, since the advent of “Reaganomics” — seems to oppose governance and markets. Governments need to get out of the way of markets, according to this economic philosophy, and let them ‘freely’ operate. I propose that this is an approach to economics which crosses the boundary into a false transcendence, letting markets supposedly rule us instead of the other way around. And the deeper truth behind this “Reaganomics” is that it is a ruse to let those who have the wealth make the rules behind the scenes, such that markets work in their favor. Markets are never “free” in the sense of being completely unbound by any human rules to simply work as a force of nature akin to the naturals laws put into place by the true Creator. The creator of markets are human beings, and it will always be human rules that dictates their workings. So if government ‘gets out of the way’ of setting the rules, then some other governing body of human beings are the ones ‘free’ to set the rules. In our current form of “Reaganomics,” that governing body becomes by default those who already hold the most economic power . . . the wealthiest oligarchs. Should this trend continue, the United States will further descend from its democratic ideals into an oligarchic reality.

Reich - Saving CapitalismI have used quotes around the phrase “free markets” following the convention of Robert Reich in his “big-league” important book Saving Capitalism: For the Many, Not the Few. I highly recommend this book as a guide for learning effective articulations critical of Reaganomics. His basic point is consonant with what I’m saying in terms of false transcendence — and so he is seeking a ‘redeemed’ capitalism properly governed by the many, instead of a version that is falsely transcendent in order to cover for the kleptocracy of the wealthiest. Markets are never free. ‘Markets are made for humankind, and not humankind for markets.’

Reich writes contra to the “prevailing view” that pits “free market” against government,

But the prevailing view, as well as the debate it has spawned, is utterly false. There can be no “free market” without government. The “free market” does not exist in the wilds beyond the reach of civilization. Competition in the wild is a contest for survival in which the largest and strongest typically win. Civilization, by contrast, is defined by rules; rules create markets, and governments generate the rules….

A market — any market — requires that government make and enforce the rules of the game. In most modern democracies, such rules emanate from legislatures, administrative agencies, and courts. Government doesn’t “intrude” on the “free market.” It creates the market.

The rules are neither neutral nor universal, and they are not permanent. Different societies at different times have adopted different versions. The rules partly mirror a society’s evolving norms and values but also reflect who in society has the most power to make or influence them. Yet the interminable debate over whether the “free market” is better than “government” makes it impossible for us to examine who exercises this power, how they benefit from doing so, and whether such rules need to be altered so that more people benefit from them. (pp. 4-5)

Mimetic Theory offers us a lens to the sacred violence in our current economics: human beings move-in to manipulate people through the false transcendence, in this case leading the majority to believe in a myth of “free markets.” Reich, who as far as I know is not aware of Mimetic Theory, nevertheless describes the process well:

The “free market” is a myth that prevents us from examining these rule changes and asking whom they serve. The myth is therefore highly useful to those who do not wish such an examination to be undertaken. It is no accident that those with disproportionate influence over these rules, who are the largest beneficiaries of how the rules have been designed and adapted, are also among the most vehement supporters of the “free market” and the most ardent advocates of the relative superiority of the market over government. But the debate itself also serves their goal of distracting the public from the underlying realities of how the rules are generated and changed, their own power over this process, and the extent to which they gain from the results. In other words, not only do these “free market” advocates want the public to agree with them about the superiority of the market but also about the central importance of this interminable debate. (pp. 6-7)

Sung - Desire, Market, and ReligionI would like to conclude with another book recommendation, one that brings us back where we began, with the opposition of Easter faith with “free market” faith. Brazilian liberation theologian Jung Mo Sung is a reader of Mimetic Theory who, in his book Desire, Market, and Religion, applies some of its insights to a theological evaluation of market economics. He begins by elaborating just how much current versions of capitalism operate akin to a religious faith, with principles and doctrines that require faith not unlike religious doctrines.

A brief example in line with what we have talked about here would be the way in which recent proponents of capitalism present the “free market” with “market laws” akin to natural laws governed by forces outside human control. In commenting on F. Fukuyama’s faith in finite human beings to embark on unbounded progress, Sung writes,

Fukuyama, like many other liberal and neoliberal thinkers, credits this magic capacity to technology; not any technology, but technology that was developed “in accordance with certain defined rules [that were] laid down not by man, but by nature and nature’s laws.” And what is this nature that is able to generate such a powerful science? It is the same nature that, according to Fukuyama, moved the evolution of history in the direction of the market system. Likewise Paul A. Samuelson, winner of the Nobel Prize in Economics, says that the capitalist market system “merely evolved, and, as in the case of nature, is undergoing changes.” (p. 14)

We see that markets created and governed by human beings are viewed instead as created and governed by transcendent powers beyond humankind. In light of Mimetic Theory, this is the familiar story of sacred violence justified by “orders of creation.” “Free market” capitalism thus operates in ways similar to the sacred violence behind other isms, like racism and sexism. Inequality is portrayed as something created beyond human control in a state of nature:

  • Men are ‘naturally’ superior to women and should rule over them.
  • White people are superior to People of Color and should rule over them.
  • Wealthy people are selected by the “free market” to succeed, and poor people are ‘necessary sacrifices’ to the good order of market capitalism.

It is no coincidence that all the isms are intersectional in their oppression. All of it is grounded in faith that the world is ruled by gods who select winners and losers.

And so I give the last word to Sung, who poses the Easter faith contra to faith in the “free market”:

The Christian faith is not grounded in this conception of a God who is always on the side of the righteous winner. On the contrary, it is grounded in the confession that Jesus of Nazareth is risen. That is the centre of our faith. To confess that Jesus — defeated, condemned and killed by the Roman Empire and the Temple — is risen is to believe in a God who is not partnering with the winner (the Empire and the Temple). This faith allows the distinction between victory and the power of truth and justice. (p. 24)

Notes

1. For a similar move writing on economics from Luke 16:13, on serving two masters, to Mark 2:27, the sabbath serving humankind, see Brian McLaren, Everything Must Change, pp. 240-41.

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Can theology lead to a more peaceful world?

Susan Wright, president of the Theology & Peace board, was interviewed by Adam Ericksen of  the Raven Foundation: A Discussion of the Upcoming Theology & Peace Conference: “Embracing We-centricity: Practices to Nurture the Common Good,” May 22-25 in Chicago. Below are the responses Susan wrote in response to Adams questions:

Adam: How did you first come across mimetic theory? 

Susan: I audited a course in New Testament at Syracuse University taught by a then grad student in religion, Tony Bartlett. Tony was writing his doctoral dissertation which later became his first book, Cross Purposes. I remember well the day Tony introduced me to Mimetic Theory. I accompanied him and his wife Linda on a trip to Washington DC to visit Gordon Cosby and Church of the Savior. On the car ride down I shared with Tony and Linda my recent disillusionment as a community activist: that too often the work we were engaged in was undermined by internal rivalry. It was then that Tony told me about Rene Girard and Mimetic Theory.

Shortly after that Tony introduced me to his doctoral advisor, which happened to be James Williams. Jim gave me some books by René Girard and Raymund Schwager, including The Girard Reader. We spent hours discussing those books, as well as Dostoyevsky, and Thomas Merton. I was very lucky, I received in an intensive course in Mimetic Theory from one of René Girard’s closest academic associates.

Adam: Why is mimetic theory important to you?

Susan: I was the child of a teenage mother. Single and living on welfare, my mother had three children by the time she was twenty years old. Born into that situation, my sisters and I had a very difficult childhood. We experienced things children never should. Before I could even read, I discovered a cruel reality — that when confronted with suffering or injustice most people look the other way. Those few people who do help, they make all the difference!

The truth is, there are negative consequences to living in a free society where everyone is preoccupied with their own lives. Paul Dumouchel one of the best political theorists working with Mimetic Theory, explains that the moral distance, the space between us and our obligation to others, has become maximal. The social networks, which once induced people to care for those within their social group, have disappeared. “We have no reciprocal obligations with respect to one another, except perhaps with respect to family members and close friends. We are free with respect to one another. This is why we can be indifferent to the fate of others….” (The Barren Sacrifice, 27) We’re aware that thousands of elderly are abandoned to nursing homes, we’ve heard the statistics about the mass incarceration of black men, we know that poverty is on the rise, we know that there are millions of displaced refugees living out the worst kind of nightmare… but because we’re not obligated to do anything about it… because we’re busy with our own lives… as long as it has no direct impact on me, for the most part, we ignore it.

By the time I was eighteen I was haunted by a negative image —- an abyss at the core of American society. I wondered, how is it possible that in the wealthiest nation on earth, a democratic nation founded on the ideals of justice, freedom, and equality that the most vulnerable people, children, teenage mothers, the elderly, the mentally ill and impaired, people of color, and immigrants are allowed to fall through the cracks and disappear into oblivion? Already as a young person I was bitterly aware of the contradictions haunting our corporate life.

Because of financial aid, I went to college. I majored in history, but I also took courses in political science and anthropology… I needed answers. But the more I learned the sort of things they don’t teach you in grade school, the more it deepened my existential crisis. After college, I turned to activism, to building alternative economic communities grounded in social justice. Despite everything I still believed in democracy, in a sense democracy was my religion, it still is.

I wasn’t raised with religion, but in a secular environment where theology was pretty much a bad word. The adults that raised me were liberated from so-called superstitious thinking, they were willing to admit that Jesus was a good man, but beyond that they had no use for Jesus or his religion.

When I was twenty, quite accidentally, I picked up the bible and read John’s Gospel… I can’t tell you the impact it had on me… I was reading all the time… at that time it was Thomas Hobbes, and the Enlightenment thinkers, searching for answers, I encountered in the bible a concern for the weak, the poor, the outcasts that I had rarely, if ever, experienced in my day to day reality. Even so it wasn’t until my encounter with Mimetic Theory that I decided to become a Christian, to join the Episcopal Church and go to seminary. Today theology and Mimetic Theory comprise a large part of my life’s work.

Mimetic Theory was a game changer, because it gave me the language not only to identify the WHY of what’s wrong with American society, it gave me a practical methodology that cuts deep enough to address it, to formulate answers.

I first read Deceit, Desire, and the Novel, Girard’s break out book, which was published in French in 1961. I’ll never forget reading the title of the first chapter, “Triangular Desire…” It introduced me to the world of mimesis, that is, imitated desire. Girard, a literary theorist, realized what the great novelists intuited that they, like the characters in their novels, were trapped within desire’s mimetic web. They experienced a kind of conversion, a point in their writing when they could no longer heroize the myth of spontaneous desire, but instead revealed in their works that all desires are borrowed. We do not chose for ourselves the objects of our fascination. We desire those objects because they are first desired by another.

It’s such a great read! Girard describes in fascinating detail the mimetic intrigues and passions which take hold of our lives: the love triangles, the disastrous rivalries, the hidden resentments we harbor, and the moments of transcendence. The long and short of it is: whenever two or three are gathered, mimetic desire presents a significant challenge to peaceful coexistence. Imitated desire leads to competition over objects. Competition over objects erupts into a contagion of rivalry and reciprocal violence. Reading it, I immediately made connections to dynamics which undermined our activist work. It would apply to any work situation, to our church communities — it’s the best manual I’ve read for understanding our human interaction.

Over the course of his subsequent books, Violence and the Sacred (first published in 1972) and The Scapegoat (first published in 1982), Girard develops an incredibly useful hypothesis on the origins of culture. (I say hypothesis because we’ll never really know what happened way back there at the dawn of time). He describes a prehistoric scene, when our ancestors, in a fit of violent mimesis, channeled all the reciprocal aggression threatening to engulf the community onto a single individual, someone expendable to the group. What then becomes a mimetic convergence of all onto a single victim provides cathartic release. The community is delivered from the disastrous effects of it’s own violence, in what would have felt like a miraculous moment. They’ve been saved!

But there’s a catch, the community can’t admit to having just scapegoated someone… that would deprive them of the peace just miraculously received. Prehistoric communities reenacting that original moment in sacrificial rituals repackaged it in mythological stories in which the gods’ demand the sacrifice… Today we dehumanize the scapegoat, rationalizing their treatment as necessary to protect our own safety.

That, for Girard, is the birth of the violent sacred and the foundation of culture. When we read ancient texts or look at the archaeological record, it becomes very clear that the fear of violent contagion led archaic societies to contain mimesis and its effects through prohibition and ritual. That is, strict rules regulating desire paired with rituals to redirect violence onto a sacrificial vicim. MT clarifies why, with the advent of modern nation states, citizens willingly relinquish power, most notably the right to seek retribution, recognizing the state as the only legitimate force. If some one, whose envious of their neighbor, kills their neighbor and steals their stuff, they’ll be punished by the state. The state liberates its citizens from the fear of violent contagion. In a democratic society, this leaves us free to pursue our desires, it unleashes consumerism on a massive scale… we can imitate each other without fear of conflict… and imitate each other is exactly what we do!

Freedom to pursue our desires sounds great, doesn’t it? Except we must never forget that modern nation states are founded upon systemic scapegoating and continue to achieve peace by redirecting internal tensions onto scapegoats.

Mimetic Theory equips us with a powerful diagnostic tool. It allows us to deconstruct the lies which have rationalized the worst political crimes: the extermination of indigenous people, following the Civil War Jim Crow laws in the south, today the War on Drugs and mass incarceration. And it explains why in the United States of America, we have a history of blaming the weakest members of society for their plight, as if it has ever been a fair playing field, and how politicians to this day are able to wield the scapegoating of the weak as a rallying point.

MT can play a significant role detecting those instances, like now, when America is tempted — let me reframe that — when America may be mimetically induced to scapegoat again. In his book Violent and the Sacred, Girard sheds an uncanny light on politics: sometimes we choose leaders not for their high moral character but for their willingness to name scapegoats upon whose head we can discharge all our internal tensions.

All of this sounds so depressing. Yes, it is. People get angry when you for challenge the myth that America can do no wrong. In my case I wasn’t being stripped of any cherished notions about my beloved homeland. Years of activism had already deprived me any naive idealism… I had experienced so much rivalry within the peace and justice community. In my mid-thirties I had to quit activism for awhile, I was exhausted… that’s when I met Tony Bartlett and Jim Williams… it couldn’t have been better timing. Reading Girard for the first time, one book after another, I felt like someone who, after years of wandering lost in the desert, had just been handed a road map.

In Things Hidden Since the Foundation of the World (published in 1978), Girard reading Hebrew and Jewish scriptures, discovers that these texts are shaped by an awareness of mimesis, of rivalry, the various authors of the Hebrew texts understood, in one sense or another, the threat of violent contagion and our proclivity to scapegoat. Out of their own context of suffering, those writers developed a unique sensitivity to the plight of the victim. The Hebrew and the Christian texts may be read within the struggle to get free of our reliance on scapegoating. Now that was a revelation! Something that matched my own experience and answered a deep longing in my own heart.

When I eventually returned to activism, I did so with the awareness that we’re all mimetic creatures, prone to selfishness, rivalry and scapegoating… rather than walk away in disillusionment, I now recognize that that’s starting place from which our real work begins.

I haven’t lost hope or my belief in democracy… I still love my county. Hope forged out of a realistic understanding of what’s wrong does not abandon you when things get rough. In moments of setback you make use of what you learned, you steer clear of the the crowd intent on scapegoating and you seek another witness, a better option for people to gravitate to.

The way I see it, human beings, both individually and collectively, lack self-awareness… that is the root of our evil. To paraphrase Jesus on the cross, we know not what we do. They need to be given a better set of options.

Adam: What is the mission of Theology and Peace?

Susan: Theology and Peace was formed ten years ago by Tony Bartlett, a professor of theology at Bexley Hall, the then Episcopal seminary in Rochester NY, Michael Hardin, the director of Preaching Peace, and Tom Nicoll, an Episcopal Priest in Larchmont, New York. At this year’s conference we’ll celebrate our tenth anniversary! At the time they recognized the need for a forum where we could focus unapologetically on the implications of Mimetic Theory for Christian theology and praxis. COV&R, the Colloquium on Violence & Religion, the academic organization founded over 25 years ago invites scholars from diverse disciplines to discuss the continued application of MT in their various fields. A number of us on the board are members of COV&R. Theology & Peace invites pastors, lay people, theologians and activists to explore what many of us have discovered: that Mimetic Theory provides a much needed source for the renewal of Christian discourse and it’s engagement in the world. We host an annual conference. This year it will be held May 22-25 in Chicago. We host ongoing forums on our website and on our Facebook pages.

That’s where we started. Over the course of ten years our mission has evolved… our engagement with Mimetic Theory has drawn us into places we might not have otherwise ventured. Like Jesus, we’ve gone to the place of crisis. We tend to host our conferences in cities where the violence is front page news: in 2013 & 2104 we went to Baltimore, in 2015 & 2016 we gathered in Raleigh North Carolina just as the Moral Mondays protests were getting underway. This will be our third consecutive year in Chicago.

Looking back, I realize that in 2011 Theology & Peace made a signifiant decision, what I like to term our turn to the issue of racism. That year we chose to go to Baltimore. Board members Tony Ciccariello and Anthony Bartlett sought out personal connections in Sandtown, the neighborhood which, a few years later, erupted in protest after the death of Freddie Gray, a member of the Sandtown community who died while held in police custody. There Tony C and Tony B encountered Newborn Ministry and Elder CW Harris and Wendall Holmes, leaders of that community. Since then members of the Sandtown community have been important contributors to the work of Theology & Peace.
In 2013, planning our 6th annual conference, the Theology & Peace board made another important decision which had a profound impact on our collective sense of our mission. Despite some hesitation and a bit of trepidation the board chose a conference title which included the word: “Lynching” — “Lynching, Scapegoating & Actual Innocence.” There were concerns that that word was too strong and would scare people away.

Last year was the fourth year we addressed the issue of racism. And we’re not finished. Having shared conversations with black theologians, community activists, and people on the inside of the justice system, we’ve gained a tangible sense that we can change our “collective intentionality” (a term I got from psychologist Ann Kruger, one of our presenters in Raleigh) not just in our church congregations, or in our activist communities, but at the very heart of the sacrificial system — our justice system, beginning at ground zero so to speak, with encounters between people and police in our American cities, where intentionality has been left to chance and police and people are ill equipped to respond to each other in heated moments of conflict, when all the accumulated trauma, fear and tensions accumulated over this country’s history of racism reach the flash point and erupt. This is one area in which the practical application of Mimetic Theory could create real change.

Part of our mission is to challenge the status quo, especially the assumption that systemic scapegoating is too entrenched… for instance: racism’s appearance of intractability, forms part of the collective lie which allows the American people to maintain their anonymity — “I’m not a racist.” — “I hate racism, but I can’t begin to change such a deeply entrenched structure.”

Mimetic Theory helps us identify the ways that this nation is founded upon the scapegoating of black people, especially young black men. We recognize the historical stereotypes of blackness, black men which today is perpetuated by the media as means for designating an entire population as scapegoats. Likewise, it’s equally important that we don’t demonize those working in the justice system. We understand that those caught in the cross fire, so to speak, both the people and the police, are victims of this nation’s collective violence.

As Mimetic Theorists and readers of René Girard, Theology & Peace brings an important element to the discourse on race, the question of immigration, the refugee crisis, Christian/ muslim relations. In response to these crises, we, through practices that cultivate of self-awareness, an opportunity to back away from our collective tendency to scapegoat and create an alternative witness.

Adam: The name “Theology and Peace” is a great name for the organization. The words theology and peace seem like they are obviously connected. But for an organization to make the connection in such an obvious way, maybe the connection isn’t so obvious. The leads me to a two-part question – First, how has theology been connected to violence? Second, how can Theology and Peace help us into a more peaceful theology?

Susan: So many people are abandoning religious institutions because theology not only feels like a dead language with no practical applications for their lives, it is hopelessly implicated in a history of bloodshed. There’s no denying it, theology has produced some of humanity’s greatest evil, but it is also responsible for some of the greatest good. The same can be said about the word “Peace.” A lot of evil has been committed in the name of Peace, in the name of God, in the name of Freedom, Justice and Democracy. Nevertheless we need these words, because, as one of my favorite philosopher/theologians John Caputo says, they continue to place a demand on us.

Mimetic Theory allows me to distinguish, in a sense, between a good peace and bad peace (but not in any fixed dualistic sense), that is, between a peace that’s established through some sort of scapegoating, like the peace between Pilot and Herod, and a peace that is trying its very best to free itself from scapegoating. The same can be said of God: we can distinguish between angry spiteful images of God, and a loving, compassionate image of God, concerned with the plight of the victim. In fact theology can become the study of the difference between these various images. Why do we choose one over the other? How do we free ourselves from our reliance on the retributive god? To the extent that we engage with a theology founded in the image of a compassionate, loving god concerned for the weak, the more we find ourselves transformed by that image, becoming that image for others. So in a sense, I feel we need to redeem those words, Theology & Peace, put them back into play in a truly fruitful way. I can’t think of any other words I’d rather use.

Adam: Justice is also a major theme within theology and peace. Desmond Tutu once claimed that “… peace without justice is an impossibility.” Yet, Rene Girard rarely talked about justice. What do you think is the role of justice in creating peace?

Susan: The nations always seek peace. But too often peace comes at the at the expense of the weak, the vulnerable, or someone different from us. Powerful nations and their leaders sign treaties and call it peace, they may even call it justice, but if it doesn’t build a peace that includes all members of a society, if it doesn’t show mercy on all sides, it is a violent, unjust peace. When I think of justice I think of Zechariah 7:10:

Thus says the LORD of hosts, ‘Render true judgments, show kindness and mercy each to his brother, do not oppress the widow, the fatherless, the sojourner, or the poor; and let none of you devise evil against his brother in your heart.’ But they refused to hearken, and turned a stubborn shoulder, and stopped their ears that they might not hear.

And Matthew 25:45 comes to mind:

‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it not to one of the least of these, you did it not to me.’

A peace built on scapegoating is not a lasting peace, an economy that does not benefit all the members of society, is not sustainable, at some point the violent structures collapses upon themselves. Girard saw this. In Zechariah, because they refuse to listen the people are scattered and the nation is left desolate. Whatever your cosmology might be, Girard understood that there can be no rest, no true enjoyment of this world or the next, until we give up our sacrificial systems in the here and now.

Justice requires that we invite everyone to the table, including our enemies. We can be angry with Donald Trump, but it’s important that we recognize his humanity and treat him with respect. We need to change the culture which accepts the name calling in the media and back and forth accusation as normal… Mimetic Theory understands that accusation iniates the unconscious dymanics I described earlier, which trigger the lynch mob mentally. Our brains are habituated to recognize those cues… before you know it, people are converging on a victim. We can access other neural pathways in our collectively wired brains, pathways responsible for compassion and empathy, cultivate those by stretching ourselves in new directions. This requires we steer clear of accusation and find other ways to repond to those we disagree with. We must quiet our fear reflex and invite Muslims, immigrants and refugees to the table. Can you imagine what it feels like to be a young person growing up in an immigrant family… what would it do to your self concept to hear the ugly accusations made in the media, made by public officials?

And while in the current context it appears we’re headed as a nation in the wrong direction, I still believe that history does not have to repeat… there is still a chance to respond to the demand for justice and mercy, to dream the dream of democracy!

Adam: What is the theme of this year’s conference?

Susan: “Embracing We-Centricity: Practices that Nurture the Common Good.” I believe the neuroscientist Vittorio Gallese coined the term “We-Centricity” to describe our inherent openness to the other.

…every time we relate to other people, we automatically inhabit a we-centric space, within which we exploit a series of implicit certainties about the other. This implicit and pre-theoritical, but at the same time contentful state enables us to directly understand what the other person is doing, why he or she is doing it, and how he or she feels about a specific situation. (Vittorio Gallese, “The Two Sides of Mimesis,” Mimesis and Science, 100.)

I don’t know how any of us can still believe in the myth of individual autonomy. Vittorio Gallese, one of the neuroscientists to discover mirror neurons, and connect that discovery with a theory of Social Cognition (how we understand each others’ emotions, intentions, and desires) has used this same research to identify the brain structures responsible for mimesis.

According to Gallese and others we are wired for mimesis. From the moment of birth, the human brain, through the observation, interpretation, and imitation of others’ actions, is ever grasping for opportunities to learn the skills necessary for life. That means, for good or for bad, we are inescapably connected to each other. There is no such thing as the autonomous individual.

Some may say that our conference theme and our name, Theology & Peace, sound naive… but really they’re not. In a funny sense that’s the key to our work. Mimetic Theory allows us to recognize why we-centricity is always problematic…why the common good, has historically bad thing for those being excluded — if left to our unconscious collective dynamics our inherent we-centricity leads to scapegoating … then it’s violent. However, in recognizing this, in understanding how our tendency to scapegoat infects so much of what we do, we can turn that understanding to build communities intentionally seeking to get free of scapegoating, then we-centricity and the common good become a positive goal. In a sense it’s an impossible vision, but it’s the only vision really worth having. Others have shared that vision, they’ve given everything for it: Jesus, Mahatma Gandhi, Mandela, Oscar Romero — just being in their presence, hearing their words — we get a sense that a common good is a possibility out there, beckoning us. Those individuals keep opening the door to that possibility, inviting us to join them.

Adam: Who are the speakers and what will they be speaking about?

Susan: All of our speakers will engage us in practices to essentially rewire our brains. To train in us new habitual ways of being together. Who says it? Maybe it was Cynthia Bourgeault “Neurons that fire together wire together,” a phrase borrowed from Donald Hebb, a Canadian neuropsychologist.

For our first plenary session Theology & Peace board member, Sereta Richardson, will present on Circle Processes. Sereta is a young black woman, a single mother, and an ex-police officer from Mississippi. She is one of the most eloquent spokespeople for Mimetic Theory that I have yet to meet. I would guess that her eloquence is born of life experience. I think she’s our youngest board member, but she may be the wisest. She will set the stage for this year’s conference by leading us in Circle Process. Leaders in Circle Process draws on the ancient Native American tradition of the talking piece and combine that with concepts of democracy and inclusivity. It utilizes powerful images to invite us into inclusive community structures:

Our ancestors gathered around a fire in a circle, families gather around their kitchen tables in circles, and now we are gathering in circles as communities to solve problems…

Recommended Reading: Kay Pranis, The Little Book of Circle Processes: A New/Old Approach to Peacemaking ( New York: Good Books, 2005). A title in The Little Books of Justice and Peacebuilding Series.

Brian Robinette and Father Martin Laird will lead us in a session on Contemplative PracticeBrian Robinette is Associate Professor and Co-director of the Joint MA in Philosophy and Theology at Boston College. In my mind he is one the most important thinkers working with Mimetic Theory who has thought and written extensively about the Christian contemplative tradition in light of Mimetic Theory. I’ve heard Brian speak before. He never fails to offer the most amazing insights:

When we turn our gaze inward, we can learn to recognize all the forms of desire within us!
The contemplative life is not opposed to the active life, it is freedom from the reactive life.
By cultivating stillness  we let go of our neighbor as mimetic hook!

Father Martin Laird is a Professor of Theology at Villanova University. He has extensive training in contemplative disciplines and gives retreats throughout the United States and Great Britain. I am very excited that Martin Laird will join us. When it comes to Christian contemplative practice and its ability to free us from the endless mill of suffering, from anxiety and depression — I think of Martin Laird.

Father Martin is the author of A Sunlit Absence: Silence, Awareness, and Contemplation (2011), Gregory of Nyssa and the Grasp of Faith (2007) and Into the Silent Land (2006). Into the Silent Land is one of my very favorite books on contemplative practice, a book  I like to purchase and give away to friends.

This will be an incredibly important session. If you take for instance, Deceit, Desire, and the Novel, as your manual outlining all the ways mimetic desire hooks us and you pair it with contemplative practice as understood by Brian Robinette and Martin Laird, I would say, you’ve equipped yourself with probably the best practice to retrain your brain, to step back from many mimetic hooks we encounter on a daily basis and simply let them pass down the stream of conscious awareness.

Jonathan Brenneman present on Christian Peacemaking and activism. Jonathan is Coordinator, Israel/Palestine Partners in Peacemaking, Mennonite Church USAHe comes from a long line of Mennonites on his father’s side and a prominent Palestinian Christian family on his mother’s side. He grew up in a small town in Ohio. After attending Huntington University, where he studied History and Philosophy, he worked with Christian Peacemaker Teams Palestine (CPT) Project in Hebron. CPT’s mission is to build partnerships to transform violence and oppression. Jonathan worked on the ground with Palestinian and Israeli peacemakers, and organized in the USA to challenge oppressive Israeli policies. Most recently Jonathan completed a master’s degree in Peace Studies at Notre Dame’s Kroc Institute. That program included a six month internship with Ndifuna Ukwazi in Cape Town South Africa, an organization which advocates for more just land policies. He currently works for Mennonite Church USA, coordinating educational opportunities about Israel-Palestine.

Adam: What do you see as the role of Theology and Peace in our current cultural climate (Trump, politics, religion …)?

Susan: A year ago, this time, the Theology & Peace board recognized that whatever the turnout of the Presidential election, this country would be deeply divided. We are a nation sick with rivalry. While the political parties engage in what Girard terms a model-obstacle obssession with other, they’ve lost sight of the role the were commissioned for. No wonder an increasing portion of the electorate no longer feel that their elected officials, the government as a whole, nor the economy are working for their benefit. Indeed, the electoral vote, like any object of rivalrous realtionship, quickly disappears from sight as the rivlary between the political parties continues to intensify.

I’m not sure how I would react right now. I might despair if I didn’t have thinkers like René Girard, Paul Dumouchel, or postmodern philosopher Jacques Derrida (another thinker who is for me as important as Girard) to help me think my way through this crisis. But even more important how would I feel if I wasn’t part of a community, like Theology & Peace, which is trying to translate the wisdom cultivated from MT into actual practice? Our churches, our synagogoes, our work places, every place where two or three are gathered… can be that… a witness to a better way of being human together. My hope is that more people could come in contact with this…

Democracy is up against it limits, we all know it, but again it’s from that position that we can engage in the real work of creating an inclusive society. Anyone who has made strides in that direction, the political saints of the past, have done so there at the limit point.
In a world that is increasingly prone to pessimism and despair, we’re tempted to give up on democracy, on justice, on truth… leaders willing to scapegoat as a path to power will take advantage of the situation, it’s the perfect breeding ground for tyranny. In this climate we must continue to use words like democracy, freedom, liberty, justice, equality… I say that without hesitation. They are still the best words we have, the greatest dreams we dream. It’s our work with Mimetic Theory that allows me to say this, and I think I speak for everyone on the board of Theology & Peace. In all my years of activism, in the church, in divinity school I have never encountered a group of people more invested in those dreams… we’re in it for the promise that till beckons us —- that this nation can be “great” to the extent that it continues to responds to that call: “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free…”

For sure, US history has a very checkered past: marked by genocide, by slavery, and imperialism we have so far to go in equal rights for all people. With the increasing divide betwen the rich and EVERYBODY else, more people are feeling that the American dream has gotten too far out of reach… So many of us who thought America was on an upward path, are feeling demoralized. Not to mention that false new has us left in a tail spin.
But Mimetic Theory has some tools to cope with this… it understands the untruth of the crowd (a phrase taken from Kierkegaard) Untruth is nothing new for those who’ve been maligned because of their race or creed. It’s difficult for white, middle class Americans to suddenly find themselves subjected to obvious lies. But again it’s the oldest game.

Girard always considered himself a realist. For him there’s nothing more real than the blood of the victim spilled on the ground. Not as a rallying point for revenge, but as a kind of reality check. Two summers ago when the body of Michael Brown, an armed black man, age 18, fatally shot by police, was left for four hours face down in the middle of the street, blood streaming from his head.… it doesn’t get more real that! The NY Times made precisely that point in this video https://www.nytimes.com/2014/08/24/us/michael-brown-a-bodys-timeline-4-hours-on-a-ferguson-street.html

What does that say about our nation? It speaks volumes.

We-Centricity becomes a positive reality, rather than a negative one, when we become aware of our deep seated tendencies to scapegoat, when we cultivate, through daily practice, our ability to step back from the mimetic dynamics that lead to scapegoating, so that at some point inclusivity becomes our habitual way of being together rather than opposite.

Mimetic Theory’s insights don’t end with diagnosis, it also teaches us that change doesn’t have to come from those in power… but most likely occurs through our connectedness. As Nelson Mandela taught us, it can come from within the mist oppressive structures, from those condemned to the status of the scapegoat… Mandela in his day to day responses to those who held him captive not only changed the “collective intentionality” of his prison community, he eventually changed the “collective intentionality” of an entire nation. That’s where it’s at!

Please register at Eventbrite: https://www.eventbrite.com/e/theology-peace-10th-annual-conference-embracing-we-centricity-tickets-21595441547

 

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The Most Important Passage in the Bible

Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect. (Matt. 5:48)

I nominate Matthew 5:38-48 as the most important passage in Scripture for our time. It conveys the element in Jesus’ teaches ministry which most distinguishes him in human history. Has there ever been anyone else prior to Jesus to teach that perfect love reaches out to include even enemies?

It is also implies the theology that stands out as transcendent to the default theology of human evolution. The latter is the god of our tribe, our nation, our group — the god-on-our-side. But a God who teaches to love even enemies pushes humankind toward experiencing God anew as the God who embraces all human beings — the God who “makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous.”

Paul the Apostle extends this theology to make God’s action in Jesus the Messiah to be about making peace, in what I consider a close second as the most important Scripture for our time:

For [the Messiah] is our peace; in his flesh he has made both groups into one and has broken down the dividing wall, that is, the hostility between us. He has abolished the law with its commandments and ordinances, that he might create in himself one new humanity in place of the two, thus making peace… (Eph. 2:14-15)

There is no longer us and them; there is only us. And we meet a God for all, no longer any god-on-our-side. This dawning peace brings “Be perfect, as your Father in heaven is perfect” to its logical conclusion.

From the perspective of Mimetic Theory, isn’t this the crucial pivot point of our human evolution? We evolved with the Scapegoat Mechanism at the foundation of all our human cultures, meaning that all our cultures are structured on an us-them basis and then justified by the god-on-our-side. Paul in Romans 5:12-21 maps this pivot in the typology of the First Anthropos, Adam, and the Second Anthropos, the Messiah. One is formed in disobedience and the second opens the possibility of obedience: “For just as by the one man’s disobedience the many were made sinners, so by the one man’s obedience the many will be made righteous” (Rom. 5:19). What constitutes obedience? The Sermon on the Mount, especially Matthew 5:38-48. Be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect. Love your enemies.

This points to the anthropological and theological revolution which has yet to take place. Christendom lapsed back into the god-on-our-side of empire, and Christians are still struggling to recover. Many American Christians, especially white Christians, are eager to embrace the nationalistic message of a Donald Trump, in which everything is deeply structured in terms of an us-and-them. Following Donald Trump precludes following Jesus the Messiah in obedience to the Sermon on the Mount. Elements of our situation are eerily similar to the nationalism of the Nazi movement, and Luther Pastor Dietrich Bonhoeffer found that his go-to text in the face of rising Nazism was the Sermon on the Mount (see one of the few books he was able to publish before being martyred by the Nazis, Discipleship.)

An irony of history, one that follows the paradox of a Crucified Messiah (an outsider to everyone’s culture!), is that first significant glimpses in our time of obedience to Jesus’ teaching came through a Hindu man, Mahatma Gandhi. In my last blog on these pages (“Have a Courageous New Year”), I even suggested that God sent Gandhi with perfect timing. At the very moment in history when human beings created weapons capable of self-annihilation, God sent us a man who could, in obedience to Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount, give us a nonviolent way of waging war. It is a way of waging war “not against enemies of blood and flesh, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places” (Eph. 6:12). It is a way of war that seeks not to defeat human enemies but to turn enemies into friends. As Rev. Dr. William Barber II puts it, “A nonviolent struggle has two possible ends: winning the opposition as friends or giving up the battle” (The Third Reconstruction, p. 93).

I offer these reflections on the Seventh Sunday after the Epiphany A, the only Sunday in the three-year Revised Common Lectionary that takes Matthew 5:38-48 as its Gospel Reading. If I were to propose one change to the RCL it would be to find a way to use this passage on a more regular basis. Acts 10:34-43 — the very important opening of Peter’s sermon in the home of Cornelius — is used four times in the RCL — the Baptism of Our Lord A, and all three years on Easter Day. We need to find another day to use Matthew 5:38-48 in a similar fashion. And the shortcoming of the RCL on this score is accentuated by the fact that the Seventh Sunday after the Epiphany A is skipped over more often than not. It’s appearance relies on having a date for Easter that is late (at least three Sundays into April). In recent years, for example, there was a 21-year gap between appearances! — 1990 to 2011 — the intervening five cycles of Year A falling when Easter was too early. (Strangely, Easter has been late enough the last three cycles of Year A — 2011, 2014, 2017.) In any case, I leave you with my webpage for Epiphany 7A, as well as my sermon on this text which echoes this blog (especially making use of Brian McLaren’s treatment of the passage in The Secret Message of Jesus), “The Most Important Passage in the Bible.”

Happy Seventh Sunday after the Epiphany! May God in Jesus Christ make us perfect in love!

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