In Words of Christ (Paroles du Christ) -- here translated into English for the first time -- Michel Henry asks how Christ can be both human and divine. He considers, further, how we as humans can experience Christ's humanity and divinity through his words. Are we able to recognize this speech as divine, and if so, then how? What can testify to the divine nature of these words? What makes them intelligible? Startling possibilities -- and further questions -- emerge as Henry systematically explores these enigmas. For example, how does the phenomenology of life bring to light the God of which scripture speaks? Might this new region of phenomenality broaden or transform the discipline of phenomenology itself, or theology?
Henry approaches these questions starting from the angle of material phenomenology, but his study has far-reaching implications for other disciplines too. Intended for a wide audience, his work is a uniquely philosophical approach to the question of Christ and to the place of this question in human experience. This highly original, interdisciplinary perspective on Christ's words was Henry's last work, published shortly after his death in 2002.
This book was my introduction to Henry and the first book I ever read by any sort of phenomenologist. It may be an understatement to say that it was mind-stretching because it seems more mind-blowing than anything. It is probably one of the most thought provoking books I ever read. As for integrating or adjusting it with my present conceptions of the "Words of Christ" (Christian orthodoxy) I realize that will take much more thought and study. I found a number of articles that look interesting which can be found if one "googles" the names Michel Henry and those that provided the translation, forward, and introduction to this book. Of course what they included with this volume were very helpful. Another name you may want to check in connection with Henry is Joseph Rivera. All of that being said, I will simply add that this was not an easy read but I'll nevertheless dangle a carrot for those interested and say that I'll probably never read the Words of Christ in the Gospel of John or any of the gospels in the same way. I might summarize why I think this by adding that my trinitarian "belief" was probably given a virtual transfusion of "Life" such that I haven't felt since reading some of C. S. Lewis thoughts on the Trinity in "Mere Christianity" many years ago. If to some extent you like to "think outside the box" this slim but fairly "packed" book will help you do so.
The English translation and publication of Michel Henry’s book (Words of Christ) contains a helpful introduction by Karl Hefty, a forward by Jean-Yves Lacoste, and a translator’s introduction (Christina Gschwandtner). Much praise must be lauded on the translator for giving readers Henry’s dense philosophy-theology in a language that reveals and communicates divine secrets with pristine and crystalline clarity. This book is yet another stellar instance of the theological “turn” to phenomenology, e.g., as represented in the writings of Emmanuel Falque. In Henry too, there is a move to bridge the distance between theology and philosophy in terms of a fecund rapprochement, thus challenging, transforming, and deepening “the historical interaction between theology and philosophy” (Centre of Theology and Philosophy, UK).
Again, as I have stated in reviews of other French theologians now in English translation, readers are required to possess knowledge of European phenomenology, e.g., Husserl and Heidegger (and the focus on Heidegger seems to be restricted to Being and Time, i.e., prior to Heidegger’s anti-subjectivist “turn” in the 1930s and beyond). Related to this point, Henry could be read in terms of representing a unique “radical subjectivist” who works to establish the so-called “communal” aspect of humanity, or the notion of “Being-with-others,” via the transformation to human subjectivity occurring through God’s divine intervention (Word of God/Word of Life). Thus, this is not the solus ipse and instead a mode of “individuation” that is extended and transcends our egoistic/subjective worldly attachments; it is a form of “expansive” and divinely inspired subjectivity that might be expressed through the encounter with God through the phenomenon of Gelassenheit (Ekart/Heidegger).
Subjectivity, which is first born of the original Word, is explained by Henry in terms that are undeniably “mystical” (and Aristotelian) in nature, in terms of the “Arch-revelation” of God (here, archē, from the Greek for “origin”), where the “inner movement of Absolute Life [God] generates the First Self and expresses itself,” and this “inner movement” of God’s spirit in us is also what generates our subjective selves, when our moment of self-revelation becomes as possibility. Of note, neither “consciousness” nor “conscience” is of concern for Henry, who is focused on the idea of “Life” as an originary phenomenon linked inextricably to various instances of “perception,” e.g., experiential modes of feeling, suffering, pain, joy, etc., which are all states of being intensely “affected,” as in the Greek pathein, “to suffer, undergo, and bear up” - to take up one’s cross and burdens, as it were.
What is offered here is unique from the perspective of phenomenological analysis. Henry offers a “philosophy of language” through which he neither analyzes the sayings of Jesus nor interprets pericopes from the New Testament. Instead, the author shows how it is that language functions through Christ’s usage, how language instantiates the dual nature of his unique Being. Henry stresses throughout the power that language harbors to reveal again, and in a new light, the realms of the “human” (word) and “divine” (Word), and further, how the language of Christ holds the power to transform listeners in their hearts, i.e., the phenomenon of metanoia. In the process, the philosophies of humanism and materialism are challenged as modes of inauthentic and stultifying states of attunement, both of which obscure the Holy Word from reaching us.
Henry’s theory of language is briefly presented in Chapter Seven in terms of an empty (but necessary) system of signification that links us to the external world, but this view does not represent the essential nature of language, which lies in its ability, once transformed through an understanding of what Christ’s “words” mean. Christ’s Words reveal humans to themselves while at once revealing his own divine relationship with and to God, and ultimately, this makes possible our relation to God through Christ’s words. Language thus conceived lives as “self-revelation” in and through a divine light.
“With Christianity arises the incredible intuition of a different Logos,” writes Henry, and here, as opposed to Logos as a “gathering force,” as in later Heidegger, or a cosmological principle, as in Heraclitus, Logos is a transformed and revelatory mode of language that speaks “of” our relationship to the world, ourselves, Christ, and God as opposed to talking “about” things (here divinely inspired and not poetic in nature). I note that although the issue of “ontology” is never explicitly discussed or even stated by Henry, it might be said that his phenomenological revised notion of language - and overall understanding of revelation - hinges on the ontic/ontological distinction, and there are other instances where the division between “word of the world and Word of Life” harken to the (1927) Heideggerian distinction, based on the proximity to Being, between “discourse” (Rede) and “language” (Sprache).
This also applies to Henry’s understanding of human “ipseity” and divine “Ipseity,” which in both cases references “self-insight” or “revelation of the self to the self.” Just as God knows His nature, we too can come to know our nature (which is never merely of a worldly/objective kind of insight). To summarize certain difficult (but crucial) notions is to unfortunately, and perhaps unavoidably, do an injustice to the subtle elegance of Henry’s line of thought and argumentation: God is the Word and the Word of “Life-itself”; Christ is the Word of God made flesh; we participate in and so instantiate “Life-itself,” and so have the potential to “know ourselves” as this Life. Henry references Meister Ekhart, but suffice to say, this is also a line of reasoning famously linked to St. Augustine…I can know God because God is (always already) in me. The process of “revelation” intimates, but does not explicate, an understanding or foundational sense of kenosis as an “outpouring or emptying” of God’s spirit into the Son, and then into us.
The Word of God mediated through Christ requires a fertile ground (receptive heart) within which to take root and blossom (Gelassenheit), but we are unfortunately “lost” in a world of noise, or “mundane talk,” of egoistic concerns, and hence the Word is obscured behind a voluntaristic illusion (evil) that wrongly views the human being as the central hub around which the entire universe rotates; we fail to see that God gives us Life as a “gift” (our freedom). But the Words of Christ touch on the essential nature of the human being, the Word of Life has always been there, continually informing the ways we speak “about” the world, and it is the Word of Life that we must (once again) become attuned to, which speaks through us at all times.
“The possibility for humans to hear the Words of Christ in their hearts is precisely that of comprehending the Scriptures.” When we are open to the power of these words, receptive to the Spirit that inspires these words, it is “here present, being clearly indicated as the Spirit of the Lord.” When the heart is illumed, our actions are thus transformed, when the Word of God is received through the Words of Christ as given to us “in the flesh, uniting his flesh with ours, Christ is in and with us, and we are in and with him, much like Christ is in and with the Father and the Father, in turn, is in and with him.” Here, noting an antiquated distinction, with the turn to phenomenology and scripture, Henry is in the "revealed religion" camp and not aligned with the tradition of "natural religion".
To reiterate, with these thoughts, it becomes evident why readers need to know European phenomenology - for Heidegger there is Seinvergessenheit, for Henry it is Gottesvergessenheit - and this is true for all of what I would call “neo-theosophy” that consists of the technical focus on and inclusion of phenomenology in their analyses. The story runs thusly: There is an original fall or alienation from an essential source - this is revealed through a “diagnosis” (usually termed Destruktion in the German). Then the path for a return, via a “prescription” is offered, which usually amounts to a change or transformation of human attunement (Stimmung). And, as with all “prescriptive” therapies, we must recall the power of Derrida’s analysis regarding the danger bound up with the pharmakon.
To conclude, I recommend this book to readers interested in (1) new directions taken in European phenomenology, (2) interpretations of Christianity that adopt a path consistent with what John Caputo calls “radical theology,” as set off from “confessional theology,” and (3) philosophies seeking to offer in a well-reasoned fashion, insight into the Christian miracle of life, faith, love, and Grace. So, I believe that both philosophy and seminary students will enjoy this book. It is undeniable that much of Henry’s interpretation can be mapped onto a reading of the Holy Trinity - indeed his first mention of the “Lord’s Spirit” does not occur until Chapter 10, but it is there! Hence a link might be established with Catholicism. However, much like Jean-Luc Marion, Henry is a philosopher-and-phenomenologist embracing and pursuing “religious” or theological ideas. Henry refused the reductive label of “confessional theologian.”
Dr. James M. Magrini Former: Philosophy/College of DuPage
As Henry's last work, this is also, in my opinion, his best work for those who want a succinct yet thorough introduction to his thought. Not only is the book just over 100 pages, but it also employs the least technical jargon of all the works I've read by him; each chapter is about 10 pages and tends to focus on a core theme, making it very readable.
He covers his classic themes, like the dual appearance of the world, which is visible, and that of life, which is invisible, and which he equates with God; the reductiveness of materialism, which fails to adequately account for subjective human experience; the distinction between finite lives, which all of us are, and infinite Life, which bestows the power of life to us; the illusion of the independent ego, which leads to modern subjectivism (similar to Heidegger); and the disparity between ordinary language, which is referential, and the pathos of life which, in its feeling, is at one with itself.
I'm not a Christian, nor am I religious for that matter, but I found Henry's elucidation of the foundation of Christian ethics fascinating. This is a topic I'm very interested in, more so philosophically than solely theologically. For example, two ideas that struck me the most: (1) love, if it is to be truly love, ought to be unconditional rather than reciprocal and (2) God, conceived as our interior life, our conscience, knows the "secrets of the heart," which is a rich concept with many parallels (e.g., Socrates, Kant, Derrida, Heidegger—even Sartre, I'd wager!).
Yet there is much in here of which to be critical, too. A glaring aspect is his unrelenting, intense anti-modernism. I've never been sure which denomination Henry was—I think I read in some academic review that he was Catholic—but throughout this work, as well as his other Christian works, he loves to take shots, many of them cheap, at contemporary society through his religious lens. There's nothing inherently wrong with this, as it is his freedom of expression, after all; but there is a reactionary, venomous quality in his polemics that comes through strikingly.
He claims Christianity is being systematically oppressed, especially in education, probably in response to France's laïcité policy, and rails against "the totalitarian dogmatism of so-called 'democratic' nations" (8) "where [there] is no longer either law or respect for or observance of laws" (I forgot to get the page number here). To be sure, liberal democracies are not perfect and can be criticized, but Henry seems to want to restore a kind of theocracy that violates the separation of church and state.
Several times, he announces, "Contrary to the falsehoods of the positivistic, pseudo-historical, and atheistic exegesis of the nineteenth century, it can therefore be assumed…” (6) and “For contrary to the atheistic and mendacious exegesis of the nineteenth century…” (45-6). Naturally, since he uses "therefore," you'd expect him to provide an argument—but he doesn't. He seems to be more interested in dogmatics and apologetics than anything else when he criticizes "atheistic exegesis" without providing historical, archeological, or literary arguments to back it up; instead, his argument seems to be that Christ truly was divine for a priori reasons, or else his statements wouldn't be as powerful.
Lastly, as a philosophical point, he insists that "absolute Life is not a concept or an abstraction: it is real life which experiences itself really in itself” (83). I can buy his phenomenological argument about the dependence and immanence of finite life, but to say that we genuinely, in first-person experience, feel some kind of "absolute life" that is eternal and self-generating, I can't help but be skeptical that this is metaphysics rather than phenomenology.
An interesting text, but I think fundamentally flawed as concerns traditional, orthodox Christianity. Henry seems to have a flat ontology making little distinction between Christ and Christians. Also, his ambiguity on who has life creates a possibility that animals, by his definition are not alive. Nevertheless, I would recommend this text to anyone who wanted to see an attempt at combining Christianity and phenomenology. I will, however, readily admit that I am no expert in phenomenology and may be misconstruing his thought. This is merely my first blush understanding.
Een fenomenologische closereading van het Bijbelboek Johannes, zoals Kierkegaards 'Vrees en beven' een existentialistische closereading is van het verhaal van het zoonoffer van Abraham. En een absoluut meesterwerk.