Deconstruction. Now there’s a spicy word – especially if you’ve been around Christian church circles in the last 10 or so years. So let’s start off with some definitions.
‘Deconstruction’ is a postmodern philosophical movement – largely the work of the French philosopher Jacques Derrida. Wikipedia tells us it’s ‘a loosely-defined set of approaches to understanding the relationship between text and meaning... proposals of language’s fluidity instead of being ideally static and discernible’. Well, that doesn’t tell you much. Better to see it in action, but suffice to say that it’s the philosophical form of the word that John Caputo’s book primarily deals with.
Meanwhile ‘deconstruction’ has also come to mean a process whereby a person re-evaluates their inherited faith, or the faith as it was originally parcelled for them. It’s been going on since day dot – it’s not a new process in the faith journey, but it’s recently become known by this name. To borrow a quote from the early 20th century evangelical minister and author, Frank Boreham: ‘A man might as well try to wear his father’s clothes as try to wear his father’s faith. It will never really fit him’ (Mushrooms on the Moor). By this, Boreham means our faith has to become our own.
It’s a necessary process. But it is often very painful. And a lot of people are afraid of it, because it questions the status quo, potentially rocks the boat and threatens systems of control. It involves moments of doubt – which can freak out fundamentalism(s). But doubt, to quote Boreham again, ‘is a very human and a very sacred thing...’
The personal process of deconstruction can be sparked by various events, or accumulations of events, and the outcomes are various... including, but not limited to: a deeper, more nuanced and mature faith; a less certain (perhaps read, humble) faith; a more radically inclusive (perhaps read, loving) faith; a faith that is less confined to just one enclosed faith system; and for some, the loss of faith, as things seem to be irreconcilable/impossible – at least for now. All these outcomes are understandable.
Knowing deconstruction (the life event), I noticed some common ground in Caputo’s discussion of deconstruction (the philosophy) – you might too, in what follows. They’re not the same thing, but their contemporary forms arise from, and take place in, the same milieu: postmodernity.
Philosophies of postmodernism deal with the current epoch: postmodernity. If you’re a Christian who has been influenced by the thinking of the mid-20th century philosopher Francis Schaeffer (you may not know you have been – he was very influential), you might assume that postmodernism created postmodernity. But that’s too simplistic – in reality there’s a complex interweaving between philosophy and culture, and in many ways postmodernism is simply describing the epoch, rather than creating it. Anyway, I’m getting a bit off the main point.
It’s actually not a coincidence that the word ‘deconstruction’ is found in the two forms already mentioned. It entered the vernacular of the Christian church via the Emergent Church movement that occurred from (I guess) about the early 2000s. Some of the influential thinkers in this area, keen to discover what the church might look like in postmodernity, were interested in things like deconstruction as a philosophy. So in the atmosphere of re-evaluation that was taking place, the word morphed across from the philosophy to the life event.*
Postmodernism was talked about a lot, and the concepts of postmodern philosophies were taken seriously – especially by people like the thinker Pete Rollins. Within the wider church, people got scared of the Emergent Church and of postmodernism – again largely due to an approach bequeathed to the evangelical church by Schaeffer, which fuelled the ‘culture wars’, fostered a siege mentality and a highly guarded approach to philosophy, and which (sadly) undermined the possibility of many fruitful discussions.
But, to borrow James K.A. Smith’s rhetorical title for the first book in the series of which this one by John Caputo is a part: ‘Who’s afraid of postmodernism?’ Not me. I studied some postmodern approaches as part of an English degree at university as a zealous evangelical kid; and just relying on my own intuition (thankfully not too damaged by Schaefferian-style attitudes), I sensed potential points of connection with the Christian faith. I didn’t know much, but I knew discussions could be had, and I found that very exciting.
Anyway, this all seems like a massive divergence, but I’m getting there... because this book by John Caputo (American philosopher, emeritus Professor of Religion at Syracuse University and the emeritus Professor of Philosophy at Villanova University), and his work in general, inhabits that very philosophical/theological space. He loves a bit of Derrida and a bit of deconstruction (the philosophical approach), and he loves putting that stuff in conversation with theology. Good man.
In this book, he uses deconstruction as a hermeneutic for examining Christianity. (‘Deconstruction can wear many hats and travel under many names. Calling it the “hermeneutics of the kingdom of God” is what happens when it sets up shop in biblical religion’ Notes, p140... whoa, he calls it the ‘hermeneutics of the kingdom of God’!)
As I mentioned in my recent review on the book Phenomenology by Donald Wallenfang, there is an element of ‘play’ in this. But it’s serious work. I can’t say how true to Derrida’s intent Caputo’s application of deconstruction is. I’m sure there are plenty of atheist deconstructionists who would take exception to it. (It can probably be deconstructed.) I don’t know if I’ve even grasped Caputo’s version of deconstruction (deconstruction, by the way, is inherently elusive).
There’s more, but my own brief summary takeaway is something like this...
For Christians, the seeds of deconstruction are already inherent in the Text / text(s) we adhere to (revere). They sit there waiting to deconstruct our systems of power, privilege and exclusion (‘deconstruction isn’t something that we do to things; deconstruction happens’, p16; ‘Things are auto-deconstructed by the tendencies of their own inner truth’ p29; ‘When something is deconstructed, it is not razed but reconfigured and transformed in response to inner and uncontainable impulses’ p135). The Sermon on the Mount, for example: full of ideas that deconstruct. And it’s often those people or groups perceived by the system (any system, but read, ‘church’ if you like) as ‘outsiders’ who bring this to attention / activation (feel free to consider who such groups and people might be, at this point). Jesus was all about that. Deconstruction in this sense is an on-going process / work.
Caputo takes all sorts of aspects of deconstruction and puts them in conversation with Christianity. For example: ‘Prayer is prayer when prayer is impossible; otherwise it is a convenience. Eloi, eloi, lama sabachthani is a perfectly auto-deconstructing prayer: it is addressed to God – which presupposes our faith that we are not abandoned – and asks why God has abandoned us.’ (p127)
If I may, rather than trying to summarise (or indeed review) further, I’ll finish by attempting a quick ‘Caputoesque’ deconstructionist reading (as I understand it).
Today I read the Auckland Church Leaders’ Easter Letter, which was this year excellently penned by my good friend, Lyndon Drake. It contains this paragraph:
‘Many people are cynical about the church. We get that. But we hope that, as society watches us, it will see the church increasingly cross-shaped as God’s resurrection power transforms us, and that we are giving up our rights and privileges – even “our” land and money – to empty ourselves of what we have so that we can better serve others. We hope you will see us look more like Jesus.’
Whoa. This is jam-packed with ideas that can deconstruct power systems and stati quo.
First, it acknowledges cynicism – maybe even claims to know why people are cynical... The phrase ‘We get that’ may or may not have yet reached its full dynamism. Once we make the claim ‘We get that’, that claim sits there asking a question – do we get that? Do we understand the full ramifications and reasons for cynicism? By saying ‘We get that’, we’ve signed up to something – and that something will linger there with potentiality – a deconstructive event – niggling away with its question.
Next comes the notion of hope... and with it the Christian/deconstructive idea of hoping against hope. Is the thing possible? Maybe the thing is impossible. We hope for the impossible even if it appears ardently impossible. Things like resurrection.
In this case, the hope is for the world to see the church as less than what we often tried to portray. Or is it more than? It’s hoping for humility – a deconstructive turn that undermines status, and the strange dynamic of the least being greatest and the greatest least.
The death of Christ on the cross is a deep event of deconstruction – all the texts get shaken. The letter signs up for this kind of deconstruction – mapping the shape of the cross onto us and our rights and privileges – calling them into question and asking us to give them up as gift, or relinquishment, or recompense, or contrition – ‘even “our” land [sparking away in the post-colonial context of Aotearoa New Zealand] and money’ ... ‘empty ourselves’. ‘We hope you will see us look more like Jesus...’ Be careful, warns the deconstructive turn, what you hope for!
We cannot help then scrolling down to see the literal signatories of the letter – those who have put their names to it and signed up to these niggling little/cataclysmic notions. (As histories go, its hard not to notice connections there with past and present systems of power.) Godspeed you.
And thus the deconstructive turn (a shaking) waits its moment, bides its time. It really all can be for the best. Maybe you can even feel a little glimmer of potentiality here – what might emerge. A world in which something like the Sermon on the Mount comes into its own. Hope. ‘Resurrection power’.
If you want to delve a bit deeper into this kind of stuff, I highly recommend Caputo’s book. Some of the contemporary cultural references are now a bit dated. But excellent, enjoyable, poignant, confronting.
* Since writing this, I listened to an episode (N320) of the Nomad podcast in which David Hayward (aka The Naked Pastor) claimed to be the originator of the use of the word 'deconstruction' as it pertains to the life event / faith journey. Whether or not he did in fact have primacy in this, or he was simply voicing a zeitgeist that was emerging in multiple places at the time, the size of his platform certainly would have helped popularise the term in this way. Regardless, the point remains: he says he was reading the French philosophers at the time he made this connection from philosophy to life event / faith journey.