Violence, Hospitality, and the Cross (VHC), ch. 1
Here is a summary of chapter 1 of Boersma's VHC. After a summary, I will give my thoughts. Feel free to comment or ask questions. Remember Boersma's def'n of violence (any force or coercion, either physical or non-physical, that causes injury or harm) when reading.
"Hospitality is not only or even primarily a human virtue, but it is a virtue that has a divine origin; it is a divine virtue" (27). This is Boersma's beginning point. He then asks whether or not divine hospitality is without violence. What is the relationship between hospitality and violence as shown on the cross? "Is the violence of exclusion a necessary counterpart to the practice of hospitality?" (28).
He begins with a critique of postmodernism's call for pure hospitality, especially in the work of Emmanuel Levinas and Jacques Derrida. Levinas says that the 'otherness' of the other puts me (or you) in his/her indebtedness automatically. Openness and hospitality is the necessary posture, regardless of the otherness of the individual. Derrida says that hospitality must have an eschatological bent. He rejects determinate (read: specific) 'Messianisms,' but says that hospitality, if it is to be absolute, must be ignorant (unplanned) and future oriented. However, these two conditions--no planning and no horizon on which it can be attained (say, e.g., at the eschaton) make it an unrealizable hospitality (29-30). Boersma says that Derrida, along with Levinas, believes that "pure hospitality means that I forego all judging, analyzing, and classification of the other" (30, emphasis mine). Against this notion of pure hospitality, Boersma mentions Kant's "universal hospitaliy," which says that the other must "behave peaceably in another's country," and that he does not have the right to stay" (31).
Since Derrida believes in pure hospitality, anything less than this is not truly hospitality at all. Boersma, instead, says it is better to see hospitality as happening in better or worse ways in the limited creation, while remaining hospitality (32). Since pure hospitality is not attainable for Derrida, violence becomes inscribed on the very heart of creation. So, Derrida is left in an existential angst (my words): he sees violence as fundamental, but its solution (pure hospitality), by definition, without horizon. All one can hope for is complete openness to the other--even if that other is a devil. This openness, says Boersma, creates violence rather than diminish it (35).
Is there another way, then? What of divine hospitality that seems tainted with violence in the cross? (Boersma, which we shall see, sees all three main atonement theories--moral influence, penal substitution (in which he considers satisfaction theories), and Christus Victor--as involved with violence in some fashion.) The first issue in seeing a new way is not making evil parallel to violence. Defining violence as "any use of force or coercion that involves some kind of hurt or injury--whether...physical or non-physical--is a form of violence" (47) includes acts in parenting, judicial rulings, or giving a bad grade on an exam as violence. By this def'n, violence need not be evil; in fact, as in the Augustinian tradition, it can be an act of love (48). Boersma then draws together the insight of Levinas and Derrida, that violence is necessarily associated with hospitality (even if such hospitality is not "pure", but "narcissistic"), with the insight of the atonement tradition that divine hospitality is even associated, necessarily!, with violence. Just as hospitality requires violence, Boersma says that love requires wrath. "Love...requires passionate anger toward anything that would endanger the relationship of love" (49). But (as chapter 2 will address) violence is not part of the divine essence but "is merely one of the ways to safeguard...the future of [God's] hospitality when dealing with...life" (49). This violence, employed by God, leads to the eschatological, nonviolent, just kingdom of God, where it is unnecessary. This kingdom is pure hospitality. We take our cues by looking and emulating as best we can pure hospitality, understanding it to be eschatological and not forsaking hospitality because it cannot be pure. Rather, we imitate in limited ways--which, at times, are violent (50-51).
I think Boersma has insightful critiques of postmodern philosophy, while using their categories (pure hospitality, deconstructed justice) to explain the Christian notion of God's kingdom. I further appreciate his realism which takes seriously the human condition of selfishness, but emphasizes that this attitude does not remove one from the hook that demands emulation of Jesus Christ. Our (violent) shortcomings in being hospitable do not leave us without responsibility, but simply demand humility and prayerful anticipation of the eschaton.
Especially insightful is his critique of Derrida's unrealizable "pure hospitality." Think about it: if pure hospitality requires complete openness to the other, which even demands unawareness of the other's arrival, then any preparation for guests means that it is frought with personal bias--and is therefore not solely about the other and becomes even more greatly "hospitable narcissism." Paradoxically, the acts which most would consider hospitality in its best form (preparing for a guest by buying their favourite food, cleaning linens, etc.) actually render the host less hospitable!
I disagree with Boersma, however, in his belief that wrath is God's response when his love is rejected (49). Wrath does safeguard those in God's family (see 1 Cor. 3--God will destroy those whom seek to destroy the body of believers), but wouldn't sorrow better describe God's attitude toward those who reject his gracious call? Boersma draws anger too closely to the nature of God here. Wrath is the flip-side of love, but not the next logical step in God's attitude toward non-believers.
Thoughts? Questions? Appreciations? Disagreements?
"Hospitality is not only or even primarily a human virtue, but it is a virtue that has a divine origin; it is a divine virtue" (27). This is Boersma's beginning point. He then asks whether or not divine hospitality is without violence. What is the relationship between hospitality and violence as shown on the cross? "Is the violence of exclusion a necessary counterpart to the practice of hospitality?" (28).
He begins with a critique of postmodernism's call for pure hospitality, especially in the work of Emmanuel Levinas and Jacques Derrida. Levinas says that the 'otherness' of the other puts me (or you) in his/her indebtedness automatically. Openness and hospitality is the necessary posture, regardless of the otherness of the individual. Derrida says that hospitality must have an eschatological bent. He rejects determinate (read: specific) 'Messianisms,' but says that hospitality, if it is to be absolute, must be ignorant (unplanned) and future oriented. However, these two conditions--no planning and no horizon on which it can be attained (say, e.g., at the eschaton) make it an unrealizable hospitality (29-30). Boersma says that Derrida, along with Levinas, believes that "pure hospitality means that I forego all judging, analyzing, and classification of the other" (30, emphasis mine). Against this notion of pure hospitality, Boersma mentions Kant's "universal hospitaliy," which says that the other must "behave peaceably in another's country," and that he does not have the right to stay" (31).
Since Derrida believes in pure hospitality, anything less than this is not truly hospitality at all. Boersma, instead, says it is better to see hospitality as happening in better or worse ways in the limited creation, while remaining hospitality (32). Since pure hospitality is not attainable for Derrida, violence becomes inscribed on the very heart of creation. So, Derrida is left in an existential angst (my words): he sees violence as fundamental, but its solution (pure hospitality), by definition, without horizon. All one can hope for is complete openness to the other--even if that other is a devil. This openness, says Boersma, creates violence rather than diminish it (35).
Is there another way, then? What of divine hospitality that seems tainted with violence in the cross? (Boersma, which we shall see, sees all three main atonement theories--moral influence, penal substitution (in which he considers satisfaction theories), and Christus Victor--as involved with violence in some fashion.) The first issue in seeing a new way is not making evil parallel to violence. Defining violence as "any use of force or coercion that involves some kind of hurt or injury--whether...physical or non-physical--is a form of violence" (47) includes acts in parenting, judicial rulings, or giving a bad grade on an exam as violence. By this def'n, violence need not be evil; in fact, as in the Augustinian tradition, it can be an act of love (48). Boersma then draws together the insight of Levinas and Derrida, that violence is necessarily associated with hospitality (even if such hospitality is not "pure", but "narcissistic"), with the insight of the atonement tradition that divine hospitality is even associated, necessarily!, with violence. Just as hospitality requires violence, Boersma says that love requires wrath. "Love...requires passionate anger toward anything that would endanger the relationship of love" (49). But (as chapter 2 will address) violence is not part of the divine essence but "is merely one of the ways to safeguard...the future of [God's] hospitality when dealing with...life" (49). This violence, employed by God, leads to the eschatological, nonviolent, just kingdom of God, where it is unnecessary. This kingdom is pure hospitality. We take our cues by looking and emulating as best we can pure hospitality, understanding it to be eschatological and not forsaking hospitality because it cannot be pure. Rather, we imitate in limited ways--which, at times, are violent (50-51).
I think Boersma has insightful critiques of postmodern philosophy, while using their categories (pure hospitality, deconstructed justice) to explain the Christian notion of God's kingdom. I further appreciate his realism which takes seriously the human condition of selfishness, but emphasizes that this attitude does not remove one from the hook that demands emulation of Jesus Christ. Our (violent) shortcomings in being hospitable do not leave us without responsibility, but simply demand humility and prayerful anticipation of the eschaton.
Especially insightful is his critique of Derrida's unrealizable "pure hospitality." Think about it: if pure hospitality requires complete openness to the other, which even demands unawareness of the other's arrival, then any preparation for guests means that it is frought with personal bias--and is therefore not solely about the other and becomes even more greatly "hospitable narcissism." Paradoxically, the acts which most would consider hospitality in its best form (preparing for a guest by buying their favourite food, cleaning linens, etc.) actually render the host less hospitable!
I disagree with Boersma, however, in his belief that wrath is God's response when his love is rejected (49). Wrath does safeguard those in God's family (see 1 Cor. 3--God will destroy those whom seek to destroy the body of believers), but wouldn't sorrow better describe God's attitude toward those who reject his gracious call? Boersma draws anger too closely to the nature of God here. Wrath is the flip-side of love, but not the next logical step in God's attitude toward non-believers.
Thoughts? Questions? Appreciations? Disagreements?
posted by Aaron Perry at
10:56 AM
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