Category: economics

Original boredom and solving our financial crisis

While I have not posted on Either / Or the experience of volume 1 for a second go round is better than I expected.  The problem is that it is a ‘popular’ work and so also a dated work.  Can you imagine reading Zizek’s works over 100 years from now trying to piece together the pop-culture illusions?  Either / Or is not that extreme though I am certainly feeling its distance.  One of the pieces is volume 1 begins with a reflection on boredom as the root of evil.  And because of this seeks to eliminate its evil presence.  He takes finance as an example.  Imagine trying to improve the economy by practicing economics!?  How utterly boring and therefore sinful.

The history of this [evil] can be traced from the very beginning of the world.  The gods were bored, and so they created man.  Adam was bored because he was alone, and so Eve was created.  Thus boredom entered the world, and increased in proportion to the increase of population.  Adam was bored alone; then Adam and Eve were bored togethre; then Adam and Eve and Cain and Abel were bored en famille; then the population of the world increased, and the peoples were bored en masse.  To divert themselves they conceived the idea of constructing a tower high enough to reach the heavens.  This idea is itself as boring as the tower was high, and constitutes a terrible proof of how boredom gained the upper hand.  The nations were scattered over the earth, just as people now travel abroad, but they continued to be bored.  Consider the consequences of this boredom.  Humanity fell from its lofty height, first because of Eve, and then from the Tower of Babel.  What was it, on the other hand, that delayed the fall of Rome, was it not bread and circuses?  And is anything to be done now?  Is anyone concerned about planning some means of diversion?  Quite the contrary, the impending ruin is being accelerated.  It is proposed to improve the financial condition of the state by practicing economy.  What could be more tiresome?  Instead of increasing the national debt, it is proposed to pay it off.  As I understand the political situation, it would be an easy matter for Denmark to negotiate a loan of fifteen million dollars.  Why not consider this plan?  Every once in a while we hear of a man who is a genius, and therefore neglects to pay his debts – why should not a nation do the same, if we were all agreed?  Let us then borrow fifteen millions, and let us the proceeds, not to pay debts, but for public entertainment.  Let us celebrate the millennium in a riot of merriment.  Let us place boxes everywhere, not, as at present, for the deposit of money, but for the free distribution of money.  Everything would become gratis; theaters gratis, women of easy virtue gratis, one would drive to the park gratis, be buried gratis, one’s eulogy would be gratis; I say gratis, for when one always has money at hand, everything is in a certain sense free.  No one should be permitted to own any property.  Only in my own case would there be an exception.  I reserve to myself securities in the Bank of London to the value of one hundred dollars a day, partly because I cannot do with less, partly because the idea is mine, and finally because I may not be able to hit upon a new idea when the fifteen millions are gone.

The mockery of careful planning

I have always been a little uneasy with Jesus’ parable of ‘planning’ (Luke 14:28-31).  Jesus asks whether the people would not plan ahead of time to make sure they had sufficient materials to complete a tower and sufficient soldiers for victory.  The ‘moral of story’ as I have received it is that of the wise stewardship of resources.  I could not quite put my finger on why this bugged me other than the fact that it seemed to propagate good, bland suburbanites.  I’m not sure why I didn’t see it but the two images obviously have strong connections to the Old Testament in the Tower of Babel and David’s census taking.  Both of these acts reflect careful planning.  They are also both sins.  Who has the materials to finish building a tower? The answer is no one,  because a tower is never finished.  Who has the man-power to win a war? The answer is no one, because a war is never over.

The parable drives this home in a way that should have made it clear.  The parable  is book-ended first by the command that one cannot follow if they do not first hate their family. And at the end of the parable Jesus offers a re-articulation that states that you cannot become a disciple if you do not give up all your possessions (i.e. ending the production of tower-building and war-making).  The internal space of these commands is the mockery of ‘careful planning’.

I am a feel good story; Or, What would Zizek do?

Yesterday I swung by the University of Winnipeg to pick up a copy of Zizek’s The Parallax View.  On my way back to the car I noticed a flash of colour standing out against the dirty white snow on the curb.  Lying there, as though nestled on some heavenly cloud was a bundle of cash.  There before me lay $1oo dollars staring up at me with no indication of ownership.  I suddenly found myself in some sort of poorly contrived morality sketch.  What should I do?  Some of thoughts that ran through my head;

  1. Write a note with my contact information where I found the money so that the person could tell me the amount and denomination.
  2. Donate it to some worthy cause.
  3. Go back into the University and donate it to the hippies with a booth promoting sustainable agriculture.
  4. Leave it in the snow bank.
  5. Keep it.

I waited for a few moments in the car to see if anyone was frantically running around.  I did not like any of my responses.  1-3 seemed like some ‘noble’ redemption of this sullied money . . . no good.  5 just felt wrong and right at the same time.  4 may have actually be the best option because I felt that certainly no one else would give such thoughtful consideration to finding money as I will and they would proceed immediately to 5.  In the end I decided to go in the nearest building which was the athletic building.  I went up to the front desk and told the girl what I found.  Recognizing the torn envelope she responded, “That must be Tim’s . . . I mean that was what Tim was supposed to deposit” as she pointed to their deposit box.  Hey, if she lied, good on her for the presence of mind.  In any event, as I was leaving I heard her say, “You’re so honest.”  Ahhhh, I slept well that night.

So money implies dishonesty.  As soon as money is detached from any recognizable or enforceable relationship immediate ownership upon discovery is assumed.  And why not?  Money shows no allegiance.  It does not bear the marks of enduring long-term relationship.  It is built for pure mobility.  I have to say that I am glad it seemed to return the place where it would cause some undergrad the least amount of grief.  But I can’t help but think . . . what would Zizek do?

Christ, Who Fills Everything in Every Way

This past Sunday I preached on Ephesians 4:4-16.  I wanted to draw attention to two themes in the book.  First is the abundance of language about abundance.  Believers are filled with riches, power and wealth.  Second, this is set within the context of the body of Christ which (who) fills all things.  A broad theme in my recent reading is on the notion of capitalism as that body which currently (and rapidly) seeks to fill everything.  From last Sunday’s sermon,

The basis of economic growth is of course to make more money.  This requires more resources to make products and more markets in which to sell them, and ideally cheaper labour by which to make the products.  Consider how coorporations scour the entire globe in search of resources and labour.  Consider the manner in which resources that arguably should be public are increasingly coming under the umbrella of private coorporations.  The issue of access to water comes readily to mind; the patenting of seeds for agriculture is another.  Think of ever expanding marketing we face.  Children are marketed, lifestyles are marketed, environmentalism is marketed, health and beauty, relationships, status; the list could go on forever.  The public space for gathering is now the food court surrounded by the constant refrain of the mall to consume.  High-interest money-lenders are popping up everywhere taking more money (and security) than they will ever give.  The market of money knows no limit to its desire to bring everything under its control.

Borrowing heavily from Philip Goodchild I then went on talk about how the financial crisis exposes both the power and the fragility of contemporary capitalism.  Even governments submit to its whims.  Though the ‘limits’ of contemporary capitalism are also becoming more apparent (increase in material costs).  In this way capitalism forms a mocking portrayal of an expanding and universal body which we participate in.

Also, borrowing heavily on Goodchild, I turned to the role of attention as a primary indicator of piety (whether ‘secular’ piety of religious).  To what then does the body of Christ call our attention to?  Here I returned to the Ephesians text and drew attention to what had seemed like a strange insertion for me.

[E]ach of us was given grace according to the measure of Christ’s gift. Therefore it is said, “When he ascended on high he made captivity itself a captive; he gave gifts to his people.”  (When it says, “He ascended,” what does it mean but that he had also descended into the lower regions of the earth? He who descended is the same one who ascended far above all the heavens, so that he might fill all things.) Eph 4:7-10

Here I drew attention to Christ’s descent.  The primary movement for the body of Christ is one of descent.  It is after this movement that ascension occurs, captivity is held captive and gifts are released.  Therefore our attention is turned to the descent.  I described this as attention to suffering and vulnerability.

This is the paradox of the body of Christ.  That in turning our attention to the vulnerability and suffering within and around us we enter in the joy of God’s grace; in feeling bound and helpless by the scope of suffering Christ binds bondage and frees us with his gifts of grace.  We are called to draw near to that strange place where we face each other, where crying and laughing become almost indistinguishable. [I thought of the description of the Cairo protests as by one participant as a ‘wedding feast’]

I had a relatively strong reaction to this sermon both positive and negative.  I ran into one group after the service vigorously discussing the implications of the sermon.  I also ran into other individuals who felt that the message was too ambiguous and loosely connected.  This sermon was part of a small series on ‘lay’ leadership.  In this way I suppose I could (or should) have been a little more ‘practical’.  However, I could not shake the notion that practicality in the church has typically meant ‘plugging into’ existing programs that are often ‘unplugged’ from pressing issues.  While the Mennonite church may have a slightly better track-record in this regard my hope is that ‘abstract’ sermons like this one can eventually build a new framework for church expression.

A Faithful Life?

I notice a tension between a substantive conception or articulation of a faithful life on the one hand and its entirely contextual and unexpressable nature on the other.  The notion of the substantial reality of faith is most often employed as a negative presence.  This is why my life is not faithful.  The most common refrain being that I live in the midst of and am embedded in powers and principalities that benefit the few at the cost of the many.  In Yoderian language I cannot say that I live independently of these powers.  Therefore my life is not faithful. But I can look to the ungraspable notion of grace and hope in apocalyptic action (of which I seek and participate).  So maybe my life is not faithful but God is faithful.  I am internally in contradiction.  I live in tension.  I would argue, though, that this tension is not a creative dialectic but a binding and entangling cord.  It is only a negativity.  Perhaps a negativity that will serve a purpose or has a place but it is a negativity nonetheless.

I think of a family I know.  She works and receives an increasingly rare middle-class salary.  They have bought a modest house in a ‘bad’ but developing neighbourhood.  He suffers from mental illness and requires stability but is still unable to work.  They have a young girl who he cares for.  This is not a dramatic home (well I cannot attest for everything that goes on there) but also not an easy life.  They discuss and strive for faithful choices in daily life.  I would characterize this house as faithful in the sense that Jean Vanier speaks of when he refers to enough stability for healing and growth and enough chaos and uncertainty to keep life open.

My life is not much different.  But I struggle some days even to conceive of their life as faithful never mind my own.  Negativity can always appeal to a lower (or higher) denominator.  This is binding, indebting and imprisoning.  It is not Gospel.  But I don’t know another way forward.  Is this process I am in necessary . . . is it helpful?  What would freedom mean?  Can I enact that freedom (who will rescue me from this body of death . . . )

Am I stuck in morality?  Do I need to move beyond good and evil as they say?  There is not enough nuance in the world to account for its complexity, at least in terms of possibility.  Who then is the righteous fool?  Who is the faithful one?

On My Arc Away From Liturgy

I left an annoying comment on Tony’s recent post about liturgy.  His post briefly explores the possibility of the Church Year as offering the foundation for an ‘irregular dogmatics’.  My comment was simply stating that I wish I could comment because at present the notion and validity of the Church Year and its structural liturgy is, at present, in upheaval.  I thought I might try and trace my thought trajectory so that I can see where it might be heading.

As I alluded to my last post I have been preaching Romans for Advent.  Paul, having little to say about the historical Jesus at the best of times, has no Christmas story.  There appears to be no value in recounting Jesus’s birth for the sake of churches he worked with.  This led to a sort of paradigm shift which began to view liturgical practices not so much as rhythms of resistance but as abstractions displacing what should be existentially integrated (did that make sense?).  So we set baby Jesus outside of us as opposed to attending to the blood, shit and pain that comes with childbirth.

This thinking was further crystallized by a comment Chris Rodkey made on a somewhat unrelated post at AUFS.  He states,

One thing I have been thinking about as I am constructing an outline for a collaborative project a colleague and I are gearing up to write together is Jacob Taubes’ critique of Christianity in his book Occidental Eschatology. Essentially my appropriation is this: The liturgical calendar and liturgical time prevents any sense of Parousia. [emphasis mine]

Perhaps I could be convinced that present liturgies are simply parodies but it hardly makes a difference.  The point is the manner in which our lives are presently and existentially engaged.  As it turns out Dan seemed to push my thinking even further with his recent post.  He writes,

This is the season of Advent and some of my friends are writing pretty words about this time of waiting, hope, anticipation and proleptic action.  They are saying the sort of thing I used to say not too long ago.  As for me, I am tired of waiting and tired of being a good little fellow and “waiting well.”  With all due respect to my friends, I say fuck that noise.  If there is a God out there, and that God is lingering, deciding to postpone an intervention, then I think the only way to wait is to act as if God is not coming or to try and force the coming of God.  Instead of finding ways to make our peace with our godforsakenness we should absolutely refuse to accept it.  Anything is better than that acceptance.  Better to risk everything on the wager that God cares enough to intervene (although that usually doesn’t work out well) than to sit back and make peace with this.  Better to spit at the back of God if that is what will bring God to act.  Besides, it is actions like these, and only actions like these, that actually take God seriously.  Anything else in the context of abandonment is either a pale imitation of worship or idolatry.

I am not quite sure how to take this.  At present I read it as a Psalm which is fully truthful if not entirely complete (is that an insult Dan?).  This leads me to my present reading in Philip Goodchild’s Capitalism and Religion.  Goodchild looks at Henri Bergson’s work on time and freedom.  Bergson critiques ‘measured’ or ‘counted’ time.  Goodchild writes,

For synchronization to occur, real time must be replaced by an abstraction which has eliminated the essential quality of time – change.  Measurable, homogeneous time is an abstraction where nothing takes place.  In countable time, the living is measured in so far as it conforms to the behaviour of inanimate clocks. (105)

In brief, the representation of reality in both science and metaphysics is a commodification, replacing the thing with a quantifiable symbol fashioned for the purpose of exchange.

Bergson’s alternative is to place reason within the temporal process itself. . . . The experience of thinking replaces the object of thought.  Freedom must be encountered in the experience of thinking before it can become the object of thought. (107)

The question this raises is the extent to which liturgical practices actually undermine, overthrow or replace dominant social modes (empire, capitalism, etc.).  Or do they simply fall prey the near omnipotent work of commodification?  Does a flash mob singing the hallelujah chorus in a food court do anything more than make people feel good about their shopping experience?  Even the cultural liturgist Jaime Smith thinks not (I have not read his Desiring the Kingdom). (I also can’t help but cringe at Winnipeg’s attempt to piggy-back on this . . . apparently the press was there waiting for it ‘to happen’)

So that is a bit of the arch.  I still retain theological convictions of doxology as a sort of foundation for practice but as for present form of church liturgy I am becoming increasingly dissatisfied.  The issue remains the extent to which the acts and the structures produce abstractions or commodities that keep one from encountering and entering into the Gospel.  What is my alternative?  At present it is little more than an increasingly social form of (or socially aware) existentialism.  Or to be more naive . . . a biblical faith.  Hopefully, more to come.

Romans 13 – An Agambenian Reading

Romans 13 has long been a thorn in my Anabaptist side.  Yoder of course went a long way in clarifying the distinction between being subject to those in authority and actually obeying those in authority.  That reading however still left me with many unanswered questions as to what Paul is calling the church towards.  In preparation for the Romans readings of this season of Advent I reread Giorgio Agamben’s The Time that Remains.  In this reading the notion of messianic time functioning as “the time of bringing time to an end” became more clear and relevant as I was reading through Romans alongside his work.  I interpret the structure of the world’s authority as functioning as a sort of limit to the mode in which humanity lives apart from the Spirit.  As such the kingdom of the world is and will be coming to an end.  This becomes significant for reading Romans 13.  What struck me was the simple Greek structure of verse 7
ἀπόδοτε πᾶσιν τὰς ὀφειλάς,
τῷ τὸν φόρον τὸν φόρον,
τῷ τὸ τέλος τὸ τέλος,
τῷ τὸν φόβον τὸν φόβον,
τῷ τὴν τιμὴν τὴν τιμήν.
Pay back every debt
for tax, tax
for revenue, revenue
for fear, fear
for respect, respect
Then Paul adds significantly in verse 8,
Μηδενὶ μηδὲν ὀφείλετε
Be in indebted to no one for anything (I can’t comment on the double-negative in Greek here; I suspect it is common)
The process of relating to earthly authorities is that of closing down their economy, of divesting yourself of its structure (which is different than escaping it).  The work then is not of revolt (necessarily) which is why this passage can be confused for quietism but rather that of rendering it inoperative an important Pauline term that Agamben stresses.  I read this in light of Kierkegaard’s commentary on Paul’s And having overcome all, to stand.  Much of our effort exists directly in relationship to opposition.  Opposition in many cases is absolutely necessary for the existence of our work.  I need the machine to rage against it.  This is a reductionist characterization to be sure but I can’t help think of how many movements will simply fall down when the powers are removed from their pushing.  In any even I take Paul to be doing something different than direct revolt.  This does not necessarily clarify what we should then do with this reading but it demands that we not acquiesce to earthly authority but that we are continually in the active process of liberating ourselves and others from indebtedness.
To the extent that you are invested in this world whether tax, debt, fear or honour pay it back in kind so that all that remains in practice is the opening of love and not the foreclosure of debt.  The work of this ‘flesh’ will continually be present in a humanly inescapable manner (who will rescue me from this body of death).  We become though tools of light which cut through and create a division within the divisions of this world that constantly undermine and deactivate them.  This is all exegetical rhetoric at this point.  I have no idea what sort of tool I will function as what it demands though is that no position within world renders spiritual impossible.  No system is dominant that it can, by its force, reclaim the new creation of the Messiah.  This problematizes the typical leftist project as I would see it which continually stresses system as that which binds and liberates (though it does that at a certain level).  I read this text and larger Pauline theology (in light of Agamben) as one which always supposes the freedom of the individual so that she might work within the place of her calling (and in communion with the saints) dividing the divisions and use this time for bringing time to an end.

Memorial Friday; Or, Black Friday of Death

In remembrance of the young man trampled to death opening the doors to a Wal-Mart during Black Friday 2008.

Listen to the crazy rhetoric of this piece.  There are a tonne of soundbites worth dissecting.  Look at the repetitious shots of the ‘gang’ of young black men standing around outside by the police cruiser.

Police were knocked over trying to give CPR to the man

The store reopened for shopping by noon

The cause of death was apparently ‘unclear’ at that point


A Call for Theo-political Readings

I was sent a link to the following youtube video.  The Messiah continues to strike me as an overwhelmingly political statement and given the context and players involved in this video I started feeling great dissonance.  Was the kingdom of this world becoming the kingdom of our Lord and of his Christ through irruptive means?  Was the kingdom of Lord and of his Christ reified as a free toy for your food court meal?  I welcome readings to clear the dissonant and disturbing sounds still ringing my ears.