Impro

I've been reading the work of Keith Johnstone, who I discovered at a conference on theatre history. In his book Impro, discussing education and the destructive effects it has on children, he writes the following:

"I began to think of children not as immature adults, but of adults as atrophied children" (25)

I could not help but think of Christ's injunction to be "converted" and "become as little children" in order to enter heaven (Matt. 18:3). To atrophy is to waste away, to decay. Christ asks us to de-atrophy, towork so that we might regenerate.


In order to perform in the world with anything approaching love we need to become like children again: full of wonder and humble. And that takes work; it takes effort to rebuild a decaying limb, and adulthood, education, maturation, is often the result of decay.

Assumptions; Methodology

So, every critical perspective is founded on certain assumptions. What would those be for a Christ-ist Critical theory?


Moreover, what would a Christ-ist methodology look like?

Christ’s philosophy (if we were to look at him as a philosopher, and why not?)[1] must be taken as separate from (but fundamental to) the various teachings, philosophies, “doctrines,” and organizations that have grown up from that initial set of teachings.

A Christ-centered critical methodology. . .what would that look like? What would it entail?

What would the Christian (or Christ-ic?) Critical Lens consist of?

Would it need to be unbiased toward any particular denomination? Might it inadvertently legitimize some over others?  

It would clearly need to be founded in the words of Christ as they have come to us in the Gospels--perhaps not even preferring the four "canonical" Gospels over apocryphal works, since the canonical Gospels are only canonical because a particular Christian organization at a particular time decided they should be canonical and that the others shouldn't be and what gives them the right, really? (Of course, in the same vein, if a particular audience REFUSED to accept a Christ-centered critical theorist because he or she was influenced by apocryphal works that would be the audience's right. . .HOWEVER, it really shouldn't matter since the ESSENCE of Christ's message is, I would argue, pretty fairly uniform across those gospels that claim to quote from him).[2]

My point here is that, before all other considerations, a Christ-centered methodology--a Christ-ic Critical Lens--would need to built out of the ideas expressed and expounded upon by Jesus, himself, and then that lens would be used to look at other things and try to understand them through it.  For example, if we were to compare Christ’s ideas to the Communist Manifesto and the ideas of Marx (the foundation of modern critical theory)—where Marxists see all problems as arising from class struggle, I would argue that Christ saw all problems in the world arising from “imperfections” within individuals themselves. 

These two lenses, then, provide very different jumping off points and will lead us to very different conclusions about justice and suffering and how such things should be addressed politically or artistically. 

Politics, from a Christ-ic perspective, is not the problem of power struggles between different groups (classes) vying for freedom or control; rather, political problems arise from human failures to be “perfect”—or complete—in their inner, spiritual life. Humans refuse to be "poor in spirit," they refuse to be "mourn," they refuse to be "meek;" they hunger and thirst after their own self-interests rather than hungering and thirsting after "righteousness;" they are not "merciful," they are not "pure in heart," they are not "peacemakers." Our suffering, from this perspective, has nothing to with the "ownership of the means of production" (although, one could argue, ideology is certainly part of the problem), and the "dictatorship of the proletariat" certainly won't salve anything because it doesn't address the root cause of evil: human imperfection. "The glorious revolution" (as history attests), would merely replace one hegemonic tyranny with another (technically, Kenneth Burke, a dyed-in-the-wool Communist, warned the American Communist party about just this, but they reprimanded him, and he shut up; of course, Burke's own critical theory pointed to an entirely different cause of conflict, arguing that conflict originates in language itself, and humans, as the "symbol-using" and "symbol-abusing" animal were bound to create systems of conflict and injustice because we use language; again, here we have another lens through which we might look, but the Christ-ic Critical Lens would not draw us towards language, but deeper into the soul, with language being a reflection of what was going on inside). 

Conflict in the world, then, from a Christ-centered perspective, will not cease simply by a redistribution of wealth and power because misuse of wealth and power themselves are consequences of humanity's imperfect state. Until all men and women become complete—or, at least, recognize that they are incomplete and agree to work towards completion--until humans individually become "converted" (transformed) from their "imperfect" state into a humble, submissive, loving state (Matt. 18:3), there will never be an end to political and class strife, regardless of how wealth is distributed, what political theory is in play, and how power is shared. Poverty, inequality, oppression: these are the result of human imperfection (and not just imperfection on the part of the rich), and will only end when a community is made up of perfected beings. 

[Such a thing seems impossible, its impossibility is no more a hindrance to its implementation than is the impossibility of fulfilling any other political/social/moral ideal. Republics, democracies, socialist and communist states, capitalisms, monarchies, social movements, critical theories: all of these are based on seemingly impossible ideals that are characterized as plausible by their proponents. Paul Woodruff, in his book First Democracy, articulates it thus: "I concede that a vision of democracy is not realistic, because it cannot be put fully into practice. But it is practical nonetheless, because" democracy as an ideal "can guide us towards reform or, at least, it can keep us from circling back. We can follow the North Star, travelling north, with no hope of reaching the star itself. But we do need to know the difference between the North Star and all the other bright lights twinkling overhead" (18). This, I would suggest is especially true for Christians seeking to embody a Christ-centered view of life; there are so many man-made lights out there, after all.]

Christianity, in that respect, is no different from any other conceptual ideal; it merely defines the locus of responsibility differently and systematizes progress towards that ideal somewhat differently. 

Of course, material circumstances and political philosophies per se become less important to a Christ-centered critical theory than the inner lives of those living with political philosophies. This, I think, is what makes a Christ-centered critical theory so full of potential and possibility, as well as difficulty in implementation. Judgment, in a Christ-centered critical theory, must be turned inward, towards one's own soul; a person’s primary desire must be to perfect the inward being, a process which is then reflected in (and, I would add, influenced by) outward actions—be-haviors. However, critical theory is an outward-facing exercise: it looks at things through a lens of critical observation and develops opinions based on what it sees, and based on how what one sees conforms to the ideals which concave the lens. 

This is a very difficult conundrum for a practitioner of critical theory. A critic wants to find what is wrong with the WORLD and fix it. Christ, however, taught people to see what was wrong with THEMSELVES, commanded them to fix that, and then told them to go out into the world and work in the world as new and improved creatures. Such a converted or transformed individual is to be "the salt of the earth" and a "light unto the world." They are supposed to make things better by BEING better themselves. 

The paradox of Christ's teaching is that the concerns of this “temporal” world—the concerns of the body and of existing in the body in time—are simultaneously necessary and unnecessary to the perfection of the soul in equal amounts, and that the perfection of the soul and the perfection of the community are intimately connected. Unlike a Marxism or a feminism, for example, a Christ-centered person can become perfected no matter what his or her temporal circumstances. BUT it is only through perfect actions within temporal circumstances, and through interaction with others in those temporal circumstances, that inner perfection can be achieved. 

Consider “The Widow’s Mite;” compare it to “The Rich Young Man.” These suggest that a poor person and a rich person can become equally perfect, but only in the same way: by dedicating their actions and their temporal resources—whatever those resources may be—wholly to the service of God and others. They must put off self-interest and become wholly dedicated to the interests of others.

With such a worldview, the Christian must be constantly on the look-out for where he or she can be of "service" to others, must be looking for those whom he or she can serve. This type of watching requires a critical eye--

But is it the critical eye of the critical theorist? 

I am not saying that a Christ-centered critical theory should ignore the realities of injustice that exist between the “classes” or in political systems merely because Christ’s teachings do not, as Abrams claims in Natural Supernaturalism, transfer “the locus of the primary concern with evil from the providential history of mankind to the providential history of the individual self,” thus “justify[ing] the experience of wrongdoing, suffering, and loss as a necessary means toward the greater good of personal redemption” (95). Christ merely insists that the evils of history cannot stop a person determined to find perfection and peace from finding it, and that if we want universal perfection and peace, it must begin within individuals, not within systems (Luke 17:21--"the kingdom of God is within you").

Indeed, Christ spoke often against the injustices perpetrated within his current system: the misuse of the Korban rule (Mark 7:9-13); let he who is without sin cast the first stone (John 8:7); my Father’s house is a house of prayer but you have turned it into a house of merchandise (John 2:16; Luke 19:46; Matt. 21:13); he also told people, however, to work towards perfection regardless of the system of injustice they were forced to live under: render unto Caesar (Matt. 22:21); respect the scribes and priests but do not emulate their actions (Matt. 23:2-5); go thy way and sin no more (John 5:14; 8:11). 

The summum bonnum of all of this: "My kingdom is not of this world" (John 18:36) and so we must be in the the (material) world but not of the (material) world (John 15:19; see also 1 John 2:15-17 and Romans 12:2).  

Personal perfection was seen as a more important "fix" than fixing the system--indeed, its is seen as the ultimate and only way to actually fix the system!

Perhaps this is because:

1.) personal perfection is a manageable goal since the self is something an individual has influence over

2.) systems can only be changed by people, and if those people changing the system aren’t focused themselves on moving towards moral perfection, you’ll just wind up with another system where imperfect people exploit the system, exploit others, and injustice ultimately reigns. 

Moreover, the only thing one really has any influence over is one's self--and when you get many selfs who are working towards perfection, and who see working towards perfection as something that must be carried out in one's day-to-day walk (and talk) in the world, then these individuals will naturally be working together to "convert" their society from an imperfect to a perfect one. 

And they will be doing so by exercising "right action" in the temporal world (sorry, Buddha; borrowing your phrase here). Such people cannot help but "convert" that society, in time, because that change will happen as the natural result of the changed individuals who inhabit that society.  

I know, I know: how does one define "perfection?" How does one deal with those who refuse to "perfect" themselves? 

The classical questions concerning Utopias all pop into our heads. But they don't stop us from pursuing the democratic ideal; they didn't (and don't) stop socialists and communists and free-market capitalists from pursuing their ideals.

Moreover, does the difficulty of obtaining Utopia mean that it is unattainable? Perhaps the Christ-ic Critical Lens is just what has been missing from these other pursuits of Utopia, that critical theory that focuses on the perfection of the human soul, so that socialism, or communism, or capitalism might actually have a chance. 

A good portion of the "scriptures" is dedicated to a discussion of just those complexities.

A good place to start (as I suggested above) is probably the Beatitudes (Matt. 5)--in fact, the entirety of the Sermon on the Mount (Matt. 5-7--even though I would argue that Christ's critical ideal is apparent throughout the body of his teachings).

Does this, though, bring us any closer to solving the conundrum for a critical theorist, like myself, who wants to exercise critical theory as an extension of the Christ ideal? 

Well, to put this methodology to use as an example case, I could do a Christ-ic reading of the Communist Manifesto.  

But that gets us into an actual application of a Christ-ic critical analysis, and I'm not sure I'm ready for that. I've only just begun to explore what a Christ-ic critical lens would be built out of; I have yet to really develop anything approaching a system that could be arguably called a "critical theory."

So application will have to wait.

 

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[1] This, of course, is where any Christ-centered critical theory gets tricky, anyway; for practically two-thousand years a battle has been raging over who owns Christ—as though he is merely a dead celebrity whose image and words can be used in advertising. This point will have to be expanded in an entry all its own at a later date.

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[2] One need not even necessarily believe that Jesus is the Son of God to see this. While I am not saying I think of him as merely a philosopher, along the lines of the Jesus Seminar, I still assert that those who do could still practice, and benefit intellectually and materially, from the findings of a Christ-ic criticism. Moreover, the teachings of Christ and the teaching sof those who claim to be his disciples are not necessarily one and the same (even though, clearly, the ideas of the latter are informed by the former); one is not obliged to view Christ's teachings through the lens of the two thousand years of doctrine/dogma that has developed from his teachings (though we cannot merely ignore it, either, anymore than a Marxist can effectively ignore Stalin or Castro).