God in Pain: Inversions of Apocalypse- Slavoj Zizek and Boris Gunjevic

Published 2012. Seven Stories Press, NY. 285 pages

In 2009, Marxist philosopher Slavoj Zizek and Radical Orthodox theologian John Milbank went toe to toe as they debated the emancipatory potential of Christianity in their book, The Monstrosity of Christ (which I have also reviewed here!). A few years later, in 2012, Zizek once again took up the cause for Hegelian dialectics as he collaborated with yet another RO theologian from Croatia, Boris Gunjević. In their book, God in Pain: Inversions of Apocalypse, Zizek and Gunjević challenge our base assumptions regarding the Abrahamic religions, utilizing thinkers from Augustine to Lacan in order to determine the role of religion in the 21st century, and whether these articulations of faith have the potential for constructing an emancipatory political vision.

Overview:

This book’s purpose can be seen as twofold: first as a deeper expansion of a public debate between Zizek and Gunkjevic, and second as a continuation of the themes originally set out by Milbank and Zizek in The Monstrosity of Christ. Through eight alternating essays (four for each author), Zizek and Gunkevic utilize psychoanalytic theory and theology to contemplate the usefulness of the Abrahamic religions for building an emancipatory political force. While the topics tackled in this book are often multifaceted, they contain a center as they revolve around the role of Christianity, Islam, Judaism, and the category of the sacred in Western Society, and what, if anything, they have to offer towards addressing the issues of post-modernity.

In the first chapter, Zizek argues that atheism, far from being a denial of God, is rather a Lacanian proclamation that God is Unconscious. Arguing against Dostoyevsky (if there were no God, then everything is permitted), Zizek instead argues that if God does indeed exist, then everything is prohibited. Through a fetishist disavowal of desire, this perverse form of Christianity abets the conditions for so much suffering in the world, from Catholic clergy sexual abuse to abortion clinic bombers. Christ’s sacrifice, through this reading, serves as a signifier of the impotence of the Big Other, reifying the radical contingency of the material world. Thus, Zizek argues, violence does not occur when there is too much contingency in the world, but rather when we try to eliminate such contingency (66).

Responding to Zizek, Gunjević agrees in the second chapter that religion can indeed be a source of brutal violence in the world. Yet, he argues, a true understanding of the ascetic life and of the discipline exemplified by St. Augustine’s City of God can serve as a source for revolutionary potential against the forces of global capitalism (101). In his own words, he argues that “a shared pilgrimage of the catholic community on earth is the only alternative to an imperial meta-narrative that can form the practice needed for the constitution of a political subject” (99). Gunjević advocates for a communal type of community, as he believes that virtue can only fully function when an entire community possesses it and practices it together. Such a community, Gunjević believes, is the only radical alternative to the current empire of global capitalism.

In chapters Three and Four, Zizek and Gunjević contemplate the nature of Islam. Zizek contemplates the role of women and Islam through the figures of Hagar and Kadija, ultimately arguing that Islam has the potential for an eruption of creative potential via the feminine subject. He writes, “therein resides the concelaed scandal of Islam: only a woman, the very embodiment of indiscernerability between truth and lie, can guarantee Truth. For this reason, she has to remain veiled.” Gunjević, on the other hand, analyzes the literary structure of the Qur’an, arguing that both Christian fundamentalists and Islamic liberals tend to perceive the Prophet Muhammhad incorrectly (141). Instead, he advocates a third way of reading the text, which integrates both the poetics of Sufi metaphysics (via Ibn Arabi, Rumi, and Attar) along with a materialist reading inspired by Alain Badiou (143). Utilizing Badiou’s reading of the Apostle Paul, Gunjević argues that it is “exceptionally important to read the Qur’an as a mystical text which, with it’s poetic-mystical insights, incorporates ecstatic discourse” (149). By reading the Qur’an in such a manner, Gunjević believes that we fight against the powers of Empire, as Empire doesn’t want us to get to know the Other that it deems the enemy.

Chapters Five and Six find themselves at the center of Zizek and Gunjević’s theological projects. Zizek begins by recounting the issue of theodicy: why is there suffering and trauma in a world with an omnibenevolent God? Discounting both the “sovereign plan” and “finite, limited God” arguments towards theodicy, Zizek offers a third way: that of a suffering God. Zizek writes, “God’s suffering implies that he is involved in history, affected by it, not just a transcendent Master pulling the strings from above: God’s suffering means that human history is not just a theater of shadows, but the place of a real struggle, the struggle in which the Absolute itself is involved and its fate is decided” (157). Repeating one of his central points in The Monstrosity of Christ, Zizek argues that, against Catholicism and Eastern Orthodoxy, Protestantism contains the most radical reading of Christ, where God, in the Incarnation “freely identified himself with his own shit, with the excremental real that is man - and it is only at this level that the properly Christian notion of divine love can be apprehended, as a love for the miserable excremental entity called ‘man’ (163). In the act of Crucifixion, we see the alienation of God from God itself, which allows us to identify our alienation from the Absolute with the Absolute’s own self-alienation. In other words, “I am in God in my very distance from him (175). Of course, in addition to this insight, Zizek also freestyles some insights into the comedic nature of Christianity, the problem of fundamentalism, and Western Buddhism as an ally to global capital. Gunjević, in response, advocates for the value of Radical Orthodoxy as an attempt at constructing an “alternate Protestantism” (196). He delves into the historical development of Radical Orthodoxy in England at the end of the 20th century, and emphasizes the work of Augustine and Aquinas as a foundation for truly emancipatory forms of political protest.

Finally, in the last two chapters, Zizek and Gunjević give some final thoughts on the political roles of Judaism and Christianity in history. Zizek again utilizes Hegelian dialectics to contemplate the distinction between not only between Christian teleology and Jewish Messianism but also the fundamental difference between humans and animals. Using insights from Nietzsche, Derrida, Freud, Chesterton, and Benjamin, Zizek emphasizes the abyssal, animal gaze of the Other. Zizek ultimately concludes by writing,

With regard to Christianity, instead of losing time probing into how it relates to Judaism, how it misunderstands the Old Testament by reading it as announcing the arrival of Christ...one should rather turn the perspective around and ‘extraneate’ Christianity itself, treat it as Christianity-in-becoming and focus on what a strange beast, what a scandalous monstrocity, Christ must have appeared to be in the eyes of the Jewish ideological establishment. (240)

Gunjević finishes up the book by giving an in-depth exegesis of the Gospel of Mark. He argues that Mark’s Gospel resembles more of a guerilla manifesto, as Jesus resists any political identification, creating an empty theopolitical space in which Mark then proceeds to deconstruct the concept of Messiah (242). Through the examination of several parables, Gunjević asserts that Mark’s Gospel “is bent on showing us that we will not encounter God’s presence in the Jerusalem Temple, but that God is, instead, encountered in the desert” (257), where all social bonds are broken down. In this carnivalistic and grotesque reading inspired by Bakhtin, Christianity becomes a source of radical politics, not only commenting on the conditions of ancient Israel, but also of our contemporary conditions of social injustice. The Gospel of Mark, Gunjević argues, unites the poor, destitute, and lowly in a common bond in Christ, which allows for communal organizing and protest against the conditions of global capital.

Commendations:

Although a committed atheist, Zizek still sees the revolutionary power of the Christian gospel, and it’s potential to address the crises of our postmodern society. Zizek, as usual, turns the concept of atheism on its head, arguing that not only must a proper Christian have the experience of atheism, but the proper atheist must also endure through the Christian experience. In Zizek’s view, the Crucifixion acts as the divine joke where God empties himself of all glory and dies, willingly taking on suffering in order to redeem the world. This Bakhtinian analysis emphasizes the carnivalistic nature of Christ, who positions himself outside of the boundaries of wealth and status, instead lifting up the meek and marginalized within society. Gunjević, in his own right, supports many of Zizek’s assertions, albeit from a distinctively Christian perspective.

This collaborative aspect of the book is one of the highlights, as each author strengthens one another in the debate. Unlike most other debates between atheists and theists, neither author attacks the other, but rather weave together their essays into a fairly coherent and intricate tapestry. Zizek, as usual, is bombastic and energetic in his writing, often provocating dominate modes of thought without discrimination. He turns many common “wisdom” on its head, which makes for many memorable moments (ie. fundamentalists are the ones who are least certain, atheists are more Christian than theists, etc). Although much of what he writes here can also be found in his other works, it seems that his theological project here is much more concise and focused. I find his arguments toward a materialist reading of Christianity to be of particular value to the Christian community, which often finds itself lost within Gnostic metaphysics. His contribution to Christian theology should not be ignored; despite his Marxist, Godless facade, he does seem to comprehend the ethical stance that lies within the revolutionary current of the Christian Gospel.

Gunjević also has many fantastic insights to contribute to this work. Masterfully translated from Croation by Ellen Elias Bursać, his essays have a particular punch to them when he utilizes Augustine and the Gospel of Mark to argue for an anti-capitalist stance. To be sure, Gunjević is much less provocative than Zizek, but his measured, careful exegesis of theological texts serves as a wonderful counterbalance to Zizek’s hype-meandering style. He brings classical Christian literature (such as Augustine, Aquinas, Dante, etc) into conversation with contemporary thinkers like Althusser, Badiou, and Milbank, which provides us with a unique chance to analyze the relationships between religion, politics, and continental philosophy. In this way, both Zizek and Gunjević come across as friendly sparring partners rather than sworn enemies. They are both unique and creative thinkers, and their works complement one another nicely.

Critique:

However, there are a few brief shortcomings with this work. First of all, if you’ve read some of Zizek’s earlier works that discuss Christianity (such as The Puppet and the Dwarf), then you’ll find several sections that are almost copied and pasted into these essays. Zizek has often been criticized for his meandering philosophical presentations. He is often non-linear in his thought, and bounces from topic to topic with dizzying speed, taking many digressions and rabbit-trails along the way. While this holds true for some parts of this work as well, I did find that God in Pain was much more focused and concise than many of his other works. While there are indeed deviations from the topic within Zizek’s essays, he never strays too radically far from the point and ties it all together by the end. Perhaps it’s the limitation of the form of the essay, but I think it does wonders to keep Zizek in topological check.

On the other hand, while Gunjević makes many great points throughout his essays, I also had a difficult time following along with some of his points. Many of them seemed to be rearticulated assertions by Milbank, Pickstock, and Ward, albeit in a much more accessible manner. Furthermore, I’m not too sure about his, along with Zizek’s, analysis of comtemporary Islam. Although a religious studies scholar, I am by no means an expert in Islam, so I must feign ignorance on a few of the assumptions there, but it struck me as odd how they tended to set up a dichotomy between modernity and Islam. Despite his emphasis on the feminine nature of Islam, Zizek also never examines the role of feminist Islamic scholarship within the discipline, and it just seemed to lack a kind of insider perspective. Although, in regards to this essay, I did find the connection of Allah as an intervening Father only in the absence of familial ties (such as Hagar and Ishmael’s exile in the desert) to be particularly fascinating, and I look forward to many great conversations about these issues with my Muslim friends and colleagues.

Finally, while the essays in the book are loosely connected, there isn’t a real sense of dialogue throughout the positioning of these essays. The authors never directly address one another or each other’s arguments. There are no rebuttals or responses, and it would have been beneficial to see the ways in which Zizek and Gunjević address each other’s essays directly. Without that dynamic, some of the essays can feel a bit disjointed from one another, leaving the reader to make the connections between their respective essays on their own.

Conclusion:

At the end of the day, this collection of essays between Zizek and Gunjević serves as a great example of a thoughtful exchange regarding the nature of theology, politics, and philosophy. These types of thoughtful dialogue can be rare to find in our current cultural climate, and examining the differences between these two authors, not for the sake of picking a side, but rather for challenging one’s own assumptions, is an enlightening experience. Also, their shared interest in examining the revolutionary potential of the core of Christianity is quite a fascinating theological/political project, and one that I hope inspires other thinkers and writers across disciplines.

To be honest, I don’t read books like Zizek and Gunjević’s to gather facts and data in order to answer questions, but rather to hold them in conversation as they challenge my assumptions and sharpen my own thinking. For those interested in thinking outside of the bounds of traditional religion, deconstructing our basal biases, and constructing a radical emancipatory politics out of the Abrahamic religious tradition, then this is definitely the book for you. Furthermore, if you’re interested in reading a condensed version of Zizek’s theological project, regardless of whether you are religious or irreligious, then this is a great place to start.