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Love, Loss, and Abjection: The Journey of New Birth in the Gospel of John
Love, Loss, and Abjection: The Journey of New Birth in the Gospel of John
Love, Loss, and Abjection: The Journey of New Birth in the Gospel of John
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Love, Loss, and Abjection: The Journey of New Birth in the Gospel of John

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This study explores the premise that the experience of being "born from above" in John's Gospel can be seen as mirroring the development of human subjectivity, particularly as understood through the psychoanalytic work of Julia Kristeva. It draws specifically on Kristeva's theory of how the human self/subject takes shape in infancy, her contention that subjectivity is a work in progress, and her insistence on abjection as a catalyst for developing selfhood. Examining the story of Mary of Bethany (as narrated in John 11-12) through this lens, this analysis seeks to better understand the concept of new birth and how it relates to being fully human.
LanguageEnglish
Release dateJun 3, 2016
ISBN9781498284110
Love, Loss, and Abjection: The Journey of New Birth in the Gospel of John
Author

Melanie Baffes

Melanie Baffes is a writer and independent biblical scholar. She is the author of Love, Loss, and Abjection (Pickwick Publications, 2016), coauthor of Research and Writing in the Seminary (2014), and coeditor of Nation and World, Church and God (2014).

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    Book preview

    Love, Loss, and Abjection - Melanie Baffes

    Table of Contents

    Acknowledgments

    Introduction
The Fourth Evangelist’s Understanding of Humanity

    Chapter 1: Rebirth through the Lens of Psychoanalytic Theory

    Chapter 2: The World as Illusion

    Chapter 3: The Boundary of Transformation

    Chapter 4: A Radically Different Life

    Chapter 5: The Journey of New Birth

    Appendix: Subjectivity in Psychoanalytic Theory and Rebirth in the Gospel of John

    Bibliography

    9781498284103.kindle.jpg

    Love, Loss, and Abjection

    The Journey of New Birth in the Gospel of John

    Melanie Baffes

    1282.png

    LOVE, LOSS, AND ABJECTION

    The Journey of New Birth in the Gospel of John

    Copyright © 2016 Melanie Baffes. All rights reserved. Except for brief quotations in critical publications or reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without prior written permission from the publisher. Write: Permissions, Wipf and Stock Publishers, 199 W. 8th Ave., Suite 3, Eugene, OR 97401.

    Pickwick Publications

    An Imprint of Wipf and Stock Publishers

    199 W. 8th Ave., Suite 3

    Eugene, OR 97401

    www.wipfandstock.com

    ISBN: 978-1-4982-8410-3 (paperback)

    ISBN: 978-1-4982-8412-7 (hardcover)

    ISBN: 978-1-4982-8411-0 (ebook)

    Cataloguing-in-Publication data:

    Name: Baffes, Melanie.

    Title: Love, loss, and abjection : the journey of new birth in the Gospel of John / Melanie Baffes.

    Description: Eugene, OR: Pickwick Publications,

    2016

    | Includes bibligraphical references and index.

    Identifiers: ISBN: 978-1-4982-8410-3 (paperback) | ISBN: 978-1-4982-8412-7 (hardback) | ISBN: 978-1-4982-8411-0 (ebook)

    Subjects: LCSH: Bible. John—Criticism, interpretation, etc. | Lazarus of Bethany, Saint. | Bible. New Testament—Psychology. | Title.

    Classification: BS2615.2 B28 2016 (print) | BS2615.2 (ebook)

    Manufactured in the U.S.A.

    Acknowledgments

    I would like to express profound gratitude to several colleagues who guided me in this unconventional exploration of John’s gospel. Dr. Seung Ai Yang introduced me to a breadth of hermeneutical approaches for reading the biblical text and went above and beyond to provide moral support in the early days of my research. Dr. Lallene Rector sparked my passion for psychology/psychoanalytic theory and offered invaluable guidance as I slowly found my niche. And Advisor Dr. K. K. Yeo listened patiently while my ideas took shape and skillfully guided me toward a productive project—all the time modeling brilliant scholarship, humility, and kindness. All three offered invaluable insights that have enriched this project in numerous ways.

    I also want to thank other scholars who supported me in this endeavor: Dr. Diane Capitani, co-author and friend; Dr. Osvaldo Vena, professor and fellow biblical scholar; and Dr. Angela Cowser, writing partner and coach. These professors were (and are) the best colleagues, mentors, and conversation partners an emerging scholar could ever hope for, and I am grateful for the spirit and authenticity they bring to their scholarship.

    Finally, my gratitude goes out to Rev. Julie Johnson, Rev. Rockwell Ward, and Rev. Dr. John Philip Newell, all of whom accompanied me on various legs of my journey to Christianity. Each of them taught me what it means to be made in the image of God, and each helped me see that questioning our beliefs, rather than being an indication of weakness, is actually a sign of deep engagement and, ultimately, genuine faith.

    Introduction
The Fourth Evangelist’s Understanding of Humanity

    In the four decades since Walter Wink first made his now-famous claim that historical biblical criticism is bankrupt, the field has expanded exponentially to recognize a variety of interpretive approaches, many of which have given voice to individuals and groups ignored by traditional methods. Biblical criticism increasingly has been de-centered, and no single approach shapes our understanding of the text. Yet the essence of Wink’s original claim still stands: the science of biblical criticism has objectified the text to such an extent that it creates a split consciousness in believers; we study the text as an object to be mastered and, in doing so, we become alienated from its transformative power. But this alienation, Wink claims, is the twin of another: our own alienation, in the act of scholarship, from ourselves. ¹ In any interpretation of the biblical text, we limit ourselves to asking only those questions that can be answered by the methods we have chosen and must therefore set aside the essential questions on which full human life depends. ² In fact, it is the understanding of human life, in Wink’s view, that is the very substance of the gospel: "Jesus’ teaching was not just that we should be free, but that we should be human. Oppression, poverty, and suffering inhibit our freedom to move on to the real point of the gospel: to become fully human beings." ³

    For Wink, the solution lies not in rejecting traditional methods of biblical criticism, but in combining them with an approach that takes seriously the ways in which modern readers are conditioned to read the text, an approach that allows them to struggle with the radical, life-challenging questions we have set aside. Only then will we be able to interpret the biblical text in such a way that it can enliven the past and illumine our present with new possibilities for personal and social transformation.

    Wink’s critique has particular resonance for my interest in the Fourth Gospel and the question that underlies this project: What can John’s gospel tell us about what it means to be fully human? If Wink is correct in claiming that Jesus’ message in the gospels is about being human, John’s gospel is a fitting place to look for evidence. One obvious reason is that the author of John depicts a profound separation between the divine and human realms. In his vision of the cosmos, John situates humanity in the world below, an earthly realm in which humans are enslaved to the powers of sin, death, and darkness. These powers operate in opposition to the world above, the heavenly realm of God in which light and life conquer death and darkness. The ultimate purpose of John’s two-worlds construct is to reveal the power of God over the hostile forces of the world below, and it is through this competing-powers imagery that John clearly establishes a relationship of domination between the divine and human realms.

    If humans are understood as standing in opposition to God—alienated from life, light, and truth, and in bondage to darkness, death, sin, slavery, and falsehood—the possibilities for human existence are limited at best. More than forty years ago, Mary Daly asserted that the concept of God as a transcendent Supreme Being who controls the world according to his will keeps humans in a state of subordination and infantile subjection.⁶ In John’s gospel, although humans do have access to union with God—a privilege innately theirs from birth by virtue of having been made in God’s image—at the same time, there is in humanity a deep dividedness and an inability to connect with God. From this perspective, humans are unaware of their longing for a deeper reality and are not living the fullness of life that is possible for them.

    Even more problematic, as feminist scholars have argued for decades, an ideology of domination like the one in John’s gospel is a dangerous model. Elisabeth Schüssler Fiorenza points out that promoting a worldview of power over shapes our understanding not only of our relationship to God but also our relationship to other humans. If God is king, monarch, Lord, warrior, divine patriarch, and all-powerful Father who presides over everything, has dominion over his chosen people, and demands obedience and submission from those he rules—and if Jesus is the great hero, the savior of the world, or the Son of God to whom humans must respond with love, worship, and sacrificial service—then all relationships are fair game for similar patterns of domination. History has demonstrated that the ethos of power over in the biblical text has been used to justify oppression (control, violence, and dehumanization) and Othering (marginalization, exclusion, and alienation)—and will continue to do so unless we find new ways to understand ourselves in relation to the Divine.

    Some scholars attempt to resolve the question of humanity’s estrangement from God in terms of relationship. In this view, humans are both alienated from God but also have a fundamental need to be connected; the role Jesus plays in atonement (at-one-ment) is to bring humanity back into wholeness and true relationship with God.⁸ Feminist scholars, especially, have explored John’s gospel in terms of themes such as friendship and love. Sandra Schneiders sees in John an invitation to share in divine love; she understands discipleship and service as acts of self-giving, with the highest form of serving involving not domination or superiority, but instead representing true friendship based on equality.⁹ Similarly, Dorothy Lee interprets John’s gospel through the lenses of love, friendship, and abiding. She understands the incarnation itself as an outpouring of the primordial love underlying all of creation, a love that overflows into the world and invites humanity into divine friendship. In Lee’s view, this love imbues all the relationships in John’s gospel with shared knowledge, trust, and openness in relationship to Jesus, who acts as the true friend.¹⁰ Mary Coloe sees relational themes in the Gospel of John expressed most clearly in the metaphors of family and household. Not only are relationships described in familial terms—Jesus is the Son, who is close to the Father’s heart and makes God known (1:18), and all who receive and believe in him have the power to become children of God (1:12)—but also the language evokes ideas of intimacy, friendship, and family.¹¹ Closely related to this theme is the idea of dwelling: In my Father’s house there are many dwelling-places (14:2). When Jesus invites the disciples to Abide in me, as I abide in you (15:4), the verb μένειν expresses more than just physical dwelling—it also conveys an intimate connection with Jesus, one grounded in the love relationship he shares with the Father.¹²

    Postcolonial scholars such as Kwok Pui-lan, Tan Yak-hwee, and Musa Dube explore the divine-human relationship from the perspective of colonialism, paying special attention to the ways in which the imperial ideology has been used historically (and continues to be used) as a tool of oppression. For postcolonial scholars, the power-over ethos embedded in John’s gospel reflects the experience of imperialism, and they seek to deconstruct this ideology by revealing the dynamics of inclusion and exclusion, center and margin, Self and Other. By exploring themes such as immigration, exile, migrancy, diaspora, displaced cultures, and border-crossing, postcolonial scholars call attention to the Western bias of traditional interpretations, revealing the idea of one truth above all others as a hierarchical construct of patriarchy. Each of these scholars encourages readers to understand the biblical narrative through their own myths, stories, and experiences and to blend together different cultural traditions in order to conceptualize truths about themselves, their world, and God.¹³

    While these interpreters have provided new lenses for understanding the human-divine relationship, their vision of the human person is circumscribed; none of these models acknowledges the importance of selfhood as a foundation for any authentic relationship. In the traditional domination-submission understanding of John’s gospel, the human self is subjugated to the primacy of Jesus and God. Yet even in relation-based understandings of John, human personhood is subsumed in community or merged in unity with the Divine. And postcolonial models, in attempting to dismantle the hierarchical/imperialist model of relationships, understand the individual in terms of a larger social and political cultural identity. What is missing from these interpretations is an important dimension of human experience: the role of individual selfhood, agency, authority, and responsibility in relationship to community, the world, and to God.

    A focus on the individual may seem counter to common understandings of John’s gospel, which is generally considered to be one of the church’s primary documents on Christian unity. Yet, as Raymond F. Collins argues, the depth of the gospel lies in its penetrating analysis of the meaning of the individual’s relationship with God in Christ.¹⁴ Similarly, C.F.D. Moule believes the Fourth Gospel to be more profoundly individualistic than any other New Testament writing. As evidence, he points to the fact that there are only four mentions of the Twelve (δώδεκα; 6:67; 70; 71; 20:24) in the gospel. In addition, numerous verses speak of the relationship between the Johannine Jesus and individual believers, as in whoever believes in me will never be thirsty (6:35). In John, Jesus has numerous encounters with individuals and, in many instances, he interacts differently with various characters, responding to the specific needs and circumstances of that person. Most important, the culmination of all of Jesus’ signs in John is the restoration of one individual’s life (11:38–44). These clues lead Moule to conclude that John envisions a one-by-one salvation.¹⁵

    It is clear that, at the same time the evangelist paints a picture of humans as separated from God, he also offers hope for the individual believer. John repeatedly encourages believing (alternately expressed as seeing, hearing, listening, receiving, following, abiding, dwelling, knowing, and confessing), which involves fully accepting God’s revelation in Jesus. Humans walk a line between belief and unbelief, what Ruldolf Bultmann calls a dualism of decision, highlighting the choice they must make between two ways of living¹⁶—living in the world of darkness and death or choosing the alternative life to which Jesus points, a life in which darkness and death no longer have power over humans. John stresses that only through believing in Jesus can this alternative life be found, and believing in this way is on such a deep level that it can only be thought of as transformative, a new birth.¹⁷ When John says that believers must be born from above (γεννηθῇ ἄνωθεν; 3:3, 7), it is a metaphor for being born into this new way of life, not as a one-time choice but as a continuing transformation to a way of seeing the world in which death no longer captures the human imagination.¹⁸

    While believing suggests a choice, an action, John’s vision of being born from above (γεννηθῇ ἄνωθεν; 3:3, 7) expresses a fundamental change in the individual, a change that bridges the divide between God and humans. The evangelist describes in detail what it means to be of this world—the human being before being born from above—but he provides few clues about what a born-from-above individual looks like and even fewer clues about how this fundamental change comes about.

    Mary of Bethany: A Journey of Transformation

    The following chapters explore the premise that being born from above can be understood in John’s gospel as a journey toward being fully human. Although several characters in the story come to believe in Jesus to varying degrees, I suggest that it is Mary of Bethany who embodies the fundamental change that being born from above signifies. Surprisingly, in reception history, Mary has been overlooked and diminished almost more than any other character in John’s gospel. Always living in the shadow of her sister Martha who, because of her complete confession of faith (11:27) is understood as the prototype of female discipleship and leadership among women,¹⁹ Mary often is interpreted as a model of a silent and submissive woman, the one who kneels and weeps in Jesus’ presence. Traditional interpreters such as Raymond E. Brown and Rudolf Schnackenburg, for example, see Mary’s role as secondary to Martha’s participation, suggesting that the scene in which she meets Jesus (11:28–33) is unnecessary because it does not add anything to the story or move the action forward.²⁰ Similarly, Rudolf Bultmann and Ben Witherington see Mary as exhibiting helplessness and a failure of trust; in their view, Mary has not reached the level of faith and certainty as her sister.²¹ Even feminist interpreters such as Sandra M. Schneiders, Adele Reinhartz, and Turid Karlsen Seim privilege Martha as the true disciple, leader, and role model, relegating Mary to being an echo of Martha whose sole function is to set the stage for the Jews.²² Elisabeth Moltmann-Wendel expresses well the reason Mary continues to be overlooked: she suffers the fate of many women: her voice is not loud, what she says is not original, her story is not dramatic. Her behavior is not noticeable, her conduct is modest.²³

    But even when Mary is acknowledged as a key player in the anointing story, she is shortchanged; her role is interpreted as a symbol of love, a model for proper discipleship, or a foreshadowing of Jesus’ death. Craig R. Koester interprets Mary’s anointing in terms of what it symbolizes: an extravagant gesture of love, honor, and devotion toward Jesus in the face of death, a symbol of the gift Jesus is about to give of his own life through crucifixion and death. Koester acknowledges that, on one level, Mary’s anointing is associated with serving another but, on a deeper level, he sees it as a symbol of the kind of love that is to characterize Christian life,²⁴ a love and care that transcends ordinary social conventions. Similarly, Amy-Jill Levine claims that Mary’s anointing presages the love commandment Jesus gives his disciples in the chapter following (13:34). Several interpreters, including Ernst Haenchen, see Mary’s anointing of Jesus as foreshadowing his washing of the disciples’ feet (13:5), with an unexpected reversal of serving and being served: Mary serves Jesus and then Jesus serves the disciples. The most generous

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