Violence and the kingdom of God: Introducing the anthropology of Rene Girard

Anglican Theological Review, Fall 1998 by Marr, Andrew

There is no question that the example of Jesus has triggered an enormous amount of sympathy for victims, from the hospitals for lepers that sprouted in the early Christian centuries to the extensive ministry to those suffering from AIDS in our own time. Unfortunately, the notorious examples of sacred violence committed by Christians are too many and too well known to need enumerating in this essay. As an example, Girard begins his book The Scapegoat with an analysis of a document by the fourteenth-century poet Guillaume de Machaut, which explains why the Jews are entirely to blame for the Black Death plague and, on that account, were worthy of the collective violence that was inflicted upon them.29 The disciples, when they were fighting over who was the greatest, proved to be a more attractive model to Christians than Jesus, who "humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death" (Phil. 2:8). Because of our tendency to perpetuate the mimetic rivalry of the disciples, we perpetuate the exclusionary mechanisms that we still prefer as a means of holding society together. It stands to reason, then, that Christian tradition would develop over time. The process of absorbing the "intelligence of the victim" is a slow one. It isn't a case of God having a change of mind and heart on some issues. Rather it is a case of the time it takes for God's people to understand how wide the kingdom of God really is and then to adjust to that reality.

One of the interesting signs of our times is that it is becoming more and more "politically correct" to show sympathy for victims, from unpopular groups within society to animals and the environment. There is much in Girard's theory to gratify anybody who is serious about being "politically correct." There is also a serious caution. As the example of King Josiah reminds us, there is always a danger that we will defend victims at the cost of creating victims. Another danger is that we can focus so intently on certain victims that the impact of our actions on other victims is not be noticed. Worse, a victim may claim entitlement to vindictive behavior that keeps the cycle of violence going. Alison writes:

If you know the crucified and risen victim, you know that you are not yourself the victim. The danger is much more that you are either actively, or by omission, or both, a victimizer.... The person who thinks of himself or herself as the victim is quick to divide the world into "we" and "they." In the knowledge of the risen victim there is only a "we," because we no longer need to define ourselves over against anyone at all.30

Many of us feel that we are living in a precarious time. Girard argues that this perception is true, and that the reason this is so is because Jesus has destroyed the mechanism of sacred violence once and for all. The old ways of stabilizing society can only fail now that Jesus has blown the cover on sacred violence. When we try them anyway we fragment society, splintering into small groups, each united around one victim or group of victims. Instead of one victim providing the centerpiece of a society, we have several victims providing several centers, which is to say there is no center at all. Since these acts of violence no longer "work," the violence escalates. Add the tendency of reform-minded people to defend victims in ways that create more victims, and we have the perfect recipe for social chaos. That's the bad news. The Good News is that God continues to gather all of us to the Kingdom of God's peace through the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit, the Paraclete, is our Advocate, our lawyer for the defense. We have to realize, of course, in the depths of our hearts, with God's grace, that the Holy Spirit is the Advocate of everybody. Following Jesus means becoming an advocate for all of God's people. God does not exclude anybody from the Kingdom. We can exclude ourselves, however, by excluding others.