The article is motivated by a growing interest to solve local problems by infusing indigenous knowledge systems. It discusses the strained interface between religious and political actors using a local brand of theology, termed bindepinde [stout rope] theology. This theology is based on a local fable told to children, on how a Hare abused Hippopotamus and Elephant using a tethering rope. The folk story is taken as a metaphor in which Hare represents the sly politician abusing the (...) rope to control Hippopotamus and Elephant, representing religious actors. Though Zimbabwe has a special place in this research, the research has shown that politicians act as third forces the world over. Religious entities often act as fodder for the progress of political demagogues, whose egos are legitimised by competing religious ideologies. Many religious bodies inadvertently enable politicians, thinking that they are fulfilling their own mandates. The article proposes negotiated versions of liberation theology and synodality as possible ways of overcoming inadvertent scaffolding of bindepinde theology. It concludes that while it may be difficult to tame the politician, it may be worthwhile to minimise the damage by making him focus more on the common good. Contribution: This article contributes bindepinde brand of theology as an indigenous theory of knowledge in the area of religio-political dialogue. The bindepinde theology has proved applicable to various contexts globally, where it thrives on dualism. Its mitigation lies in Kairos theology. (shrink)

This contribution is derived from a more extensive 2018 PhD study in which the contested nature of the discourses on reconciliation is explored. It provides a conceptual analysis of how reconciliation is understood in the Kairos Document. Regarded as an outstanding example of a theological response to the problem of apartheid, what is often overlooked is the tension implicit in its approach which, in turn, has serious implications for how matters of social justice are understood and acted upon. Here, (...) the need for political, economic and cultural liberation is emphasised. It is assumed that social justice can only follow upon liberation, and that reconciliation is only possible on the basis of following justice. In this contribution, I contend that those who take this approach are confronted with the danger of self-secularisation, of reducing the Christian confession to nothing more than an example of religious affiliation that may be tolerated as long as its particular claims are not foregrounded. The obvious danger, as may be the case with the Kairos Document, is one of being socially relevant without having anything distinct to offer. This, in turn, has serious implications for how its history and significance are approached pedagogically. (shrink)

In the not-too-distant future, robots will populate the walks of everyday life, from the manufacturing floor to corporate offices, and from battlefields to the home. While most work on the social implications of robotics focuses on such moral issues as the economic impact on human workers or the ethics of lethal machines, scant attention is paid to the effect of the advent of the robotic age on religion. Robots will likely become commonplace in the home by the end of the (...) twenty-first century as nannies and caretakers, particularly for young children. As a consequence, parents will want to be assured that robots will instruct their children in their values, based upon the moral teachings of their religious tradition. Consequently, parents will need robots programmed with appropriate religious software, installed by corporations but approved by their religious communities, e.g., Catholic robots, Muslim robots, and Lutheran robots. If, as expected, robots will acquire the capacity to engage in independent reasoning, believers will want to incorporate their robots within their religious communities to influence the evolution of robotic religious views. The Robotic Age will therefore present basic theological challenges. If robots simulate human personalities, desires, and fears, can religious communities tailor their doctrine, rituals, and institutions to accommodate these new “converts”? In short, can religion generate “soulless” theologies for the non-human? The Robotic Age promises a challenge unlike any other in the history of religious traditions. Biofundamentalists will undoubtedly resist revolutionary changes in theology, but for many people of faith, it will be difficult to resist appealing to those who appear and act strikingly like human beings. This paper poses questions and entertains speculation about those theological challenges, particularly in Christianity, which believers will face, e.g., concepts of the soul, blood sacrifice and redemption, marriage, and death. (shrink)

The Christian church in Zimbabwe radically indicated the courage and consciousness to identify itself with the struggle for liberation of the marginalised, the oppressed and the impoverished, more specifically in the context of chimurenga or the armed struggle. Thus, the Kairos model of ecclesiology consistently and unequivocally supported masses who were the majority Zimbabweans during the protracted struggle of the 1970s against racial system, thereby assuming such designations as the church of struggle, the Church of chimurenga, the church in (...) trenches and combat with the people; hence, the liberationist language signalled a symbol of Kairos consciousness for Zimbabwean ecclesiology. Kairos consciousness implies the liberationist methodological framework of ecclesiology when the church becomes the interlocutor and articulator identified and associated with non-persons. Furthermore, the non-persons, the impoverished and the marginalised occupy the epicentre of epistemological space in ecclesiological discourse. Precisely, the socio-economic and political landscape of Zimbabwe radically shifted from 2000 onwards, marking the genesis of a crisis. This article based on ecclesiology investigates prophetic role and the impact of the church in the context of Zimbabwean crisis. (shrink)

The thirtieth anniversary of the publication of the Kairos Document was celebrated in August 2015. This was the most radical of several theological declarations issued by Christians during the struggle against apartheid. Arguing that theology itself had become a site of that struggle, it rejected ‘state theology’, which gave legitimacy to apartheid, and ‘church theology’ which promoted reconciliation without justice as its pre-requisite. Against these, it presented a ‘prophetic theology’ as a challenge to the churches (...) in response to what was perceived as a kairos moment. Since then the Kairos Document has inspired a global movement in which its social analysis and understanding of prophetic theology has been adopted in a variety of contexts, most notably in the Kairos-Palestine Document. In reflecting on the significance of this global kairos movement, I firstly examine the meaning of ‘prophecy’ and ‘prophetic theology’, arguing that ‘prophetic theology’ is in continuity with the message of the Hebrew prophets and the ministry and mission of Jesus. Secondly, I examine the use of the term kairos to describe historical turning points which demand such a prophetic theological response. Thirdly, I address the need for an ecumenical prophetic ecclesiology that foregrounds the responsibility of the church to discern and understand those God-given kairos moments in history that demand a prophetic response. (shrink)

This essay develops a Rahnerian view of kairos and proposes its contemporary utility in addressing the multiple prophetic calls to action in our media-saturated environment. In Rahner’s theology, kairos is the time of grace and opportunity, inaugurated by the event of Jesus Christ, in which each human person must accept or reject God’s loving self-communication. Because the chronos of daily life takes place within the kairos of Jesus Christ, there is kairos in every moment of (...) chronos. Thus, the typical depiction of chronos and kairos is inverted. Instead of occasional moments of kairos interrupting the ongoing stream of chronos, Rahner portrays chronos as set within the larger reality of kairos. Our chronos takes place within the kairos of Jesus Christ. Such a view does not mitigate or prioritize the many prophetic calls contemporary Christians receive. It can, however, place them in appropriate theological context of the history of God that succeeds. Kairos is a reality created by God’s salvific activity and an opportunity to participate in the salvific love of God. (shrink)

This article proposes a new interpretation of the concept of Kairos in Paul Tillich's theology. It suggests that Tillich gave it exactly the same meaning as that of the Greek New Testament, i.e. the propitious moment in history for the advent of the Son of Man. Tillich's writings offer indications of the metaphysical qualities of this mysterious character.

The recent wave of interest in the “theological-political” has focused scholarly attention on the constellation of ideas associated with “messianic time.” The term kairós belongs to this constellation, and Giacomo Marramao’s brief but ambitious text of the same name both proposes and performs a “kairological” reconfiguration of the close relationship between philosophy and time. Marramao’s argument for the productive potential of “cosmic disorientation” and contingency will merit the attention of historians interested in Benjamin’s blend of messianism and historical materialism, and (...) of anyone who is intrigued by the prospect of a messianism without apocalypticism. (shrink)

The article reflects on the silence and apparent passivity of many women priests in the current debate on their representation in the episcopate of the Church of England. The author locates such inactivity in clergy women's fear of militancy, and the absence, in their expression of vocation hopes, of an agenda for the transformation of ecclesial structures. The legal provi sions defining their priesthood, and the lack of organizational strategy to equip them for leadership, foster professional tension and uncertainty as (...) to status and development. Women clergy seem surprisingly ignorant of the debt owed to Christian feminists and their role in the promotion of women's ordination; this needs to be remedied. Unless they support one another, and so inform themselves as to speak out responsibly and courteously for fresh understandings and exercises of authority that are viable for the pre sent, their ordination as priests brings no radical change to the institutional Church, in which their opponents remain articulate and active in dissent. (shrink)

One of the key concepts in Giorgio Agamben’s reading of Paul is temporality. In this article, Delahaye examines this concept. Delahaye shows that Agamben’s understanding of messianic temporality hinges on the opposition between kairos and chronos, which Agamben takes for granted. He consequently traces this opposition back to Heidegger’s influence on Agamben. This leads Delahaye to conclude that messianic temporality can be understood as a variation on Heidegger’s idea of ecstatic temporality.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Guest Editor's Introduction:A Moment for KairosTina SkouenHow does one describe a crucial moment, a moment that calls for action? What kinds of time are opened, disclosed, or foreclosed in such moments? This section explores a concept that has a long history in rhetoric and philosophy, but which is urgently called for now, in a time that many think of as critical, catastrophic, or even apocalyptic. Changes in the economy, (...) climate, and the state of our democracies demand urgent attention, and while people disagree on the course to be taken, there is a sense that—this is it!—now is the time. The concept of kairos (from ancient Greek καιρός) comprises both a critical time and a perfect opportunity; it is the right moment to act, even though the word could also be interpreted in a more general sense as referring to the issue of right timing. Considered as "one of the most untranslatable of Greek words," kairos is perhaps related to the verb kurō, "to meet" or "meet accidentally," as when an arrow meets a target, suggesting that there is a spatial component in the temporal kairos.1 The spatial dimension shines through in the earliest uses of the term discussed in both SeungJung Kim's article on ancient Greek visual arts and Robert Sullivan's article on Isocrates (436–338 BCE). According to Sullivan's survey, Isocrates most often employs the word to refer to a specific situation, occasion, state of affairs, or set of circumstances.How do you recognize, let alone seize, this kind of moment, though? The best-known depiction of this difficulty is a portrait of Kairos personified that dates back to Lysippos in the fourth century BCE, reconstructed visually in three dimensions in Kim's essay. In Greek mythology Kairos is the god of golden opportunities, which (as we all know!) tend to pass by too quickly. The portrait shows a winged figure with a flowing forelock that ideally gives you something to hold on to. I like to imagine that if you [End Page 267] manage to arrest this passing instant, time itself comes to an abrupt halt, which throws Kairos's hair out in front of his face.Of course, people do not necessarily see it as positive when someone appears to have captured the moment. At the kairos symposium hosted by art historian Barbara Baert in Brussels in October 2018, W. J. T. Mitchell held up a picture of President Donald Trump's sculpted forelock to illustrate that it all depends on the perspective. Turning the familiar Greek portrait into an image of the opportunist, Mitchell reminded all of us that had gathered to celebrate the legacy of kairos in iconographic, philosophical, theological, semantic, historical, and anthropological studies, of the ethical issues arising in such moments. The question of moral accountability is bound to come up, whether one takes kairos to refer to the act of seizing the moment, involving some form of decision, or to the moment itself, the kairos, which some might claim just seized upon them and carried them away.As Debra Hawhee and Erik Charles White before her have argued, kairos does not seem to be confined by the subjective reason operating in a "rhetorical situation," but it depends on "the forces pushing on the encounter," in addition to instinct and intuition, and possibly on habitual impulses springing from experience (Hawhee 2002, 24–25; White 1987; reconsidered by Brod 2021). Audiences may also have a significant role to play, as Kermit Campbell underscores in his discussion of the symbiosis of call and response in African American churches and his reflection on how Martin Luther King's speech at the 1963 March on Washington replied to a call: "Tell them about the dream, Martin."The moment of kairos may appear spontaneous and deliberate, both at the same time. The classical rhetoricians in fact insisted on the value of preparing for the unexpected, as we try to do in our current crisis management plans. In his essay, Sullivan documents the incredibly nuanced instructions Isocrates gave on how to exploit a prospective opening in all sorts of civic settings. From a rhetorical viewpoint, kairos can appear both as... (shrink)

This article addresses the rise of faith-based emergency relief by examining the US President’s Emergency Plan for HIV/AIDS (PEPFAR), a public health intervention focused on the AIDS epidemic in sub-Saharan Africa. It argues that the theological turn in humanitarian aid serves to amplify ongoing dynamics in the domestic politics of sub-Saharan African states, where social services have assumed the form of chronic emergency relief and religious organizations have come to play an increasingly prominent role in the provision of such services. (...) In the context of an ongoing public health crisis, PEPFAR has institutionalized the social authority of the Pentecostal and charismatic churches, leading to a semantic confluence between the postcolonial politics of emergency and the Pentecostal/Pauline theology of kairos or event. Far from being confined to the space of foreign aid, however, the faith-based turn in humanitarianism is in keeping with ongoing reforms in domestic social policy in the United States. While on the one hand the sustained welfare programmes of the New Deal and Great Society have been dismantled in favour of a system of emergency relief, on the other hand the federal government has intensified its moral, pedagogical and punitive interventions into the lives of the poor. The wilful transfer of welfare services to overtly religious service providers has played a decisive role in this process. The article concludes with a critical appraisal of the links between African and North American Pentecostal-evangelical churches and questions the revolutionary mission ascribed to Pauline political theology in recent political theory. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Guest Editor's Introduction:A Moment for KairosTina SkouenHow does one describe a crucial moment, a moment that calls for action? What kinds of time are opened, disclosed, or foreclosed in such moments? This section explores a concept that has a long history in rhetoric and philosophy, but which is urgently called for now, in a time that many think of as critical, catastrophic, or even apocalyptic. Changes in the economy, (...) climate, and the state of our democracies demand urgent attention, and while people disagree on the course to be taken, there is a sense that—this is it!—now is the time. The concept of kairos (from ancient Greek καιρός) comprises both a critical time and a perfect opportunity; it is the right moment to act, even though the word could also be interpreted in a more general sense as referring to the issue of right timing. Considered as "one of the most untranslatable of Greek words," kairos is perhaps related to the verb kurō, "to meet" or "meet accidentally," as when an arrow meets a target, suggesting that there is a spatial component in the temporal kairos.1 The spatial dimension shines through in the earliest uses of the term discussed in both SeungJung Kim's article on ancient Greek visual arts and Robert Sullivan's article on Isocrates (436–338 BCE). According to Sullivan's survey, Isocrates most often employs the word to refer to a specific situation, occasion, state of affairs, or set of circumstances.How do you recognize, let alone seize, this kind of moment, though? The best-known depiction of this difficulty is a portrait of Kairos personified that dates back to Lysippos in the fourth century BCE, reconstructed visually in three dimensions in Kim's essay. In Greek mythology Kairos is the god of golden opportunities, which (as we all know!) tend to pass by too quickly. The portrait shows a winged figure with a flowing forelock that ideally gives you something to hold on to. I like to imagine that if you [End Page 267] manage to arrest this passing instant, time itself comes to an abrupt halt, which throws Kairos's hair out in front of his face.Of course, people do not necessarily see it as positive when someone appears to have captured the moment. At the kairos symposium hosted by art historian Barbara Baert in Brussels in October 2018, W. J. T. Mitchell held up a picture of President Donald Trump's sculpted forelock to illustrate that it all depends on the perspective. Turning the familiar Greek portrait into an image of the opportunist, Mitchell reminded all of us that had gathered to celebrate the legacy of kairos in iconographic, philosophical, theological, semantic, historical, and anthropological studies, of the ethical issues arising in such moments. The question of moral accountability is bound to come up, whether one takes kairos to refer to the act of seizing the moment, involving some form of decision, or to the moment itself, the kairos, which some might claim just seized upon them and carried them away.As Debra Hawhee and Erik Charles White before her have argued, kairos does not seem to be confined by the subjective reason operating in a "rhetorical situation," but it depends on "the forces pushing on the encounter," in addition to instinct and intuition, and possibly on habitual impulses springing from experience (Hawhee 2002, 24–25; White 1987; reconsidered by Brod 2021). Audiences may also have a significant role to play, as Kermit Campbell underscores in his discussion of the symbiosis of call and response in African American churches and his reflection on how Martin Luther King's speech at the 1963 March on Washington replied to a call: "Tell them about the dream, Martin."The moment of kairos may appear spontaneous and deliberate, both at the same time. The classical rhetoricians in fact insisted on the value of preparing for the unexpected, as we try to do in our current crisis management plans. In his essay, Sullivan documents the incredibly nuanced instructions Isocrates gave on how to exploit a prospective opening in all sorts of civic settings. From a rhetorical viewpoint, kairos can appear both as... (shrink)

The essay starts from various recent magisterial statements - specially Fides et Ratio - which underline in particular the theme of the knowledge of God as an event that brings to its destination a free and personal initiative of the love of God, which acts in view of the success of such encounter. The philosophical and theological reflection seeks to deepen, in the reciprocal exchange of competences, the structure of this exchange between truth, justice and love of God, in which (...) the metaphysical-ontological and the ethical-existential profile of knowledge of Him illuminate each other only together, through the embrace of their intrinsic connection. (shrink)

The task of theologizing literature in the twentieth century -- Bergonsian conceptions of time : duration, dualism, intention -- Meeting the eternal in the present : Bergsonsism and the theology of present time in C.S. Lewis's The great divorce -- T.S. Eliot's Bergonsian "always present" : incarnation and duration in Four quartets -- W.H. Auden's themes of time and dualism : the Bergsonsian theology of "kairos and logos.".

What is the direction of South African theological ethics as that country moves out of the apartheid era into a new democratic future? Following its struggle against apartheid, how will theology respond to the new challenge of making clear its distinctive stance in a democratic, multi-faith society with a secular constitution? A danger, similar to that previously discussed in the United States, exists in South Africa as theology evolves from a mode of resistance to that of compliance and (...) accommodation, especially under the guise of "nation-building." The essay plots a trajectory by means of a consideration of four works representing nonracial liberationist theology which emerged at key points in the past fifteen years—the Kairos Document, and works by Albert Nolan, Charles Villla-Vicencio, and James Cochrane. For all their contextual sensitivity and strength, these works appear to offer little of a distinctively theological nature, and little of Christian substance to church and society. The way lies open for the development of an African Christian ethics. (shrink)

In this essay, I seek to enhance eschatological perspectives on work through specific engagement with Qoheleth’s theology of time in Eccl. 2–3. I suggest that prior to a perceptual transformation in the first of the book’s so-called carpe diem passages, Qoheleth is dissatisfied with his labour because he construes it temporally-speaking within a chronology characterised by competition. Within such a construal, death poses the ultimate obstacle to the enjoyment of labour, because it strips away the promise of an immortal (...) inheritance produced by human hands. What transforms Qoheleth’s relationship to labour is a new understanding of time as kairos, defined as the opportune time in which God unexpectedly intervenes in human work ‘under the sun’ and does something paradigmatically new. Under this ‘kairological’ perspective, Qoheleth assumes a posture of receipt, declaring present labour as a gift from God, with internal as well as external goods for the worker. Qoheleth’s ‘accipe diem work ethic’ draws the eschatological ultimacy of life and peace into present labour, re-orienting eschatological understandings of work that fall prey to competitive-chronological notions of progress. (shrink)

Wright, Claire Louise If the sacraments are, as Louis-Marie Chauvet argues, the major symbolic expressions of 'the body as the point where God writes God's self in us', few concepts could be more central to sacramental theology than time, the medium in which human, ecclesial, cultural and cosmic 'bodies' have their being and expression. Christian narratives, traditions and rituals are founded in history and the shared memory of culture. As Miroslav Volf notes, the 'sacred memory' of the death and (...) resurrection of Christ defines the identity of Christians as 'the pulsating heart that energizes and directs their actions and forms their hopes '. Indeed, all human experience, identity and meaning-making are mediated by an awareness of time, the flow and relativity of chronos and the moment of kairos. As Chauvet puts it, the 'sensible mediation' of history comprises 'the very milieu within which human beings attain their truth and thus correspond to the Truth which calls them'. (shrink)

One of the unsolved problems for the historical and philosophical thought of Ukraine is the lack of reflection on the phenomenon of Ukrainian neo-Thomism. Today, there has not been reconstructed the history of this trend, which had been actively developing in the interwar Western Ukraine since the time of socio-ethical letters by Andrei Sheptytsky in the early XX century, gained new connotations in the diaspora from 1940s to 1990s and acquired new forms in Roman Catholic thought in Ukraine at the (...) beginning of the XXI century. Moreover, a comprehensive historical and philosophical assessment of the achievements and shortcomings of Ukrainian neo-Thomism at different stages of its development has not been made. Meanwhile, Ukrainian neo-Thomism is experiencing a crisis, which it is trying to overcome by translating controversial works devoted mainly to the history of moral theology. The main feature of the proposed works is the oscillation between the need to recognize the presence of a person’s spiritual-intellectual and moral-volitional intuitions and the reluctance to recognize it openly, because it would be contrary to the very principles of Thomism. Modern Ukrainian neo-Thomism inherits this contradiction, and therefore the choice of classic books for translation reflects the dialectic of the struggle of different tendencies, which objectively cannot contribute to the legitimization of neo-Thomism in the Ukrainian philosophical discourse. Especially significant in this regard was the translation of the book by the classic of Polish neo-Thomism Mieczysław Krąmpiec “Why evil?”, because this monograph shows the contradiction of neo-Thomistic thought in the key issues about the possibility of person’s moral intuition, moral responsibility and dignity. The very refusal of Krąmpiec to recognize the existence of a person’s spiritual-intellectual and moral-volitional intuitions, despite all the prerequisites for such recognition, leads the monograph Why evil? to failure and to inability to answer the question stated in the title of the monograph. All this justifies that in the time of Pope Benedict XVI and Pope Francis moral theology and social doctrine moved to neo-Augustinianism, which unequivocally recognizes that the person has spiritual-intellectual and moral-volitional intuitions. (shrink)

This essay examines the relation of Darwin's orchids book to a central persuasive flaw in theOrigin: Its inability to give variation sufficient “presence” to break the hold of “design” in the mind of the reader. Darwin characterized the orchids book as “a flank movement on the enemy”; this essay identifies the “enemy” as Paley's natural theology and the “flank” as thetopoi, maxims, and habits of perception that led Darwin's colleagues and contemporaries to see design in nature. Moreover, this essay (...) examines three aspects of rhetorical timing pertinent toOrchids - time askairos, time as adequate duration, and time as transformation - and then relates those features to Robert Cox's Heideggerian logic of repetition, disavowal, and transcendence. The essay concludes with implications of the tactical and temporal aspects of Darwin's reasoning for understanding both the logic of science and of Darwin as a rhetorical artist. (shrink)

The editor has been quite successful in selecting experts to write the three-to-four-page articles in this handbook, and in most cases he has chosen advocates rather than critics to expound particular concepts: e.g., Nygren on Eros and Agape, Tillich on Kairos, Dinkler on demythologizing. Each article lists one or two important books on its subject.--L. S. F.

The editor has been quite successful in selecting experts to write the three-to-four-page articles in this handbook, and in most cases he has chosen advocates rather than critics to expound particular concepts: e.g., Nygren on Eros and Agape, Tillich on Kairos, Dinkler on demythologizing. Each article lists one or two important books on its subject.--L. S. F.

This chapter provides a survey of the reception of Kierkegaard among a group of German Protestant intellectuals in and after the early 1920s: Karl Barth, Emil Brunner, Rudolf Bultmann, and Paul Tillich. Regardless of substantial differences between their respective theological conceptions, these thinkers are unified by the joint project of doing theology in a radically new way, which was supposed to prove immune against the shortcomings of an earlier “Cultural Protestantism.” On closer inspection this project plus the differing attempts (...) at realizing it turn out to be heavily dependent on and often prefigured in the respective, often highly eclectic, appropriations of Kierkegaard. The chapter argues that despite these particularities, the overall type of reception dominant among German protagonists of the movement of “dialectical theology” is genuinely productive. Without exception, the authors in question invoke (often implicitly) what they take to be Kierkegaardian resources in the interest of expounding fundamental tenets of their own theological outlook. (shrink)

Starting from the impact of biblical teachings on Islam, the first part of this article attempts to show the divergent paths that Christianity and Islam have taken when confronted with the three dimensions of time (_chronos, kairos, krisis_). The article aims to elucidate the distinct onto-theologies of the two religious discourses by analysing various examples that illustrate this divergence. Consequently, the onto-theology of Islam can be encapsulated as “One unites in two,” in contrast to the onto-theology of (...) Christianity, which can be formulated as “One divides into two.” In the second part of the article, one of the political implications of the onto-theology of “One united in two” is examined in depth in a socio-political context, showing how the conceptualisation of such a context can only be done adequately if its onto-theological dimension is taken into account. (shrink)

What is salvific community for Ignatius of Loyola? It is communion with Christ, a dynamic for which Ignatius used the expression ‹societies Jesu›. This wording has a revealing intertextuality. ‹Societas› is the Vulgate’s rendering of Pauline and Johannine koinōnia: «sharing in (Christ)». The NT overtones of the Ignatian experience of communion can be explored regarding a theology of relationship (person), of action (history) and of the Church (representation). Being a person is understood as being friend and servant, history as (...) the salvific kairos of Christ’s activity, and the Church as the communion representing him—each time a typically Christian conception deciding always for that option that cannot be generalised through abstraction. (shrink)

This article proceeded from the assumption that the theme of service delivery in present-day South Africa could well be qualified by the notion of 'crisis', to the extent that this qualification, from a theological perspective and on the basis of comparative social analysis, well recalls the statements in such critical and profound theological documents as The Kairos Document and Evangelical Witness in South Africa on the 'crisis' in the latter years of apartheid. The further recognition that the theme of (...) service delivery constitutes an essentially new focus for practical-theological scholarship in South Africa led the author, who has a pertinent interest in the field of Christian diaconia, to thereupon go the full circle of practical-theological interpretation in developing such a focus. This was done by, firstly, attempting to develop a deeper contextual understanding of the problem of service delivery in the country on the basis of the prevailing debate on service delivery in South Africa, after which the ideas from conceptualisations of two different modes of diaconal practice within contexts of endemic poverty in the practical-theological literature were explored. The discussion concluded with a more pertinent consideration of the extent to which these two conceptualisations could be taken as providing direction in conceptualising a transformational diaconal response to the current service-delivery problem. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:The Suffering of Economic Injustice:A Christian PerspectiveUlrich DuchrowTogether we are facing a global kairos of humanity because these years are decisive for whether our civilization will irreversibly continue to produce death or whether we find a way out toward a life-enhancing new culture. So let me try to make a humble contribution to our common search for liberation from suffering toward life through justice.suffering caused by economic injustice (...) in the axial age and in the capitalist civilization of modernityWe do not need to spend much time on describing the sufferings caused by economic injustice. They cry to high heaven every day. Jean Ziegler, the former UN Special Rapporteur on the Right to Food, speaks of more than 60 million people dying of hunger and its consequences every year, especially children, although there is more than enough to feed them. That is an annual World War II against the poor. He continues to say: “A child that dies of hunger is murdered.” He calls this a daily crime against humanity.1 Others call it structural genocide.2 All these victims are human beings with a human face, according to biblical tradition created in the image of God. So we are talking about murdering living images of God, about blasphemy.Also, the blue planet Earth’s suffering is growing dramatically. The extinction of species is accelerating, desertification is expanding, the poisoning of water and soil is increasing, and climate change is producing irreversible effects like lifting the sea level, devouring islands in the Pacific and growing parts of Bangladesh, creating weather disasters everywhere, and possibly increasing temperature in parts of Africa by ten degrees. We all know this, but so far we have not been able to make the necessary changes in global economics and politics to stop or at least slow it.Often forgotten are the psychological and spiritual sufferings and diseases of a growing number of people. In India an average of more than fifty farmers, driven into debt beyond their means, commit suicide daily out of despair.3 Workers suffer increasing stress and anxiety, and middle-class people fall into depression, projected to be the second most common illness in 2020, according the World Health Organization. So what are the roots of all of this? [End Page 27]My thesis is that what we are experiencing now started nearly three thousand years ago within what is called the Axial Age, beginning in the eighth century bce, in the whole of Eurasia from Greece to China. At that time a new economy started to appear in daily life, built on money and private property. It had tremendous social as well as psychological and spiritual effects. To analyze what happened then helps us understand what is happening today. Looking at the responses to this development by the different faiths and philosophies in Israel/Judah, India, China, and Greece may also help us to better understand the tasks and possibilities of engaged Buddhists and liberation theologians in our age.The philosopher Karl Jaspers coined the term “Axial Age.”4 According to him, the experience of violent crises between 800 and 200 bce might have prompted the parallel efforts of the prophets, the Buddha, Confucius, Daoism, and Greek philosophy to find new foundations for living together. He characterized the new approach as intellectual and spiritual (geistig), looking only marginally at the economic and political context. Recently Karen Armstrong and, based on her findings, Jeremy Rifkin took up this theory, looking particularly at war and violence as causes for the responses within the different cultures.5 Also José María Vigil, who is present here, has just published a chapter in his book on Theology of Axiality and Axial Theology.6 As far as the sociohistoric context of the Axial Age is concerned my thesis comes nearest to what David Graeber has worked out in his book Debt: The First 5,000 Years,7 although he is not very interested in the religious responses. Combining his insights with my own research,8 let me summarize how the new economy affects ancient societies.Money as unit of account was used in the palaces and temples of Mesopotamia as early... (shrink)

What a sublime and, at the same time, sordid vocation this theological discipline has. My major concern is an unfamiliar Antonio Negri, one who engages in some biblical criticism in his recently translated The Labor of Job (2009), a detailed philosophical exegesis of the “marvelous” biblical book of Job.1 Two features of Negri’s analysis stand out: the oppositions of kairós and ákairos, and measure and immeasure. However, before I explore those oppositions in some detail, two preliminary comments are needed. At (...) the heart of the book is what I would like to call a radical homiletics. A discipline much neglected these days, homiletics is really the art of connecting a text like the Bible with the realities .. (shrink)

Resumen: El artículo establece paralelos entre el Concilio Vaticano II (1962-1965) y la Conferencia General del Episcopado Latinoamericano (Medellín, 1968), bajo la perspectiva común de la historicidade del “mistério de la Iglesia”. Un paralelismo fundamental: la creación del CELAM (1955) anticipa en la práctica la doctrina de la colegialidad episcopal, promulgada por el Concilio ( Lumem Gentium 22). Bajo el foco de la colegialidade eclesial, toda la intensa actividad de preparación de la Conferencia de Medellín, así como su realización y (...) su documento final, se construye “a la luz del Concilio”. Desde la autocomprensión de la Iglesia inserida en la historia –expresada y compartida en los dos acontecimentos- se formulan los grandes temas y compromisos de la Iglesia latino-americana: la opción evangélica por los pobres; la nueva manera de ser Iglesia que se concreta en las comunidades eclesiales de base; y la dimensión teológica de las aspiraciones y exigências de liberación, formulada posteriormente por la teologia de la liberación. Leídos en clave teológica, el Concilio y Medellín fueron un signo de los tiempos, un kairós en el caminar histórico de la Iglesia hacia el Reino. La reflexiópn se refiere también a un actual “tiempo de exilio” de la Iglesia, que se caracteriza por la distancia de las grandes y exigentes convocaciones del Concilio y de Medellín. En el exilio, voces proféticas conclaman a superar el olvido de la historia. Palabras-clave : Iglesia. Concilio Vaticano II. CELAM. Conferencia de MedellíThis article draws parallels between the Second Vatican Council (1962 – 1965) and the Second General Conference of Latin American Bishops (Medellín, 1968), under the common view of the historicity of the “mystery of the Church”. A basic parallel arises: the creation of CELAM (1955) anticipates the doctrine of episcopal collegiality, promulgated by the Council (Lumen Gentium 22). Under the focus of the ecclesial collegiate, all the intensive activity of preparation for the Conference of Medellin, its realization and its final document, were made through the Council inspiration. By comprehending the Church as inserted in history the major themes and commitments of the Latin American Church are formulated: the evangelical option for the poor, the new way of being church founded in ecclesial communities, the theological dimensions of the aspirations and demands for liberation later formulated in Liberation Theology. Seen with theological eyes, the Council and the Conference of Medellín were a sign of the times, a historical movement of the Church towards the Kingdom of God. This discussion also refers to the current time of the Church as a “time in exile”. The present time is characterized by its detachment from the demands of the Council and of Medellín. In exile, prophetic voices call on to overcome the forgetting of history. Keywords: Church. Vatican Council II. CELAM. Conference of Medellín. - DOI: 10.5752/P.2175-5841.2011v9n24p1233. (shrink)

This article explores Professor T.F.J. Dreyer's definition for preaching that he developed for preaching in the Netherdutch Reformed Church of Africa (NRCA) three decades ago. Dreyer's own homiletical perspective towards preaching developed continuously through numerous philosophical paradigm shifts since 1989. His basis theory plays an important role in the theological training of the church's students today. The aim of the research is to reflect on the changes, following Dreyer's homiletical development over three decades. The research discovers a strong prophetical character (...) in the homiletical approach of Dreyer and concludes by asking how a kairos moment of prophetical speech can benefit the NRCA. CONTRIBUTION: This research hopes to contribute to the existing research that was done in the homiletical field of traditional Afrikaans-speaking churches in South Africa. The research also contributes by identifying some homiletical perspectives that can help the church to proclaim the gospel in times of transition. (shrink)

Träume eines Geistersehers : unhistorische Überlegungen -- Die deutsche Studentenrevolte und ihr Nachspiel der Identitäten -- Der Ausgang aus der selbst verschuldeten Unmündigkeit als Auszug aus der Schuld -- Kairos und Krise : Ernst Blochs Philosophie der eschatologischen Formen und die Aporie des messianischen Augenblicks.

This article shows that Held's central philosophical concern is with the manner in which the withdrawal of world is apparent in kairological moments disclosed in fundamental moods. The phenomenology of world is for him a way of overcoming voluntarist nominalism. World is of its nature a limit to will and is experienced in the passivity of being acted upon. It is shown how Held emphasizes the common origins of philosophy and politics in the fundamental moods of wonder and awe. In (...) the final section it is argued - with reference to his more recent encounter with theological and scriptural themes - that Held's understanding of kairos and doxa is one-sided. By failing to account for the biblical transformation of both terms, especially St Paul's conception of the kairos as a suspension of world and by equating the Judaeo-Christian God with its voluntaristic conception, Held fails to give sufficient weight to the singularity of the kairos in the kenotic humbling of will implicit in the Christian notions of creation and incarnation. (shrink)

This article will offer a close reading of sections 74 and 75 of “Chapter V: Temporality and Historicality” of Division Two of Heidegger’s Being and Time (1927). Our goal is to expand on a speculative metaphysical reconstruction of Chapter 17 of the Gospel of John, when Jesus is finished speaking to the disciples and is addressing the Father alone. This is right before his Passion, namely the arrest, trial, crucifixion, and ultimate Resurrection. The work is not situated in either abstract (...) systematic or biblical theology, which seeks to defend faith, particularly using modern continental philosophical resources, such as the early Heidegger’s fundamental ontology. Then again, it is not a philosophy of religion either, in the sense that it is not concerned with investigating the nature or essence of religion. Rather, it is trying to move within Being and Time to construct anew its ‘missing Division Three’ by creating new terms and distinctions beyond what is offered in the first Two Divisions. Our hypothesis is this: the supersession of Being and Time requires an imaginative metaphysical expansion of hidden secrets buried in the Gospel regarding a strange double temporalization in the discourse of Jesus to his Father. These two temporal planes are phenomenologically irreducible to either the linear sequence of events of his life as narrated in the four Gospels; or the history of theological attempts, particularly twentieth-century theological giants (Barth, Tillich, Rahner, Moltmann, Pannenberg), to think about the time-eternity-history relation with regard to the Kairos (through the Incarnation of the Son) at the fulfilled time and the Parousia, namely the Second Coming at the eschatological end of time. The article concludes with certain criteria regarding judgements on the undecidability of theism vs. atheism when attempting to go beyond Heidegger’s Being and Time. The ontological consequences, and therefore meaning of such an undertaking at a step beyond Being and Time, remain indiscernible for specific reasons. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Ethics and Time: Ethos of Temporal Orientation in Politics and Religion of the Niger DeltaMelissa BrowningEthics and Time: Ethos of Temporal Orientation in Politics and Religion of the Niger Delta Nimi Wariboko Lanham, Md.: Lexington Books, 2010. 193 pp. $60.00In Ethics and Time: Ethos of Temporal Orientation in Politics and Religion of the Niger Delta, Nimi Wariboko offers a new definition of temporal orientation, arguing that this new (...) understanding of time can help us rethink social ethics, particularly economic ethics. He begins by citing literature showing that temporal orientation has always been used to speak about how a sociocultural group sees itself in light of a “time or origin” (such as a sacred past) or “time preference” (such as a preference for past, present, or future). Wariboko proposes a third way, redefining temporal orientation as a break or clearing in time between the past and the future—a kairos event. He goes on to say that understanding how members of a sociocultural group understand time is essential to understanding how they see themselves and their moral sources.Wariboko speaks of temporal orientation in terms of “time gaps,” contending that freedom and new beginnings are found within these gaps. Suggesting that these gaps are important to the process of defining subjectivity—since human beings live in a time-defined gap between birth and death—he coins the term “chronomethics” to refer to a new methodology where ethics is studied [End Page 213] through the lens of temporal orientation with attention to the analysis of cultural forms.Wariboko provides an exemplar of this methodology by doing an in-depth analysis of the Kalabari community of the Niger Delta in southern Nigeria. Through the use of ethnography, Wariboko explores politics, religious imagination, apocalypticism, and the philosophy of history in Kalabari beliefs and practices—setting African studies in dialogue with Western philosophy and theology. Here, and throughout the book, he draws heavily on the work of Hannah Arendt in his analysis.Although this ethnographic analysis makes an important contribution to ethical reflection, it is not without problems. Wariboko focuses almost exclusively on the chiefs of the Kalabari community, using both male language and male concepts. When Wariboko moves to a discussion of traditional Kalabari religion, he speaks mainly of the male or neuter aspect of God (which is called So, or so) and only briefly mentions the female aspect (Teme-órú). This leaves the reader to wonder whether the actors and agents Wariboko refers to include women. In sum, his descriptive analysis of Kalabari culture lacks a critique of patriarchy, which should be present in any analysis that seeks to make a contribution to Christian ethics.Perhaps the most significant contribution of the book is found in its chapter on imagination. Here Wariboko examines the ways in which the Kalabari people imagine their own society and construct a moral imagination. He pays significant attention to African conceptions of community and the ways in which individuals relate to their communities. Although Wariboko contributes an important original voice to this dialogue, this voice could be strengthened by incorporating the voices of other African philosophers and theologians rather than relying primarily on Western sources in his analysis of Kalabari culture.The book concludes by relating the newly proposed methodology (and to some extent the ethnography) to concrete applications within the realm of economic development. Here Wariboko focuses on the “kairos-ordering of society,” arguing that economic development will only be attained when the state maintains the rules of just conduct, nurtures kairos, develops human capabilities, embraces pluralism, and uses social practices to disperse knowledge. Although this final section is brief, it invites further reflection by delineating how temporal orientation could be used as a new methodology for Christian ethics. [End Page 214]Melissa BrowningLexington Theological SeminaryCopyright © 2012 The Society of Christian Ethics... (shrink)

continent. 2.3 (2012): 218–223 Vijay Prashad. Arab Spring, Libyan Winter . Oakland: AK Press. 2012. 271pp, pbk. $14.95 ISBN-13: 978-1849351126. Nearly a decade ago, I sat in a class entitled, quite simply, “Corporations,” taught by Vijay Prashad at Trinity College. Over the course of the semester, I was amazed at the extent of Prashad’s knowledge, and the complexity and erudition of his style. He has since authored a number of classic books that have gained recognition throughout the world. The Darker (...) Nations , a peoples’ history of the Third World, sent defibrillating shockwaves through an academic world that had almost forgotten the epic scope and historic dignity of the non-aligned movement and post-colonial struggles. In his recent, award-winning work, Arab Spring, Libyan Winter , Prashad delves into his capacious knowledge of the Third World to excavate the discourses and narratives surrounding the upheavals of 2011. “Revolutions have no specific timetable,” states Prashad in the opening line of this exciting and provocative look at contemporary events. Instantly, an atmosphere of suspense emerges. The reader is alerted to the problem of history. Does the making of history then involve a suspension of historical time, or is it a continuous narrative structure into which events must eventually be integrated? Arab Spring, Libyan Winter shows that the answer to the question, “How is history made?” lies just as easily in the asking. The first half of the book works through the events that transpired to bring about the explosive popular uprisings of Arab Spring: Tunisia and Egypt, Yemen and Bahrain. But the events are not put together in a cohesive, chronological fashion. Using an uncommonly gripping style more akin to the folk-story motif of the djeli than to traditionally Orientalist academia, Prashad suspends a given situation, points out its components, and traces back the characters and genealogies that define each link before resuming a narrative. Every moment is an end to itself, and an origin of something different. Thus, the making of history becomes the suspension of its own progress, it’s catastrophic 'stability,' in a process of differentiation through inclusion. Empirically, one might suggest that history is a condition of time, and by extension, of the subject, but history is also an eminent producer of the Subject and her concept of time through memory and narrative. Hence, history is often overdetermined by a dominant narrative of the sovereign. The apparently chaotic composition of Prashad’s historicity is, then, an interstitial morphology of resistance. It illustrates that the time to act for the revolutionary lies in the gaps within the dominant historical realities. It points out the sorties of signifiers constituting nothing in the obliterated ruins of history. Through such illuminations, Arab Spring, Libyan Winter breaks through “the surface of history” to elaborate revolution’s snapping synapses, exploding interruptions and breaches, connecting flows. Messianic Politics It is tempting to think, 'History is either singular, or it is diffuse. It is either one coherent factual narrative, or it is comprised of the aletheia of the multitude.' Yet the reader finds Prashad examining the structure of history on multiple levels. For Prashad, world history is shaped by geographically defined political movements, such as communism or national liberation, with historical agents like the working class for the former and the nationalist militant for the latter. Religion, however, is another matter: “Religion has an unshakable eschatology which a post-utopian secular politics lacks.” Within the telos of religion, there appears on the horizon the image of Benjamin’s thoughts on messianic time—time as “a small fissure in the continuous catastrophe,” a break with history, may contain an ultimate redemption of the human beyond the political power struggle. Succoring the split between geo-political and utopian-religious (messianic) time in the context of Arab Spring, Prashad indicates that the base of “the deep desire and commitment to some form of democracy” is forged by the affinity between eschatological Islamist politics with the People. To think about the Subject of messianic time in the context of the lack of a “coherent timetable” for emancipatory politics, it is perhaps best to return to the modern tradition of Martin Luther King, Jr., whose prefigurative blending of liberation theology and emancipatory politics became most important during his works of 1963, the climactic year of “The Letter from a Birmingham Jail,” the March on Washington, and the bombing of the 16th Street Baptist Church. In “The Letter,” King states the point bluntly: Frankly, I have yet to engage in a direct-action campaign that was “well timed” in view of those who have not suffered unduly from the disease of segregation. For years now I have heard the word “wait!” It rings in the ear of every Negro with piercing familiarity. This “Wait” has almost always meant ‘Never.” We must come to see, with one of our distinguished jurists, that “justice too long delayed is justice denied.” The timing of rebellious action must not be a part of history. It must change history. The kairos appears spontaneous and untimely in its convulsive, shocking presence, yet it is, deeper still, a path, a longue durée , forged through diligent and rigorous praxis. King put a finer point on the path of historic liberation in his declaration in his 1963 speech at Western Michigan University: “[T]ime is neutral.... Somewhere along the way we must see that time will never solve the problem alone but that we must help time. Somewhere we must see that human progress never rolls in on the wheels on inevitability. It comes through the tireless efforts and the persistent work of dedicated individuals who are willing to be co-workers with God. Without this hard work, time itself becomes an ally of the insurgent and primitive forces of irrational emotionalism and social stagnation. We must always help time and realize that the time is always right to do right.” Time, then, exists in “the neutral,” while action must turn to the kairos , not only of taking time, but taking the right time. By turning our relation to time into kairos , we move time from its context within history to a duration between histories—the longue dure?e of Messianic time. The implementation of neutrality in this context suggests a broad space of time to extend through the valley of positive and negative. In Roland Barthes’s lectures from 1978, the neutral takes place in this minimal distance of non-conflict that exists outside of two extremes. It is, in the words of Maurice Blanchot, “the non-general, the non-generic, as well as the non-specific.” For Blanchot, the neutrality of time permeates life as death, impassive and beyond control; such is the neutrality of messianic time, which permeates the charge of history, changing the "I" into the "one." The neutrality of time therefore implicates history in a case against extremism, showing that the work of the radical is not to tend to any particular side, but to have the time to navigate through the terrible terrain of history by altering its course, its patterns and rhythms of movement, connection, sociality. Hence, one does not simply “make history,” one alters the course of history in accordance to “the right time.” The historical path toward emerging power is transmitted as a gesture to the outside of history, against history; a gesture as simple as reaching out. Thus a counterhistory, to use Foucault’s term, is brought forward as the guide of time past a point of no return, a Rubicon, the point where the normal path of history falls to the past. The subject, who must be the only true agent of history, facilitates time through helpfulness, and both the Subject and her history become decentered in relation to one another. Yet history negates the neutrality of time. As Barthes discloses, although the neutral is the “thought and practice of the nonconflictual, it is nevertheless bound to assertion, to conflict, in order to make itself heard.” Engaged with history, time is charged with a destiny, and becomes an opposition. As Prashad insists, “For Arab lands, the events of early 2011 were not the inauguration of a new history, but the continuation of an unfinished struggle that is a hundred years old.” The emergence of the Subject during Arab Spring did not conceive of a new history, but changed the path of history toward a different destiny. “Historical grievances combined with inflationary pressures now met with the subjective sense that victory might be at hand—this was not simply a protest to scream into the wind, but a protest to actually remove autocrats from their positions of authority. The facts of resistance had given way to the expectation of revolutionary change.” The negativity of this charge toward “revolutionary destiny” rendered control, as a positive force, seriously lacking. The lack of control lies in the problem that the Subject is not totally detemporalized or timeless, but untimely in her presence. The Subject is untimely, because her work is visionary, and it is only through such visionary work that the Rubicon can be crossed. Still, the crossing of this border is haunted by anxiety over an impending disaster that lays in wait. It is only through the form of what Benjamin calls divine violence, captivated not with the justice of the means, but the ends—the transformation of history—that a revelation of history’s traumatic foundations can be liberated, and patterns and rhythms of time developed throughout obscured traditions awakened. In this situation, the Subject appears to be outside of right, but setting the state to rights. Because her position is correct, in-so-far as the rebelling subject rebels due to a lack of recognition, her representation appears outside of the norm, which is mistaken as right. Therefore, such visionary work must be carried out through obscured traditions, underground, away from the surveillance of empire. Explaining his method from the start along the lines of Marx’s metaphor of the mole, Prashad insists, “It is the burrowing that is essential, not simply the emergence onto the surface of history.” Arab Spring, Libyan Winter is a book on uncharted networks of time, spread out over the 252 pages like an elaborate spider’s web of passages intertwining with and overwhelming the machinery of the state. Although untimely, Arab Spring was not a flash in the pan, or a Facebook or Twitter revolution. Prashad notes that the government’s suspension of these tools led to further radicalism by furthering communications through face-to-face encounters. In existential terms, Arab Spring might be thought of as a revolution of Being over techne , an uprising of the unchartable, infinite potential of the Other. The name of this Other is found in Chance. The faith of the revolution lies in the proper decentering of the subject, its giving to the Other of time, for only with respect to time does history actually appear on the horizon of the subject, rather than as an imposition. This time of historical agency appears as a moment when anything can happen—a revolutionary truth event where everything comes into question while being realized in its Otherness as a community of the people begins anew in the streets amidst discourse, friendship, reconfigurations of hegemony, and a becoming of a constituent power. Throwing a wrench into the gears of the “cobwebbed tradition” of Orientalism, the decentering of history in Arab Spring, Libyan Winter is a defining quality of its impassioned revolutionary cry. But perhaps the most paradigmatic points of the book emerge from the unexpected voices. To make the connection between the particular manifestations of revolutionary demands to the general historic terms of revolution, Prashad quotes an anonymous young Egyptian in Tahrir Square, who reminds us, “[T]he French Revolution took a very long time so the people could eventually get their rights.” Far from timelessness, the historicization of Arab Spring must exist precisely within the most uncanny appearance of time, as something that does not appear to come from the natural state of time as we know it, but in arriving has completely transformed the way that we understand time. Strange Monsters Revolution is never as simple as a revolt from below against a rusting structure of elites trying to remain in power. As with the French Revolution, Arab Spring consisted of complex familial ties, outside interests, and religious factions fighting alongside, often in awkward juxtaposition to, liberals, working class parties, farmers, and students. It is perhaps because of this historically difficult and incongruous composition that the Arabic word for revolution is thawra , referring to the image of the bull, or thawr , which has religious significance as a pagan deity for the Ancient Semitic tribes and Cartheginians. If Daniel Guérin was correct in saying, “Anarchism and Marxism drink from the same spring,” then it is quite a different oasis that drove the thirsty beast of revolution through what Prashad calls, “the Libyan labyrinth.” Recalling Bataille’s Acéphale, the intestinal labyrinth gains significance as the mode of metabolism and rumination in which, “(the Acephale) has lost himself, loses me with him, and in which I discover myself as him, in other words, as a monster.” Unraveling the discourse of the revolution, the flows of power and hegemony—from Qaddafi’s nationalist coup in 1969 to the wars with Chad from 1978 to 1987, the neoliberal reforms of the 1990s to, finally, the War on Terror—we find that the metabolic process of Libyan Winter ends in the production of oil. In a process of what Prashad calls “involution,” Qaddafi’s bellicose policies, along with his attempts to nationalize Islam together with oil, mutated the source of his power, turning his house against itself. Already a divided nation, with its two major cities on opposite geographic sides of the country, Libya became split between two opposed political powers—liberal reformists and staunch nationalists—as Qaddafi’s political disengagement manifested through what can only be described in psychoanalytic terms as a recursive passage a l’act (mysteriously calling Wikipedia “Kleenex,” declaring that opponents drank hallucinogens with their instant coffee, and so on). Prashad declares, “The mercurial style that Qaddafi adopted was not about his personality alone, but also a leader’s natural response to a system that relied upon power brokers whose own loyalty… did not have any ideological commitment to the system.” As in the case of other nations during Arab Spring, the true expression of revolt was an outward exposition of what had inwardly been happening in microcosmic societies throughout the realm—from indigenous tribes to political parties, for a century, the people, partly motivated by (and in resistance to) economic impositions of development, had been changing the traditional social compositions and participating in what Ruth Wilson Gilmore calls, “the relative autonomy of the movement from the leaders.” It was this empowerment of political reconfigurations taking place under the context of new democratic assemblages that shocked the elites and evoked such a powerful response. Unlike Qaddafi’s awkward policy choices and rants, real acts of power from the West were clear and decisive. Prashad sets the stages of war and diplomacy, far removed from the deserts, mountains, and cities that forged the backdrop of popular politics. Taking place under the now-classic architecture of the “four pillars” of US interests—oil, the War on Terror, Israel, and the circumvention of Iranian hegemony—we find elites rubbing elbows in “Heliopolist cocktail parties and hushed conferences in Kasr al-Ittihadiya” as well as the Concorde-Lafayette hotel in Paris, which provides the setting for a meeting of anti-Qaddafi figures consolidating their power. These scenes are buttressed with the careful portraiture of key historical actors. As Prashad brings the stage of history to life, we find the diplomats and liberals like Frank Wisner, whose career has brought him from Enron in the late 1990s to the Obama Administration, under the aegis of which he was meeting with Mubarak about military support during Arab Spring. We spy the provocateurs, for instance, gauche cavalier , Bernard Henri-Levy, who telephones Sarkozy from Benghazi about the need for more NATO air strikes. We follow the rebel military establishment as it suffers mysterious deaths and even more mysterious assents (like that of apparent CIA cohort, Khalifa Hifter). In each of these intriguing characters, we find different representations of the security state biopolitique: an oil-injected reification that drives Arab Spring from the resentment of rising food prices to the brink of implosion in Libyan Winter. Reminiscent of the scenes of Cold War soirées represented in old Bond films, the aristocratic fight for oil against democracy that was Libyan Winter presents a harsh truth that the new global crisis is simply the continuation of the old history: the global exploitation of capitalism waged against the imagination of the people. As Benjamin laments, “The labyrinth is the right path for the person who always arrives early enough at his destination. This destination is the marketplace.” Yet, “(t)he labyrinth is the habitat of… a humanity (a class) which does not want to know where its destiny is taking it.” Thus, the labyrinth leads, like the desert, only further into itself. As Blanchot explains, “The desert is even less certain than the world; it is never anything but the approach to the desert.” Only the visionary can take time out of the involution toward oblivion. It is here, in this approach to and escape from history, that we find ourselves within Benjamin’s Golgotha, Blanchot’s desert: A space of indeterminate uncertainty where we become familiar only with our own exile. Blanchot writes, “For the moderated and moderate man, the room, the desert, and the world are strictly determined places. For the man of the desert and the labyrinth, devoted to the error of a journey necessarily a little longer than his life, the same space will be truly infinite, even if he knows that it is not, all the more so since he knows it.” The desert, as allegory, provides an eschatology, a mortality in the destiny of Arab Spring. But any allegory of nature might lead to a labyrinthine eschatology (for example, in Bachelard, the forest presents "a limitless world"); the prescience of the untimely is always an uncanny acceptance of the infinite within the finite—the outside of what is understood. Transgenerational and occupied with the image of the future, the untimely makes otherness its home as it proceeds toward liberation. In the work of helping time navigate this dangerous passage of history, Prashad illustrates that the more violent break with history may have occurred in the peaceable struggles of Tahrir Square, and not in the military clashes of Qaddafi with his former Generals who defected to the CIA and NATO countries. It might be possible to suggest, then, that in the case of Tunisia and Egypt, the historical subject of the people was drawn together in a Dionysian dance of different rhythms in the marvelous realm of the ancients, while we fear that the case of Libya suggests an Apollonian future where time, itself, may lay dying under the machinic hand of history. The properly Nietzschean inversion would follow: time is dead, for history has killed it. Yet, if time is dead, struck down in Golgotha, exposed in the desert, mauled by the thawra , it is only in the present sense that it is rendered impossible outside of the context into which the untimely has thrown us. Thus, if history becomes an art of revolution, life as being-towards-death (death as the provocation of the neutrality of time) becomes what Benjamin calls “the allegory of resurrection” through the glorious ruins of history. Prashad ends his work with a rousing finale: “The time of the impossible has presented itself. In Egypt, where the appetite for the possibilities of the future are greatest, the people continue to assert themselves into Tahrir Square and other places, pushing to reinvigorate a Revolution that must not die… For them the slogan is simple: Down with the Present. Long live the Future. May it be so.&rdquo. (shrink)

Paul Tillich believes that the sacred and human history undergo a parallel development, which is ‘punctuated’ from time to time by the ‘breaking’ of the former within the latter during moments of special significance, kairoi; these become “centers” of human history. Such a ‘center’ must not be comprehended either in terms of quantity, or as a midpoint between past and future, or as a particular moment, but as something that makes coherent the manifestation of the Kingdom of God within the (...) human collective existence. One of the understanding the German Theologian has concerning human history is that it is a succession of such ‘centers’. This is an ‘evolutionary’ view within the history of ideas, and a topic I dealt with in my work. (shrink)