Speculative Grace: Nevertheless

A few more thoughts this week as part of my ongoing, speculative experiment of porting grace into a non-theistic context.

In a non-theistic context, rather than appearing as that which excuses us from the need to perpetually address the essential resistance that marks the real, grace appears in the work of addressing that resistance not as an obstacle to be removed but as the substance of grace itself.

Rather than being a kind of coupon for getting into an endless, frictionless, (and heavenly!) weekend spa, grace saves us instead for the only thing we have ever (or will ever) have: the nitty-gritty resistance of the here and now.

This week, I want to explore the idea that one key to addressing this resistance graciously is the ability to say "nevertheless."

1. As I've elaborated at length in previous posts (see here in particular), in a nontheistic context we might describe grace in the following way: 

Grace: whatever is given.

2. In relation to this conception of grace, I've also previously argued that we might understand sin along the following lines. 

Sin: a selective reception of what is given, a desire to decide for ourselves what is (has been or will be) given.

3. Further, we might then define salvation in the following way:

Salvation: an affirmative reception of whatever is given as being the grace that it is.

4. It is in this connection that I want to argue that one key to this affirmative reception of what is given as the grace that it is a subjective disposition characterized by the adverb "nevertheless."

5. In the KJV, the adverb "nevertheless" (here, a felicitous rendition of the simple Greek term plen) plays a pivotal role in Jesus' passion (i.e., his redemptive relation to suffering/resistance). We might even go so far as to see it being the hinge on which Jesus' transubstantiation of suffering into liberation turns. We pick up with Jesus in the garden of Gethsemane. While his disciples sleep,

"[Jesus] went a little further, and fell on his face, and prayed, saying, O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me: nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt." (Matt 26:39, emphasis mine)

6. What does this "nevertheless" do? What does it accomplish? What is its relation to grace? The "nevertheless" affirmatively disposes Jesus in a non-selective manner toward whatever is given without rendering him passive.

7. It's my argument that the reception of grace as something that saves (rather than damns) depends on the cultivation of this same disposition: nevertheless.

8. Let's take a look at a couple of examples of how I think this plays out. First example: something is given that I do not want (e.g., I become sick, I lose my job, etc.). 

A sinful response to this "bad" given would fail to affirmatively receive it. I could fail to affirmatively receive it either (1) by lamenting it, wallowing in self-pity, etc., or (2) by refusing to acknowledge my sickness, lack of employment, etc. In the first case, I've received what is given, but not actively. In the second case, I've been active but not receptive.

I may have a legitimate preference in a given situation for what should be given (as does Jesus in the garden), but this preference must not be decisive with respect to my relation to the given. To the degree that preference (by way of craving or aversion) is decisive, I'm sinful (i.e., miserable).

Rather, the key is this "nevertheless": if what is given is not "preferable" or "desirable" I must nevertheless receive it as what is given, see it for what it is, receive it as whatever kind of grace it is.

Fun/pleasure will always be a function of what happens to be given. The peace that passes understanding (i.e., joy) is a function of how what happens to be given is received.

The operator "nevertheless" functions as a regulator of this "how," a regulator that detaches grace from parochial preference and universalizes a space for peace and joy.

9. Fair enough, this may be a great way of handling life's disappointments. Everyone needs help with this kind of thing.

Second example: something is given that I do want (e.g., health, a better job, a banana split, etc.). 

Here, the same holds as in the first example. If I selectively affirm (rather than selectively reject as in the previous example) what is given, the result will still be misery even though I've gotten what I wanted. 

It is not the given that is problematic, but the selective mode of reception that is ruinous. This selectivity is just as ruinous when it comes to things that I want as it is when it comes to things that I don't want.

Salvation depends on our not only being able to say "this isn't what I wanted, nevertheless . . . " but also "this is what I wanted, nevertheless . . . "

10. What's wrong with our popular conceptions of grace?

In my estimation the problem is rooted in the selective asymmetry with which our "nevertheless" is applied. We want to be able to turn the "bad" things into something positive with a "nevertheless," but we aren't willing to allow that "nevertheless" to symmetrically detach grace from the selectivity of preference when "good" things come.

11. Say there is a little girl who wants a new baby doll but doesn't have one. The little girl is miserable because what is given is not a new baby doll.

Enter grace: the benevolent father says, "You don't have enough money for the baby doll, nevertheless . . . " 

What is the popular conception of grace? The popular conception of grace is associated with whatever fills in the blank at the end of the sentence: "You don't have enough money for the baby doll, nevertheless I'll buy it for you."

What's the problem? The problem comes when we identify the salvific work of grace with whatever fills in the blank rather than with the "nevertheless" itself.

We can use the baby doll example as an example of grace because it uses the correct operator (the "nevertheless") to denote the work of grace, but only if we are also willing to apply the formula in the opposite case so that it becomes clear that grace is centered in the nevertheless, not in the variable object of selective desire/aversion.

"I have a new baby doll (just like I wanted!), nevertheless . . . "

12. Salvation is freedom from the selective tyranny of our preferences (even when these preferences are legitimate), not the fulfillment of them (even - especially! - when they are fulfilled).

Comments

[Austin]

What is the difference between this view of speculative grace and the Stoic doctrine that attempts to delineate the good, the bad, and the indifferent, by appealing to fate? It seems to me your position does a very similar thing to the Stoics, for who "assent" is withheld from our representations, good and bad. What distinguishes your position?

[Adam Miller]

Austin,

These are good questions. A couple of quick Friday night responses follow:

1. I think you're right that there are some important practical similarities with Stoicism. In fact, one of my earliest posts in this series deals entirely with Epictetus.

2. That said, it seems to me that a Stoic metaphysics remains essentially theistic.

3. I think that there are some important ways in which Jesus' "nevertheless" does not coincide with simply "assenting" to fate. As I put it in this post, the "nevertheless" is a subjective disposition that both manages to receive whatever is given as the grace that it is without rendering the giftee passive in relation to that grace. This is, I think, an extremely important difference between what Jesus does and what might otherwise risk being a kind of quiescent quietism.

4. A final note. I'd argue that, in the end, Stoicism is probably closer to a model based on the "nevertheless" than one based on any straightforwardly fatalistic "assent."

[geoffrey holsclaw]

Adam,

Yes, I agree with Austin that this sound like a Stoic ethics, even if it is separated from a Stoic metaphysics (as you note).

However, it seems that the response of grace that you hope for is similar to that of belief in a providential God (at least the good varieties). Jesus owns his own preferences and dispositions, but surrenders himself to the gracious plan of God (I'm thinking of a more Reformed formulation here). It seems that the response you are looking for springs equally from your non-theistic model of grace as it would from a theistic one.

It seems that "nevertheless" can't be a true distinction for non-theistic grace because what is just given here is the same as what is given by Fate and what is given by an providential God.

My question is how does non-theistic grace account for a striving/hope for the good, or happiness. A main break between Stoicism and Christianity is that happiness itself becomes a gift rather than an accomplishment of self-discipline.

[Adam Miller]

Geoffrey,

Good questions. I'll venture some responses.

1. Is this notion of grace "similar to that of belief in a providential God (at least the good varieties)"? Yes, I think this is right. One of the aims of this experimental port of grace into a nontheistic context is simply to help us clarify what we mean by grace even in a theistic context. My hope is that there will be great deal that may be re-portable into theism.

2. Can the "nevertheless" be something that distinguishes a non-theistic grace from theistic forms of grace? As you mention earlier, I think it may at least be able to help us sort out "good varieties" of theistic grace from spiritually dangerous versions of theistic grace.

3. What about the difference between the "gift" and "self-discipline"? In the context of a nontheistic ontology (and this, I'd argue, is one of its clear strengths), I think the distinction loses traction. In a non-theistic ontology, there is no autonomous self that could simply claim responsibility for its own being disciplined. Here, discipline itself (which, I think, is unarguably essential for any spiritual path) arrives as a gift insofar as I become aware of the ways in which my "self" is itself split, looped, distributed, and given itself as a gift.

4. With respect to theism (and I pose this question in a recent post on decentering that you might take another look at), a key question has to do with whether or not this experience of grace in relation to the "nevertheless" is something that only applies to humans (and not to God) or whether God himself bears the resistance of the universe as itself a grace. I don't know that a theistic conception of God can allow for God himself to experience resistance as grace.

5. What about striving or hoping for the good? I think that this is precisely what the "nevertheless" enables. Slipping the knot of aversion/attachment, the nevertheless takes what is given as the gift that it is while also saying, "Yes, but nevertheless I hope and work and love and empty myself in compassion. Though I haven't received what I wanted, nevertheless I will love. And/or though I have received what I wanted, nevertheless I will love!"

6. If you have time, I'd be more than a little curious to hear some about how and/or where you (and Austin) would or wouldn't part ways with what I've outlined above. I don't have a good feel for where either or you are coming from in terms of your own thinking.