Dreamtime, Post-Structuralism, and the LOST finale (Spoiler-Alert)
In case you did not read the title… SPOILER ALERT. If you have not watched LOST and plan on doing so in the future, turn around now!
In television’s critical circles, nothing is more hotly debated than the values and/or aimlessness of one of the industry’s most important offerings, LOST. I must confess that I have spent large chunks of time watching, preparing to watch, or investigating the show via the internet and I must say, I am satisfied now that it’s finally over. Many are disappointed by an apparent lack of scientific answers to some of the pseudo-scientific mysteries presented (i.e. the casimir effect, mathematical principles behind the numbers, etc.). However, I think they might be missing the point.
Since the emphasis put on Locke’s “walkabout,” I have suspected that the show was infused with the Aboriginal Australian religious concept of ‘dreamtime.’ The best explanation of dreamtime that I can make in such a small space is the notion that two realities, an objective, almost scientific reality, and a spiritual symbolic reality exist simultaneously. Spiritually adept individuals can navigate and experience this dreamtime, typically unavailable to the average human. In fact, early on, I theorized that the island was just that, dreamtime, and used the origin of the plane as the most obvious clue. While the show never confirmed (or flatly denied) my theory, I had pretty much abandoned it by season 4.
However, upon viewing the finale where the importance of ‘flash-sideways’ sequences were explained, (if you are not a LOST viewer, I would recommend not reading further, not only because of spoilers but because my analysis is wrou
ght with references that would seem nonsensical to the non-viewer) the concept of dreamtime keeps bubbling back to the surface, especially considering Christian Shepherd’s assertion that sideways flashes are outside of time. Again, nothing is overtly confirmed or denied, and I could cite countless reasons in defense of my theory, but in summation, the mysterious happenings in the end greatly effect the spiritual formation of the individuals on the island. Perhaps the island can be seen as a “thin place” (to bring in ancient Celtic spiritual understanding) that separates reality and the outside of time nature of dreamtime. I could explain these concepts further, but I will wait to gauge if there is any interest for such expounding before I do so.
However, this brings me to the second point I am hoping to make, and more importantly, why I find LOST to not only be brilliant (despite the rage and disappointment experienced by sci-fi fan boys and girls) but the most philosophically relevant television show of my generation. I have in previous posts mentioned my affinity for post-structuralism and I have found that no other television series has activated that affinity more successfully. The crux of post-structuralism is the need for localized interpretation of texts and the abandonment of meta-narratives. Although LOST is ripe with narratives and plot-lines, the conclusion and overarching themes are predominately vague and open-ended. Conversely however, the pieces are concrete. We are told that a sequence of numbers matters, but we’re never fully told why. We know that the characters Jacob and the Man in Black are vitally important, perhaps to the very existence of the cosmos, but again we’re never fully told why. This has enraged many viewers but I think these vagaries are in fact central the show’s success. I can assume that the show is about dreamtime, as predicated by the fact that one of my favorite characters, Locke, is put on the island due to his desire to go on a walkabout, an essential rite of aboriginal spirituality. However, many other theories could presumably hold water. Furthermore, this diversity of hypotheses is not only accepted, but was probably the entire purpose of the show as evidenced by the countless hours that fans logged expounding upon their own theories. And this is probably the show’s most valuable lesson: a preponderance of local interpretations need not be widdled down to one in order for satisfaction to be achieved. Similarly, the meaning of the show can be individualized in accordance to each character’s perception of the island. For Jack it can be seen as a religious conversion. For Ben, the island can serve as a metaphor for Christ’s redemptive grace, especially if seen through the theological assumption that there is a definitive change in God’s nature between the Old and New Testaments (a view I categorically reject, but that still illustrates my point). In citing these two particular examples, one can further see my particular local interpretation through a Christian lens. All this being said, the show—or in the language of post-structuralism—the text, makes very few claims of authorial intent. The authors are seeking to create an infinite number of shows, each intimately linked to the viewer.
The Universality of God, the Relativism of Humanity
By Andrew Dyrli Hermeling
So I have recently picked up Karl Heim’s Christian Faith and Natural Science: The creative encounter between 20th century physics and Christian existentialism. (As an aside, my wise father-in-law, upon seeing me with that particular book in hand chided me for eng, aging in such ‘light’ reading and advised that I ‘wait for the movie.’) Admittedly I am still only in the introduction, but his initial thesis gave me pause and put the old cogs in motion. To paraphrase, the questions engaged by early theologians who existed within a pre-copernican paradigm focused on humanity’s role in God’s story, as if humanity was the actor on stage, the cosmos the lighting rig illuminating our performance, and God as the director back-stage, which according to this analogy would serve as heaven, outside of the scene. However, in light of discoveries and undeniable assumptions about the vastness of the universe and the relative physical insignificance of humanity within this universe, existential questions undoubtedly must change.
Despite the wordiness of this summation, I think most people today would acknowledge that theology, especially theology that seeks to be scientifically and culturally relevant, must acknowledge the infinitesimally microscopic nature of our existence within a creation so vast that its sheer size can shake one’s faith. However, I am additionally reading an anthropological case study by C. W. M. Hart entitled The Tiwi of Northern Australia, which brings to mind a similar vastness in the realm of cultural diversity. Now, it is no secret that much of my thought regarding history and theology has a post-structuralist slant, but when one truly thinks critically about the full diversity of humanity, and not just the diversity of our inner-cities (not to downplay the importance of such cultural studies), it becomes clear that the assumed Western ‘meta-narrative’ cannot include a culture so far removed from the dialogue of Western philosophy or theology, the aboriginal Tiwi being just one example. And this presents us with an uncomfortable theological question. If we can prove that meta-narratives do not truly exist, and I believe the Tiwi are a solid example of why they do not, then what are we as the Kingdom of God left with? Just describing people of faith using such unifying language like Kingdom, Church, or even my previously mentioned Ubuntu, works against the theories of post-structuralism, but I find that within this paradox a theological salience that buttresses my faith as opposed to eroding it.
I will once again refer back to what is possibly my favorite verse of scripture, Galatians 3:28: “There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male or female; for all of you are one in Christ.” In the same vein, a similar verse might prove even more helpful, Colossians 3:11: “In that renewal there is no longer Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave and free; but Christ is all and in all!“ If you will allow me some theological latitude, I want to draw a parallel between the shift in biblical theology and the philosophical shift toward post-structuralism. The narrative of the Jewish people, the chosen people, the only people directly given the Law from God was expressed through the physical sign of circumcision. Their relationship with God, their faith, and their definitions of themselves were all bound into circumcision. However, the ministry of Christ negates the need for circumcision, for being chosen is no longer ethnic or cultural but instead becomes multiethnic and multicultural.
This leads us to an essential fallacy of Western theology, that the specificity of Western theology is an essential element of faith. I think it is useful to see Western theology within the context of circumcision. The Jewish converts did not let go of circumcision, but the Church did not necessitate circumcision as a requisite for faith, as told in the 15th chapter of the Acts of the Apostles. Which brings us back to the Tiwi, who in the case of this argument is only one example. Does God require an adherance to a set orthodoxy? Must the Church adopt one meta-narrative? To what extent must the Tiwi abandon cultural norms and adopt new ones? How much of the biblical narrative is open for local interpretation? Just as the vastness of the universe required Heim to ask new existential questions, the vastness of human diversity and the incompatibility of personal experiences and meta-narratives requires a new set of questions and possibly a new requirement for us raised within the Western Church, acceptance of the uncircumcised within our world. Furthermore, if we truly believe God is God universally, then we must similarly allow God to truly be universal, which may necessitate a diversity of definitions and contexts within which God exists.
I take it back! I take it back!
An apology to the Church by Andrew Dyrli Hermeling
I have been thinking about my last post and I think I was probably wrong. I was operating under the assumption that post-modern church movements were in fact post-modern, but as I think about it, they really aren’t. Churches that have accepted elements of post-modernism have not accepted the central tenants. They may be willing to be skeptical but they are not ironic. They may accept deconstruction as a reasonable tool for exegesis, but they would not, on the whole, accept the ‘death of the author,’ since the church still maintains that in some way or another God is the author. But here’s the kicker, performatism, which I urged the church to embrace a little more quickly than it embraced post-modernism, is probably a better label for the faith of the Emerging Church et al. Performatism advocates a “new sincerity” in opposition to the cynicism of the past epoch, which is exactly what the ‘post-modern’ church does. It would seem that in teasing the Church for its ‘johnny-come-lately’ status was a bit unfair. So I am revising my opinion, and with great joy replacing it with a far more flattering and optimistic one. Just as science is beginning to admit that a theistic theory of the beginning to the universe not only holds water, but might be the best explanation, it would seem that art and literature might actually be following the Church’s lead. Maybe this faith thing, this belief in some larger meaning, some ‘transcendent’ truth, however ethereal, is worth investing in. So, I’m sorry Church for making fun of you. You were right, I was wrong. You really are hip and edgy. Please forgive me.
The Performatist Church
By Andrew Dyrli Hermeling
Anyone who has lived within the Christian sub-culture for an extended length of time understands that Christians can be a little late on the uptake (one word: ska). As a student at a Christian college in the 21st century, debate raged about the interaction of the Church and postmodernism. Are the two compatible? Is scriptural infallibility compromised by postmodern theories of text and context? Can faith survive the dizzying descent of the hermeneutic spiral and the “death of the author,” especially considering the tightly held belief that the biblical text is the word of God? Postmodern Christian apologists have long sited both biblical examples (such as Jesus’ deconstruction of the Torah) and historical examples (the validity of individual interpretation as advocated by Protestant reformers) in order to show that not only are Christianity and postmodernism compatible, but that in fact the Church must become postmodern. The postmodern Christian movement, the Emerging Church, relies less on textual authority because of its propensity towards both intentional and unintentional linguistic perversion, and instead emphasizes personal story and experience. This is all well in good and perhaps in many ways overdue, except for one problem; many philosophers have already begun claiming the end of postmodernism.
One such post-postmodernist movement is called Performatism, as coined by Raoul Eshelman in his essay, Performatism, or the End of Postmodernism. While deconstruction remains an appropriate tool for analyzing the text and its influential contexts, Performatism maintains that the non-definability of existence and the resulting nihilism of postmodernism was unsustainable. More simply, if there is no truth, you cannot say so dogmatically, the inescapable paradox that haunts all of postmodern thought. Furthermore, nothing is more tiring for the soul than a cynical, uncompromising philosophical and artistic devotion to the ironic. Very few people can listen to Bright Eyes and still find life satisfactory. Within Performatism, an individual finds truth, sometimes against the better judgments of postmodernism, through a sincere action. To state it a differently, the truth is in the action, regardless of the level of evidence. In many ways, this must seem like a resounding victory for the Church, because is that not a definition of faith? But let’s analyze a little bit more before we get too excited.
St. Paul’s repetition of faith as “foolishness” in the beginning of his first letter to Corinth seems to make the foolishness of sincerity in such a nihilistic age a nice match. But this does not make theological old heads any more relevant. Performatism does not seek to return textual authority to its once hallowed perch, but instead holds that an authentic and opaque act is at least better than the eternal descent into the maelstrom of postmodern cynicism.
This is a boon for worship directors, who seek to activate authenticity within a congregation. However, this only further emphasizes the obsolescence of the biblical scholar, as faith would exist despite the “unbelievability” of the text. Orthodoxy is less important and is replaced by the authenticity of the seeking. The novel Life of Pi by Yann Martel (cited by Eshelman as representative of performatism) venerates the quest to know God at the expense of orthodoxy. The popular phrase “Love God, love your neighbor, nothing else matters,” could be seen as a central tenant of the Performatist Church. But most important would be the sincerity of the act of worship.
Performatism could become the energy for a whole new church movement (and it would seem that in many ways, the Emerging Church is performatist without even knowing it) but let’s not reinvent the wheel. The Episcopal Church (of which–for the sake of transparency–I am a member) theologically asserts that “praying shapes believing;” that the common act of worship, as prescribed by the Book of Common Prayer, appropriately comes before the full development of faith, not as the result of an act of conversion. From where I sit, this sounds rather performatist to me; that a sincere yet foolish act of belief is all that is necessary to put the brakes on the crazy train of the futility of postmodernism. And despite the evidence to the contrary, this can be the key to understanding the transcendence and very real nature of faith in God.
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