Emmanuel Levinas and John Wesley:

Sanctification in the Face of the Other

 

By Chad A. Maxson

 

Love does no harm to its neighbor.  Therefore love is the fulfillment of the law.

—Romans 13: 10.

 

 

Wesley’s Methodist revival came at just the right time for England.  Wesley’s message of holiness hit a country struggling with gross immorality like David smiting Goliath.  It seemed as if Western Christianity was momentarily taken aback by the bold proclamation that true holiness was not only possible in this life, but also expected of any who would take up the name ‘Christian’.  For a moment, a sinful world stopped and listened to the proclamation of this Oxford don turned field preacher, but only for a moment.  Today it seems only echoes of the hillside evangelist can be heard from our pulpits.  The doctrine has not changed, but times have.  Our busy world no longer has the time to listen to rustic echoes from a past era. 

 

Levinas began his studies as a student of Martin Heidegger, but during World War II became disillusioned at his mentor’s collaboration with the Nazi war effort.  This led Levinas to re-examine Heidegger’s basic philosophy and resulted in a turning point in Levinas’ own thought[1].  Levinas became very sensitive to the implicit power structure within philosophy and sought to challenge the basic assumption that Being provided the foundation for philosophy.  Rather than a metaphysics of ontology, Levinas sought to establish a metaphysics of ethics with the Other as the cornerstone of said metaphysic.  Levinas’ philosophy is one of transcendence and kenosis.  The Infinite—always beyond one’s grasp, always overflowing thought and always coming to us in the face of the Other.  Through the Other, Levinas insists, we find ourselves infinitely bound with a debt beyond our ability to pay.  This is the fundamental obligation that the Infinite establishes.  This is the foundation of ethics.

 

Levinas philosophy of ethics sounds suspiciously similar to the Christian notion of agape.  While Levinas does not use the term agape in this sense, I believe the application of this concept provides us with the tools we need to redefine Wesley’s doctrine of sanctification —to make it, not merely relevant, but, inescapable for a postmodern world.  This paper will seek to establish sanctification not as the negation of sin, but rather the fulfillment of the infinite obligation to love the Other.  It will further examine the manner in which this obligation is to be fulfilled and will argue that only by participating in the life and history of Jesus Christ is sanctification possible.  Several sections from Levinas’ Totality and Infinity will be examined and will be brought to bear on the social dynamics of Wesley’s doctrine of sanctification.  I want to humbly suggest that by emphasizing the communal elements of holiness we may find again that a lonely world pauses, just for a moment, to listen to the rhythms of agape proclaimed by a group of people called Wesleyans.

 

The Doctrine of the Other

 

To begin let me acknowledge that Levinas resisted using the term love to describe the obligation to the Other.  He believed this word was too intimate, too limiting, and would result in the limitation of one’s obligation to one’s small circle of friends[2].  However, I believe this concern can be averted if we harken to Kierkegaard’s insistence that love, understood as agape, overflows the notions of philo and eros—both being exclusive concepts[3].  Agape, Kierkegaard insisted, was all-inclusive, embracing everyone that I see[4].  Therefore with this careful distinction in mind, we will use the term ‘love’ to mean agape and in that sense to describe the ethical obligation to the Other.

 

In much the same way as Descartes, Levinas begins with the self first as an isolated individual struggling with its environment in order to establish identity and selfhood.  The self is established through the consummation of natural resources: food, water and energy.  The world is taken into the self’s possession to be used to satisfy the needs of the hedonist self[5].  At this point Levinas is still very much in line with Heidegger, but Levinas criticizes Heidegger for stopping there[6].  Only the atheist remains within hedonism.  By atheism Levinas means one who breaks with participation—one who derives one’s being from oneself, and not from its relationship with the Other[7].

 

For Descartes the ego is defined as an egocentric egonomy, wrapped up within its own small world.  It cannot rightfully conceive of another subject that does not originate inside itself, for that one who comes from outside oneself exceeds ones ability to comprehend (in the strict sense of the word).  Atheism is seemingly the only option for Descartes’ ego and that is why the appearance of the other is so radical!  The manifestation of the other destroys the horizon of the self’s egocentric monism by overflowing the ego’s capacity for cogito[8].  The other cannot be explained by Descartes’ little axiom and therefore remains somewhat of an enigma.  It is interesting that Levinas claims that the transcendence of the Other is “the sole ideatum of which there can be only an idea in us; it is infinitely removed from its idea, that is, exterior, because it is infinite[9].”  The idea of transcendence does not originate within the human self, but comes from outside, from the Other.  Without the appearance of the Other, there would be no concept of transcendence.

 

Prior to the appearance of the other the self remained dominant within its world.  It was spontaneous and free, without limit.  With the appearance of the Other, the self’s spontaneity is called into question.  Levinas calls this calling into question of my spontaneity ethics[10].  This ethical resistance, because it is ethical, is not violence, for ethics is fundamentally opposed to violence.  Because it is ethical it also overflows thought.  This is an idea that deserves attention.  Levinas claims that there is a difference between the ethical resistance to murder and the real resistance to murder.  By understanding that, for Levinas, ethics is more primitive even than ontology we can understand the ethical resistance to be more fundamental even than what is real[11].  The ethical resistance cannot be systematized or objectified by the mind for it is rooted in Infinity.  Ethical resistance is manifest in the naked and destitute face of the Other.  Levinas states that if the resistance were real rather than ethical, then “we would have a perception of it, with all that reverts to the subjective in perception.  We would remain within the idealism of a conscious struggle, and not in relationship with the Other[12].”  The ethical resistance stems from the face of the Other that appears before me and confronts me.  In the face of the Other I am confronted by that which is external to me, that which overflows my ability to think, that which resists me—this, he terms, the Infinite.  From the Infinite, which is manifest in the face of the Other, comes the ethical command: “Though shalt not commit murder.”

 

The ethical resistance of the Other resists my dominance precisely because the other is a surplus that does not fit into my egocentric world.  I cannot make the Other part of the Same[13].  Because of this the Other resists my powers, but not with greater power or greater force.  The face of the Other does not defy my power, but my very ability for power[14].  “Infinity presents itself as a face in the ethical resistance that paralyses my powers and from the depths of defenseless eyes rises firm and absolute in its nudity and destitution[15].”  The Infinite presents itself in vulnerability.  Its eyes shame my violence with their destitution.  I do not have the ability to comprehend the Other—to fit the Other into my little world—but I do have the ability to kill the Other.  By killing the Other I close the eyes of the one whose vulnerability is the source of my embarrassment.  The act of murder is an act of violence not only against the Other, but also against the very transcendence that the Other manifests.  It is taken for granted that this is a violence that ethics permits no human being, and thus, impossible. 

 

I find that in the resistance of the Other I am summoned to something beyond the Same—I am summoned to ethics.  So far ethics has been discussed negatively, as the prohibition to murder, but the positive side of ethics may be even more radical than the impossibility of murder.  Though the appearance of the Other limits my power and calls my spontaneity into question, it does no violence to me.  Rather than limiting my freedom by standing outside my comprehension, the Other establishes my freedom by promoting my goodness[16].  The appearance of the Other on my horizon obliges me to the Other with a limitless responsibility[17].  I am freed to recognize the one who surpasses me, the one who is before me.  I am accountable to this one and every law that exists exists to promote this accountability.  “I must feed my body and arrange my house in order to receive the foreigner knocking at my door; if I possess a home, it is not for me alone[18].”  The appearance of the Other calls forth from me a response.  That response is a recognition of the other.  It may involve giving to the Other or withholding from the Other.  The Other frees me to either give or refuse, but either way is the recognition that this one stands before me[19].  And ethics holds me accountable.  The Other cannot be ignored or overlooked “as Thrasymachus, irritated, tries to do, in the first book of the Republic (moreover without succeeding).  ‘To leave men without food is a fault that no circumstance attenuates[20].’”  The ethical responsibility obliges me to participate in the life of the Other, thereby establishing my identity in relation to this Other.  My freedom—my self—is determined by my orientation to the Other[21]. 

 

This becomes highly significant for Wesleyanism when Levinas meekly confesses that it is the divine itself that opens in the face of the Other[22].  We find that it is not merely the human Other with whom we struggle.  It is not merely the human Other who obliges me with this ethical responsibility.  It is the Divine Other with whom I struggle; it is the Divine Other to whom I find myself obliged[23].  This is not to say that the human Other is to be identified with the Divine Other.  Far from it.  God is other than the human Other[24].  Levinas insists that only the trace of God is left behind in the human face.  God, not being present, has already passed as in Exodus 33.  Hence, to move toward God is to move toward this human Other who manifests God’s trace[25].

 

 

Sanctification in the Face of the Other

 

Wesley was keen to understand the social dimensions of Christianity, but modernity has not been kind to his insights.  Many preachers have proclaimed the possibility of a personal relationship with Jesus Christ at the cost of the social obligations of the Gospel.  Such preaching divides the body of Christ, leaving the body of Christ metaphorically dismembered.  If individual believers are encouraged to remain self-sufficient without participating in the life of the Other—well this sounds suspiciously close to Levinas’ definition of atheism as was previously discussed.  Wesley, understanding this, insisted that Christianity is essentially a social religion, a religion revealed by Jesus Christ and dependent upon society[26].  The voice of Emmanuel Levinas calls us to return to these lost insights.  I want to suggest that by understanding the idea of sanctification as an obligation to love our neighbor and, thereby, as a participation in the life of Jesus Christ then we can recover these original Wesleyan insights and promote a more wholistic doctrine of sanctification.

 

1. Sanctification as an obligation to the Other

 

I first want to suggest that sanctification, understood as Scriptural perfection, must be understood in positive terms as the perfection of love.  Wesley believed that through the carnality of sin, humanity lost the love of God and thereby the image of God.  For without the love of God, the image of God cannot subsist[27].  In his sermon, “The New Birth,” Wesley seems to identify the imago dei with agapic love, or, in the words of Jean-Luc Marion, as that quality alone which “is not but gives itself[28].”  Because love is properly an ethical term, it transgresses the boundaries of Being for it gives beyond itself.  It overflows the horizon of being and hence, it is not.  If the imago dei is understood in terms of the love of God, then the imago dei also transgresses the boundaries of Being.  It is not terrestrial and therefore not something proper to human beings.  The human being is in the imago dei only as the human being participates in the transcendence of love.

 

If love is beyond being and human beings remain in being, then there is an infinite distance between the love of God and the human person.  This infinite distance is precisely the definition of transcendence.  Love is transcendence; or perhaps we should say love transcends, for to say love is transcendence is to locate love within the realms of being.  This distance, this transcendence is a necessary byproduct of being[29].  It cannot be undone so long as the human being remains terrestrial.  So what is the possibility of sanctification within the terrestrial life?  How is distance to be traversed?

 

It is impossible that we should cross this gap, but this is not required of us.  Indeed, if that which is transcendent surpasses our ability to think, then certainly we can in no way even consider this quality that we might move toward it.  Thus Levinas insists and thus Wesley insisted.  But just as Wesley insisted on prevenient grace to quicken our souls to God, so Levinas insists that the transcendent comes to us in the face of the human Other.  By participating in the life of the Other, we are given to participate in transcendence.  That is to say, the human being can participate in a relationship with that which remains infinitely distant from the human being[30].  This is not all that different from the Eastern doctrine of perichoresis in which the believer remains distinct from God but not separate from God[31].  Because distance is not nullified, but actually affirmed in the relationship, the transcendent remains absolute.  That is to say, the transcendent is not relativised within the relationship; it is not made terrestrial.  Because love gives without return there is no movement back towards the transcendent. Levinas can rightfully claim that the relationship with transcendence is a relation without relation and this he names religion[32].

 

According to Randy Maddux, one of Wesley’s central convictions was that love is the fullness and epitome of the Christian life.  The Christian is given to love only as a response to God’s steadfast love to us[33].  Levinas informs us that it is in the face of the Other that the Divine is revealed to us.  Therefore from a Wesleyan perspective, it is in the community of believers that God’s love is revealed to us.  As we are caught up in the saving love of God we are compelled by God’s love to go forth and love the ones we meet.  For the one who is embraced by the love of God there is only one appropriate response: “Here am I.  Send me.”  The “Here am I” puts the self at the disposal of love.  As I encounter the Other I come under the Infinite obligation to love this Other.  The proper relationship to the Other is that of loving service as one who is sent forth for the Other[34].  Love re-orientates our lives and restructures our desires.

 

Terrestrial desire does violence to the Other and, in Wesley’s words, is not proper to an “immortal spirit[35].”  Egocentric human desire, terrestrial desire, is bent towards the appearance of beauty, the new, and the uncommon.  Terrestrial desire overlooks those things that appear modest, ordinary, or poor.  The terrestrial human being does not accept that which is alien or other to it unless it becomes a commodity to be consumed.  Hence Paul opposes the desires of the flesh with the desires of the Spirit.  The Spirit desires the things of God, and what are the things of God but the children of God.  Sanctified desire seeks out the neighbor, not as a commodity, but as a manifestation of the Divine, as a child of God to be embraced in community.  Terrestrial desire is exclusive; sanctified desire inclusive.  As Runyon observes, if renewal is to occur in the human life, then it occurs through the works of love[36].

 

Wesley insisted that there was nothing higher in religion than love[37].  However Levinas insists that the human being cannot participate in love except as it attends to the ethical obligation to the Other.  Until love reveals itself to us, we are conscious only of a world revolving around ourselves.  The first revelation of love is manifest in the ethical obligation to the Other who appears before me.  In the face of the poor, the sick, the homeless, the prisoner, the destitute and the alien I encounter the Crucified One, the brother of all the marginalized.  I cannot love God unless I love this Other[38].   This is precisely why Wesley insisted in his preaching and in his letters that Methodists were to physically go to where the needy were and provide whatever care they could[39].  It was fine to send money for someone else to help, but this wasn’t enough[40].  Human beings are beings who do things.  We are not stagnate.  We work.  If love is at work in us, then we also out to be about the works of love.  Works of love are the proper and necessary response to the love of God salvifically at work in our lives.  By attending to the ethical obligation to love this Other, I participate in the event of love and therefore I am transported beyond my own frontiers—beyond carnality.

 

2. Participation in Christ

 

According to Wesley, “Love is the very image of God…By love [humanity] is not only made like God, but in some sense one with [God][41].”  In what sense can it be said that one is made one with God?  Scripture tells us that “[Jesus Christ] is the image of the invisible God, firstborn of all creation[42].”  Here we have a correlation between love as the image of God and Jesus Christ as the image of God.  From this basis, having established that sanctification is properly understood as perfect love, we can make the claim that sanctification is also an active participation in the life of Jesus Christ.  The life of Jesus Christ is precisely a life of agape, a continual giving away of oneself to the Other.  Jesus Christ took the nature of a servant, humbled himself obediently to God, becoming lower than the lowest sinner, died abandoned even by God and descended into hell—all the while trusting in the God who raises the dead.  To participate in the life of Christ is to find oneself where Christ is found. 

 

To be found in Christ is to find oneself among the damned and among the outcasts; it is to be damned.  The life and history of Jesus Christ is the life and history of the Crucified One.  That is who Jesus is.  Even in the resurrection, he remains the Crucified One—the one who died amidst sinners.  As I am found in Christ I am found among sinners and I find that, as Christ became sin for me, so I take on the sin of my neighbor.  My hands are dirtied by the filth of my neighbor’s sin.  My life takes on the putridness of my neighbor’s idolatry and atheism.  To die in that moment is to die in sin and atheism.  It is to die in separation from God.  There is nothing for me but to hope, that by God’s grace, I also will be raised out of hell.  In that moment there is no other identity for me but as one who trusts in God.  Trust is all I have to cling to, and God is the only proper object for trust.  I am nothing but trust and without trust I remain damned to nothingness.

 

As God was faithful to Jesus so God is faithful to me.  Through the Spirit of Holiness God embraces me, embraces all the sin that I have taken upon myself, and raises that life of sin.  As Christ died for my sins, so I die for the sins of my neighbor in order that my neighbor might become the righteousness of God.  From a Wesleyan perspective, this is the entirety of the ethical obligation to the Other and it is fulfilled only as one participates in the life and history of Jesus Christ.  Only as I am found in Christ am I sanctified and separated unto God. 

 

Conclusion

 

Wesleyan theology confronts new challenges and new concerns today as it enters the twenty-first century.  Many of those concerns revolve around the power structures inherent in our modern world.  Society is becoming more aware of the oppressive nature of its own power structures and is beginning a steady revolt against them.  Wesleyan theology possesses a unique ability through its doctrine of sanctification to present a message of liberation from oppression, a liberation for the Other.  The doctrine of sanctification, as a doctrine rooted in the Gospel of Jesus Christ, is a message of good news and that good news is that through the appearance of the Other, God has met us.  Through the appearance of the Other we are set free to participate in the transcendence of agape.  Through the appearance of the Other we are set free to participate in the very life of Jesus Christ.  We have only to respond to the love of God and open ourselves to God’s calling.

 

Sanctification need not be a burdensome doctrine.  Indeed it is inherently liberating.  Understood as love for one’s neighbor and participation in the life of Jesus Christ, sanctification frees the believer from a limited, egocentric existence to a boundless life freed for the Other.  Any self that lacks this participation in the life of the Other is a self that remains entrenched in atheism, a self lacking authentic humanity.  Conversely, any life characterized by participation in the Other is a life that has passed from death unto life.  Through the Other we are given life abundant.