Theology of Consent: Mimetic Theory in an Open and Relational Universe

by Jonathan Foster

In the world’s first formal attempt at blending René Girard’s scapegoating theory with open and relational theology, Jonathan J. Foster offers compelling insights into anthropology, theology, and the nature of love. Foster uses Girardian thinking to enhance his understanding of open and relational theology even as he allows open and relational ideas to challenge mimetic theory’s tendency to be regressive.

Theology of Mimetic Theory in an Open and Relational Universe will give you clarity around––René Girard’s mimetic theory.Key elements of open and relational theology.The theist’s preoccupation with power.The atheist’s phobia of faith.The myth of redemptive sacrifice.A God of love vs. a loving God.Evolution as possible evidence of the divine.Hopeful ways forward for the entire world.
This is not only a smartly written dissertation-turned-book about two important philosophical paradigms but also a theopoetic story about love and its fundamental consent. In this writing, you’ll discover that consent––Resonates with the scientific evidence that we live in a relational universe.Empowers us to partner with the divine in crafting a more imaginative world.Aligns with the witness of biblical writers who suggest a God in genuine relationship with creation.Allows for the potential of evil without declaring God willed such evil.Informs how Jesus related to others, particularly those marginalized.Characterizes the way Jesus laid down his life of his own volition.Defines the relationship Jesus had with his Father God.Reframes our understanding of sacrifice.Points to the patient and uncontrolling nature of love.
Theology of Mimetic Theory in an Open and Relational Universe is something of a map for those at new trailheads, interested in insightful paths, but also for those already deep in the forest of theopoetics, life, love, the church, and theology.

262 pages, Paperback

Published October 13, 2022

About the author

Librarian Note: There is more than one author by this name in the Goodreads database.

Reviews

[Mike · Rating 4 out of 5]

The early chapters on Girard's mimetic theory are very good, providing clear illustrations that ground it in the real world rather than theory. It also reveals it's limitations, being rooted in anthropology rather than metaphysics. It clarifies the world as we experience it, and can know with a degree of certainty, but still leaves us with questions. However, the remainder of the book, where he looks at Process Theology in conversation with mimetic theory, is more diffuse. In it, Foster goes on at great length about omnipotence, but there is barely a mention of kenosis or Christology. Omnipotent religion is his primary target. However, Consent = Thy will be done. Creation (in the form of us!) is given the freedom to choose or reject. Love, especially when understood as non-coercive, can easily become abstracted (Star Wars theology), whereas in the gospel it is reduced to a finite person on a cross. It becomes real. Incarnate. The weakness of Process Theology is that it is premised on the optimistic idea (myth) of progress, ever increasing complexity, rather than becoming. We are God's partners in creation not equals. The writing style, at times, is also a little stream of consciousness, a straining too hard to be both poetic and profound. This can obscure rather than reveal, although I accept the limitations of language. Another weakness is the focus on the North American literature (which includes Girard!) and his lack of engagement (apart from Teilhard de Chardin) with other European writers dealing with similar themes. I think especially of Simone Weil, Paul Fiddes, and Keith Ward. Overall, a good book, but with a broader scope it could have been so much better.

[Adam Curfman · Rating 5 out of 5]

Great book overall! It’s worth it just for the overviews of Mimetic theory and Open and Relational Theology. Two of the better summaries of these that I have read. But then the synthesis of these two “philosophies” (?- ideas?) was even better. Also the writing was superb - almost poetic at times.

[John · Rating 4 out of 5]

I came to this book the way I come to most potlucks, already knowing which dish I'm there for. I know Girard well. I've taught him, argued with him, and let him ruin every office birthday party since graduate school, because once you've read Violence and the Sacred you can't watch a room decide who gets blamed for the missing cake without taking notes. Process theology I knew mostly by reputation, as the thing my seminary friends brought up around the second bottle of wine.

Foster seats the two at the same table, and to my mild annoyance they get along beautifully.

The research is the first pleasure. Foster has done the reading, not just the summaries of the reading, and his notes do real work instead of loitering at the back of the book looking scholarly. The prose is clean and unfussy. In a field where people say "prehension" with a straight face, that counts as a minor act of heroism. As a primer on open and relational theology it's excellent: patient without talking down to you, clear without flattening anything. I finished it with a reading list, which is the highest compliment a book like this can earn and the most expensive one for my wallet. Next up is Oord, and then David Bentley Hart, so one can build the house and the other can show up with a thesaurus and set it on fire.

The book earns its title in the place where the two traditions meet. Girard gives us desire that imitates, rivalry that escalates, and a crowd that buys back its peace by killing someone. Process thought offers a God who works by persuasion rather than force. Put them together and you get a startling claim: a God who will not coerce is a God who can't be drafted into the sacrificial machine. That God stands with the victim instead of the mob, and refuses to become the biggest bully on the playground even when we beg him to. It's a powerful idea, and Foster handles it with care.

I remain unconvinced. My pencil, however, didn't get the memo. The margins look like a crime scene.

What stays with me most is Foster's choice to lead with God's love rather than God's omniscience. He cares less about what God knows than about how God loves, and that's exactly where the sacred text puts its own weight. Scripture spends surprisingly little time on God's résumé. It tells stories instead: a father who hikes up his robes and runs down the road, a prophet who keeps taking his wife back, a shepherd who leaves ninety-nine perfectly good sheep to go looking for the difficult one. When John's gospel finally sums the whole thing up, it doesn't say God so knew the world. It says God so loved it. Foster noticed that and built a theology on it, and even where I part ways with him, I can't stop thinking about the road that father ran down.