This essay was for an assignment exploring the relationship between Literature and Theology, where I was able to include some of the studies we just finished reviewing in my Social Neuroscience class.
What does it mean to read something like a Christian? Nieuwenhove argues that it is to read disinterestedly.
Summary of Article under Discussion:
In her chapter, the Uses of Uselessness, Zena Hitz explored the love of intellect for its own sake to contend the modern attempt to define value only by the parameter of what is practical or utilizable.[1] Rik Van Nieuwenhove’s essay, The Religious and the Aesthetic Attitude, expands on this idea by examining the congruency between the aesthetic and mystic religious attitudes through our engagement with them in an act of disinterested attentiveness. He begins his argument by defining disinterestedness not an indifference, but rather as a, “Non-instrumentalizing attitude in relation to the thing of beauty.”[2] He examines this view through the work of the aesthetic philosopher Immanuel Kant, as well as examining cognitive theories that support the need for separation of meaning from utility, and instead choosing to engage with material for its own sake and enjoy the beauty of it as an end in itself.
He then moves on to argue that this detachment from a theological basis. Through the example of Christ, we see the transcendent embody his creation not in an act of possession, but one of self-emptying. Christ exhibits Nieuwenhove’s definition of disinterestedness as he self-empties in order to fully participate in his creation out of love, rather than demanding it’s service. This implies our human engagement with the world should be an act of reflecting God rather than an attempt to claim. Instead of forcing utility onto objects, proper Christian ethics restores desire to a “proper relationship of objectivity.”[3]
Finally, Nieuwenhove draws on the work of Simone Weil, to define this examination of art and literature from a detached standpoint as an act of self -emptying. Weil does not mean this is passivity, but rather, to engage with writing- as well as the entire world, with an open receptivity she calls Attention. Nieuwenhove believes disinterest with attention is necessary to properly establish the congruency of literature and theology because only through this can we let go of our desire to possess and instead allow the world -and God- to fill us instead, as we in extension allow them to simply “be.”[4]
Reflection on Article:
Nieuwenhove’s exploration of the congruency of the aesthetics and mysticism through appreciation of beauty is essential to understanding the synthesis of religion and literature. His framing of disinterestedness places their congruency on the contingency of our proper engagement with both- the world and the divine (a piece of text or theological understanding). Congruency is only possible if one learns to shake their “gravitative” desire to capture or utilize the text or object with which we are interacting.[5] Nieuwenhove calls this act of shaking our desire “disinterest.” To view something disinterestedly, he argues, the person must be unconcerned with its practical utility.[6] Here Nieuwenhove outlines this argument on the two-layer-examination of human perception according to cognitive models, citing Kant’s example of a man observing a castle.
In Cognitive Neuroscience the world is appraised and perceived on one of two levels. The first is our instinctual salience analysis: a top-down processing, where more rational frontal cortex structures apply meaning and value to the appraised object to understand its relevancy. Here the castle is understood as a symbol of tyrannical rule, built with unlawful plundering and inhumane labour. However, the other level of perception does not account for these factors. When asked, “Is the castle beautiful?” one does not consider these valence analyses, and instead finds themselves answering truthfully, “Yes, yes, it is.”[7] Nieuwenhove cites this theory of Psychical Distance: a cognitive “bottom-up process” -that is, it is not examined by human reason or valence systems, and is instead processed by the more primitive or unconscious aspects of human perception in the dorsal/hindbrain regions. This second type of examination has a “negative inhibitory aspect, [...] cutting out of the practical sides of things and of our practical attitude to them.”[8]
By cutting out the utility or valence of the object in question, the person is removed from the center of the equation. The perception is no longer a question of what can be gained from this object, but rather a truthful examination of the object as it is, appraised on its own merits alone. The Castle is in a theological sense redeemed through distance. When it is examined disinterestedly, the tyrant who has built it to intimidate has lost power, and the power is then channeled towards the observed beauty in its own right. This beauty is not the Tyrant’s. The beauty is good in itself, notes Weil,[9] as it reflects a natural order which in turn reflects a divine power. Thus, by following Nieuwenhove’s logic, to examine literature in a non-possessive, utilitarian way, the conclusion is not the self, but a transcendent higher order. We come to the congruency with religion. Yet this can only be attained through the act of choosing to be disinterested: distanced from a value-appraisal.
Nieuwenhove’s argument of detached appreciation is a deeply theological idea, drawing on “The Christ Hymn,” Paul cites in Philippians and believed to be one of the oldest theological summaries of the New Testament. Christ, who is God, does not exalt himself to possess authority, but instead “empties himself,” enacting obedience and identification with his creation to the point of death.[10] Disinterestedness is not, Nieuwenhove argues, an appeal to be detached from creation, but is in fact an inversion of our instinct to claim, where instead we imitate Christ and become empty of our selfish desire. Thus, the reader of the piece of literature is no longer the removed subject attempting to gain possession of the meaning of the text (reading for the sake of becoming smarter, being able to contribute to certain conversations, or to appear better than others, all of which erodes the joy- the beauty- of reading).[11] Instead, the subject enters and engages with the text they examine, because they first appreciated or “loved it” and, because they are now emptied of a desire to possess, they can now be filled with the text’s meaning. In this same way, the Christ Hymn ends with the greater or increased re-exultation of Christ because he first chose to be emptied.[12]
This theological concept is summarised in the Greek word Kenosis –referring to the act of “self-emptying.” If one is to imitate Christ as Paul instructs, they are not renouncing the world for the sake of Christ. Nieuwenhove argues this would simply be reducing God to an object of our shifted desire.[13] Instead, one engages through kenosis, instead renouncing the self so as to see the world through the renewed lens that does not make a possessive appraisal of it. Nieuwenhove quote Simone Weil to articulate what this would look like.
Once we have understood we are nothing, the object of all our efforts is to become nothing. It is for this that we act, it is for this that we pray.
May God grant me to become nothing.
In so far as I become nothing, God loves himself through me.[14]
Thus, through the deliberate act of reappraisal, which is re-examining the content with which we engage, we in fact engage in the very humanizing, and also Christian act of self-emptying. This act makes room for the other. The ethical implication is further spelled out by Weil, who outlines the subtle shift of appraisal: “We must not help our neighbor for Christ, but in Christ.”[15] That is to say that the self disappears from subject of the sentence- and instead it is Christ helping others by using us, rather than us using Christ and others to our own selfish pursuits.
Weil expands this theology of self-emptied participation into how we engage with texts. How does one apply this same logic to literature? Through attention. She defines it as the suspending of our desires, instead adopting a passive receptivity to what the text will reveal.[16] This argument can also act as a way to refute modern “cancel culture,” which aims to rid academia of “controversial” literature. Instead, the problematic piece of literature can be appraised much like Kant’s castle. Symbolically, it is implicated as a perverse structure due to its origins of hurt and pain. Nieuwenhove calls this “gravity”, referring to the base, superficial and evil realities of everything:[17] the castle is built with a motive in the same way the author writes with their own prejudices and vices. None are removed. Yet through the quality of beauty, all these objects are sanctified.
Just as Weil argues that God loves through [us], so too he loves through his fallen creation, which contains qualities that can be not only be discerned through genuine receptivity.[18] But, this is a tricky thing, We can only see God through objects if we suspend the human need to own or capture their utility for ourselves, instead allowing them to exist for their aesthetic and even useless merit, revealing them as meaningful simply in being. In our active letting go and unintrusive participation we invert our old “gravitative” role. Instead of bending reality and God to our will, we instead become empty. This allows us to pay attention, “suspending our thought, leaving it detached, empty and ready to be penetrated by the object.”[19] Weil would say we are receptive to becoming God’s tool: his to utilize in the world.
The congruency that Nieuwenhove identifies between the aesthetic and mystical religious attitudes is contingent in how we pursue or interact with them. The piece of art, the poem, or the novel will remain a block of words to be dissected and understood and nothing more unless one chooses to appreciate and becomes receptive to the text, actively allowing themselves to be filled with it. This already sound religious, much like the mystical religious experience of self-emptying in order to be filled with Christ. It is an idea that appears foreign. However, if understood as a deliberate act of self-denial and stepping aside to make way for a voice less heard over our own noise, it becomes not only an aesthetic act, but even an action of social justice.
Thus, Nieuwenhove article’s synthesizing of the aesthetic with the religious requires our allowing of them to penetrate us. They are congruent only so far as one lets go of our salience judgement and instead allows those more ancient systems to set aside our personal biases and desire for possessive utility. Giving voice entirely to another -be this an author, a stranger, or even a divine source- allows reality to, as Christian Wiman put it, “erupt into our daily life.”[20] Only through stepping aside, dispending our demand for utility, do we allow art, writing, poetry, and therefore our understanding of God to simply be.
[1] Hitz, Zena. Lost In Thought: The Hidden Pleasure of An Intellectual Life (New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 2020).
[2] Nieuwenhove, “The Religious and the Aesthetic Attitude,” 183.
[3] Nieuwenhove, “The Religious and the Aesthetic Attitude,” 179.
[4] Nieuwenhove, “The Religious and the Aesthetic Attitude,” 184.
[5] Nieuwenhove, “The Religious and the Aesthetic Attitude,” 181.
[6] Nieuwenhove, “The Religious and the Aesthetic Attitude,” 176.
[7] Nieuwenhove, “The Religious and the Aesthetic Attitude,” 176.
[8] Nieuwenhove, “The Religious and the Aesthetic Attitude,” 178.
[9] Nieuwenhove, “The Religious and the Aesthetic Attitude,” 183.
[10] Philippians 2:5-11 NRSV.
[11] Hitz, Lost In Thought, 166-167.
[12] Phil 2:9-11 NRSV.
[13] Nieuwenhove, “The Religious and the Aesthetic Attitude,” 179.
[14] Nieuwenhove, “The Religious and the Aesthetic Attitude,” 181.
[15] Nieuwenhove, “The Religious and the Aesthetic Attitude,” 182.
[16] Nieuwenhove, “The Religious and the Aesthetic Attitude,” 182-183.
[17] Nieuwenhove, “The Religious and the Aesthetic Attitude,” 181.
[18] Nieuwenhove, “The Religious and the Aesthetic Attitude,” 182.
[19] Nieuwenhove, “The Religious and the Aesthetic Attitude,” 182.
[20] Christian Wiman, My Bright Abyss: Mediation of a Modern Believer, (New York: Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 2013), 77.
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