Benoît Chantre and the Girardian Crisis of Mediation Leading to the Intimate Mediation of Faith

Toward the end of his life René Girard had grown dark and pessimistic, assuming that in spite of his life’s work exposing violence, pointing out the key role of the scapegoating mechanism, indicating the saving role of Christianity, he nonetheless concluded that humanity was set upon its own violent destruction. In sum, he concluded that Christianity had failed, and that the coming apocalypse could not be diverted. His final book, Battling to the End, contains in the title Girard’s assumption that violence and battle were unstoppable. In this book, which is a conversation with his primary interlocutor, Benoît Chantre, Chantre urges him to a more optimistic understanding in regard to Christ’s historical breaking in to human history, viewing the crisis itself, individual and world-historical, as indicating the answer. It is the logic of law leading to grace, or circumcision indicating baptism, with the second category suspending the violence of the first, but in which the form (law or religion) is preserved. The law and religious practices (sacrificial religion, according to Girard) implode, and Christ intervenes at the very point of crisis of law and religion (the crucifixion), so at that point where humanity would silence and destroy God, is the crisis from which he speaks. It is this logic that I am attempting to trace, how it is that human failure and crisis, indicates the resolution of intimate mediation through Christ.

The way in which we become selves is through a process of inculturation and socialization, so that we learn to talk or simply to be human by imitation and mediation of others. We imitate our parents or siblings and, in this sense, we receive ourselves from others. Their talk, their walk, becomes our own, though this otherness imbues alienation. In René Girard’s picture of hominization or individuation, the process is one of external mediation, in which we follow a model, to internal mediation in which we would become the model, which leads to rivalry. Girard is building upon the Freudian Oedipus Complex, in which the child imitates the father, but then would be the father, with the difference that Freud attaches this to sex while Girard views it as a fundamental pursuit of life. Jacques Lacan shifts the Freudian register out of biology into language, and views the dynamics of the subject, conscious and unconscious, as functioning like a language (I describe this here and here). All are describing a basic drive toward life or being, and it may be that no one of them is entirely right or wrong, as there must be a biological, a sexual, and a linguistic component to being human, which involves the basic drive to be – to be human, to have life, or to attain being, but each also ends in crisis (rivalry, death drive, murder, an apocalyptic end).

From Mediation Through the Other to Intimate Mediation

What the biblical picture adds to being human, is the possibility of the spiritual, the divine, or the eternal, which need not be a departure from biology, sexuality, and language, but just as these might be layered, so too the realm of the spirit. Human spirituality is the final point of integration, holding the other realms in place so as to serve this final phase of maturity (chronologically, but also their driving telos). Even apart from a specific religious notion, to become fully human points to a final integration, in which one is not simply driven by biology, sex, and culture.

This passage, in the description of Chantre (deploying the language of Girard) is from external, to internal, to intimate mediation. It is a passage from nature to grace, or the progression from external mediation into a rivalry in which “enemy brothers duel each other.” Collapse into rivalry and murder is the point of Christ’s intervention: “Only an intimate mediation, the return to faith in a unique Mediator—the one whose Incarnation, for better or worse, has put divinity within reach—can save the religious structure and with it the long process of hominization.”[1] There is a return to a vertical transcendence, not of the unreachable, imperturbable model, but through the presence of Christ in history there is “a growing presence of faith at the heart of the Law: God is no longer the external mediator par excellence, the one who dominates human history, but an intimate mediator, acting and revealing Himself at the heart of history.”[2] Intimate mediation is not through an external model or rival, but through closure of the alienating gap, which can be equated with faith.

Given the logic of mediation, intimate mediation could be seen as the guiding telos of the entire process (of hominization and integration). Being incorporated into the body of Christ, or receiving the Word which is Christ, closes the separation between the model and potential rival or between the self and the law (or language). This is not an impersonal word, but one that is embodied: as “the word of God abides in you, and you have overcome the evil one” (I Jn 2:14). Inscription in the Word is not a mere mark on the flesh, but a subsumption of the flesh under the Word: “Let the word of Christ richly dwell within you, with all wisdom teaching and admonishing one another with psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing with thankfulness in your hearts to God” (Col 3:16).

The living Word within brings about a different subject, a true circumcision: “in Him you were also circumcised with a circumcision made without hands, in the removal of the body of the flesh by the circumcision of Christ; having been buried with Him in baptism, in which you were also raised up with Him through faith in the working of God, who raised Him from the dead” (Col 2:11–12). It is not a circumcision in which “there are still traces of bloody sacrifice” but it is on the order of baptism, in which there is immersion in the Word, and passage beyond sacrifice. There is a logic in the passage from circumcision to baptism on the order of the logic of passage through external mediation to intimate mediation. The failure of the one, points beyond itself in the way that law points beyond itself. There is a displacement of the law of the flesh, a necessity indicated in this law. “This is the reason why in Saint Paul’s mind baptism must compete in effectiveness with circumcision.”[3] Baptism accomplishes what circumcision could not but in which it is indicated, a circumcision of the heart.

Faith as Trusting the Mediating Voice Behind the Law

Paul understood why Law gives rise to covetousness and murder only after he was a Christian, but was blind to the work of the Law as long as he was serving it. “Only that faith which is capable of hearing The One Who Speaks in the Law makes it possible to avoid the perpetual ups and downs of mediation, for the emergence of this intimate model, ‘hidden since the foundation of the world,’ deals a fatal blow to the circle of sin.”[4] From within his total devotion to the Law, on the Road to Damascus, Paul hears the voice which all of his effort was dedicated to silencing. In the midst of sacrificing Christians, he encounters the one who would end sacrifice. He is in the midst of transgressing the Law, and would sacrifice the one who embodies the Law, and it is in the midst of this failure that he hears the voice which will give rise to faith. Paul will come to understand his blindness and that of his fellow Jews, as a misrecognition induced by the Law, which does not rely on faith, “they did not pursue it by faith, but as though it were by works” (Rom 9:32). “Lacking faith, the ‘Jews of the flesh’ have had nothing but ‘works,’ that is to say a formalism, a terrified obsession with the Law.”[5] Law was not to be its own foundation, but was a supplement to faith. Paul indicates they have not even attained the law – they “did not arrive at that law” (Rom 9:31). The Law marked that which came before and after it, and they missed this mediating role for the law.

In Romans 4, drawing on the father of the Jews and the father of faith (Abraham, who was called by God from those the Jews would call Gentiles), Paul associates faith with that which precedes Judaism and the Law. The key element of faith is trust in God’s promise to provide life (through a son) in the face of shame and death. Abraham is not able to provide himself life, through a child, so his is resurrection faith (death acceptance) as opposed to death resistance, (Rom 4:24-25).[6] The shame of enduring childlessness in the face of his and Sarah’s being “as good as dead” describes both Abraham’s incapacity and his recognition of this incapacity to propagate his name (his life), and this circumstance is precisely the failure faith addresses.

Paul purposefully references the events prior to the giving of the covenant of circumcision so as to convince the Jewish Christians of the priority of faith over the Law. “For we say, ‘Faith was credited to Abraham as righteousness’” (Rom 4:9). It was credited “Not while circumcised, but while uncircumcised” (4.10). Paul’s argument, as to the secondary nature of the Law, is that it is not itself the promise but is a seal or sign (4:11). To presume life and righteousness are in the Law (as Romans 7 is sometimes misconstrued) is to believe the lie Paul is refuting. Life comes from God, and is not simply a product of the natural course of things.

Refusing the One Behind the Law for the Law Itself

The Jews stumble over the stumbling stone: “What shall we say then? That Gentiles, who did not pursue righteousness, attained righteousness, even the righteousness which is by faith; but Israel, pursuing a law of righteousness, did not arrive at that law. Why? Because they did not pursue it by faith, but as though it were by works. They stumbled over the stumbling stone” (Rom 9:30–32).  They are obsessed with the working of the Law, as if the Law could do the work of faith. The “Jews of the flesh” like all people of the flesh are in servitude to a model, a law, which is not an end in itself. They have tripped over the one who is the foundation of the Law: “Behold, I am laying in Zion a stone of stumbling, and a rock of offense; and whoever believes in him will not be put to shame” (9:33). The Law rendered them deaf to the one who speaks in the Law. They have made a fetish of the Law, confusing it with the messianic voice. Their “mindless repetition of the letter, this blind ritualism . . . has made them deaf to the prophets” and this same blind zeal “has made them reject the just one.”[7] Their rejection of Christ is of the same order as all people who have lynched, stoned, and crucified the innocent in the name of their law. They have trusted their own power of mediation through the scapegoat mechanism.

“The fetishism of the Law is then inscribed in the wake of sacrifices; it is logical that those who retain only the letter of the Law should exclude or sacrifice those who remind them of its sprit.”[8] Silencing the voice behind the Law in the name of the Law, is to reify the letter which kills and destroys the spirit which gives life. This is the very definition of sin, whether found in Judaism, nationalism, paganism, or simply legalism. The sinner refuses the voice behind the Law, as it requires faith. “This God who speaks in the Law is not a God looking down on the world (an external mediator who might always become an internal mediator, provoking sin), but an intimate mediator, a God who is only fully transcendent because he resides in the heart of everyone.”[9] This “intimate mediator” mediates an immanent transcendence which surpasses the natural self, mediated through models, family, culture, law and language. Humans were made for transcendence, for God, for participating in the divine.  

The Final Crisis: The Stages of Mediation Fulfilled in the Last Law of Christ

Paul, Girard, and Freud picture the self as split against the self in a death dealing mediation. Chantre describes the “last law” as providing resolution to mediation under the Law, through the Law of Christ: “According to Saint Paul, it is thus the Incarnation of Christ that operates the unveiling of misrecognition, ridding us of the primacy of works and liberating humanity. The Christ, last prophet, Law made man, sharing the mortal condition without being afflicted by the ‘law of the flesh,’ is at once the last law and the last victim.”[10] In this last law, there “is a shift from one form of imitation to another, from the imitation of an exterior to that of an interior model, from ‘external’ to ‘intimate’ mediation” and this “assumes the gradual rise of messianic transcendence at the heart of world history. This ultimate transcendence (‘authentic transcendence,’ Girard would say) and this ultimate model only appears ‘at the end.’”[11] But whether Girard continues to hold this as a real possibility is questionable in this final work of Girard, with Chantre.[12]

Chantre urged Girard toward this “last law” which Girard’s own work had indicated, but Girard had turned dark, concluding that humanity is heading toward inevitable apocalyptic violence. Chantre points toward a brighter hope in “intimate mediation” through which the Jews of the flesh will have become Jews of the spirit and the “non-Jews according the flesh” will have become “non-Jews according to the Spirit.” All, Jews and Gentiles, will have set aside the law of the flesh, and the “scapegoat mechanism will have drawn its final breath.”[13] The goal of humanity will have been completed, “and man divinized at last; the skeptic (or the enlightened unbeliever) will wonder if man himself has disappeared with the gods.”[14]

This is the solution Paul pictures as inaugurated by Christ in the midst of history. Paul sees a Trinitarian solution to the crisis of the individual and the historical crisis: “For the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus has set you free from the law of sin and of death” (Rom 8:2). The intimate mediation of faith resolves the problem of mediation as this mediation is participation in a Trinitarian reality, which displaces the law of the mind, the law of the flesh, and the body of death, or the Trinitarian absence (the Freudian ego/superego/id or the Lacanian imaginary/symbolic/real). Absence, in this light, was not an abandonment, but in the words of Chantre, it brings on the “exacerbated crisis,” whether of the modern world, or the individual under the law, “which calls for another type of trust, or – in Pauline terms – the irruption of faith at the heart of the Law.”[15] The natural mediation and crisis prepares for the supernatural mediation, life in the Spirit in which the voice behind the Law is heard, the Word from which the self is received. However this might work in world-historical terms, this is the center of the Christian hope, toward which every crisis, world-historical or individual, points.


[1] Benoît Chantre, The Time Has Grown Short: René Girard, or the Last Law (p. 52). Michigan State University Press. Kindle Edition.

[2] Chantre, 67.

[3] Chantre, 78.

[4] Chantre, 68.

[5] Chantre, 71.

[6] Per my analysis in The Psychotheology of Sin and Salvation: An Analysis of the Meaning of the Death of Christ in Light of the Psychoanalytical Reading of Paul (London: T&T Clark, 2015) 130-133.

[7] Chantre, 71.

[8] Chantre, 72.

[9] Chantre, 73.

[10] Chantre, 66.

[11] Chantre, x.

[12] The final work is Battling to the End: Conversations with Benoit Chantre.

[13] Chantre, 85.

[14] Chantre, 85.

[15] Chantre, 13.

Beyond Justification by Faith: Faith as the Resolution to Pluralism and “Postmodernism”

Faith is potentially the entry point into meaning, a coherent and dynamic personal engagement with the reality of God and the world. Faith, rightly understood, is the answer to foundationalism and ontotheology and their collapse. Faith is not dependent upon sure and certain knowledge nor does it presume a singular, stable culture, but presumes (from its inception with Abraham) a plurality of cultures, a dynamism in apprehending reality, and an always unfolding personal dimension of growth in wisdom and understanding. Abraham as the prototype of faith leaves his home, family and culture, departing from the unified Babel-like world recorded in Genesis 11, to go into an unknown country. Babel’s foundations were singular, unified, and presuming to attain the heavens (absolute and certain), based on literal concrete foundations not subject to mortality and death. The survival of the culture, through the tower, is the enduring meaning pursued in Babel.

Abraham departs from Babel, and his personal journey (there are no distinguishable persons in Babel) is defined in regard to his encounter with God. There is nothing certain, nothing permanent, and nothing concrete, in his life’s journey. He has the promise from God, and on this basis, he negotiates life’s uncertainties, but most particularly the defining reality of death. The promise from God is his means (meaning) of triangulating between the reality of God, his own mortal reality, and the hope for an enduring life in a son. This triangulation concerns his own bodily self-understanding, counting in his being as good as dead and Sarah’s womb being dead (4:19). Abraham’s understanding of the world depends upon the interpretive lens of the promise and his faithfulness is the point of apprehension. His experience is made intelligible, when it would otherwise be chaotic and futile in the face of death, due to his faithfulness to the promise of life.

This intelligibility is at first laughable, for both Abraham and Sarah. They are not simply dismissive, but the coherence of their life through faith is not evident, especially in the twenty-five some years prior to the birth of Isaac. Faith is not reasonable, it does not accord with experience, and on the surface, it appears to contradict the way things are (though it is not internally contradictory). Abraham has resurrection faith, according to Paul (4:23-25), which means he has an intelligible vision (though it may not be rational in the normal sense, it is not contradictory).

The how of God’s capacity to deliver on his promise is beyond Abraham’s ability to explain, as is evidenced in his attempt to help God along by siring a child through Hagar, his slave. His dependence upon and abandonment of natural explanation is part of his growing faithfulness. Nature is not definitive, life’s circumstance is not definitive, as faith encompasses these realities in a larger understanding. The reality of God does not simply trump other realities, but it brings a coherence and intelligibility they intrinsically lack.

This understanding on the part of Abraham is more than assent to facts, or even trust in a promise, as his entire life’s journey of faithfulness constitutes his recognition and confirms – as Paul describes it, that just as God can create from nothing so too, he can give a son to Abraham: “in the presence of Him whom he believed, even God, who gives life to the dead and calls into being that which does not exist” (4:17). God is not known or determined on the basis of the world, but the world and its reality are known and understood through an integrated knowledge of God. God is not caused, but causes all things, and this is the determinate reality in which Abraham lives his life. It is the insight provided by faith.

Abraham spent his life seeking understanding on the basis of faith, and this understanding pertained to his life, his body, his marriage, and his world. His faith is no abstraction, nor a set of dogmas, nor a law, nor a particular doctrine, but his faith pertains directly to the person of God and himself. He can abstract from God’s ability to give him a son, and God’s creation of the world (and vice versa), but this abstraction is grounded in personal reality. His faith opens him to an understanding of the world, and this understanding changes the fabric of his experience, his self-consciousness, and refracts back on his understanding. In other words, faith launches understanding, coherence, intelligibility, and meaning, and these things cannot begin elsewhere, for either Abraham or those who have his faith.

What is at stake in chapter 4 of Romans, first of all in Paul’s battle with the Judaizing false Teacher and then in justification theory, is nothing less than the meaning of faith, the meaning of Christianity, or the meaning of meaning and understanding. Where faith is defined by law (and law here may be any imagined static structure) propositions, dogma, or an imagined stable tradition (positive theology) are determinative. Meaning, rather than being personal, dynamic, continually engaging an unfolding reality, is static, impersonal, and objective. Christianity is reduced to a system or belief in a static set of propositions. Meaning is reduced to grasping the system, and understanding is not concerned with personal reality or a dynamic engagement with the world’s reality. Rather than faith being an ever deepening engagement with God and the world – evinced in an ever-deepening wisdom and understanding – faith becomes belief in doctrines and propositions. The justification theory arising with the Protestant Reformation, is not only nominalist in its origins, but it gives rise to a faith (a meaning system) which must satisfy itself with an impersonal, static, nominalist faith.

It may be necessary to do a misreading of Romans 4, the reading of justification theory, in order to make clear the absolute alternative represented by Paul’s view of faith. In justification theory, Romans 4 illustrates how faith justifies in place of the law, so that Abraham is to be emulated by all believers so that they too, if they have faith in the manner of Abraham, will be saved. Abraham is the prime example that faith alone (sola fide) saves, apart from works of the law. In this way, both righteousness and faith are given a meaning they simply do not have in this passage.

Abraham, like all who turn to faith, has recognized that he is a sinner and that he cannot please God through the law, and therefore he has faith. His faith fills in the incapacity of the law, a fact Abraham has had to discover (as it is a necessity in justification theory). Abraham trusts in the one who “justifies the ungodly” (4:5), so, though there is no record of Abraham’s struggle with sin, verses 7-8 must apply to him and reference his struggle. We must presume Abraham had a struggle with works righteousness, and his faith is an answer to this struggle (though Paul in no way intimates this). Justification theory requires the encounter of failure in regard to works of the law, as this is the very definition of righteousness, faith and salvation.

Righteousness and salvation are determined through the law, though the law is no aid in meeting these requirements. What is meant by salvation in justification theory is that humanity is sinful (which is defined by inability to keep the law) and faith fills in where works did not cut it. Faith defined by its role in regard to the law is precisely the argument set forth by the false Teacher which Paul is refuting. The Teacher is arguing for the necessity of the law while justification theory argues for the necessity of realization of the inadequacy of the law to achieve good works, but both systems need the law.

There are several problems with justification theory’s account of faith. Though faith is centered on the work of Christ, in place of the law, how can Abraham believe in Jesus, when he does not yet exist. How can he be said to be the father of all who believe, when his own belief (in justification theory) is not Christ centered but God (the Father) centered. Abraham’s faith pertained directly to his life’s journey – he had no son, but justification theory is concerned with law and its requirements. Abraham gives no evidence of an abstract struggle with a universal law. Is Paul picturing Abraham as somehow imputed with righteousness, as defined by the law, before there was law? There is nowhere in the text the notion that legal righteousness is transferred to Abraham, this misses the focus of the promise and the fact that Paul is using the term righteousness, not in reference to the law, but in reference to the life given through Isaac. As Douglas Campbell translates verse 3: “Abraham trusted in God, and it [i.e., his trust] was credited to his advantage with δικαιοσύνη.”[1] “These texts specifically disavow the notion of merit as the basis of God’s action—which would create a forensic-retributive relationship—correlating that act, rather, with ‘trust.’”[2] Paul has stated his intended purpose in 3:21-22: “But now apart from the Law the righteousness of God has been manifested, being witnessed by the Law and the Prophets, even the righteousness of God through faith in Jesus Christ for all those who believe.” Justification theory reads this “apart from the law” not as a complete departure from the law, as Paul argues, but as filling in the weakness of the law. Paul is making the case that faith has nothing to do with the law.

Paul is not doing justification theory, and his use of Abraham as an example of faith, has nothing to do with Abraham’s imagined discovery of the inadequacy of the law. Paul is using Abraham as a type of Christ, and of course does not picture a Christless faith as saving. There is no resurrection faith, no defeat of death, no enduring faithfulness, apart from Christ. Abraham’s journey is a type of the journey of Christ, and is not merely one to be emulated. No one is up to the task of faith like that of Abraham, any more than mere mortals are up to taking up crosses, dying, and being raised, apart from the fact that Christ pioneered this course. This is not something merely to be emulated – which would amount to a greater work than any work of the law. Participation in the faithfulness of Christ is the point. Christ did this and Abraham, in his own life-long encounter with death and his resurrection faith, is a type of Christian faithfulness. In both instances, there is a direct trust in God. Christ is not the object of faith, but the means of faithfulness, so that the focus is on trusting God as he did, through him. The Christian does not conjure up this faith through intense effort, but he participates in the faithfulness of Christ, of which Abraham is the key Old Testament type.

Paul’s argument undercuts the necessity of law, by arguing that Abraham’s faith is prior to the giving of the law. Righteousness does not and cannot pertain to the law, but it first of all refers to God’s promise to give Abraham a son, where he had no means of having a son. “For what does the Scripture say? ‘ABRAHAM BELIEVED GOD, AND IT WAS CREDITED TO HIM AS RIGHTEOUSNESS’” (Rom. 4:3). Abraham was declared righteous, and was given life where death reigned, due to his faith. The declaration of righteousness pertains directly to the giving of Isaac – life in place of death: “(as it is written, ‘A FATHER OF MANY NATIONS HAVE I MADE YOU’) in the presence of Him whom he believed, even God, who gives life to the dead and calls into being that which does not exist. In hope against hope he believed, so that he might become a father of many nations according to that which had been spoken, ‘SO SHALL YOUR DESCENDANTS BE’” (Rom. 4:17–18). So, Abraham’s faith is organically connected with his predicament, of being childless (without life) in the face of death.

Where justification theory has no role for resurrection in salvation, Paul puts the weight of Abraham’s faith and vindication on resurrection. “Now not for his sake only was it written that it was credited to him, but for our sake also, to whom it will be credited, as those who believe in Him who raised Jesus our Lord from the dead” (4:23–24). This definition of righteousness does not and cannot refer to the law, and so too this faith is apart from the law.

Justification theory has misconstrued faith, righteousness, salvation, and the work of Christ, but it has also relinquished the intelligibility fostered by the journey of Christian faithfulness. The immutable classicist concept of culture has crumbled, institutional Christianity has faltered, and postmodernism has presumably cleared away the foundations of the modern, but this homelessness is precisely the context in which faith takes on its fulness of meaning. There is no stable reality to be accessed through culture, science, or institutions, but the dynamism of faith apprehends an order of meaning which is not dependent upon these falsely reified forms of immutability. Through faith we can move forward into the unknown country and not be given over to a futile relativity; rather there is an intelligible, personal, meaning, to be continually garnered on the faith journey. Romans 4 in depicting the meaning of faith but pictures entry into an alternative world, a world of life and meaning, on the basis of the dynamic intelligibility of faith.


[1] Douglas A. Campbell, The Deliverance of God: An Apocalyptic Rereading of Justification in Paul (pp. 731-732). Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co.. Kindle Edition.

[2] Campbell, 731.