In
fact, Paul Ricoeur locates hyperbole at the center of proverb (operating
through a law of paradox and hyperbole) and parable (operating through a law of
extravagance). He writes, “There is no
parable that does not introduce into the very structure of the plot an
implausible characteristic, something insolent, disproportionate; that is,
something scandalous” (1995, 229). He argues that through paradox and hyperbole
one is disoriented, the “extraordinary breaks forth in the ordinary,” and by
way of proverb and/or parable one is again reoriented to a new way of seeing
and being, a new way of perceiving reality. Rather than being deceitful,
hyperboles used in proverbs and parables can reveal new ways of thinking and
being in the world. They are strategies of transformation as well as disruption
and resistance through excess, extravagance, and exaggeration.
Throughout
history, Christians have also used hyperbole in sermons, for example, in
panegyric sermons and poetry of the Middle Ages (Curtius 1991) or in the
Christian grand style of the Renaissance (Ettenhuber, 2007), as well as in
theological discourse (in negative theology, for example, see Derrida 1995) in
order to express that which is inexpressible and ineffable. As Christopher D.
Johnson posits, “Medieval theologians who prefer the via negativa, like Meister Eckhart, Bernard of Clairvaux, and
Julian of Norwich, keep alive the mystical tradition of Pseudo-Dionysius by
renovating the hyperboles and paradoxes integral to apophatic and cataphatic
speech” (2010, 72). In the Renaissance, according to Katrin Ettenhuber,
Christian rhetoricians viewed hyperbole as a way to “shore up faith,” offer
extravagant praise to God, and engage one in a process of “spiritual
reorientation” (2007, 206-7). In a more contemporary theological context,
Stephen H. Webb argues that hyperbole is Karl Barth’s chief means of expression
and is also central to Soren Kierkegaard’s theo-philosophical project. Indeed,
Webb argues that all religious and theological language is inherently and
necessarily hyperbolic (1991, 1993). It seems, then, that something significant
occurs when hyperbole, hyperbolic thought, or a hyperbolic perspective is
employed.
Again, hyperbole should not be misunderstood as “mere” exaggeration. It is not just a simple deceit. Rather, hyperbole is a complex drive towards the impossible, which is to say a movement towards transformation. If we were only ever content and satisfied with what is possible, then nothing would change. It is only by moving through the difficulty of the impossible and the ideal that we can become transformed and can discover new possibilities about life, but looking at impossibilities can often be confusing, even disorienting. It is confounding to think of loving one’s enemies or even renouncing a materialistic-oriented lifestyle. What is even more confusing is that hyperboles often present us with an apparent lie, but interestingly, this type of lie does not intend to deceive or hide something from us. Rather, it is meant to reveal or to re-orient us towards other truths about our world. So when we do read that it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the kingdom of God, Jesus is obviously not blatantly lying to us. Again, this is a strategy of transformation, disruption, and resistance through the use of excess and exaggeration. This deceit is intended to reveal a larger truth that being possessed by possessions may mean that we miss some significant insights about the message of Christianity itself – that we must learn to disrupt oppressive societal norms, that economic inequality is unjust, and that we must discover new and different ways to love and exist in the world.
[…]
This
all, of course, sounds very positive, that hyperbole is both disruptive and
transformative, and it certainly can be. It can aid one in subverting and
transforming oppressive structures in society. Yet, it can also become
oppressive itself. As theologian Stephen H. Webb writes, “Capitalist culture
utilizes everything, even what breaks the boundaries of the useful [i.e.,
hyperbole], so that the most Dionysian expressions of surplus and exuberance
are co-opted and marketed for the purposes of exchange and profit” (2000, 281),
which I will discuss below as a hyper-materialistic, hyper-consumerist form of
spirituality. Here, Webb highlights the danger of hyperbole being “co-opted and
marketed for the purposes of exchange and profit.” Unfortunately, this does not
just happen with typical brands we might think of, such as Nike or Coca-Cola.
Other areas of life such as “religion” and “spirituality” are also being
“occupied,” (re)branded, and commodified for a society that wants only to
purchase and to consume salvation or enlightenment rather than to incorporate
it into their lives in any meaningful or ethical way.
[…]
Carrette
and King do not explicitly identify spirituality with hyperbole the way I do,
but they do highlight that spirituality itself is an incredibly slippery and
empty cultural signifier that has the potential to provide any “product,”
including consumer-as-product, with positive qualities. I connect spirituality
to hyperbole because I suggest that to spiritualize something is, in a way,
also to consecrate something, and to consecrate something is to alter and
heighten or intensify its substance by associating it with the sacred, to
transform something mundane into something sacred and even holy. This
hyperbolization of spirituality—spiritualization as a hyperbolic act of
consecration—within an economic framework turns the transformative power of
“revolutionary spirituality” into the oppressive disempowerment of “capitalist spirituality,”
which can lead to a “desacralisation [sic] and commodification of life”
(Carrette and King 2005, 45, 49). What this means, then, is that spirituality
has been occupied, or re-appropriated, for monetary purposes in order to help
companies sell their products; “spiritual” and “spiritualized” commodities.
Historically, of course, spirituality has been used to lead people towards new
and transformative insights and truths about one’s life, but today, this
journey can take a negative turn when viewed in the context of a hyper-consumerist
system with its own “truths” marketed for a mass audience to believe, for
example, a market value “truth” masquerading as an ethical “truth.” Most
problematic of all, we often do not even notice when this more negative form of
hyper-consumerist spirituality is occurring, which may be leading one towards a
commodification of the sacred.
Thus,
from this perspective when one says that one is “spiritual but not religious,”
one could be understood to mean that one is a consumer but not ethical. The “spiritual”
subject does truly believe they are living above the norm or even resisting
dominant ideologies, which is why this form of capitalist spirituality is so
complex and problematic, but all one is really doing is “buying in” to a
re-appropriated (re-branded) consumer driven sense of self. “Spiritual
self-actualisation [sic] is a market-actualization [sic]” (77). In this way, the
merger of spirituality and economic materialism is solidified as this new form
of hyper-consumerist spirituality is commodified and re-branded with an “aura
of authenticity” after it has been stripped of all its material, moral, and
cultural resources (15). A hyper-materialist, hyper-consumerist spirituality
operates (and consecrates) within the spiritual marketplace creating the
ever-increasing excessive need for new “spiritual products” to fill the void of
community with desires of the self. Understood in this framework, spirituality,
capitalism, religion, and hyperbole take on new meanings and rhetorical dimensions
in terms of examining relations of power in various types of discourses and
communities.
[…]
For
full text and full citations/notes see Review
& Expositor 110, no. 2 (2013) : 211-238.
