Abstract

One of the more famous dictums of political philosophy and indeed western thought is that of Jean-Jacques Rousseau: ‘Man is born free and everywhere in chains.’ These opening lines of The Social Contract (1762) summed up his earlier formed perception that civil society is unavoidably structured in favour of the powerful to the detriment of individual freedom. The rest of the book, and indeed his life, centred on the subsequent problem: how may society and therefore power be non-coercive? By identifying this key question, Leo Strauss called Rousseau the first critic of modernity (Natural Right and History, 252). In turn, the insight has since become a consistent preoccupation of many who have taken a critical stand on modernity—including feminism and central figures of postmodernity such as Michel Foucault.
I mention these in particular as they are significant sources in this contribution of Roy Kearsley on ‘power’s persuasive presence, the elephant in the room’ (p. 215). His aim is to address this lacuna in theological reflection by distinguishing the key elements of a power-analysis that are applicable for a local church, consider them theologically, and identify the resulting practical challenges and opportunities.
To his credit this is a very discerning work, especially with regard to power itself. He resists the temptation to presumptively value power negatively. As a result, he challenges the predominant approach to power as always domination, exploitation or manipulation, without denying that it can and does act in such ways. This older model may be pictured as linear, where power moves from the top-downwards in an intentional and identifiable way. It supports the metaphor of power-lines (Catherine Keller, ‘Power Lines,’ Theology Today 55:2 (July 1995): pp. 188–203). Instead, the approach proposed by Kearsley supports a different metaphor of power streams with eddies, currents, and cross-currents, and so uncontrollable and unpredictable (p. 89). This latter model, he argues, is to be preferred because it describes better the actual group dynamics of a local church.
It is almost a truism to say that it is impossible to define power; yet, a comprehensive discussion demands some clarification of the term and practice. Kearsley uses a rather simple yet effective ploy: ‘a play of the prepositions’ (p. 11). Accordingly, ‘power-over’ refers to the older model, to which he adds ‘power-to,’ ‘power-with,’ ‘power-from,’ and so on. In particular, he emphasizes a positive ‘power-to’ or to use a phrase of Kyle Pasewark: ‘communication of efficacy’ (Kyle Pasewark, Theology of Power: Being Beyond Domination. Minneapolis, MN: Fortress, 1993). This term is not to be associated with an evaluation of power by some utilitarian measure of consequences; rather it wishes to assert the place for a positive-power that enables the call of fellowship and service.
The issue of power and the local church touches most obviously on ecclesiology. Kearsley’s primary theological resource is the ecumenical debate and its development of a theology of koinonia. He deliberately sidesteps questions of larger institutional structure in favour of local face-to-face church communities in order to create a wider appeal and application. Koinonia, with its affinity to the Roman Catholic term communio, is ‘a dynamic impulse towards communion’ (World Council of Churches, Nature and Purpose of the Church: 12). Centred on Christ and the Spirit, it is a ‘lodestar of ecclesiology’ (p. 17).
In turning to power-analysis itself, Kearsley’s dialogue partners are predominantly feminism and Michel Foucault. Other theologians feature, yet an extended treatment occurs quite late in the discussion. Feminism, of course, offers an extensive and varied critique of power by identifying forms of patriarchy and hierarchy. But the primary lead is taken from the work of Foucault, for it is here that Kearsley identifies the major shift away from the older model. The phases of Foucault’s work move from a searching analysis of sovereign and disciplinary power towards the dynamics of micro-power. The move was warranted in the last analysis for ‘Power is everywhere …because it comes from everywhere’ (Foucault, History of Sexuality, 1979: p. 93). Paying attention to its movements therefore reveals its complexities and the extent to which it saturates interaction. But it also reveals its instability and so the possibilities for either resistant or spontaneous change.
Foucault is read very sympathetically. Indeed, Foucault is the hero of this piece to the extent of exalting who he is as much as what he says: his ‘passion for freedom with honesty … hands on to leaders in a local church a compelling standard’ (p. 50). Some criticisms of Foucault are acknowledged but they are not sustained for long. One in particular is worth mentioning: it has been often pointed out that there exists in Foucault what has been termed a ‘normative deficit.’ To be fair, it is acknowledged by Kearsley, but it is left largely unaddressed (pp. 76, 216). I sense that the problem carries over into Kearsley’s text. It primarily shares the ‘explanatory-diagnostic’ approach that he identifies with feminist reflections on power (p. 8). Without doubting the importance of such a method, it does fall short in working through normative requirements, that is, in how local churches should operate. It does not move far from exhortation. At base, he simply appeals to balancing: ‘healthy church lives from two principles: the simple fact of forms of “power-over” and the balancing and more final possibility of an outcome of positive “power-to,” the power of a good communication of efficacy’ (p. 111). To do so requires ‘a continuous culture of transparency, listening and willingness for surprise and respect’ (p. 215). But Rousseau’s conundrum remains: the question of how may this be done.
This is an interesting work. It provides a lucid and benevolent overview of much of the literature in this area. Drawing on the now common distinction of power-over from power-to allows him to reconsider many theological issues including ‘authority,’ ‘weakness,’ and ‘the cross.’ Personally, I found the final sections on St Paul and the omnipotence of God attractive. Both have become villains (p. 195) in much of the narrative on power for legitimizing of power-over. By untangling the power-lines, Kearsley has allowed them both to become the unpredictable grace of a power-to-serve.
