The Modern,the Postmodern,and. . . the Metamodern? Reflections on a Transforming Sensibility from the Perspective of Theological Anthropology

Introduction

One of the themes for the Edinburgh 2010 centennial conference, and the extensive study process that accompanied the conference, was ‘Mission and Postmodernities’. ¹ The purpose of this theme was to ‘consider issues raised by the new phenomena of postmodernity in its various forms in North and South and its significance for mission’ (Balia and Kim, 2010: 61). Somewhat ironically, there have for some time now been attempts in the academic discourse to describe what is referred to as the demise and decline of the postmodern due to the perceived insufficiency of the latter concept to adequately express the uniqueness of the 21st-century world, characterised by events, such as climate change, terrorist attacks, social and economic crises, and pandemics, as well as developments in various academic disciplines, including postcolonial, feminist, and queer studies (cf. Vermeulen and van den Akker, 2010). Linda Hutcheon put it very bluntly in the epilogue to the second edition of The Politics of Postmodernism: ‘Let’s just say: it’s over’ (Hutcheon, 2002: 166).

The younger generation of scholars and, interestingly, reflective artists, therefore, suggest adopting a new discourse, termed as ‘metamodernism’, to do justice to this transforming perception of and reflection on the world we live in. Importantly, the Edinburgh 2010 study process working group on ‘Mission and Postmodernities’ too recognised, like the scholars and artists above, that there has been a shift away from the postmodern approach to reality. In addition to climate change and economic crises, the working group members note that 9/11 is often given as the milestone for the end of postmodernity (cf. Balia and Kim, 2010: 68–69). Interestingly, even though the ‘Mission and Postmodernities’ working group agreed with the theorists of metamodernism on the reasons for this shift, it did not go further to consider and elaborate on a new paradigm. Instead, it contented itself with simply raising the question, whether it might be appropriate to speak of the post-postmodern, described as a peculiar dynamic of the return to traditional values and practices, often labelled as ‘fundamentalist’, and the intentional rejection of dominant notions and habits. Moreover, the Edinburgh working group seems to have its doubts about the fruitfulness of such an endeavour (cf. Balia and Kim, 2010: 68).

This article opts for a different approach. It seeks to reflect on this new discourse of metamodernism from a perspective influenced by contemporary theological anthropology. Its central claim is that human beings are not isolated, self-sufficient subjects but ‘persons constituted through relations with others, and ultimately through communion with God’ (Bretherton, 2019: 115). Significantly, this relational existence always takes place in interaction with one’s environment, including prevalent ideas, trends and habits. This interaction, if reflected upon theologically, can offer many insights for who we are in relations to others and God (theological anthropology) but also how we are to be engaged with the human and non-human world in the process known as missio Dei (missiology). The present explorations are focused on the theological-anthropological dimension of the encounter with metamodernism, rather than on elaborating its practical implications for Christian mission. However, before we undertake this endeavour, it is first necessary to explore what the term metamodernism refers to.

What is Metamodernism?

Recently, global trends and developments in areas such as information technology, economic structures, postcolonialism, internationalisation/globalisation, climate change, terrorism and human health have changed the ways people view the world. ² Although some, like the Edinburgh study group, maintain that these phenomena are part of what can be labelled as ‘postmodernities’ (see, for example Smith, 2006; for a reliable introduction see Lakeland, 1997), others believe that these changes brought about the end of the postmodern era. To be sure, it is argued, for people for whom ‘postmodern irony and cynicism is a default setting [. . .] a yearning for meaning – for sincere and constructive progression and expression – has come to shape today’s dominant cultural mode’ (Turner, 2015). This new yearning for meaning has found its expression in what is referred to as metamodernism. While some theorists introduce metamodernism as a philosophy (Clasquin-Johnson, 2017) ³ or a ‘cultural philosophy’ (Abramson, 2017b) ⁴ , it seems to be safer to regard it, together with Timotheus Vermeulen and Robin van den Akker, the authors who were the first to propose the term ‘metamodernism’ in its present meaning in their 2010 article, as a sensibility or ‘a structure of feeling’ since the notion has not been fully elaborated into a philosophy in the proper sense yet (cf. Vermeulen and van den Akker, 2010; cf. also Bakirov, 2019). Hereby the two authors suggest that metamodernism is still going through its initial phase of development rather than being firmly placed in a distinctive school of thought.

Metamodernism represents, as some of its proponents suggest, a response to the current philosophical and cultural turn away from the late 20th-century postmodern ideologies and a cautious, yet intentional reconsideration of modernism with its core convictions (cf., for example Belyk, 2018). Although such a clear-cut distinction might arguably be simplistic, it can, in any case, be asserted that metamodernism is ‘characterized by the oscillation between a typically modern commitment and a markedly postmodern detachment’ (Vermeulen and van den Akker, 2010). Interpreting the prefix meta- from its Greek root metaxis to mean ‘with’, ‘between’ and ‘beyond’, metamodernism then brings together, through intentional reflection and action, the key features of both modernism and postmodernism, such as earnestness and irony, commitment and detachment, optimism and reluctance, naivety and skepticism, and the yearning for utopia and the awareness there is none. Embracing paradox and juxtaposition, metamodernism takes the project of construction from modernism and that of deconstruction from postmodernism to come up with its own reconstruction (cf. Belyk, 2018). ⁵

This process takes place as a negotiation between modern and postmodern elements, preferring dialogue and collaboration over dialectics. Technology and media facilitate the collapse of distance typical for such reconstruction as one feels both estranged from and close to others, thanks to, first and foremost, the internet. To be precise, the metamodern reconstruction is to be viewed in terms of simultaneity and generative ambiguity when differing positions are inhabited all at once. These positions are radically re-evaluated in pursuit of progressive change and transformation (cf. Abramson, 2017a). Open to a careful reconsideration of ‘metanarratives’, such an attitude creates space for theological reflection as transformation is also a central concept in Christianity.

Religion and Theology in Metamodernism

For the purpose of our discussion it is vital to explore the role of religion in metamodernism. One of the central aspects of metamodernism is its regard for a renewed sense of transcendence. Referring to Fredric Jameson, Brendan Dempsey proposes that if postmodernism was characterised by ‘contrived depthlessness’, metamodernism perhaps reflects ‘a contrived depth’ (cf. Dempsey, 2014). ⁶ Indeed, recent scholarship shows us that this new, qualified transcendence is already informing contemporary cultural production. To give but one example, one can refer to Dempsey’s reading of the 2013 painting by Adam Miller, The Roses Never Bloomed So Red. Miller’s work makes use of the traditional composition of paintings that portrayed the archangel Michael’s victory over Satan. In Miller’s reinterpretation, however, Michael is replaced by a hunter, while a satyress, stylised as a nude red-haired female figure, assumes the role of the devil. One must say that Miller’s painting is rather disconcerting. As Dempsey puts it:

The ‘savage’ fauness is vanquished by the violent angel of ‘development’, and yet the bleakness of the ‘developed’ landscape they foreground compels us to see this victory as a great spiritual defeat. The traditional religious narrative is thus literally inverted, and again we find our ‘religious’ sympathies lying with the untamed and natural. (Dempsey, 2014)

The concept of transcendence in metamodernism can, therefore, be seen as ambiguous. Although there is a sense of something that goes beyond everyday empirical experience, the categories of ‘good’ and ‘evil’ are often reassessed. Tradition is reappropriated through the lens of the imagination to make sense of the contemporary reality. This interpretation can further be supported by Dempsey’s choice of the phrase, ‘a contrived depth’, in his characterisation of metamodernism’s stance on transcendence. With its connotations of not only something deliberate and thoughtful but also artificial and forced, the adjective ‘contrived’ suggests that metamodernism’s view of transcendence is rather complex and complicated.

The metamodern quest for transcendence often takes place within the framework of one’s own privately invented religion, characterised by invented ‘liturgies, hymns, ceremonies, scriptures, deities’ (cf. Dempsey, 2014). ⁷ To get a better grasp of this situation, it is helpful to turn to Sophia Belyk who interprets the metamodern religious reconstruction as an art form that works with transcendence as a human construct. This understanding does not mean that reason would be bypassed in this process. Instead, other faculties, such as imagination and intuition, join reason as venues of knowledge in pursuit of transcendence. On Belyk’s account, transcendence is considered by metamodernism through the lens of informed naivety, ‘knowingly fabricating theologies for their compelling nature rather than their spiritual value’ (Belyk, 2018). ⁸ In other words, a metamodern person cannot resist the pursuit of transcendence, while wondering whether she or he might be on a wild-goose chase. The ambiguity that is a hallmark of the metamodern reconstruction thus neither confirms nor rejects the notion of transcendence. Yet, there always is an awareness that transcendence is a reality created by humans only. As Belyk asserts, ‘one cannot presume to create God without first accepting atheism’ (Belyk, 2018). This is what the term ‘informed naivety’ refers to: one knows that the original myth has been broken; that one cannot have a faith of a ‘first naivety’ anymore. And yet, despite everything, one engages in the project of reassembling the broken myth, while drawing insights from what one knows about the world. This engagement is driven by the profound awareness that the pursuit of transcendence cannot be discontinued lest one renounce being human.

The concept of informed naivety in relation to transcendence in metamodernism is helpfully explicated by philosopher Hanzi Freinacht. He opts for a paradoxical approach when considering the metamodernist stance on religion. Freinacht mentions three particular points. First, he suggests that in metamodernism atheism can coexist with profound spirituality that one’s life is driven by. Second, a holistic perspective on the interconnectedness of all things is not destroyed by the awareness of the brokenness of the world and the impossibility of full salvation. And finally, metamodernism asserts a conviction that sincere religious fervor can flourish despite all the hopelessness one witnesses in the world (cf. Freinacht, 2017). Freinacht’s emphasis on the paradoxical nature of human existence in the world should be regarded seriously by those reflecting on theological anthropology. It will be kept in mind later in this article in the discussion of select themes central to metamodernism.

Writing from an Orthodox Christian perspective, Denys Bakirov offers a completely different appropriation of metamodernism vis-à-vis transcendence and religion. He sees metamodernism as ‘a phase embedded in the unfolding of Christendom’ (Bakirov, 2019). ⁹ This unfolding began, according to Bakirov, with the commencement of the 21st century and its ‘sensitivity of the Internet Age’ (Bakirov, 2019). Even though his thesis is arguably very difficult to defend, it is inspiring to give serious consideration to Bakirov’s assertion that metamodernism’s central proposition, namely,

that faith is risky and naïve, yet is worthy to be placed solely in Love — [which] is but another explication of the Crucifixion — where one is abandoned by God and bereft of meaning in the postmodern sense, and yet his love for God and humanity is so unlimited that he is ready to self-sacrifice in its name. (Bakirov, 2019)

Similarly, Brent Cooper theorises metamodernism by introducing liberation theology as a metamodern alternative to postmodernism. For him, postcolonial liberation theology envisaged in terms of the union of Catholicism and social justice represents an effective tool to counter postmodernism that has become subject to secularism and reductionist views of religion. The problem with postmodernism is, on Cooper’s account, that it has failed to live up to its revolutionary aspirations due to its negligence to engage, and even consider Third World populations and minorities in the developed world. As a result, postmodernism has by and large become an elitist western enterprise that is complicit in the dominant secularist and neoliberal ideology. To make the case for his proposal, Cooper provides a ‘Third World’ critique of postmodernism, insisting that the centres of power remain the same despite the deconstructive criticism put forward by postmodernism:

And this strikes to the heart of my own metamodernism and critique; the fact that substantively nothing has changed since becoming aware of the meta-crisis in the 1970s. The centers of power create a new metanarrative of no metanarrative at all, or merely reboot old ones as they see fit. (Cooper, 2019)

In a situation when postmodernism has been coopted by neoliberalism, it is argued, liberation connects new left movements with metamodernism that ‘gives us a broader purpose and stronger faith in our activism. [. . .] It is the spiritual salve and intellectual toolkit we need to get us through the current crisis bottleneck’ (Cooper, 2019). ¹⁰

Such understandings of metamodernism open venues for theological dialogue, making this concept attractive also for theological anthropology. And it is this kind of endeavour that I would like to pursue in the rest of this article. Using select themes central to metamodernism, I will seek to explore what challenges and opportunities the recent shift of the dominant ‘structure of feeling’ or ‘cultural paradigm’ from postmodernism to metamodernism one needs to address when inquiring into the theme of being human from a Christian perspective.

Transcendence

As I have shown in the previous section, the new ‘structure of feeling’ called metamodernism has witnessed a resurgence in transcendence. As Brendan Dempsey observes, in the metamodern era transcendence has become viable once more – or perhaps reconceived (cf. Dempsey, 2014). However, Dempsey seems to understand transcendence in a peculiar and theologically challenging way as, for him, this notion is inseparable from the timeless and the acontextual. ¹¹ Understandably, then, transcendence is conceived over against its opposite, namely, immanence. For Dempsey, the term ‘God’ signifies a conceptual paradigm that can best be elucidated by the philosophical dichotomy of immanent/transcendent:

In this dichotomy the immanent denotes essentially the physical world as such, the domain of empirical phenomena and of our sense perceptions. The transcendent, by contrast, posits a meta-physical reality, which exists beyond or outside of the material world, more fundamental in vantage and essence. (Dempsey, 2014)

Unlike premodern people, however, metamodern people need to adopt what can be labeled as ‘informed naivety’ to appropriate this sense of transcendence, which, for them, emerges from and is ultimately restrained by the interpreter’s immanent framework: ‘It is indeed an “informed naiveté” a sense of transcendence arising out of and ultimately held in check by the acknowledged immanent frame’ (Dempsey, 2014, emphasis added). In the metamodernist understanding, therefore, immanence as the domain of empirical phenomena seems to ultimately reign over transcendence.

This situation creates space for a possibly fruitful reflection from a Christian perspective. The theological concept of incarnation might be useful for this discussion, introducing God, or transcendence, as taking the initiative to break into the sphere of immanence. This breaking in of transcendence into immanence, in theological language referred to as God-made-flesh, is admittedly one of the central tenets (if not the central tenet) of Christianity, scripturally portrayed as a ‘fleshly event’ of God’s embodiment in the human Jesus as especially John’s gospel clearly accentuates (cf. Goss, 2006: 550). To be sure, the incarnation can helpfully be interpreted in terms of God’s deep identification with human existence as one in and of the body, thus illuminating the inter-dynamic of transcendence and immanence. Sacramentally, this conviction finds an expression in the eucharist, which involves, through the symbolic eating and drinking of Christ’s body and blood, a double dynamic of God participating in human life, ‘at the core of materiality, at the heart of flesh’, and of humankind participating in divine life (cf. Méndez-Montoya, 2014: 335). The mystery of the incarnation speaks about a God who chooses to dwell among people in the flesh in order to redeem flesh (cf. Labrecque, 2017).

The major point where this understanding differs from the metamodernist position described above is the fact that transcendence does not fundamentally arise out of and is not held in check by the immanent framework – quite the contrary. And yet, the important metamodernist emphasis on ‘informed naivety’ should never be lost as it reminds us of something that is, after all, essential to the concept of the incarnation itself, namely, that immanence is of crucial, and not merely auxiliary, value. To put it differently, it helps us not to lose sight of that fact that the Christian doctrine of the incarnation stands or falls with the body (immanence) as a sine qua non component of the image of God (cf. Joustra, 2017: 15–16).

At the same time, however, it is the doctrine of the incarnation that recalls an important theological, anthropological and missiological insight, namely, that human reception of transcendence is never context-free. To the contrary, it is built upon the premise that humans always encounter transcendence in particular contexts. In other words, the way Christian theology interprets the incarnation and its effects has an impact on the ways Christians are called to think and act in their day-to-day existence and in their concrete settings. The thoughts of TJ Gorringe are useful to shed light on this point. Interpreting it as ‘the mutual moulding of nature and spirit’, the incarnation represents for Gorringe the concept for holding both true universalism and true particularism together (cf. Gorringe, 2004: 18 and 101). With its acknowledgement of and appreciation for the immanent reality with its inherent diversity, the incarnation further represents a safeguard for maintaining differences. To maintain this view, it is crucial, together with Gorringe, to regard the incarnation not as a mere philosophical first principle but rather as ‘a way of reading a particular historical event, the life and death of a first century Jew, as revelatory of the Wholly Other’ (Gorringe, 2004: 126). The scriptures that render the story of Jesus thus ‘generate liberative and humanizing practice’ and subvert ideologies and hegemonies imposed by powers that be (cf. Gorringe, 2004: 118). The scriptures ultimately enable this process of generation and subversion in two ways, namely, through the life story of Jesus of Nazareth and through the movement of Jesus’ disciples engendered throughout history. In this process, transcendence helps interpret immanence to facilitate the progressive change that metamodernism seeks to pursue in its reconstructionist endeavours.

Optimism and Hope

Seth Abramson construes metamodernism as a negotiator between modernism and postmodernism through ‘a romantic response to crisis’, which means ‘essentially, asking that we remain optimistic in the face of our postmodernism-enabled hopelessness and act “as if” things will get better (even if we don’t necessarily think they will)’ (Abramson, 2017b). From this Abramson extrapolates that the objective of metamodernism is to reconstruct that which has been deconstructed with ‘a view toward reestablishing hope and optimism in the midst of a period (the postmodern period) marked by irony, cynicism, and despair’ (Abramson, 2017b). ¹²

It is refreshing to observe this recovery of meaning in metamodernism as it intentionally tries to refashion, indeed reconstruct, the old stories of goodwill and hope into new ‘fundamentally optimistic’ narratives – despite ‘the facts on the ground’ that go against such conviction (cf. Abramson, 2017b). Nevertheless, on closer theological inspection, a significant flaw appears in this position. It lies in the fact that optimism and hope, the two central concepts here, seem to be used as synonyms. Such conflation of the two categories is no exception even in academic literature. In his research on the role of religion in producing optimism as a key factor for sustaining societies, for example Oliver Bennett explicitly states that ‘optimism can be seen as a stronger version of hope, with which it is often used interchangeably’ (Bennett, 2011: 116, note 3).

For theological reflection, however, it would be salient to seriously consider the difference between optimism and hope. One could argue, from a theological perspective, that while the latter is desirable, the former is not necessary. Terry Eagleton in his Hope Without Optimism makes a powerful case for the dichotomy of the two concepts. Eagleton criticises optimism as being philosophically irrelevant due to its oblivion of the messiness of life and of tragedy, thus detaching people from reality (cf. Eagleton, 2015: 2). Being one of the hallmarks of modernism, optimism believes in progress and constant advancement of the state of the world, thus effectively buttressing the status quo and disabling transformation. On the contrary, hope takes seriously the facts about the reality we live in. And yet, it insists that life has meaning, that it is worthy of living. For Christians, hope has its foundations in the gospel story of God acknowledging the life and work of Jesus of Nazareth in the act of his resurrection. As Eagleton maintains,

the kingdom of God brings to fruition a pattern of transfigurative moments immanent within [history], a fractured narrative of justice and comradeship. [. . .] It is as though there is a coded pattern of hope woven into the fabric of history, a subtext whose letters are dispersed throughout its texture and will be assembled into a fully legible narrative only on Judgment Day. Only then, looking back on the course of secular history, will the secret compact between this and that strike for justice be visible, and all these events revealed as aspects of a single redemptive project. (Eagleton, 2015: 28)

Hope emerges from the creative tension between the unwillingness to accept present injustice and a conviction that transformation and fulfilment are possible. Eagleton concludes:

For there to be genuine hope, the future must be anchored in the present. It cannot simply irrupt into it from some metaphysical outer space. At the same time, the yeast-like powers at work in the present do so in a way that finally surpasses its limits, pointing to a condition beyond our current imaginings. (Eagleton, 2015: 38)

Both Christianity and metamodernism share the view that we now live in a post-optimistic age. As such, they realise that the future of the humankind can be in jeopardy for various reasons, many of them human-induced. Nevertheless, people are not to become paralysed by the bleakness of the current state of affairs but rather be carried by hope that always implies ‘a motivation to take concrete steps, to a committed attempt to “put the world to rights”’ (Hošek, 2015: 39). For metamodernism, this commitment and motivation are enabled by what I would call a type of let’s-save-the-world activism tempered by irony in which ‘human beings take responsibility as co-creators of our own socially constructed universe’ (Freinacht, 2017). While Vermeulen and van den Akker acknowledge that the purpose of the history will never be fulfilled since there is none, they nevertheless plead for acting as if it did (cf. Vermeulen and van den Akker, 2010). For theologians, this ‘as if’ attitude is reminiscent of the Bonhoefferian etsi Deus non daretur. However, theology also presents Pascal’s wager to live ‘as if God does exist’, thus offering the Christian understanding of hope for consideration by metamodernism. Instead of viewing the contemporary narrative of human existence as fundamentally optimistic, therefore, metamodernism and Christianity can in mutual interaction adopt an ‘informed naivety’ approach that is hopeful about human life characterised by commitment, purpose and vision, in the face of the brokenness of the world.

Multiple Subjectivities

In his list of 10 basic principles of metamodernism, Seth Abramson proposes the notion of multiple subjectivities as one of the essential features of metamodernism. This idea has to do with the reality that all people not only occupy many and various categories of identity all at once, but they also share, for shorter or longer periods of time, subjectivities with other people who might otherwise be very different from them (cf. Abramson, 2017a). ¹³ This condition creates a potential for another ‘basic principle’ that metamodernism advocates, namely, collaboration among various individuals and social groups.

In an attempt to initiate a metamodern academic study of religion, Michel Clasquin-Johnson makes yet another important point on the topic of multiple subjectivities and identities. He observes that the metamodernist perspective liberates us from the necessity to clarify why people today do not see any problems in, for example practicing yoga, studying Kabbalah and going to church – all at the same time, without feeling obliged to ‘solidify the new syncretic lifestyle into a new “Something-ism”’ (Clasquin-Johnson, 2017). As such, metamodernism does not call for the destruction of the existing categories of identity, religious or otherwise, and their replacement by new amalgamated super-categories. Moreover, one does well to acknowledge that while postmodernism was hesitant with respect to combining different subjectivities because of the fear of their inevitable destruction in this process, metamodernism maintains that the coming together of various identities empowers them (cf. Abramson, 2017b).

For Christian theological anthropology, the negotiation of subjectivities is an important locus for relating to the other as it counters the commonly spread and potentially dangerous tendency of people living their lives encapsulated in ‘filter bubbles’. In this sense, it is a permanent task for Christians to do everything they can to introduce the church as a platform for developing multiple subjectivities, giving people opportunities to retain, foster and celebrate the manifold and mutually differing ethnic, cultural, social and other dimensions of their identity to be indeed the pluralistic body of Christ, which is, nevertheless, called to witness to the good news in a harmony of its diverse voices. That is the way, I would argue, to pursue the project of fostering and sustaining communion with human and non-human others and God that contemporary theological anthropology calls us to.

To facilitate the collaboration anchored in the recognition of multiple subjectivities as discussed above, dialogue is essential as a method preferred to dialectics. ¹⁴ Dialogue, in the metamodernist understanding, is marked by the in-betweenness of irony and sincerity, which echoes the concepts of a hermeneutics of faith and a hermeneutics of suspicion as distinguished by Paul Ricoeur (see, for instance Ricoeur, 1970 and 1981). This intriguing in-betweenness (metaxy), as even those who are skeptical about the prospects of rapprochement of Christianity and metamodernism recognise, ‘opens up the heart to the possibility of redemption and restoration that was mocked by postmodernism’ (Torres, 2019). Furthermore, the metamodernist dialogical approach entertains an existential and epistemological mode engendered by the acknowledgement that issues related to transcendence must be addressed with humility, patience and sensitivity. Referring to the Christian theological notion of apophaticism, Denys Bakirov, therefore, asserts that ‘it is easy to see when metamodernists speak that they are incomparably closer to Christian metaphysics, ethos, etc., than, say, modernists or postmodernists. They sound deeply spiritual in their striving towards things transcendent and sacred’ (cf. Bakirov, 2019).

For its part, Christian theology has also a contribution to make to this discussion on multiple subjectivities, I would argue, through a theologically and anthropologically salient notion of the imagination. An ultimately elusive concept, the imagination can perhaps best be described as a complex faculty that engages one’s whole person, including physical, intellectual, emotional and spiritual dimensions as well as one’s history and experience with the aim of producing meaning with regard to the reality one lives in. The imagination can be viewed as a kind of mediator that brings human faculties as well as experiences, feelings, beliefs and convictions together in the quest of making meaning of reality (cf. also Ivancic, 2006: 127). In theological anthropology, the imagination can be appreciated for its holistic purview as it considers humans as beings enmeshed in multiple webs of relationships with human and non-human others and God. ¹⁵ In this sense, the imagination seeks to relate the outer world to one’s inner world. The aim of the imagination in a theological understanding does not lie in mere day-dreaming but rather in an intentional and continuous effort striving to bring about transformation.

At the same time, however, one must always bear in mind that the imagination is an ultimately ambivalent concept. It is deeply flawed. In Kenneth Burke’s famous words, one can imagine not only a perfect world but also a perfect atomic warhead (cf. Burke, 1966: 22). From a Christian perspective, this condition is seen as a result of sin. The ambivalence of the imagination was challenged and overcome in Jesus of Nazareth. The ‘human imagination was shattered by Jesus’ story only to acquire a completely new quality and an opportunity for a brand new beginning’ (Bargár, 2016: 172). It is in response to the transforming power of the Christ-event that the human imagination can witness to the coming reign of God. This transformation of the imagination is essentially a gift; it is a result of God’s mercy. Praying for it and being open to it, it is through the ‘imagination that one can integrate God’s story into one’s own story, thus reflecting God’s image in which one has been created’ (Bargár, 2016: 172).

Resonating with some of the crucial emphases of metamodernism, this understanding of the imagination has (at least) three important implications for our discussion. First, the imagination helps appropriate one’s tradition faithfully, yet creatively. Second, it celebrates diversity, thus providing a viable alternative for responsible life in the polis. And finally, it engenders hope that has the potential to bridge the dichotomy of ‘already’ and ‘not yet’ in one’s pursuits of transcendence. ¹⁶ These insights are of much importance for theological anthropology as they help us recognise that identity formation is a complex and always provisional process that has, nevertheless, deep implications for the ways people relate to and cooperate with each other, regardless of their faith profession.

Conclusion

This article argued that the involvement in dialogue is desirable for Christians with the emerging sensibility, labelled as metamodernism, through which people relate to, reflect on, and are encouraged to act in the world. Having shown the signs of a renewed interest in and a quest for transcendence, it was asserted that there is a potential for fruitful exchange, bringing together the metamodernist ‘informed naivety’ with the Christian notion of the incarnation. The attitude of ‘informed naivety’ is also vital for the rediscovery of hope as an essential factor nourishing one’s approach to life, in spite of and, truly, with serious consideration given to the brokenness and messiness of the world. Finally, it was demonstrated that metamodernism, in its typical paradoxical and juxtapositional fashion, takes delight in and benefits from multiple subjectivities that are able to dwell and work together, rather than being held hostage to the plurality of mutually estranged identities.

Concluding from this discussion, I would like to suggest that metamodernism possibly represents a stimulating intellectual impulse for Christian theology and mission. With metamodernism having presumably overcome the impasse of postmodern irony, skepticism, and the endless process of deconstruction, there are new impulses for theological anthropology in its continuous endeavour of reflecting on the human condition vis-à-vis the relationship to others, the world and God. Furthermore, there also seem to be more venues for witness, dialogue, and collaboration between Christians and the people who take the metamodernist approach to life for their own, both at theoretical and practical levels. I would, therefore, like to propose that this momentum should be viewed by Christians as an exciting ‘paradigm shift’ that they are to embrace critically, yet affirmatively, taking to the next step the Edinburgh 2010 study group’s call to engage with postmodernities as a fundamental part of Christian mission today.