The religion of Kier vs. the theology of the cross.
Graham Tomlin, ‘Severance,’ and the gospel’s answer to suffering.
I’m currently making my way through Graham Tomlin’s thorough monograph on the theology of the cross, entitled The Power of the Cross: Theology and the Death of Christ in Paul, Luther, and Pascal, in which he examines this crucial theological paradigm from its origination in Paul to its further development in both Martin Luther and Blaise Pascal. For anyone interested in cultivating their grasp of the cross is the keynote from which and around which theology is articulated, Tomlin’s work is vital, even if it is tedious. Within Chapter 4, though, which sees him put the extant philosophies of the Corinthians under a microscope, Tomlin offers an explanation of Epicurean ideology that also serves to clarify the cult-like pseudo-religion of Kier featured in the hit AppleTV+ series Severance. As I explained in a previous post, the undercurrent of Severance is less science fiction and more of an exploration of the human condition through the lens of grief and trauma, complete with obsessively pious religious institutions masquerading as biotech corporations included. The ethos of the tenets of Kier is, perhaps, best explained by Tomlin when he comments on the possible Epicurean influence in Corinth:
The popular image of Epicureanism as unbridled hedonism is of course a caricature, their position on pain and pleasure being much more nuanced. Epicurean physics taught that everything that exists consists of a mixture of matter and void. The gods exist but have no concern for or interest in humankind, being totally indifferent to them, ‘their peaceful homes unshaken by the gale’. Ethics is reduced to seeking a pleasurable life of tranquillity, measured not by intensity of ecstasy, but by absence of pain. In fact, pleasure can be defined as the absence of pain. (64)
Viewed through the paradigm of a dominating and even fanatical endeavor to live a life absent of pain, Severance becomes even more of a dreadful watch than if it was merely a dystopian sci-fi parable. The pious refinement of pain and discomfort serves as the quintessence of the theology of glory, which insists on humanity’s capability to engineer its own salvation via suppression and control. The dogma of Kier, much like Epicureanism, which aims at erasing or “refining” suffering, is a lifeless pursuit that is not only devastating but also damning. After all, if pleasure is understood as the absence of pain, suffering is the ultimate failure. The theology of the cross, however, torpedoes this delusion by underscoring both Christ’s willingness and proclivity to enter the crucible of human suffering, and therein reveal God’s everlasting redemption for sinners and sufferers.
Grace and peace to you.
Works cited:
Graham Tomlin, The Power of the Cross: Theology and the Death of Christ in Paul, Luther, and Pascal, Paternoster Biblical and Theological Monographs (Carlisle, United Kingdom: Paternoster, 1999).