




































[Expositions 4.1&2 (2010) 89-94]  Expositions (online) ISSN: 1747-5376 

The Monstrosity of Protestantism 

JEFFREY W. ROBBINS 

Lebanon Valley College 

 

 

John Milbank was introduced to a broad American academic audience in a high-profile article in 

The Chronicle of Higher Education written by Jeff Sharlet in June 2000.
1
 Introduced as the 

―earthly creator of Radical Orthodoxy,‖ it was here in this article where it was speculated that 

Milbank‘s movement ―may well become the biggest development in theology since Martin 

Luther nailed his 95 theses to the church door.‖ It was a year later that Time Magazine declared 

Milbank a bona fide ―academic star‖ and identified him as one of its seven innovative thinkers 

for the new millennium, crediting him especially with clearing ―a way for theologians to reclaim 

their place at the academic table, ending decades, if not centuries, of marginalization.‖
2  

Of course, those who know Milbank and his work should not be surprised at these exalted 

claims for his place in the history of Christian theology. For instance, in a formal session of the 

annual meeting of the American Academy of Religion, I once heard him declare, ―Martin Luther 

says unto you, justification by faith. But I say unto you, there is no justice without authority.‖ 

With this sudden adoption of King James‘ English and an evocation of the familiar rhetorical 

structuring of Jesus‘ own Sermon on the Mount, it seems Milbank has taken the mantle of Martin 

Luther to heart. 

I begin with this not to traffic in academic gossip, but because I believe this linking of 

Milbank with Luther goes to the heart of Milbank‘s – and by extension, Radical Orthodoxy‘s – 

evolving theological project as revealed in this impressive, and at times (as is always the case 

with Milbank and less so with Žižek) imperious dialogue on the ―monstrosity of Christ,‖ a 

genuinely theological dialogue that hinges on two differing Christological interpretations which 

give way to two opposing versions of materialism. Put briefly, I might sum up what I mean by 

this link between Milbank and Luther with the reference points of ―history‖ and the ―Protestant 

Reformation.‖ And my thesis is as follows: By his counter-narrative trope of constructing an 

alternative history to modernity, Milbank has defined the school of Radical Orthodoxy according 

to the principle task of undoing the Protestant Reformation. So, if in fact Radical Orthodoxy 

proves to be the biggest development in theology since Martin Luther (a proposition of which I 

am highly skeptical, by the way), and if in fact Milbank has his way, we might pretend as if the 

social, cultural, political, and religious torment that was the protestant reformation never 

happened at all, and by extension, the Christian church might once again revel in the glory of 

Christendom.  

If this thesis strikes some as exaggerated, at the very least I must cite Milbank‘s own stated 

goal of converting Žižek from the ―Whiggish Protestant‖ that Milbank reads him to be into the 

Catholic that he might become. As the subtitle to this book indicates, the debate between 



The Monstrosity of Protestantism  90 

Milbank and Žižek is on whether a paradoxical or dialectical perspective is best.
3
 As Milbank 

tells it, it is Žižek‘s endorsement of a Hegelian dialectic that makes him all-too-Protestant; and 

further, ―it is the dialectical perspective itself which engenders the nihilistic version of Christian 

universalism‖ (112). So, if by Milbank‘s telling, dialectics are a ―symptom‖ of an essentially 

modern, Protestant metanarrative, and if dialectics engender nihilism, then wouldn‘t we be 

correct to conclude that Protestantism is a form of nihilism? We might read Milbank‘s rejoinder 

to Žižek, therefore, not only as an ironic reading of Žižek – an effort to out-Žižek Žižek, if you 

will – but also an effort to save Žižek from himself, to cure him of his ill-informed and 

superficial appropriation of Protestantism. As Milbank announces, ―My case is that there is a 

different, latent Žižek: a Žižek who does not see Chesterton as sub-Hegel, but Hegel as sub-

Chesterton. A Žižek therefore who has remained with paradox, or rather moved back into 

paradox from dialectics. And this remaining would be sufficient to engender a Catholic Žižek, a 

Žižek able fully to endorse a transcendent God, in whom creatures analogically participate‖ 

(113). 

Milbank‘s repudiation of Protestantism is part and parcel of his rejection of history. As 

Milbank explains: 

 

The defense of paradox has to be conjoined with a refusal of the Protestant 

metanarrative in which Žižek is in thrall. In fact, at both the theoretical and the 

historical level the issue of Catholic versus Protestant is far more fundamental than the 

question of theism versus atheism – the latter is merely a subplot of the former conflict, 

which is today notably resurfacing. The key illusion of the Protestant metanarrative is 

that the mode in which modernity has occurred, and the stages that it has gone through, 

are the necessary and only possible modes and stages. (114) 

 

This extended quote needs considerable unpacking. First, note how Milbank speaks of the intra-

religious relations between Catholic and Protestant as a conflict in which Catholics are pitted 

against Protestants. Second, note the sly association of modern history with an illusion, as if our 

history is something from which we can pick and choose, or repudiate and reverse. I will take 

each one of these observations up in turn. 

First, concerning the intimation of violence suggested by this quote, this has long been a 

source of concern for critics of Radical Orthodoxy. Going back to Sharlet‘s article from the 

Chronicle of Higher Education that introduced Milbank to the American academic world, he was 

correct to point out that ―of the various strains of postliberal theology, Radical Orthodoxy is by 

far the most political.‖
4
 This is partly due to the Christian socialist background in Britain, but 

even more Radical Orthodoxy could be seen as a harbinger of the recent political turn in 

philosophical and theological circles. Certainly since the September 11 attacks on New York 

City and Washington, D.C., there has been a consuming interest in the relation between religion 

and politics and the specter of religious violence. This geopolitical reality reinforces 

electioneering strategies on the U.S. domestic front as George W. Bush was twice elected as 



91  Robbins 

 

president in great part due to the effective political mobilization of the religious right. Also, this 

so-called political turn reflects a generational change within the world of continental philosophy 

as leading French post-structuralist thinkers whose post-political identities were forged during 

the student protests of May 1968 have given way to outspoken critics who have been willing to 

venture forth with their own explicit political programs. This new generation of continental 

philosophical thinkers led by Alain Badiou, Giorgio Agamben, and Antonio Negri have been 

most critical of how easily classical modern liberalism mutates, or can be conflated with, 

globalizing neo-liberalism; and in a related fashion, how difficultly postmodern deconstruction 

can translate itself into a politics of collective action. As one scholar puts it, ―The tragedy of the 

politics of subjectivity (at least the Derridean version therof) is that it has no way of inserting the 

subject into the domain of the actually political.‖
5
 Thus, this new generation of thinkers is 

offering up an alternative postmodernism that is deliberately post-liberal more so than post-

structural, and as such, a repoliticization of cultural theory.  

Both Žižek and Milbank belong within this general trajectory of the political turn, a point 

made at the very outset of this volume in Creston Davis‘s masterful introduction that sets the 

stage for the respective debate between these two towering figures: ―In the pages that follow,‖ 

Davis writes, ―the orthodox Christian theologian John Milbank and the militant Marxist Slavoj 

Žižek engage one another around this revolutionary political problematic: How can the 

theological and the material unite to fund resistance to capitalist nihilism‖ (4). But if it is a 

revolutionary political problematic that Milbank shares in common with Žižek and which 

distinguishes Radical Orthodoxy from the other variants of post-liberal theology, then it is 

incumbent to ask, as Sharlet did in his article for the Chronicle a decade ago, what exactly does 

Milbank believe – or more precisely, of what precisely would a radical orthodox politics consist? 

In addressing this question, Sharlet speculated then that ―maybe orthodoxy sounds like theocracy 

[. . .] More to the point, then, one wonders whether a Radical Orthodox world might resemble a 

premodern one, in which the church ruled, and heretics, instead of waxing philosophical in 

endowed chairs, were burned alive at the stake.‖
6
  

To be sure, to be political does not mean to be violent, or to sanction political violence, but 

there is this nagging sense articulated by Sharlet and repeated many times over that Milbank and 

the school of Radical Orthodox theology he represents are unapologetic Christian triumphalists. 

The question is whether this specter of violence is an inevitable consequence of its metaphysical 

predilection. This would certainly be the argument of a contemporary such as Gianni Vattimo, a 

post-metaphysical hermeneutic philosopher who has made the direct link between the history of 

metaphysics and violence. Indeed, Vattimo has argued that the very idea of metaphysics is a 

violent imposition.
7
 Likewise with John Caputo, who in an earlier published review of this 

debate between Milbank and Žižek asks, ―Why not adopt the post-metaphysical idea that gives 

up searching for all such primordial underlying somethings or other?‖ The reason this post-

metaphysical idea might be preferable, Caputo suggests, is that it would avoid the violence that 

is apparent throughout the book, both from Žižek, who, as Caputo writes, does not have ―the 

slightest compunction about invoking violence‖ and from Milbank, who ―batters our ears with a 



The Monstrosity of Protestantism  92 

barrage of rhetorical violence, with the vintage violence of theological imperialism.‖
8
 Like 

Vattimo, Caputo harbors a suspicion about metaphysics and concludes his review with the 

observation of how ―this polemic about the metaphysics of Christ‖ somehow squeezes out 

entirely the peaceful and peace-loving Jesus of the Sermon on the Mount.  

Before turning to the issue of Milbank‘s rejection of history as evidenced in this volume, 

more must be said about this post-metaphysical theological challenge. But incidentally, it is 

Žižek, not Milbank, who directly takes up this challenge, and he does so by referencing Vattimo 

and Caputo specifically by way of a rebuttal of their respective post-metaphysical and 

deconstructive variants of postmodern theology – variants that Žižek labels as ―soft‖ postmodern 

theology (260). Žižek begins this rebuttal with a pronouncement of a changing of the guard from 

Derrida and Habermas to Agamben and Badiou, or put otherwise, from ethico-politico 

philosophies of otherness to ―its theologico-political turn: a decidedly materialist focus on [a] 

theological topic [. . .] ; a radical political stance inclusive of a critical attitude toward democracy 

– to put it in a vicious way, democracy is not to come, but to go‖ (255). This is to be ―the first 

true taste of ‗thought of the twenty-first century‘‖ (255). Then after summarizing the common 

features in both Caputo‘s and Vattimo‘s narration of the so-called postmodern return of religion, 

Žižek goes on to insist on a familiar theme to his previous work on religion – namely, the 

subversive and perverse core of Christianity.
9
 For Žižek, Caputo and Vattimo pass from the 

trauma of the death of God to the death of the death of God in the postmodern return of religion 

too quickly and easily. By this (soft) reading, the death of God is rendered a happy event – a 

shedding of the moral-metaphysical God of ontotheology and a reawakening of genuinely 

biblical faith and a more authentic form of religiosity. But on the contrary, ―what dies on the 

Cross,‖ Žižek insists, ―is indeed God himself, not just his ‗finite container,‘ a historically 

contingent name or form of God‖ (257). Žižek continues, ―The only way to redeem the 

subversive core of Christianity is therefore to return to death-of-God theology‖ (260). And 

finally, Žižek concludes: 

 

It is thus not that death-of-God theology is a middle-of-the-road phenomenon, partially 

negating the classical onto-theology while remaining within its horizon, which is truly 

left behind only with postmodern deconstructive religion; it is rather that something 

traumatic erupts in death-of-God theology, something that is covered up by postmodern 

theology. We should go even further here: what if the entire history of Christianity, 

inclusive of (and especially) its Orthodox versions, is structured as a series of defenses 

against the traumatic apocalyptic core of incarnation/death/resurrection? (260) 

 

By this exchange Žižek shows himself as an adept theological thinker, which gives credence to 

his attempt at the revitalization of death-of-God theology through his seemingly oxymoronic 

atheistic theological materialism. His contribution to this debate is more theological than it is 

philosophical, anthropological, or even religious in that it is concerned with the being and nature 

of God by asking the core question of Christology. Indeed, along the way he even takes his 



93  Robbins 

 

materialists forerunners, Feuerbach and Marx, to task by identifying ―the limit of the 

Feuerbaching-Marxian logic of dis-alienation‖ (75). In this way, Žižek not only rises to the post-

metaphysical theological challenge, but also provides the contours of what might be termed a 

new materialism.  

There is nothing in this that should lead one to think that Žižek is merely a Johnny-come-

lately playing in the field of theologians, or that his engagement with religion is merely an ironic 

strategy – or in the words of Caputo, a ―Trojan-horse theology.‖
10 

Perhaps it is the case that 

Žižek can come to his conclusions just as easily by Lacan or Hitchcock as by Christ, but there is 

no denying that when it comes to his analysis of the meaning of Christ‘s death on the cross he 

has the power to evoke the original scandal of the gospel as well, if not better, than any other 

contemporary thinker. And further, this reminder of the scandal of the gospel is an important and 

timely corrective to the triumphalistic tendencies of Christianity, as well as to the facile, self-

help, or fundamentalist tendencies of contemporary religion. As Žižek writes, ―Christ‘s death on 

the Cross thus means that we should immediately ditch the notion of God as a transcendent 

caretaker who guarantees the happy outcome of our acts, the guarantee of historical teleology—

Christ‘s death on the Cross is the death of this God, it repeats Job‘s stance, it refuses any ‗deeper 

meaning‘ that obfuscates the brutal reality of historical catastrophes‖ (55). And on this point at 

least, Žižek stands together with Caputo and Vattimo and against Milbank in fully sharing the 

idea ―of Christ as a weak God, a God reduced to a compassionate observer of human misery, 

unable to intervene or help‖ (55). 

Which brings me back to the issue of history, and Milbank‘s counter-narrative trope: where 

Žižek‘s atheistic theological materialism leads him to an embrace of the void and to the 

conclusion of the essential meaninglessness of human history, Milbank‘s orthodox theological 

materialism leads him to a position he terms a ―more Catholic historiography‖ that reads modern 

history as a ―distortion‖ (116). While this modern history is ―full of authentically Christian 

developments,‖ Milbank admits, it has led to ―horrendous distortions‖ because it has been 

allowed to occur ―outside a proper Catholic aegis‖ (117). Along the way, while defending a 

paternalism modified ―with a greater humility and attentiveness to populist feedback‖ (127), 

Milbank links Protestantism with atheism (117), calls capitalism ―a mode of Protestant religion‖ 

(127) that provides ―theological legitimation of a new sort of ‗amoral‘ economic practice‖ (129), 

and ultimately finds in Protestant Christianity nothing but ―totalitarian gloom‖ (131). 

Correlatively, it is the ―pre-Cartesian Catholic metaphysical vision‖ that truly makes possible the 

joy of sex and universal love. Further, ―whereas Žižek‘s atheism achieves only a sad, resigned 

materialism,‖ Milbank claims that it is his Catholic perspective that ―achieves a materialism in a 

joyful, positive sense‖ (125). 

It is hard to know whether to take this unrelenting denigration of Protestantism seriously or 

not. My main contention is that what it truly reveals is that Milbank does not take history 

seriously. He repeatedly accuses Žižek of buying into a Protestant narrative of progress and 

treating history as a series of inevitable advances. Meanwhile he makes much of his own version 

of an ―alternative Trinitarian modernity‖ (192, 209) and a ―more humanist Reformation‖ (115) as 



The Monstrosity of Protestantism  94 

the road not taken.  Admittedly, his vision of a world in which post-Reformation dogmatics and 

interreligious violence would not have dominated early modern European life, of ―less dualism 

of nature and grace in theory and of secular and sacred in practice — with the upshot that 

economic and political institutions might have remained more ecclesiastically shaped, even 

though now more lay-directed‖ (115), is a beautiful and enticing one. But wishing it so does not 

make it so. Whether pretending that we could have a more humble paternalism that is now 

attentive to populist feedback or a return to a church monopoly under a proper Catholic aegis that 

is now more lay-directed, it is vision predicated on such a complete flight of fancy that it requires 

more than a leap of faith; it is a willful denial and denigration of history.  

Our history may very well be a misbegotten path, but there is a great distance between the 

notion that the modern world is the historical triumph of the necessary outworking of a material 

logic and the notion that we may reverse or repudiate our history at our whim. It is true that our 

history is full of latent possibilities and of roads not taken, but the way to build a different and 

better future does not come by way of denial. Beware of the return of the repressed. 

 

 

Notes 

 

1. Jeff Sharlet, ―Theologians Seek to Claim the World with God and Postmodernism.‖ The 

Chronicle of Higher Education 46, issue 42 (June 23, 2000): A.20. 

2. David Van Biema, ―Thinkers: God as Postmodern.‖ Time Magazine (December 17, 2001), 

http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1001474,00.html#ixzz0y7OF5c76. 

3. Slavoj Žižek and John Milbank, The Monstrosity of Christ: Paradox or Dialectic? ed. Creston 

Davis (Cambridge, MA: The MIT Press, 2009).  

4. Sharlet, ―Theologians Seek to Claim the World with God and Postmodernism.‖ 

5. Kenneth Surin, ―Rewriting the Ontological Script of Liberation: On the Question of Finding a 

New Kind of Political Subject,‖ in Theology and the Political: The New Debate. Ed. Davis, 

Creston et al. (Durham: Duke University Press, 2005): 240–266, 255. 

6. Sharlet, ―Theologians Seek to Claim the World with God and Postmodernism.‖ 

7. Gianni Vattimo and John D. Caputo, After the Death of God, ed. Jeffrey W. Robbins (New York: 

Columbia University Press, 2007), 93. 

8. John D. Caputo, Review of The Monstrosity of Christ: Paradox or Dialectic? By Slavoj Žižek 

and John Milbank, ed. Creston Davis, Notre Dame Philosophical Reviews, 

http://ndpr.nd.edu/review.cfm?id=17605. 

9. For instance, see: Slavoj Žižek, The Puppet and the Dwarf: the Perverse Core of Christianity 

(Cambridge: The MIT Press, 2003). 

10. Caputo, Review of Monstrosity of Christ. This is an important part of Caputo‘s critique of Žižek. 

For instance, towards the conclusion of his review of this volume in Notre Dame Philosophical 

Reviews, Caputo writes, ―We all know that Žižek can very well make his main case with no 

mention of Christ at all, that he can use the seminars of Lacan, the films of Alfred Hitchcock or 

the novels of Stephen King just as well. His whole point, as he says elsewhere, is subversive: to 

build a Trojan-horse theology, to slip the nose of a more radical materialism under the Pauline 

tent of theology in order to announce the death of God.‖ 


