xbn .

The triangulation of money, sovereignty, and divinity is a good point of entry to study the mutual constitution of theological and political concepts and the questions about ultimate value and social form that they raise.

I want to begin with a familiar story from the New Testament about the payment of taxes. This story (as told in Mark’s gospel) begins with the Pharisees and Herodians trying to get Jesus to say something incriminating in public so that they would have grounds to report him to the authorities. Knowing that Jesus authorized himself to teach, they asked him whether it was lawful for Jews to pay taxes to the Roman emperor. Jesus caught on to their attempt to set him up, and he responded, saying:

“Why are you putting me to the test? Bring me a denarius and let me see it.” And they brought one. Then he said to them, “Whose head is this, and whose title?” They answered, “The emperor’s.” Jesus said to them, “Give to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s, and to God the things that are God’s” (Mark 12:15-17).

While most readings of this passage are concerned with the distinction between divine and earthly authority, what is of interest to me is that the sovereignty of the emperor is indicated through the representation of his image on coins. What this shows is that there is a deep connection between money, sovereignty, and theology. This connection is disavowed in the kinds of monetary theories one finds in standard economics textbooks. There, the account of money goes something like this: Economics is about the management of scarce resources undertaken by private actors pursuing their own self-interest, a task which entails the exchange of goods. A problem arises when it becomes apparent that people don’t want the same stuff and therefore do not always want what other people have to offer. This problem is solved by the invention of money, which in the words of a recently published McGraw Hill Economics textbook, operates as “a convenient social invention to facilitate exchanges of goods and services.” While the state plays an important role in regulating the market and establishing rules for transactions, it is not involved in the institution of the market or the emergence of money. Instead, market exchange and monetary systems are said to arise organically from human nature as opposed to politics. This story about the origins of money is so commonplace that Michel Aglietta and André Orléan argue that the refusal to grant a constitutive role to politics is one of the defining characteristics of economics as a field.

Breaking from the textbook economic position, others have sought to emphasize the political nature of money by highlighting the fundamental role of state power in the institution of monetary order. From the empires of the Ancient Near East to the modern international order, the monetization of societies—the process whereby direct social obligations are mediated by forms of currency (which serve as units of account and means of payment among other things)—has been intrinsically related to practices of state-building and militarism. The consolidation of centralized authority and its bureaucratic apparatus are necessary conditions for the establishment of a large-scale imperial accounting system that operates through the production and circulation of money.

That being said, money has both vertical (pertaining to the state) and horizontal (pertaining to the relationships between non-state social actors) dimensions. The difference between money’s horizontal and vertical functions speaks to what Michel Aglietta calls its “ambivalent character.” On the one hand, money serves to coordinate economic activity in state-based societies with specific social obligations (such as payment of taxes) directed towards the state for bureaucratic and military purposes. On the other hand, money serves to coordinate economic activity in societies where the social bond is produced through a network of credit relations between private actors within the political infrastructure instituted by the state. In Aglietta’s words, money is a privately appropriable (concrete or abstract) object that we call liquidity.” As liquidity, money grants universal access to goods and services because it is the general form of wealth. Furthermore, commodities are only equal to one another in relation to money. For instance, if I spend $5 on some oranges, I cannot go to the used bookstore and try and pay for a $5 book in oranges. Thus, what we might call the private and public forms of money are both essential dimensions of money as a social phenomenon.

What is important to understand here is that exchange relations, bound up with politics as monetary order, are also related to institutions of organized violence. Exchange happens within the social relations that these institutions produce. This undermines the standard economic narrative presented above, where exchange relations emerge from our innate inclination toward commercial activity, and political-juridical structures are built upon these natural foundations. But if the state is essential for the institution of the space of exchange itself, then the state is not extrinsic to the economy. What Jesus understands and economists do not is that money is irreducibly political, and that “the economy” is an illusion. If money is tied to the institution of market exchange and to politics more generally, then the liberal-economic position—with its philosophical-anthropological assumptions—must give way to a socio-historical mode of inquiry that begins with the premise that, as André Orléan writes, “economic facts are, at bottom, social facts.”

Breaking from the liberal-economic tendency to render money epiphenomenal is a way into the orbit of political theology. Richard Seaford and Devin Singh draw attention to the relationship between monetization and the development of fundamental theological and philosophical ideas. For Seaford, the crises that emerged following the monetization of Athens in the fifth century BCE  gave rise to metaphysical questions regarding identity and difference, universality and particularity, and questions regarding the nature of reality beneath appearances. “Presocratic metaphysics,” writes Seaford, “involves (without consisting of) unconscious cosmological projection of the universal power and universal exchangeability of the abstract substance of money.” In this way, philosophical problems and social relations are intrinsically related to one another.

Singh identifies related issues within the history of theology by tracking the way that money, monarchy, and monotheism form mutually informative triangles. Money economies require centralized authorities so as to institute a single standard of account and hold the diversity of money’s functions  together under a single political order. This in turn is connected to the question of how the universality of the sovereign’s (e.g. the monarch’s) power relates to the plurality of subjects. The relationship between the singularity of sovereignty and the plurality of its subjects forms the background for philosophical and theological questions regarding the unifying principles of reality as such. Singh explains that to the degree that “political monarchy serves as a screen upon which to project and construct ideas of singular divine rule,” aspects of monetary exchange “may work their way into the assumptions and logic of monotheistic ideals.”

The triangulation of money, sovereignty, and divinity is a good point of entry to study the mutual constitution of theological and political concepts and the questions about ultimate value and social form that they raise. What is at stake here are the principles by which we organize ourselves and the reasons that we give for their legitimacy. This connects political theology to the philosophy of history, for we can track the epochal transformations of societies by looking at shifts in their structures of legitimacy and legitimation, what Sylvia Wynter calls “the sociogenic principle.” We could track the continuity and discontinuity between the monetary crises of late antiquity (and related problems of governance), the complex and varied forms of political rule that characterized the European Middle Ages, and the transition from the medieval period into the modern global-colonial order that defines the present. By engaging with the ethical-political problem of how to organize society, we can return to the remarks of Jesus presented above and recognize an overlap between the question posed to him and the questions we ask ourselves: Who do we serve?

Annotated Bibliography

Seaford, Richard. Money and the Early Greek Mind: Homer, Philosophy, Tragedy. Cambridge, University Press, 2004.

Seaford makes the original argument that the origins of Greek philosophy are rooted in the monetary crises of ancient Athens. Because of the way he ties social practice to the genesis of metaphysics, this text is fundamental for thinking through the relationship between money and philosophy (and by extension theology), but also the relationship between thought and practice in general. On the latter point, Seaford’s argument is similar to Alfred Sohn-Rethel’s concept of “Real Abstraction,” which seeks to explain how abstractions in thought emerge from abstractions in practice.

Singh, Devin. Divine Currency : The Theological Power of Money in the West. Stanford, California, Stanford University Press, 2018.

Divine Currency serves as a much-needed corrective to Agamben’s theological genealogy of economy, which curiously does not have anything to say about money. Singh looks at the way that monetary concepts and metaphors suffuse patristic theology (especially the construction of patristic christologies and soteriologies) and how theological concepts, in turn, shape both economic thought and practice. This book is foundational for understanding the close connection between money and theology.

Goodchild, Philip. Theology of Money. Durham N.C., Duke University Press, 2009.

Goodchild’s Theology of Money is at once an excellent work of social theory—theorizing the relationship between money, sovereignty, and power in modernity—and an exploration of the metaphysical and ethical problems that money brings into view. While Seaford and Singh’s works are more genealogical, Theology of Money is a good companion text, taking up the theoretical questions that their works expose.


Native survivance, in [Gerald] Vizenor’s parlance, is a combination of the words “survival” and “resistance,” and it “creates a sense of presence.” According to him, “The suffix -ance designates a condition, a nature, or a quality that is more than a mere description of survival.”


Where relationality is most productive in critical projects is where it transcends its projects of critique and explores the possibilities—ethical, political, and theological—of its account of subjectivity and community.


Facing the violence of contemporary terror, many intellectuals have spoken in our present times about a return of political theology and religion in its violent forms. Attention to the concept of martyrdom has reappeared due to an increasing interest in religious conflicts.


In autopoiesis, there is no separation between what we do and the particular way in which the world appears to us.


Where state sovereignty as theology would have subjected groups accept their condition with its attending violence and suffering, the micro sovereignty I propose here – not merely as a futuristic idea, but more as a reflection on how subjected groups have dealt with subjection – invites us not to accept that violence and suffering, but to find creative ways out of it through the cracks of Empire.


Abolition is a process of imagining alternatives to the settler colonial, carceral present; it requires modes of kinship and care to replace prisons and policing.

Gratuitous Violence

Signifying a critical homology between the fields of Black studies and political theology, gratuitous violence is an important keyword for interrogating how religio-political concepts can afford unique insights into issues of slavery, race, and the human which continue to inform our world today.  


Asian American literary criticism’s analysis of contemporary orientalisms centered around the figuration of Asian subjectivities reminds political theologians that unconscious (white) fear and fascination with the Orient still guides political and theoretical engagement with the Asian “other.”


Thing as concept can be helpful to elucidate the specific yet ambiguous interaction of the religious and the political. Using recent thingly theoretical work within these two spheres, with an emphasis on body and shape, I will suggest ways through which thing (and things and thingness) both clarifies and challenges that interaction.


Diaspora might be a problem for political progressives for the very reason that it is so alluring. Diaspora promises both freedom and connection: freedom from national borders or the essentialisms of race and language, connection between people who affirm shared memory and heritage.
But heritage is never really free.


If there is one thing that can be said about blackness, it is this: blackness is unruly.

Black Reason

Black reason is propelled by a fantastic imaginary, a changeling animus that aggregates and transmogrifies the desires and fears of whiteness.

Racial Capitalism

The historical and theoretical relationships between race and capitalism are internally contested and in need of further exploration from theologians and scholars of religion.


Sometimes referred to as “population control,” other times “better breeding,” eugenics has been seen as a religious solution to social ills, and sometimes a new religion unto itself.


Gilroy’s “planetary humanism” contributes to political theology by offering more than a critique: in his work, humanism is a starting point, a concept to guide multicultural political projects today.


Official responses to the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic have encouraged us to understand risk in individual terms. They’re wrong: risk is all about interdependence.

Food Sovereignty

Food sovereignty represents a refusal of a globally commodified food system in favor of systems and institutions that support self-sufficient communities.


Doxa is a term used in sociology to contend with belief and orthodoxy without reducing either to behavior or cognition. It explores disposition and embodied belief—the gut sense of the world which is acquired through practice rather than discourse.

Settler Colonialism

I propose Decolonial Settler Theology as a contextual political theology that is uniquely the task of the settler, who must face their own complicity in narratives of ongoing colonization and aim at their undoing.


In an era during which police institutions and ideology are so fundamental to our cultural common-sense, how can theologians and critical theorists challenge this form of power?


This essay takes taboo as a critical term to trace the history of our modern present and as a conceptual companion with which to think through the complex entanglement of the ethical, the theological, and the political.


What is still nascent… is an explicit conversation between political theology and critical theories of affect, particularly in a way that might contribute to constructive projects. The sort of political theology that might emerge from such collaboration would consider how affective regimes intersect with theological constructions or religious performances.


While kinship has traditionally held a vibrant conceptual life in anthropological inquiry, more recent studies on kinship as a form of spiritual relationality have opened up a new space of interdisciplinary exploration for political theology.


The modern state form itself is inextricable from the commandement, not just as an emblem for sovereignty in Schmitt’s sense, but also because the exemplary political form of modernity, the nation-state, has racist and exclusionary tendencies that can be understood as political-theological transfers of monotheistic principles.


That structural violence is always also relational, proximate, and personal is, perhaps, one of the core insights that the concept of mourning brings to the fore for political theology.


The conversation about nature’s personhood and rights is always political, often legal, and sometimes theological. Most importantly, it is a localized conversation about the boundaries of a given community – who is part of the community and who isn’t.


For political theology, we might find ourselves compelled by practices that seek to connect us with our ecologies, our communities, and our relations with ourselves – in ways that are more about humility and provisionality than finding cures or solutions.


Queer, I think, should remain different, differing, dissonant, and plural. It shouldn’t contract or calcify into anything singular or solid.


If theorizations of care are to more directly address the current “crisis of care,” we need not only to prioritize the kinds of embodied, particularized care that care ethics has highlighted in the past, but to explore a wider range of caring relationships and their diverse structures.


A preliminary question for political theology is how to understand the meaning and significance of matter. The response to this question shapes how a political theology does or doesn’t engage political economy and theological tradition.


The triangulation of money, sovereignty, and divinity is a good point of entry to study the mutual constitution of theological and political concepts and the questions about ultimate value and social form that they raise.


Refusal is a strong current resisting the structure of settler colonialism. It crashes, churns, and erodes the death-dealing dams of settler knowing. Its path turns away from the settler’s gaze.


Seva lends itself to easy appropriation across political and religious contexts, while also furnishing mutually intelligible tropes of service, welfare, and social betterment.


Political theology intimately understands that given reality teems with forms of life that remain opaque to us.


Spillers, Cheng, and Halberstam provide us with tools to approach the histories of violence, economics, relationships, desires, and contestation that infuse our experiences with flesh in its multiplicity. Flesh is never neutral.


It is not always possible (or advisable) to separate the “political” from the “religious” or “cultural” in Indigenous contexts. Indeed, all of these are concepts developed by outsiders to describe Indigenous life. Instead, Indigeneity invites scholars of political theology and related fields to consider the relationships between these threads of cultural life.


As we watch the illusion that was Man fall apart, we also see these more-than-human worlds that Man called “animal” disrupting and revealing the cracks and fractures in his own divine intentions.

Temporality I: History

William Apess, like Walter Benjamin a century later, sought to shift the paradigms of society with history and theology as orienting poles for colonial critique. Anticipating Benjamin, Apess looked to those who had been wrecked by the advance of colonialism as the grounding site for historical and political theological inquiry.

Temporality II: Futurity

Both Benjamin and Apess discern that historical narratives are imbricated with notions of futurity, that is, which bodies and polities are allowed to inhabit and thrive within the temporality in which the “not yet” and the “always already” co-constitute each other.


In this short essay, written from my perspective as a Jewish feminist, I draw together a plurality of engagements with natality to engender new conversations in political theology.

Critical Race Theory

CRT is a framework or an approach to understanding the way racism is foundational to systems of judicial, political, social, cultural, religious, and theological power.


[S]ituating demonology more fully in its religious and theological contexts furnishes resources that not only nuance understandings of movements for whom demonization is central, but also recontextualize discussions of core political theological concepts, including sovereignty, power, economy, subjectivity, and freedom.


From Myanmar to Mariupol, from the streets of Memphis to the waves and winds of the Mediterranean Sea: resistance to violence takes many forms. So does political protest against precarity. At which point does the unavoidable vulnerability of the living condition come to expression as political agency? Can such precarious politics constitute or configure an alternative community?

Hunger Strike

“Instead of neatly separating the forms of resistance to biosovereignty into life-affirming struggles and necroresistance and mapping them (and life and death) onto the reform/revolt dichotomy, I suggest that we conceive life and death as relational rather than oppositional categories. For every differentiation and intensification of death creates new possibilities of life; and every differentiation and intensification of life entails experiences of “death” that cannot be reduced to the power of one’s death.”

Like what you're reading?

You have Successfully Subscribed!

Share This

Share this post with your friends!