Chapter 5 – Derrida and the Collapse of Meaning
Jacques Derrida is often remembered for one slippery word: deconstruction. With it, he launched a movement that dismantled the confidence of modern thought. Where modernity had sought clarity, logic, and meaning, Derrida exposed cracks in the very structure of language itself. To read Derrida is to enter a world where meanings multiply, definitions unravel, and certainty dissolves.
This chapter explores Derrida’s central insights into language, meaning, and interpretation, and contrasts them with the biblical view of words as carriers of truth—grounded not in human constructs but in divine Logos.
Language as Slippery Ground
Derrida’s core claim is deceptively simple: meaning is never stable. Every word refers to other words, which in turn refer to yet more words. There is no final anchor. He called this endless chain of references différance—a pun in French that suggests both difference and deferral. Meaning is always different from what we think, and always deferred to something else.
Unlike traditional philosophers who sought clarity, Derrida reveled in ambiguity. He showed how binary oppositions—light/dark, reason/emotion, man/woman—were not natural categories but cultural constructions. Every system that claims order secretly hides its exclusions.
Deconstruction: Reading Against the Grain
Deconstruction is not mere destruction. Derrida’s goal was not to demolish texts, but to show that texts deconstruct themselves. They contain internal contradictions, hidden assumptions, and repressed meanings. To deconstruct is to read with suspicion—to ask what is being left out, what voices are silenced, what binaries are enforced.
This approach has had profound implications. In literature, it reoriented reading from authorial intent to reader interpretation. In law, it questioned the neutrality of justice. In theology, it challenged the stability of doctrine. For Derrida, no text is innocent. Every meaning is provisional, every interpretation political.
There Is Nothing Outside the Text
Derrida’s infamous claim—il n’y a pas de hors-texte—is often misunderstood. He did not mean that physical reality does not exist. Rather, he meant that we only encounter reality through language, and language is never neutral. Every description is interpretation. Every fact is framed.
This idea led to the rise of postmodern hermeneutics, where truth is no longer discovered but constructed. There is no single authoritative meaning—only endless play between signifiers. In this world, claims to absolute truth become not only naïve, but oppressive.
The Impact of Derrida
Derrida’s influence is vast. In academia, he helped spawn entire disciplines centered on critical reading. In politics, his legacy supports identity movements that challenge dominant narratives. In culture, he helped usher in the post-truth era, where skepticism of all authority leads to relativism.
Deconstruction also made its way into popular discourse. From debates over constitutional interpretation to arguments about gender pronouns, Derrida’s fingerprints are everywhere. Language is no longer assumed to reflect reality—it is seen as a tool for shaping, even manipulating, perception.
Biblical Response: The Word That Stands
In contrast to Derrida’s unstable universe, Scripture begins with a bold claim: “In the beginning was the Word” (John 1:1). The Christian worldview affirms that language has meaning because it is grounded in a speaking God. Words are not arbitrary constructs but gifts of communication from a Creator who is Truth.
Yes, human interpretation is limited. Yes, we must read with humility. But deconstruction becomes self-defeating when it denies that any meaning can be trusted. If all language is manipulation, even that claim cannot be trusted.
The Bible offers a better story: God speaks, and His Word does not return void (Isaiah 55:11). Language may be fragile, but it is not futile. Meaning may be complex, but it is not unknowable.
Discernment in a Post-Derridean World
Derrida’s warnings are valuable. We should be suspicious of simplistic readings, especially when they uphold unjust systems. We should listen for silenced voices and recognize the power dynamics in language. But the answer is not endless suspicion—it is redemptive speech.
The Christian is called to speak truth in love—not to abandon meaning, but to steward it faithfully. In a culture tempted to deconstruct everything, the church must reconstruct a world in which words still matter.
We follow not a concept, but a person: the Word made flesh. And in Him, the meaning of all things holds together.