Beyond Kierkegaard

This discussion will get back to Kierkegaard, but existentialism is a little hard to sum up quickly, so I'd like to elaborate a little. There are little catchphrases that help explain certain aspects of it, such as "reality viewed from the perspective of the actor,' 'existence precedes essence,' and the like. But it might help to look at the history of existentialism since Kierkegaard. This little sketch is, of course, incredibly brief. But it should help.

There were two main groups that followed Kierkegaard: theistic existentialists and atheistic existentialists. The existence of the atheistic existentialists, sometimes called the 'Black existentialists' is one small part of why I disagree with Kierkegaard. C.S. Lewis said somewhere that people who champion certain ideas or philosophies should follow those ideas down the road to the 'ruddy end' (paraphrased). Ideas do have consequences (I don't know what Lewis thought about Kierkegaard specifically, but that would be interesting to find out). And these ideas often have more than a grain of truth in them. But the consequences of some ideas are difficult to anticipate. Unfortunately, an idea may seem appropriate at the time, under certain conditions, but then other people start to live them out. The 'ruddy end' of the existential road is the atheistic existentialist. It actually doesn't stop there, because there are trails that lead from existentialism to postmodernism, etc.

Two of the most well known existentialists in this camp are the French philosophers Camus and Sartre. They wrote novels such as The Stranger and Nausea, respectively. The gist of these books is that humans are alienated from the universe we live in because it is a meaningless place. So people have to create their own meaning, and it really doesn't matter what meaning you decide to create. Physical pleasures can be indulged in wantonly. If that doesn't do it for you try whatever you want. But at the end of the day all that is left is a sickness, or nausea, that is the meaningless human condition. The only question that is left is, when to commit suicide.

Sartre is an interesting case because he was very active in the French resistance during WWII. There is a story that someone once asked him why he was so vehemently against the Nazis. If his philosophy was true and things were meaningless it shouldn't matter whether the Nazis were in charge or not. Why not be one of the Vichy French who cooperated with the Nazis. His response was that sometimes you just need to take a 'leap of faith.'

The link between this brand of existentialism and Kierkegaard is clear. Please pardon the quick reference from the Wikipedia page on existentialism, but this is what it says (compare this to Jeremiah 29, for example, "'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the Lord..."):

"The early 19th century philosopher Søren Kierkegaard, posthumously regarded as the father of existentialism,^[5][6] maintained that the individual solely has the responsibilities of giving one's own life meaning and living that life passionately and sincerely,^[7][8] in spite of many existential obstacles and distractions including despair, angst, absurdity, alienation, and boredom.^[9]

The following comment was left on my previous post. I'm posting it this way since those who read the posts are getting them by email mostly and haven't seen the comments.

"You've got it wrong, Kierkegaard didn't mean the leap of faith as you described it. It's not that faith is to believe things that are not true. Kierkegard does NOT say you should have faith that 1+1=3.

A leap of faith is a sign of authenticity; in other words, our actions are an honest manifestation of our beliefs, rational thinking, personality, etc. Faith is the highest passion, passion to believe in ourselves, not in irrational things.

We've got to kill the mis-interpretation of Kierkegaard once and for all."

November 16, 2009 6:13 PM

The comment was left anonymously, but I welcome it. The more discussion the better. There is something in this comment that I definitely agree with. Our actions are manifestations of our beliefs, etc. In fact, that fits precisely with what I think is a good definition of faith: the ability to behave according to what we say we believe. Or, to believe something at a level that we can act on it.

But that is also why I disagree with Kierkegaard. In Fear and Trembling he is quite emphatic, many times over, that faith is a belief in the absurd. Abraham is, of course, his object of study there. He assiduously proclaims that what Abraham did, and the faith he had, was absurd. He might as well have said Abraham believed that 1 + 1 = 3. But he disregards what else we know about Abraham. Paul said in Romans 4:20 - 21 (ESV), "No distrust made him waver concerning the promise of God, but he grew strong in his faith as he gave glory to God, fully convinced that God was able to do what he had promised." Abraham had come a long way in his relationship with God. He followed God's direction to Canaan, had personally received the covenants (Gen 12, 15, 17). He entertained and challenged angels and the Lord Himself (Sodom and Gomorrah). Yet we see him fail on occasion. He disowned his wife twice out of fear, once in Egypt and once with Abimelech king of Gerar (he was a slow learner at times). Hagar bore Ishmael because of Abrahams lack of faith. But by the time God called him to sacrifice Isaac Abraham had learned a lot. The knowledge that God would keep his promises and could bring Isaac back from the dead was no longer an absurd idea. It may seem absurd to you and me, and Kierkegaard, but we haven't had the same relationship with God that Abraham did.

That's my main point. What Abraham did wasn't absurd from the perspective of someone who could see things more and more from God's perspective, and less and less from our everyday experience. It is more accurate to say that it was more absurd for Abraham to follow God's first direction and leave the land of his fathers than it was to follow God's direction in regard to Isaac, from Abraham's perspective at that point in his life.

This can be demonstrated also in the life of Karl Barth, who is a descendant of Kierkegaard's in terms of his ideas. Friends of mine have commented that they think Barth was the greatest Protestant theologian in the 20th century. I have to disagree. There is of course much to admire in Barth, and I'm not claiming to be an expert on him. But he made the comment, both in regard to The Fall and the Incarnation/Resurrection, that it is not true as a matter of history, but it is true as a matter of faith/doctrine. Now, that is as clear as you can get. Actually believing in an historical resurrection is as absurd as 1 + 1 = 3, to Barth. But he's going to believe anyway. Not that it really happened, but in his faith.

In my view it is important to believe that the resurrection happened as a matter of fact. See 1 Cor 15. But that's not the point here. The point is that to Kierkegaard, to make that 'leap of faith' is indeed to believe in something absurd. That is not what our faith is supposed to be.

It seems that Kierkegaard wasn't the first to talk about a 'leap of faith'. Pascal, at least, had used the phrase before him. But Pascal was clear that it is a 'leap in the light, not a leap in the dark.' In that sense I have no problem with leaps. But I've seen nothing that changes my view that Kierkegaard saw the leap of faith as an irrational belief in the absurd.

Finally, the commentator said that faith is the passion to believe in ourselves. Kierkegaard very well may have thought that. It is a very existentialist thing to say. But that is my problem with existentialism. Faith isn't a belief that we just conjure up, and it isn't a belief in ourselves. Properly understood, in my view, it is the object of our faith that is important, and our ability to behave according to what we say we believe.

Kierkegaard

It's been over a month since I posted anything. Just to refresh memories, we were talking about the 'fathers' of existentialism. Dostoevsky is called the 'father' by some, and we finished talking about him. I personally like Dostoevsky, but I don't think he was an existentialist. He did deal with some existential themes, but his conclusions were not those of the existentialists.

Now Kierkegaard. What to do with Kierkegaard? Did he start something new, or was he just a victim of the times? Maybe he's just a poor, misunderstood man. Well, I don't want to say that everything he thought was wrong, but he can be credited with creating a lot of misunderstanding about religion and faith. At least that's my view.

For now I'm just going to briefly introduce a little of Kiekegaard's biography, then come back later for discussion. Soren Kierkegaard was born into a wealthy Danish family with a strong Lutheran background. As Soren grew up he developed a disdain for the church because it was so mechanical and rigid. It wasn't that it was legalistic, although that may have been part of it, so much as it was just very formulaic. People just went to church because that is what was expected. They followed the liturgy and the church calendar and did what was expected of them. But they were just going through the motions. The church was lifeless and dead.

Kierkegaard was correct in recognizing that this was a problem, and perhaps even correct in understanding why. The modern world, with its focus on science and reason, was marginalizing religion and faith. In short, the church was becoming liberal. The Lutheran Church was ingrained in the culture, so it wasn't going anywhere, at least not going away quickly. But it was becoming meaningless, and it wasn't having an effect on anyone's life.

The problem was that the modern world was adopting new ideas that weren't compatible with the Bible. The Christian story was just a myth. Dead men don't ever rise from the dead in the real world, and no one can predict the future. So the Bible was just a man made story. A man made story can't have a supernatural effect on someone's heart.

If Kierkegaard was right about the diagnosis, he was very wrong about the solution. His solution was to take an existential 'leap of faith.' That term wasn't new with Kierkegaard, but he gave it new meaning, and he further refined that distinction between the world of reason and the world of faith that started back with Aquinas. So Kierkegaard agreed with modernism, on the one hand, that dead men don't rise from the dead and no one can predict the future. But on the other hand, faith can bring the Christian story to life, and we can live as though it were true. That is the 'leap of faith.'

Phillip Johnson, in his book Defeating Darwinism by Opening Minds, gives an example of what it is like to live as though things of faith are true in one area of life, but things of reason in another area. (I've adapted this a little.) It is as though a young girl was distressed when her friends told her that Santa Claus isn't real. So she did an experiment. She stayed up late and snuck out to see her parents filling the stockings, and realized her friends were right. Year after year the same thing happened. But for the rest of her life she continued to insist that Santa Claus is real. On the one hand her reason told her there was no Santa Claus, but she took that 'leap of faith' and continued to believe with all of her might. So for her it was true.

That's what making deals with modernism does to your faith. The reality is that our reason and our faith, when used properly, complement one another. We can't maintain such blatant contradictions and keep a vibrant spiritual life at the same time. It is incoherent. All healthy little girls eventually give up on Santa Claus. And if you believe the modern world has discounted the basis for the Christian faith, just a 'leap of faith' is a very poor foundation from which to spread the gospel. Kierkegaard may have invigorated the church to a point, and for a while, but in the end the 'leap of faith,' at least as he understood it, was a losing proposition.