Kirgegaard and Existential Philosophy

This is where the Absurd originates. From the Absurd, forged by the horrors of existence, Kirgegard learned about sin and learned to see sin where the Scriptures point to it. The opposite concept to sin is not virtue, but freedom. Freedom from all fears, freedom from coercion. The opposite concept of sin – and this is revealed to him by the Absurd – is faith. And this is what is most difficult for us to perceive in Kiergegaard's existential philosophy, what he himself was most difficult to perceive. That is why he said that faith is man's insane struggle for the possible. Existential philosophy is a struggle between faith and reason about the possible, or rather about the impossible. Kiergegard does not say after speculative philosophy: credo, ut intelligam ("I believe in order to understand"). It discards as unnecessary, as deadening our intelligere. He remembers the prophet: justus ex fide vivit (the righteous live by faith). He remembers the Apostle: everything that is not of faith is sin. Only faith, which does not take into account anything, does not "know" anything and does not want to know – only faith can be the source of the truths created by God. Vera does not ask, does not question, does not look back. Faith only appeals to the One by whose will everything that is is. And if speculative philosophy proceeds from the given and self-evidence and accepts them as necessary and inevitable, then existential philosophy overcomes all necessities through faith. "By faith Abraham obeyed the call to go into the land which he had to inherit, and he went, not knowing whither he was going." To come to the promised land, you don't need knowledge, for a knowledgeable person the promised land does not exist. The promised land is where the believer has come, it has become promised because the believer has come there: certum quia impossibile ("certainly, because impossible").

Faith is not "trust" in invisible truths clothed with reason, nor is it trust in the rules of life proclaimed by teachers or holy books. Such faith is only a less perfect knowledge, and testifies to the same downfall of man as Spinoza's tertium genus cognitionis (third kind of knowledge) or Leibniz's uncreated truths. If God means that nothing is impossible, then faith means that the end of necessity has come and all the stone "you must" generated by necessity. There are no truths, the dawn of freedom is dawning: listen, O Israel! The Lord our God is the only Lord. And there is no sin: God took it upon Himself and destroyed it and all the evil that entered the world with sin. Speculative philosophy "explains" evil, but the explained evil is not only preserved, not only remains evil, it is justified in its necessity, accepted and transformed into an eternal principle. Existential philosophy goes beyond "explanations," existential philosophy sees "explanations" as its worst enemy. Evil cannot be explained, evil cannot be "accepted" and negotiated with, just as it is impossible to accept sin and come to terms with sin: evil can and must only be destroyed.

Kierlegard's books, like his diaries, all his direct and indirect statements, are a continuous narrative about the desperate, insane, convulsive struggle of man with original sin and with the horrors of life that came from sin. Rational thinking and the morality that guards it, with which people live and are satisfied, led Kiergegard to the most terrible thing that can be: impotence. He was destined to experience impotence in the most disgusting and shameful form in which it can manifest itself on earth: when he touched the woman he loved, she turned into a shadow, into a ghost. Worse still, everything he touched turned into a ghost: the fruit of the tree of life became inaccessible to him, all people were in the grip of death, everyone was in the grip of despair, which had taken possession of his soul in his youth. But this same despair lifted him above the plane of ordinary thinking, and then it was revealed to him that his very impotence was also illusory. Even more: the illusory nature of human impotence was sometimes revealed to him even more directly, even more tangibly than the illusory nature of existence. There was powerlessness and there was no powerlessness: powerlessness was revealed as fear of the non-existent, of the uncreated, of Nothing. Nothing. who does not exist, followed sin into life and subdued man. Speculative philosophy, itself engendered and crushed by original sin, cannot drive Nothing away from us. On the contrary: it invokes him, it binds him with indissoluble ties with all existence. And as long as knowledge, as long as intelligent sight will be a source of truth for us. Nothing will remain the master of life.

Kiergegard experienced all this with a degree of immediacy and anguish with which few people on earth had ever experienced anything: for this reason few people were able to tell so authentically about sin as about the impotence of the will as he did. That is why it is also rare that anyone has been able and willing to glorify the Absurdity that paves the way for faith so unrestrainedly, so vehemently, with such rapture. He could not make a "movement of faith" – his will was paralyzed, "fainting". But he hated and cursed his powerlessness with all the passion of which man is capable. Is this not already the first "movement" of faith? Is this not faith itself? A genuine, true faith? He rejected the eternal truths of reason, he shattered the unshakable foundations of morality. If reason is the highest, if morality is the highest, Abraham is lost, Job is dead, all people are lost: the "immutability" that permeates uncreated truths is like a giant boa constrictor strangles all living things, even God Himself, in its terrible embrace.

Ex auditu,[178] the good news reached Kirgegard from the Scriptures, that with God all things are possible, that with God there is nothing impossible. And so, when all opportunities for him were over, or rather, because all opportunities for him were over, he rushed to the call that reached him. Historical Christianity, living in peace and good harmony with our reason and our morality, became for him that monster, qua occisa homo non potest vivere. Historical Christianity, applied to the average conditions of human existence, has forgotten God, has renounced God: it is content with "possibilities," convinced that God must also be content with what is possible: Christians, as Kirgegard put it, have abolished Christ.

During his lifetime, they did not want to listen to Kirgegard. After his death, his books were read more and more, and he gained worldwide fame. But is it given to existential philosophy to triumph over speculative philosophy? Is it given to Kirgegaard to become a "teacher of humanity"? Still. Perhaps it is not necessary for him to become a "teacher", or rather, what is not necessary. The voice of Kirgegard was, and must be supposed to be, forever the voice of one crying in the wilderness. Existential philosophy, directed towards God, for whom all things are possible, reveals that God does not compel anything, that His truth does not attack anyone and is itself unprotected, that God Himself is free and created man as free as He is. But the concupiscentia invincibilis of fallen man, the man who has eaten of the fruit of the tree of knowledge, fears divine freedom above all else, and greedily strives for universal and necessary truths. Can a "reasonable" person admit that God, having heard the cry not of his beloved Son, and not even of Abraham or Job, but of the candidate of theology Søren Kirgegaard, shattered the stony Immutability imposed on him by our thinking, and raised a ridiculous, pathetic and ridiculous incident from his life to the level of a world-historical event? That He freed him from the spell of the tree of knowledge, and restored to him, who had grown old in his mother's womb, that youth of soul and that spontaneity which give access to the tree of life? That Kierlegard's infinitely passionate striving for the finite, despite the fact that it contains an internal contradiction and is therefore both impossible and meaningless to human judgment, turned out to be attributed to that "one thing needful" to which it is given to triumph over all "impossible" and "you must"? [179] There can be no two answers to this question. That is why Kirgegard does not turn to reason and morality, which demand submission, but to Absurdity and Faith, which bless daring. His frenzied, frenzied, unrestrained, full of anguish writings and speeches tell us only about this: the voice of one crying in the wilderness for the horrors of Nothing, who enslaved fallen man! A mad struggle for possibility, it is also a mad rush from the God of the philosophers to the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, the God of Jacob.

Instead of an afterword

Kirgegaard – Religious Philosopher[180] 

Until recently, Søren Kierkegaard was completely unknown in France: even in literary and philosophical circles, nothing was known about him. Now interest in him has grown greatly in France: many of his books have already been translated into French, many articles about him have appeared in philosophical and general literary journals, and his ideas are increasingly attracting the attention of French educated people. Still, there are still many people in France who have scarcely heard his name. Meanwhile, in other countries, Kierkegaard's influence on philosophical and theological thought is enormous. Especially in Germany, where Kierkegaard was "discovered" at the end of the last century. The famous theologian Karl Barth came from Kierkegaard. To a large extent, the same can be said of the more outstanding modern philosophers of Germany, Jaspers and Heidegger: mediocre or direct, their thought is kept in the orbit of Kierkegaard's ideas. Literature about Kierkegaard in Germany has grown immensely: he is studied as the classics are studied. But I will say now: Kierkegaard is one of the most complex and difficult thinkers. It is difficult mainly because of the unusual and completely unusual manner in which philosophical questions are posed by our thinking.

He called his philosophy existential, which means that he thought in order to live, and did not live in order to think. And this is what distinguishes him from professional philosophers, for whom their philosophy is simply a "specialty," the same as any other profession – philology, astronomy, mathematics – a specialty that has nothing to do with and no connection with their lives. This, however, does not mean that the life of Kierkegaard is rich in external, visible and interesting events for everyone. On the contrary, he had nothing to do with the events that marked the era in which he lived. In his books, as well as in his numerous diaries, you will not find even a mention of the revolution of 1948, although he was already 35 years old at that time and it coincided with the height of his literary activity. Kierkegaard lived outside of history, or, if you like, and this is of great importance for Kierkegaard's understanding, he had his own history, indifferent to everyone, but which gave him absolutely extraordinary material for thinking.

I

Søren Kierkegaard was born on 5 May 1813 in Copenhagen, from his father's second marriage, Michael Kierkegaard, to his former servant Anna Lund. Now I note that this marriage was somewhat hasty: Michael Kierkegaard had to cover his sin, as they say. This circumstance played a great role in the history of the spiritual development of the son, who learned in his early youth that his strict and pious father succumbed to temptation soon after the death of his first wife. But even more important for Kierkegaard was another fact from his father's life. When Kierkegaard was only eleven years old, he was given by his parents, very poor peasants, to work for shepherds, also very poor people, who themselves lived in very difficult conditions and exploited the child at their complete disposal in every possible way. And so, one stormy, cold, rainy autumn day, when he had to graze sheep in one of the harsh and unsheltered valleys of Jutland from early morning, half-dressed, exhausted by back-breaking work, the unfortunate boy fell into despair and, running up the hill, cursed God. Old Kierkegaard could not forget this until his death (he died at the age of 82): he saw in it a crime against St. John. He was endlessly tormented by this, considering himself condemned to eternal perdition. And not only himself - all his offspring. He was unable or unwilling to hide this from his children, and young Seren already knew that he was burdened with a grave hereditary sin. Thus, two events that occurred long before the birth of Søren Kierkegaard turned out to be decisive in his life. It must be thought that here lies the key to the exceptional in its determination and concentration tension with which existential philosophy treats the biblical theme of original sin and the fall of man, which has been abandoned by all.

Kierkegaard's upbringing was, of course, entirely in the hands of his father at first, and was strictly religious in nature. Nevertheless, he was sent to school, which he graduated in 1830, and then entered the university to study theology. While his father lived, Seren's studies at the university, to the great chagrin of the old man, went badly: his son was distracted from theology by other interests - he spent a lot of time in society, visited the theater, etc. - led, as they say, an absent-minded life, and it seemed to all those close to him that he would never achieve a university diploma. When his father died in 1838 at the age of 82, no one doubted that Søren would not pass the exams. But, contrary to popular belief, he passed the exam with honors as early as 1840 and, in addition, shortly before the exams, received a diploma of magister artium. But although he had all the necessary academic degrees—and, by the way, a Ph.D. in theology (equivalent to a German doctor of theology)—he never held the office of pastor, nor any of the other positions to which his diploma entitled—he remained a "private" person, or, as he himself put it, a "private thinker," until his death. In the year of graduation, he became engaged to a young girl, Regina Olsen, who was only 17 years old and whom he had known since childhood. But a year later, on October 10, 1841, he, without any reason, broke up with his fiancée – to the great indignation of both his relatives and those close to his fiancée and all of Copenhagen. Copenhagen a hundred years ago was a big village: all the inhabitants knew the affairs of all the inhabitants, and Kierkegaard's unfounded break with his bride made it the talk of the town. Regina Olsen was shocked beyond hear; she did not understand, and could not understand, what had caused Kierkegaard's unexpected action. But Kierkegaard was even more shocked and crushed by his act. His break with his fiancée – for all of us a secondary, insignificant fact – acquired for him the dimensions of a great historical event. And it would not be an exaggeration to say that the character of his philosophy was determined precisely by the fact that by the will of fate he had to experience such an insignificant fact as a historical event—as an "earthquake," to use his own words. What made him break up with Regina Olsen? Both in his diaries and in his books, he constantly speaks in his own name and in the name of fictitious persons about a man who had to break off from his beloved, but he constantly strictly forbids his future readers to inquire into the real reason that forced him to do what was most difficult and painful for him (as well as for his bride). Moreover, he says more than once that in his writings he did everything to confuse the curious. And yet, it must be said that at the same time he did everything so that his secret did not go with him to the grave. In his books and diaries, he repeats, "If I had faith, I would never have left Regina Olsen." The words are mysterious: what can faith, as we are all accustomed to understand this word, have to do with whether to marry or not to marry? Meanwhile, the great truth and the great insight of Kierkegaard are telling. We will speak of this in more detail when his religious philosophy is expounded. For now, I will say that Kierkegaard's literary activity began – except for his Ph.D. thesis (it is called "What is Irony?") – from his separation from his fiancée, i.e. from 1841, when he was 27 years old. Books, large and small, articles, edifying speeches, diaries follow one another with amazing speed – in the 15 years that he had left to live (he died on November 11, 1855), what he wrote amounted to 28 volumes – 14 works, 14 diaries. His first book is called All or Nothing, and the title alone testifies to the direction that Kierkegaard's thought took. Equally characteristic is the title of his second book: "Fear and Trembling" and the attached semi-fictional, half-philosophic work - "Repetition". The first deals with the sacrifice of Abraham, the second with the book of Job. 9 years after the appearance of "Fear and Trembling", he himself wrote in his diary: "Horror must seize a person before the gloomy pathos that penetrates this book." What he says about Fear and Trembling can be said about all his writings, about everything he wrote. And in the book "What is Fear", and in "Illness to Death", and in "Exercises in Christianity", and in his speeches "A Tread in the Flesh", "What is the Difference Between an Apostle and a Prophet", "Is It Right for the Sake of Truth to Give Himself to Pieces", as well as in those books that do not give out their content by their title, such as "Stages of the Path of Life", "Philosophical crumbs", etc. – in everything he wrote, one can feel that unheard-of gloomy and heavy pathos that Kierkegaard himself noted in "Fear and Trembling". The same must be said of his diaries. And the older he becomes, the more formidable and terrible his pathos becomes. Accordingly, in his writings, the challenge of modernity grows more and more. He fought on two fronts at once: on the one hand, with speculative philosophy, with its representative, Hegel, who in his time was the ruler of thought in Europe, on the other hand, with the church and the clergy, with the entire "Christian world," which, as he wrote, "killed Christ." Especially harsh and unrestrained were his last speeches in a small magazine filled by himself and called "Moment". He openly declared that the clergy and all those who belong to the church betray Christ, and that whoever wants to be a Christian must leave the church. His article about Bishop Münster, who headed the Danish Church for many years in a row, dates back to the same time. Münster was Father Kierkegaard's confessor, and he alone knew how to bring some peace into the soul of the old man, tormented by the inexhaustible memories of his grave sins. Münster was, in fact, the tutor of Søren himself, whom he had known since early childhood and who never missed a single of his Sunday sermons. All Denmark considered him their spiritual leader and revered him. As long as Münster lived, Kierkegaard did not hurt him. But when Münster died on January 30, 1854, and his son-in-law, Professor Martensen, a well-known scientist and philosopher (Hegelian), called him "a witness to the truth" in his funeral oration, Kierkegaard burst out and wrote and published an article entitled "Was Bishop Münster a Witness to the Truth?", in which he insisted with sharpness, even for himself, that Martensen had no right to say what that he said that Münster was not a witness to the truth. This article, as well as his articles on the church, aroused, of course, general indignation and indignation.

But Kierkegaard himself did not have long to live. – On October 2, 1855, he collapsed – from exhaustion – in the street, he was transferred to the hospital, where he died two months later. During his lifetime, Kierkegaard was famous in Denmark, but he was not known at all abroad. However, even in Denmark he had to print his works at his own expense, and although the costs of printing were paid off by the sale of books, his books did not give him income. He could exist only thanks to the small fortune left to him by his father. But since he did not want to keep his money in interest-bearing securities, believing that, according to the Bible, it is a sin to charge interest, by the time of his death almost all his funds had been exhausted: only a small amount remained, which was barely enough for a modest funeral.