Selections from the Writings of Kierkegaard
greater, the greatest, extraordinarily and astonishingly the
greatest man who ever lived. If one begins, on the other hand,
with the assumption (of faith) that he was God, one has by so
doing stricken out and car celled the 1800 years as not making
the slightest difference, one way or the other, because the
certainty of faith is on an infinitely higher plane. And one
course or the other one must take; but we shall arrive at sensible
conclusions only if we take the latter.
If one takes the former course one will find it impossible--unless
by committing the logical error of passing over into a different
category--one will find it impossible in the conclusion suddenly
to arrive at the new category "God"; that is, one cannot make
the consequence, or consequences, of--a man's life suddenly
prove at a certain point in the argument that this man was God.
If such a procedure were correct one ought to be able to answer
satisfactorily a question like this: what must the consequence
be, how great the effects, how many centuries must elapse, in
order to infer from the consequences of a man's life--for such
was the assumption--that he was God; or whether it is really
the case that in the year 300 Christ had not yet been entirely
proved to be God, though certainly the most extraordinarily,
astonishingly, greatest man who had ever lived, but that a few
more centuries would be necessary to prove that he was God. In
that case we would be obliged to infer that people in the fourth
century did not look upon Christ as God, and still less they
who lived in the first century; whereas the certainty that he
was God would grow with every century. Also, that in our century
this certainty would be greater than it had ever been, a certainty
in comparison with which the first centuries hardly so much as
glimpsed his divinity. You may answer this question or not, it
does not matter.
In general, is it at all possible by the consideration of the
gradually unfolding consequences of something to arrive at a
conclusion different in quality from what we started with? Is
it not sheer insanity (providing man is sane) to let one's judgment
become so altogether confused as to land in the wrong category?
And if one begins with such a mistake, then how will one be able,
at any subsequent point, to infer from the consequences of something,
that one has to deal with an altogether different, in fact,
infinitely different, category? A foot-print certainly is the
consequence of some creature having made it. Now I may mistake
the track for that of, let us say, a bird; whereas by nearer
inspection, and by following it for some distance, I may make
sure that it was made by some other animal. Very good; but there
was no infinite difference in quality between my first assumption
and my later conclusion. But can I, on further consideration
and following the track still further, arrive at the conclusion:
therefore it was a spirit--a spirit that leaves no tracks? Precisely
the same holds true of the argument that from the consequences
of a human life--for that was the assumption--we may infer that
therefore it was God.
Is God then so like man, is there so little difference between
the two that, while in possession of my right senses, I may
begin with the assumption that Christ was human? And, for that
matter, has not Christ himself affirmed that he was God? On the
other hand, if God and man resemble each other so closely, and
are related to each other to such a degree--that is, essentially
belong to the same category of beings, then the conclusion "therefore
he was God" is nevertheless just humbug, because if that is all
there is to being God, then God does not exist at all. But if
God does exist and, therefore, belongs to a category infinitely
different from man, why, then neither I nor any one else can
start with the assumption that Christ was human and end with
the conclusion that therefore he was God. Any one with a bit
of logical sense will easily recognize that the whole question
about the consequences of Christ's life on earth is incommensurable
with the decision that he is God. In fact, this decision is to
be made on an altogether different plane: man must decide for
himself whether he will believe Christ to be what he himself
affirmed he was, that is, God, or whether he will not believe so.
What has been said--mind you, providing one will take the time
to understand it--is sufficient to make a logical mind stop
drawing any inferences from the consequences of Christ's life:
that therefore he was God. But faith in its own right protests
against every attempt to approach Jesus Christ by the help of
historical information about the consequences of his life. Faith
contends that this whole attempt is--blasphemous. Faith contends
that the only proof left unimpaired by unbelief when it did
away with all the other proofs of the truth of Christianity,
the proof which--indeed, this is complicated business--I say,
which unbelief invented in order to prove the truth of Christianity--the
proof about which so excessively much ado has been made in Christendom,
the proof of 1800 years: as to this, faith contends that it
is--blasphemy.
With regard to a man it is true that the consequences of his
life are more important than his life. If one, then, in order to
find out who Christ was, and in order to find out by some inference,
considers the consequences of his life: why, then one changes
him into a man by this very act--a man who, like other men, is
to pass his examination in history, and history is in this case
as mediocre an examiner as any half-baked teacher in Latin.
But strange! By the help of history, that is, by considering
the consequences of his life, one wishes to arrive at the conclusion
that therefore, therefore he was God; and faith makes the exactly
opposite contention that he who even begins with this syllogism
is guilty of blasphemy. Nor does the blasphemy consist in assuming
hypothetically that Christ was a man. No, the blasphemy consists
in the thought which lies at the bottom of the whole business,
the thought without which one would never start it, and of whose
validity one is fully and firmly assured that it will hold also
with regard to Christ--the thought that the consequences of his
life are more important than his life; in other words, that he
is a man. The hypothesis is: let us assume that Christ was a
man; but at the bottom of this hypothesis, which is not blasphemy
as yet, there lies the assumption that, the consequences of a
man's life being more important than his life, this will hold
true also of Christ. Unless this is assumed one must admit that
one's whole argument is absurd, must admit it before beginning--so
why begin at all? But once it is assumed, and the argument is
started, we have the blasphemy. And the more one becomes absorbed
in the consequences of Christ's life, with the aim of being able
to make sure whether or no he was God, the more blasphemous is
one's conduct; and it remains blasphemous so long as this consideration
is persisted in.
Curious coincidence: one tries to make it appear that, providing
one but thoroughly considers the consequences of Christ's life,
this "therefore" will surely be arrived at--and faith condemns
the very beginning of this attempt as blasphemy, and hence the
continuance in it as a worse blasphemy.
"History," says faith, "has nothing to do with Christ." With
regard to him we have only Sacred History (which is different
in kind from general history), Sacred History which tells of
his life and career when in debasement, and tells also that he
affirmed himself to be God. He is the paradox which history never
will be able to digest or convert into a general syllogism. He
is in his debasement the same as he is in his exaltation--but
the 1800 years, or let it be 18,000 years, have nothing whatsoever
to do with this. The brilliant consequences in the history of
the world which are sufficient, almost, to convince even a professor
of history that he was God, these brilliant consequences surely
do not represent his return in glory! Forsooth, in that case it
were imagined rather meanly! The same thing over again: Christ
is thought to be a man whose return in glory can be, and can become,
nothing else than the consequences of his life in history--whereas
Christ's return in glory is something absolutely different and a
matter of faith. He abased himself and was swathed in rags--he
will return in glory; but the brilliant consequences in history,
especially when examined a little more closely, are too shabby
a glory--at any rate a glory of an altogether incongruous nature,
of which faith therefore never speaks, when speaking about his
glory. History is a very respectable science indeed, only it must
not become so conceited as to take upon itself what the Father
will do, and clothe Christ in his glory, dressing him up with
the brilliant garments of the consequences of his life, as if
that constituted his return. That he was God in his debasement
and that he will return in glory, all this is far beyond the
comprehension of history; nor can all this be got from history,
excepting by an incomparable lack of logic, and however incomparable
one's view of history may be otherwise.
How strange, then, that one ever wished to use history
in order to prove Christ divine.
_D_ Are the consequences of Christ's life more important than
his life?
No, by no means, but rather the opposite; for else Christ were
but a man.
There is really nothing remarkable in a man having lived. There
have certainly lived millions upon millions of men. If the fact
is remarkable, there must have been something remarkable in a
man's life. In other words, there is nothing remarkable in his
having lived, but his life was remarkable for this or that. The
remarkable thing may, among other matters, also be what he accomplished;
that is, the consequences of his life.
But that God lived here on earth in human form, that is infinitely
remarkable. No matter if his life had had no consequences at all--it
remains equally remarkable, infinitely remarkable, infinitely more
remarkable than all possible consequences. Just try to introduce
that which is remarkable as something secondary and you will
straightway see the absurdity of doing so: now, if you please,
whatever remarkable is there in God's life having had remarkable
consequences? To speak in this fashion is merely twaddling.
No, that God lived here on earth, that is what is infinitely
remarkable, that which is remarkable in itself. Assuming that
Christ's life had had no consequences whatsoever--if any one
then undertook to say that therefore his life was not remarkable
it would be blasphemy. For it would be remarkable all the same;
and if a secondary remarkable characteristic had to be introduced
it would consist in the remarkable fact that his life had no
consequences. But if one should say that Christ's life was remarkable
because of its consequences, then this again were a blasphemy; for
it is his life which in itself is the remarkable thing.
There is nothing very remarkable in a man's having lived, but it
is infinitely remarkable that God has lived. God alone can lay
so much emphasis on himself that the fact of his having lived
becomes infinitely more important than all the consequences
which may flow therefrom and which then become a matter of history.
_E_ A comparison between Christ and a man who in his life endured
the same treatment by his times as Christ endured.
Let us imagine a man, one of the exalted spirits, one who was
wronged by his times, but whom history later reinstated in his
rights by proving by the consequences of his life who he was. I
do not deny, by the way, that all this business of proving from