Kierkegaard: Philosophical Fragments

 In 1843, at the age of 30, Kierkegaard wrote Philosophical Fragments: or, A Fragment of Philosophy, under the name Johannes Climacus. He lists himself as responsible for publication. He describes it in his journal as a book about Jesus Christ without mentioning his name. 

On the title page, Climacus asks three questions. Is an historical point of departure possible for an eternal consciousness? In one sense, Christianity will say yes to this question. Yet, in another sense, the historical point of departure will do the individual no good until he or she appropriates it. How can such a point of departure have any other than a merely historical interest? Responding with faith rather than offense is what makes it more than merely an historical interest. Is it possible to base an eternal happiness upon historical knowledge? In one sense, Christianity will answer yes. In another sense, your personal response of faith and willingness to live your life according to this knowledge is what provides eternal happiness.

This first section is a brief “Preface,” which he signs “J. C.” He admits that he does not serve the Hegelian system. He wants to “execute a sort of nimble of dancing in the service of Thought,” as well as honor “the God.” He has had to resign domestic happiness, civic respectability, and glad fellowship. He is ready to risk his life in order “to play the game of thought with it in all earnest.” His partner in the dance is thought of death. 

Chapter I has the title, “A Project of Thought.” Climacus asks the question, “How far does the Truth admit of being learned? He takes a lesson from Socrates, who would begin with the notion of recollection. Therefore, he assumes that the individual already has the Truth within. Socrates was a midwife for thought in others. In fact, the highest relation between one person and another is bringing forth thought. For Socrates, each point of departure in time is accidental, an occasion, a vanishing moment. In Socratic thought, self-knowledge is knowledge of God. Each person becomes his or her own center. In one sense, every person becomes a teacher. The teacher who brings forth truth, in which I rest, is incidental. Socratic questioning assumes that I have the truth within myself and can acquire it myself. Now, if things are to be otherwise, the moment in time must have decisive significance. The previous state of the learner must be that of error, and therefore the learner is not even a seeker. The teacher gives the learner the knowledge that the learner is in error. The teacher must bring the truth to the learner and provide the condition necessary for understanding it. Yet, such a teacher is more than a human being. Rather, the teacher is “the God.” The destitute condition of the learner is one we might call sin. What shall we call such a teacher? We should call him Savior and Redeemer. He becomes an atonement that removes the wrath justly directed to the prior condition of the learner. This teacher is more of a judge than a teacher. Such a moment must, in fact, have a distinctive name that we call the fullness of time. As we shift our attention to the learner, we can see that he or she becomes a disciple, a new person. We might call the change conversion. Yet, what precedes conversion is repentance. We might call the transition a new birth. The disciple owes everything to the teacher. He concludes the chapter by imaging someone say that this is a ridiculous project of thought. 

Chapter II has the title, “The God as Teacher and Savior: An Essay of the Imagination.” Socrates wanted no praise, honor, or money, unlike modern philosophers. However, in terms of the God as teacher, what would motivate the God to come into finite existence? Love is the motivation. Love motivates the God to reveal who God is. The God loves the learner and desires to win the learner as a follower. Only in love does the unequal become equal. The love is unhappy due to the great distance between the God and the learner. They cannot understand each other. Climacus offers a story as an analogy. How can the God and the learner ever understand each other? Well, an erotic form of love might elevate the learner. The God might show who God is in a dramatic way, making the learner forget whom he or she was. Alternatively, an agape form of love would cause the God to come in the form familiar to the learner. If the moment is to have eternal significance for the learner, the learner will owe everything to the teacher. The union between the God and the learner will occur through a descent. The God must become a servant. Every other form of “revelation” would be a form of deception. Suffering will be the life of this servant. The cause of this suffering is love. Contrary to Feuerbach, humanity would not produce such a story. 

Chapter III has the title, “The Absolute Paradox: A Metaphysical Crochet.” A “crochet” can mean a trick or an odd notion. The Paradox is the source of the passion of the thinker. The supreme paradox is to discover something that thought cannot think. Reason collides with the paradox. That which it collides is the unknown, which we might also call “the God.” One cannot derive proof of the God from nature. When I let go of the need for such proof, I am ready for “the leap.” The Unknown is absolutely different from reason.

The next section is “Appendix: the Paradox and the Offended Consciousness.” If the paradox and reason meet and acknowledge their unlikeness, the meeting is a happy one. However, if reason cannot accept this, and still seeks understanding, we have an offended consciousness. The offense causes reason to stand apart from the paradox. 

I will have to say that Climacus has helped me on this point. In my Christian journey, I cannot say that the Christian message ever offended me. Yet, I have always wanted to know more and to practice more. I have close friends, however, who clearly experience offense. They ridicule the notion that God became a human being, putting it on the level of fairy stories. They distance themselves from everything related to the church and ridicule Christians. Climacus has helped me understand why my continual attempts to understand Incarnation and Trinity presuppose faith. My own efforts in understanding Christian teaching have not been so much for the outsider but for the Christian. I have no desire to come to an understanding of Christian teaching that removes offense. However, I do want Christians to have some confidence in the message.

 

Chapter IV has the title, “The Case of the Contemporary Disciple.” In the form of a servant, the God seeks to win disciples. The God seeks the love of disciples. Even the contemporary of the teacher faces the question of an historical departure for the truth. The learner does not need to understand the paradox but understand that this is the paradox. When reason and paradox have a happy meeting, we call it faith. In this sense, the historical makes no difference. Historical knowledge alone is not enough to bring a person to faith. Any knowledge about the teacher is accidental. Since the entire situation is non-Socratic, the learner owes everything to the teacher. Faith is not knowledge, for one cannot have knowledge of the absurd. Since the teacher has provided the condition for the learner, the object of faith is the teacher rather than a body of doctrine. The contemporary may see the teacher, but this does not make the contemporary a disciple. Really, only the believer, the non-immediate contemporary, knows the teacher. Every non-contemporary can become a contemporary disciple. 

The next section has the title, “Interlude.” The word suggests a resting place, which is ironic, for this section is the most difficult philosophically. It considers these questions. Is the past more necessary than the future? Or, When the possible becomes actual, is it thereby made more necessary than it was? I think the answer is “no.” I think the point of the section is that God acts freely, and then Climacus discusses the consequences of this. In what sense is there change in that which comes into existence? The answer is that the possible becomes actual. Coming into existence suggests suffering. All of this suggests that what comes into existence is not “necessary.” Everything that comes into existence is historical. The past has necessity, but the apprehension of the past has enough uncertainty that apprehending it makes one a prophet in retrospect. Faith shares a paradoxical quality with the paradox, for faith will always involves the risk of committing itself to error. To remove the risk would be like saying that you have learned to swim before getting into the water. The struggle of faith is resolution, and therefore will, rather than a logical conclusion one draws. 

Chapter V has the title “The Disciple at Second Hand.” Climacus now makes the point that the disciple at second hand is in the same situation as the disciple at first hand. The first generation of secondary disciples has an advantage over modern secondary disciples, but this is an illusion. In fact, recent generations might gain some comfort from the fact that so many people all over the world have faith. It may seem to naturalize the paradox. However, faith in every generation means reason colliding with the paradox. For that reason, the first generation of secondary disciples has the advantage of experiencing the full reality of paradox, while we have the temptation to remove it. What Climacus affirms is that he finds no such thing as a secondary disciple. The first disciples have the responsibility of reporting that they have believed and relate the content of the paradox for faith. The contemporary generation only needs to trust the credibility of the report that God has in fact become a human being. In fact, the historical contemporary with the paradox wants no special treatment. God brings the contemporary and all other generations together. Unfortunately, a generation could come that would look at Christian faith as triumphant. Yet, faith that celebrates its triumph would be ridiculous. It would never actually believe. Faith is always militant, in the battle, and therefore, the possibility for defeat is always present. Faith is always moving out into battle to confront the enemy. Faith is never returning home in victory. Climacus says he may have another section, which became Concluding Unscientific Postscript. He finally answers the questions of the title page. Christianity proposes that an historical point of departure exists, not for its own sake, but for the single individual, significant for his or her eternal consciousness. Christianity intends for this historical point of departure to become more than just an historical interest. In fact, Christianity proposes that the eternal happiness of the individual rests upon a relationship with this historical point of departure. Human beings could not make this up. 

Climacus even has a moral of the story. He thinks he has made an advance on Socrates by proposing a new organ in faith; a new presupposition in the consciousness of sin, a new decision in the Moment, and a new teacher, the God in time.