Volume 5, Tome II: Kierkegaard and the Renaissance and Modern Traditions - Theology (Kierkegaard Research: Sources, Reception and Resources) [1 ed.] 9780754668190, 0754668193

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KIERKEGAARD AND THE RENAISSANCE AND MODERN TRADITIONS TOME II: THEOLOGY

Kierkegaard Research: Sources, Reception and Resources Volume 5, Tome II

Kierkegaard Research: Sources, Reception and Resources is a publication of the Søren Kierkegaard Research Centre

General Editor JON STEwART Søren Kierkegaard Research Centre, University of Copenhagen, Denmark Editorial Board KATALIN NuN pETER ŠAJDA Advisory Board ISTvÁN CzAKÓ FINN GREDAL JENSEN DAvID D. pOSSEN HEIKO SCHuLz

This volume was published with the generous financial support of the Danish Agency for Science, Technology and Innovation

Kierkegaard and the Renaissance and Modern Traditions Tome II: Theology

Edited by JON STEwART

First published 2009 by Ashgate Publishing Published 2016 by Routledge 2 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon OX14 4RN 711 Third Avenue, New York, NY 10017, USA Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business Copyright © Jon Stewart and the contributors 2009 Jon Stewart has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the editor of this work.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers. Notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or registered trademarks, and are used only for identification and explanation without intent to infringe. British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data Kierkegaard and the Renaissance and modern traditions vol. 5 Tome 2: Theology. – (Kierkegaard research : sources, reception and resources) 1. Kierkegaard, Soren, 1813–1855 2. philosophy, Renaissance 3. philosophy, Modern I. Stewart, Jon (Jon Bartley) 198.9 Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Kierkegaard and the Renaissance and modern traditions / [edited by] Jon Stewart. p. cm. — (Kierkegaard research: sources, reception and resources ; v. 5) Includes bibliographical references and indexes. ISBN 978-0-7546-6819-0 (hardcover : v. 1 : alk. paper) 1. Kierkegaard, Soren, 1813–1855—Sources. I. Stewart, Jon (Jon Bartley) B4377.K45527 2008 198’.9—dc22

ISBN 13: 978-0-7546-6819-0 (hbk) Cover design by Katalin Nun.

2008050992

Contents List of Contributors List of Abbreviations Abraham a Sancta Clara: An Aphoristic Encyclopedia of Christian wisdom Peter Šajda

vii ix

1

Johann Arndt: The pietist Impulse in Kierkegaard and Seventeenth-Century Lutheran Devotional Literature Joseph Ballan

21

Ludovicus Blosius: A Frightful Satire on Christendom Peter Šajda

31

Jacob Böhme: The Ambiguous Legacy of Speculative passion Lee C. Barrett

43

Hans Adolph Brorson: Danish pietism’s Greatest Hymn writer and His Relation to Kierkegaard Christopher B. Barnett

63

John Calvin: Kierkegaard and the Question of the Law’s Third use David Yoon-Jung Kim

81

Erasmus of Rotterdam: Kierkegaard’s Hints at a Christian Humanist Finn Gredal Jensen

111

François de Salignac de la Mothe-Fénelon: Clearing the way for The Sickness unto Death Peter Šajda

129

vi

Kierkegaard and the Renaissance and Modern Traditions

August Hermann Francke: Kierkegaard on the Kernel and the Husk of pietist Theology Joseph Ballan

149

Thomas Kingo: An Investigation of the poet’s and Hymnist’s Impact on Kierkegaard Christopher B. Barnett

157

Martin Luther: Reform, Secularization, and the Question of His “True Successor” David Yoon-Jung Kim and Joel D.S. Rasmussen

173

Hieronimus Savonarola: Kierkegaard’s Model for the Blood-witness Ivan Ž. Sørensen

219

Gerhard Tersteegen: Kierkegaard’s Reception of a Man of “Noble piety and Simple wisdom” Christopher B. Barnett

245

Index of Persons Index of Subjects

259 267

List of Contributors Joseph Ballan, university of Chicago Divinity School, Swift Hall, 1025 East 58th St., Chicago, IL 60637, uSA. Christopher B. Barnett, c/o Søren Kierkegaard Research Centre, Farvergade 27 D, 1463 Copenhagen K, Denmark. Lee C. Barrett, Lancaster Theological Seminary, 555 w. James St., Lancaster, pA 17603, uSA. Finn Gredal Jensen, Society for Danish Language and Literature, Christians Brygge 1, 1219 Copenhagen K, Denmark. David Yoon-Jung Kim, The Divinity School, Harvard university, 45 Francis Avenue, Cambridge, MA 02138, uSA. Joel D.S. Rasmussen, Mansfield College, Oxford University, Mansfield Road, Oxford, OX1 3TF, uK. Peter Šajda, Slovak Academy of Sciences, Institute of philosophy, Klemensova 19, 813 64 Bratislava, Slovakia. Ivan Ž. Sørensen, Roskilde Gymnasium, Domkirkepladsen, 4000 Roskilde, Denmark.

List of Abbreviations Danish Abbreviations B&A

Breve og Aktstykker vedrørende Søren Kierkegaard, ed. by Niels Thulstrup, vols. 1–2, Copenhagen: Munksgaard 1953–54.

Bl.art.

S. Kierkegaard’s Bladartikler, med Bilag samlede efter Forfatterens Død, udgivne som Supplement til hans øvrige Skrifter, ed. by Rasmus Nielsen, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1857.

EP

Af Søren Kierkegaards Efterladte Papirer, vols. 1–9, ed. by H.p. Barfod and Hermann Gottsched, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1869–81.

Pap.

Søren Kierkegaards Papirer, vols. I to XI–3, ed. by peter Andreas Heiberg, victor Kuhr and Einer Torsting, Copenhagen: Gyldendalske Boghandel, Nordisk Forlag, 1909–48; second, expanded ed., vols. I to XI–3, by Niels Thulstrup, vols. XII to XIII supplementary volumes, ed. by Niels Thulstrup, vols. XIv to XvI index by Niels Jørgen Cappelørn, Copenhagen: Gyldendal 1968–78.

SKS

Søren Kierkegaards Skrifter, vols. 1–28, K1–K28, ed. by Niels Jørgen Cappelørn, Joakim Garff, Jette Knudsen, Johnny Kondrup, Alastair McKinnon and Finn Hauberg Mortensen, Copenhagen: Gads Forlag 1997ff.

SV1

Samlede Værker, ed. by A.B. Drachmann, Johan Ludvig Heiberg and H.O. Lange, vols. I–XIv, Copenhagen: Gyldendalske Boghandels Forlag 1901–06. English Abbreviations

AN

Armed Neutrality, trans. by Howard v. Hong and Edna H. Hong, princeton: princeton university press 1998.

AR

On Authority and Revelation, The Book on Adler, trans. by walter Lowrie, princeton: princeton university press 1955.

ASKB

The Auctioneer’s Sales Record of the Library of Søren Kierkegaard, ed. by H.p. Rohde, Copenhagen: The Royal Library 1967.

x

Kierkegaard and the Renaissance and Modern Traditions

BA

The Book on Adler, trans. by Howard v. Hong and Edna H. Hong, princeton: princeton university press 1998.

C

The Crisis and a Crisis in the Life of an Actress, trans. by Howard v. Hong and Edna H. Hong, princeton: princeton university press 1997.

CA

The Concept of Anxiety, trans. by Reidar Thomte in collaboration with Albert B. Anderson, princeton: princeton university press 1980.

CD

Christian Discourses, trans. by Howard v. Hong and Edna H. Hong, princeton: princeton university press 1997.

CI

The Concept of Irony, trans. by Howard v. Hong and Edna H. Hong, princeton: princeton university press 1989.

CIC

The Concept of Irony, trans. with an Introduction and Notes by Lee M. Capel, London: Collins 1966.

COR

The Corsair Affair; Articles Related to the Writings, trans. by Howard v. Hong and Edna H. Hong, princeton: princeton university press 1982.

CUP1

Concluding Unscientific Postscript, vol. 1, trans. by Howard v. Hong and Edna H. Hong, princeton: princeton university press 1992.

CUP2

Concluding Unscientific Postscript, vol. 2, trans. by Howard v. Hong and Edna H. Hong, princeton: princeton university press 1992.

EO1

Either/Or, part I, trans. by Howard v. Hong and Edna H. Hong, princeton: princeton university press 1987.

EO2

Either/Or, part II, trans. by Howard v. Hong and Edna H. Hong, princeton: princeton university press 1987.

EOP

Either/Or, trans. by Alastair Hannay, Harmondsworth: penguin Books 1992.

EPW

Early Polemical Writings, among others: From the Papers of One Still Living; Articles from Student Days; The Battle Between the Old and the New Soap-Cellars, trans. by Julia watkin, princeton: princeton university press 1990.

EUD

Eighteen Upbuilding Discourses, trans. by Howard v. Hong and Edna H. Hong, princeton: princeton university press 1990.

FSE

For Self-Examination, trans. by Howard v. Hong and Edna H. Hong, princeton: princeton university press 1990.

List of Abbreviations

xi

FT

Fear and Trembling, trans. by Howard v. Hong and Edna H. Hong, princeton: princeton university press 1983.

FTP

Fear and Trembling, trans. by Alastair Hannay, Harmondsworth: penguin Books 1985.

JC

Johannes Climacus, or De omnibus dubitandum est, trans. by Howard v. Hong and Edna H. Hong, princeton: princeton university press 1985.

JFY

Judge for Yourself!, trans. by Howard v. Hong and Edna H. Hong, princeton: princeton university press 1990.

JP

Søren Kierkegaard’s Journals and Papers, vols. 1–6, ed. and trans. by Howard v. Hong and Edna H. Hong, assisted by Gregor Malantschuk (vol. 7, Index and Composite Collation), Bloomington and London: Indiana university press 1967–78.

KAC

Kierkegaard’s Attack upon “Christendom,” 1854–1855, trans. by walter Lowrie, princeton: princeton university press 1944.

KJN

Kierkegaard’s Journals and Notebooks, vols. 1–11, ed. by Niels Jørgen Cappelørn, Alastair Hannay, David Kangas, Bruce H. Kirmmse, George pattison, vanessa Rumble, and K. Brian Söderquist, princeton and Oxford: princeton university press 2007ff.

LD

Letters and Documents, trans. by Henrik Rosenmeier, princeton: princeton university press 1978 (A translation of B&A).

LR

A Literary Review, trans. by Alastair Hannay, Harmondsworth: penguin Books 2001.

M

The Moment and Late Writings, trans. by Howard v. Hong and Edna H. Hong, princeton: princeton university press 1998.

P

Prefaces, trans. by Todd w. Nichol, princeton: princeton university press 1997.

PC

Practice in Christianity, trans. by Howard v. Hong and Edna H. Hong, princeton: princeton university press 1991.

PF

Philosophical Fragments, trans. by Howard v. Hong and Edna H. Hong, princeton: princeton university press 1985.

PJ

Papers and Journals: A Selection, trans. by Alastair Hannay, Harmondsworth: penguin Books 1996.

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PLR

Prefaces: Light Reading for Certain Classes as the Occasion May Require, trans. by william McDonald, Tallahassee: Florida State university press 1989.

PLS

Concluding Unscientific Postscript, trans. by David F. Swenson and walter Lowrie, princeton: princeton university press 1941.

PV

The Point of View including On My Work as an Author, The Point of View for My Work as an Author, and Armed Neutrality, trans. by Howard v. Hong and Edna H. Hong, princeton: princeton university press 1998.

PVL

The Point of View for My Work as an Author including On My Work as an Author, trans. by walter Lowrie, New York and London: Oxford university press 1939.

R

Repetition, trans. by Howard v. Hong and Edna H. Hong, princeton: princeton university press 1983.

SBL

Notes of Schelling’s Berlin Lectures, trans. by Howard v. Hong and Edna H. Hong, princeton: princeton university press 1989.

SLW

Stages on Life’s Way, trans. by Howard v. Hong and Edna H. Hong, princeton: princeton university press 1988.

SUD

The Sickness unto Death, trans. by Howard v. Hong and Edna H. Hong, princeton: princeton university press 1980.

SUDP

The Sickness unto Death, trans. by Alastair Hannay, London and New York: penguin Books 1989.

TA

Two Ages: The Age of Revolution and the Present Age. A Literary Review, trans. by Howard v. Hong and Edna H. Hong, princeton: princeton university press 1978.

TD

Three Discourses on Imagined Occasions, trans. by Howard v. Hong and Edna H. Hong, princeton: princeton university press 1993.

UD

Upbuilding Discourses in Various Spirits, trans. by Howard v. Hong and Edna H. Hong, princeton: princeton university press 1993.

WA

Without Authority including The Lily in the Field and the Bird of the Air, Two Ethical-Religious Essays, Three Discourses at the Communion on Fridays, An Upbuilding Discourse, Two Discourses at the Communion on Fridays, trans. by Howard v. Hong and Edna H. Hong, princeton: princeton university press 1997.

List of Abbreviations

xiii

WS

Writing Sampler, trans. by Todd w. Nichol, princeton: princeton university press 1997.

WL

Works of Love, trans. by Howard v. Hong and Edna H. Hong, princeton: princeton university press 1995.

Abraham a Sancta Clara: An Aphoristic Encyclopedia of Christian wisdom peter Šajda

The acquaintance of Søren Kierkegaard with the Baroque Catholic writer Abraham a Sancta Clara may seem surprising at first glance. The German religious writer was for many decades practically unknown in the protestant world, but his literary talent, peculiar style, and unique combination of humor and satire with Christian moral pedagogy ensured him a lasting, albeit fluctuating, popularity. Kierkegaard was a long-time reader of Abraham a Sancta Clara, gradually purchasing all of Abraham’s works and quoting them both in his published and unpublished writings. It is therefore relevant to examine what attracted Kierkegaard to the Baroque author and why Kierkegaard’s reception of Abraham a Sancta Clara differed from that of many other thinkers of his time. I. Brief Overview of Abraham a Sancta Clara’s Life and Literary Legacy Johann ulrich Megerle, who later became known under his religious name Abraham a Sancta Clara, was born probably on July 2, 1644 in Kreenheinstetten near Meßkirch in southern Germany. After attending the local school and the Latin school in Meßkirch, he was sent to Ingolstadt, where he continued his education with the Jesuits. Following the death of his father, his further education was taken care of by his uncle Abraham Megerle (1607–80), a canon in Altötting, who sent Johann ulrich to study in Salzburg, this time with the Benedictines. In 1662 Johann ulrich Megerle joined the order of Discalced Augustinians1 and started his novitiate in the recently founded priory of Mariabrunn, near vienna. Out of gratitude to his uncle he adopted the religious name Abraham a Sancta Clara. Due to the increasing danger of Turkish invasion, Abraham a Sancta Clara was forced to interrupt his studies in vienna and evacuate first to Prague and later to Ferrara, from where he returned to Austria in 1665. After his ordination, he was assigned first to Vienna and then to the Swabian 1

This reformed branch of the Augustinian order, which came into being in 1592 in Italy, had in Central Europe a relatively short history at the time of Abraham a Sancta Clara’s joining the order. Shortly after the foundation of the priory in prague (1626), the order formed a community in vienna in 1631. In 1636 Emperor Ferdinand II authorized the Discalced Augustinians to establish a priory in Mariabrunn, where Abraham a Sancta Clara entered the novitiate.

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Peter Šajda

pilgrimage site of Taxa, administered by the Discalced Augustinians, from where he was summoned back to vienna in 1672. On November 15, 1673 the Augustinian preached in Klosterneuburg on the occasion of the pilgrimage of the imperial court to the tomb of St. Leopold, and his sermon was published under the title Astriacus Austriacus. In 1677 Abraham a Sancta Clara received the honorary title of imperial preacher, which he included on the title page of most of his works, thus providing them with a special authority.2 As a reaction to the plague epidemics that erupted in vienna in 1679, Abraham a Sancta Clara composed his most famous work, Mercks Wienn, that appeared in 1680 and immediately became a bestseller. This book, which contained powerful illustrative language3 and combined the genres of a plague treatise and fraternity book with the Totentanz tradition and upbuilding literature,4 ensured the Swabian Augustinian a lasting recognition and popularity. As Mercks Wienn comprised relatively few specifically Catholic elements and its style was sensitive to nonCatholic readers,5 it was able to transcend the boundaries of a confessional readership and reach a wide international audience. The Turkish invasion, which at last led to the siege of vienna in July 1683, was the impetus that prompted Abraham a Sancta Clara to write his call for resistance against the Ottoman “arch-enemy” entitled Auff auff ihr Christen (1683). This work brought the German theologian into a close co-operation with the Salzburgbased printing house of Melchior Haan which was to play a decisive part in the dissemination of his literary works.6 In the years following the liberation of vienna, Abraham a Sancta Clara resided at the priory of Graz, where he was elected prior in 1686. In the same year appeared the first volume of his large-scale work Judas der Ertz-Schelm, which had a crucial impact on the later reception of his oeuvre and was considered by several generations of scholars to be his main work. In 1689 Abraham a Sancta Clara was elected prior provincial, and it was during his tenure that the Latin work Grammatica Religiosa (1691) was published in Salzburg; a book that attracted special interest on the part of Kierkegaard. In the ensuing years the Augustinian held several leading positions in his order and continued to be a prolific author. He published works in a wide variety of genres, many of which saw a number of reprinted editions, including a German edition of Grammatica Religiosa, published in 1699 in Cologne. In 1707 appeared the moral pedagogical work Huy! und Pfuy! Der Welt, which coupled the texts of Abraham a Sancta Clara with the exquisite engravings of Jan Luyken (1649–1712) The title imperial preacher did not involve any special position at the viennese court. It was an honorary title that provided Abraham a Sancta Clara with no political or pastoral privileges. Cf. Franz M. Eybl, Abraham a Sancta Clara. Vom Prediger zum Schriftsteller, Tübingen: Max Niemeyer verlag 1992, pp. 49–59. 3 Cf. Martin Heidegger, Über Abraham a Santa Clara, Meßkirch: Stadt Meßkirch 1964, pp. 7–8. 4 Cf. Eybl, Abraham a Sancta Clara. Vom Prediger zum Schriftsteller, p. 238. 5 Ibid., p. 277. 6 Cf. Manfred Arndorfer, “Abraham a Sancta Clara und die Erstdrucker seiner werke bis 1709,” in Abraham a Sancta Clara, Karlsruhe: Badische Landesbibliothek 1982, p. 69. 2

Abraham a Sancta Clara: An Aphoristic Encyclopedia of Christian Wisdom

3

and Caspar Luyken (1672–1708). This “most mature and finest” work of Abraham a Sancta Clara was published two years before the author’s death.7 The Augustinian theologian died on December 1, 1709. After his death Abraham a Sancta Clara remained a popular author, which prompted the publication of his Nachlass and the production of various compilations and apocrypha. The fact that Abraham’s books sold well, led several publishers to the idea of combining parts of his already published works with the texts of other authors, ascribing the literary hybrid to the Augustinian preacher. Also the publisher of Abraham’s Nachlass, his confrere Alexander a Latere Christi (d. 1719), edited the manuscripts in such a way that the final product was in fact a work of two authors. The posthumous reception of the writings of the Baroque Catholic author experienced several waves, whereby especially after 1750 the number of reprinted editions declined substantially and mostly minor pieces were published.8 The nineteenth century brought about a revival of interest in Abraham a Sancta Clara, part of which was the multi-volume edition of the author’s Complete Works, published between 1835 and 1847, primarily in passau and Lindau.9 Although this edition did not differentiate between Abraham’s own oeuvre and later additions, it played an important role in the popularization of his writings across German-speaking Europe. It was this edition that conveyed the thought of the Swabian theologian to Kierkegaard, who read it thoroughly, highlighting 63 passages in 8 different volumes. II. The Reception of Abraham a Sancta Clara in the German Enlightenment, Classicism, and Romanticism The sources that might have played a role in acquainting Kierkegaard with Abraham a Sancta Clara, did not interpret the Augustinian author in a uniform way. Some treated him as a historical curiosity with little ideological or literary relevance, while others saw in him a valuable upbuilding author or a genuine literary talent. For most of these sources, however, it was Abraham’s peculiar language and original style that evoked interest and not so much the spiritual message behind them. The sources that were at Kierkegaard’s disposal were almost exclusively of German provenance and ranged from the period of the Enlightenment to Classicism and Romanticism. A short profile of Abraham a Sancta Clara appears in Christian Gottlieb Jöcher’s (1694–1758) Allgemeines Gelehrten-Lexicon, whose four volumes were published

Friedemann Maurer, Abraham a Sancta Claras “Huy! Und Pfuy! Der Welt, Heidelberg: Quelle & Meyer 1968, p. 30. See this work also for the analysis of the pedagogic aspects of Abraham’s pastoral activity. 8 Cf. Jean Schillinger, Abraham a Sancta Clara. Pastorale et discours politique dans l’Autriche du XVII siècle, Bern: peter Lang 1993, p. 294. 9 Abraham a St. Clara’s Sämmtliche Werke, vols. 1–21, vols. 1–2, passau: winkler and vienna: Gerold 1835; vols. 3–6, passau: winkler, vienna: Gerold et al. and Breslau: Max 1835; vols. 7–12, passau: winkler 1836–37; vols. 13–14, passau: pustet 1840–41; vols. 15– 21, Lindau: Stettner and Augsburg: Rieger 1841–47 (ASKB 294–311). Kierkegaard owned the complete edition. 7

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in 1750–51.10 This alphabetically ordered encyclopedia of scholars of all times contains brief biographical information on the Augustinian theologian, as well as an overview of his works. It presents Abraham as an exceptionally gifted priest and renowned preacher, and when listing his most excellent works, it places Grammatica Religiosa at the top of the list.11 Kierkegaard owned Jöcher’s work and used it to obtain data about authors he was not familiar with, for which he gives evidence in the preface to Either/Or, where he mentions Jöcher along with Diogenes Laertius and Louis Moréri (1643–80).12 Louis Moréri’s Le Grand Dictionnaire historique, which was part of Kierkegaard’s personal library, treats Abraham a Sancta Clara only briefly: presenting him as a priest with “rare talents,” but making no concrete reference to his works.13 The monumental Allgemeine Encyclopädie der Wissenschaften und Künste published by Johann Samuel Ersch (1766–1828) and Johann Gottfried Gruber (1774–1851) describes Abraham a Sancta Clara as a man of two extremes. It speaks of a “burlesque originality of his sermons,” praising his “deep knowledge of the human” and his “love of truth,” but criticizing him for taking recourse to “the most unworthy jests” and sinking to “the lowest platitude.”14 Ideologically, Abraham is seen as incapable of transcending the limitations of his age and—although equally distant from mysticism and scholasticism—he remains an intolerant and superstitious folk preacher, loyal to the Catholic dogmatism of his time. A rather unfavorable picture of Abraham a Sancta Clara is found in the second essay of Anti-Goeze by Gotthold Ephraim Lessing (1729–81). In his theological polemics against the Hamburg pastor Johann Melchior Goeze (1717–86), Lessing makes use of an opposition of Abraham a Sancta Clara, on the one hand, and Shakespeare and Molière, on the other. The Augustinian is presented as a preacher of inferior quality, who would make a poor comedy writer, whereas the English and French dramatists are seen as potentially excellent preachers.15 Kierkegaard was Christian Gottlieb Jöcher, Allgemeines Gelehrten-Lexicon, Leipzig: Johann Friedrich Gleditschens Buchhandlung 1750–51 (ASKB 948–951). In the Auction Catalogue C.G. Jöcher’s lexicon is listed together with its continuation, produced by Johann Christoph Adelung (cf. ASKB 948–953). 11 Jöcher, Allgemeines Gelehrten-Lexicon, p. 31. 12 SKS 2, 19 / EO1, 11. 13 Le Grand Dictionnaire historique ou le Mélange curieux de l’histoire sacrée et profane, Qui Contient en Abregé l’Histoire Fabuleuse des Dieux & des Héros de l’Antiquité Payenne, ed. by pierre Roques, vols. 1–6, Basel: Jean Brandmuller 1731–32, vol. 1, p. 39 (ASKB 1965–1969). 14 Johann Samuel Ersch and Johann Gottfried Gruber, Allgemeine Encyclopädie der Wissenschaften und Künste, section 1, vols. 1–29; section 2, vols. 1–14; section 3, vols. 1–9, Leipzig: Gleditsch 1818–31 and Leipzig: F.A. Brockhaus 1831–37 [section 1, vols. 1–99; section 2, vols. 1–43; section 3, vols. 1–25, Leipzig: Gleditsch 1818–31 and Leipzig: F.A. Brockhaus 1831–89], section 1, vol. 1, p. 160 (ASKB 1311–1363). 15 Gotthold Ephraim Lessing, Sämmtliche Schriften, Berlin: vossische Buchhandlung 1825–28, vol. 6, pp. 124–5 (ASKB 1747–1762): “Wer Logik in einer Komödie zeigt, dem würde sie gewiß auch zu einer Predigt nicht entstehen: so wie der, dem sie in einer Predigt mangelt, nimmermehr mit ihrer Hülfe auch eine nur erträgliche Komödie zu Stande bringen 10

Abraham a Sancta Clara: An Aphoristic Encyclopedia of Christian Wisdom

5

familiar with Lessing’s controversy with Goeze and owned Lessing’s Sämmtliche Schriften.16 In the Concluding Unscientific Postscript he included several ironic comments on Goeze when elaborating at length on the views of Lessing.17 Abraham a Sancta Clara appears also in Geschichte der komischen Litteratur, written by the Silesian literary historian Karl Friedrich Flögel (1729–88).18 In his discussion on the nature of the comical Flögel argues that a great part of it is determined by the age to which it belongs and that most writers “carry the sign of their time on their forehead.”19 As an example of the volatile nature of the genius saeculi he mentions Abraham a Sancta Clara, whose writings used to enjoy high esteem, but already some decades after his death were subject to censorship.20 Kierkegaard owned Flögel’s treatise on the history of comic literature and used it repeatedly as a source of inspiration. He referred to it at the beginning of Either/ Or, in the Diapsalmata,21 or availed himself of it when composing the Concluding Unscientific Postscript.22 Flögel included a short chapter on Abraham a Sancta Clara also in his Geschichte des Burlesken,23 where he maintains that Abraham’s sermons were “diligently attended by many not for the sake of edification, but for the sake of laughter.”24 As an illustration of Abraham’s “burlesque writing style”25 Flögel cites his poem würde, und wenn er der unerschöpflichste Spaßvogel unter der Sonne wäre. Glauben Sie, daß Pater Abraham gute Komödien gemacht hätte? Gewiß nicht, denn seine Predigten sind allzu elend. Aber wer zweifelt wohl, daß Moliere und Shakespeare vortreffliche Predigten gemacht und gehalten hätten, wenn sie, anstatt des Theaters, die Kanzel hätten besteigen wollen?” 16 Gotthold Ephraim Lessing’s sämmtliche Schriften, vols. 1–32, vols. 1–28, Berlin: vossische Buchhandlung 1825–27; vols. 29–32 Berlin and Stettin: Nicolaische Buchhandlung 1828 (ASKB 1747–1762). 17 SKS 7, 90 / CUP1, 91. SKS 7, 104 / CUP1, 107. 18 Karl Friedrich Flögel, Geschichte der komischen Litteratur, vols. 1–4, Liegnitz and Leipzig: David Siegert 1784–87 (ASKB 1396–1399). 19 Ibid., vol. 1, p. 171. 20 Ibid.: “Man hat schon längst bemerkt, daß die meisten Schriftsteller das Gepräge ihres Zeitalters auf ihrer Stirn tragen; wodurch sie entweder geehrt oder gebrandmarkt werden; ob es gleich zu allen Zeiten Ausnahmen im guten und bösen Verstande gegeben hat. Da ein grosser Theil des Komischen nicht allgemeiner, sondern besondern Natur ist, so wird es auch durch die Zeiten abgeändert...Der berühmte Pater Abraham a Sancta Klara wurde ehmals vor einen sehr erbaulichen Prediger gehalten, und in Wien kam ihm keiner an Beyfall gleich; allein schon unter der Kayserin Maria Theresia stand sein bekanntes Buch: Gack, Gack, Gack, Gack a Ga einer wunderseltsamen Hennen im Hertzogthum Beyern in der schwarzen Rolle verbotner Bücher.” Kierkegaard’s edition of Flögel also comprises an index of names, where the name of Abraham a Sancta Clara is listed as the first entry. 21 SKS 2, 29 / EO1, 11. Kierkegaard refers in Either/Or to the first volume of Flögel’s four-volume work, where also the reference to Abraham a Sancta Clara is found. 22 Pap. vI B 98, 68. 23 Karl Friedrich Flögel, Geschichte des Burlesken, Leipzig: Schwickertscher verlag 1794, pp. 241–5 (ASKB 1400). 24 Ibid., p. 241. 25 Ibid., p. 243.

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“Anthony of padua’s Fish Sermon,” as well as his plastic depiction of the Black Death in Mercks Wienn. An important mention of the Swabian theologian can be found in Johann wolfgang von Goethe’s (1749–1832) autobiography Aus meinem Leben: Dichtung und Wahrheit, where Goethe introduces the reader to the world-view and ideological legacy of Johann Kaspar Lavater (1741–1801). when discussing Lavater’s Pontius Pilate, Goethe establishes a similarity between the Swiss thinker and Abraham a Sancta Clara in their style of instructing “the masses” about Christ, whereby he emphasizes Lavater’s literal interpretation of the Bible. The edition of Goethe’s works that Kierkegaard owned was, however, incomplete and comprised only the first 15 books of Goethe’s autobiography,26 which makes it rather unlikely that Kierkegaard encountered the viennese preacher through Goethe. Goethe’s interest in Abraham a Sancta Clara had an effect on his friend Friedrich von Schiller (1759–1805), whom he made familiar with the Augustinian writer in 1798 when the latter was completing the first part of his dramatic trilogy Wallenstein. On October 5, 1798 Goethe sent Schiller some of Abraham’s works with the intention of providing him with inspiration for his figure of a Capuchin in Wallenstein’s Camp. Schiller was amazed by Abraham’s eloquence and style and described him in a letter to Goethe as “a wonderful original, who necessarily evokes respect.”27 The sermon of the Capuchin, which Schiller included in Scene vIII of Wallenstein’s Camp, is an imitation of Abraham a Sancta Clara’s literary style, directly borrowing phrases from the Augustinian’s works. Although Kierkegaard possessed Schiller’s Complete Works,28 it is unclear whether he paid any attention to the Kapuzinerpredigt in Wallenstein.29 A very probable source of information on Abraham a Sancta Clara for the young Kierkegaard is Jean paul (1763–1825), to whom the Danish thinker referred in one of his journal entries as “the greatest humorist capitalist.”30 Jean paul appears 26

Abraham a Sancta Clara is mentioned in Book 19 of Goethe’s autobiography. Kierkegaard owned the following edition: Goethe’s Werke. Vollständige Ausgabe letzter Hand [in 55 volumes], vols. 1–40, Stuttgart and Tübingen: J.G. Cotta’sche Buchhandlung 1827–30; Goethe’s nachgelassene Werke, vols. 41–55, Stuttgart and Tübingen: J.G. Cotta’sche Buchhandlung 1832–33 (ASKB 1641–1668). 27 Briefwechsel zwischen Schiller und Goethe in den Jahren 1794 bis 1805, Stuttgart and Tübingen: J.G. Cotta’sche Buchhandlung 1828–29, vol. 4, p. 335. The letter is from October 9, 1798. In this edition it is listed under the number 516. For more detail on the discussion about the Kapuzinerpredigt between Schiller and Goethe see letters nos. 510, 511, 512a, 514, and 515. 28 Schillers sämmtliche Werke in zwölf Bänden, vols. 1–12, Stuttgart and Tübingen: J.G. Cotta’sche Buchhandlung 1838 (ASKB 1804–1815). Scene vIII of Wallenstein’s Camp which contains material borrowed from Abraham a Sancta Clara is found in vol. 4, pp. 33–8. 29 The fact that Schiller was inspired by Abraham a Sancta Clara when writing his Wallenstein is mentioned in at least two other sources that Kierkgaard probably consulted: Ersch and Gruber, Allgemeine Encyclopädie der Wissenschaften und Künste, section 1, vol. 1, p. 160; Karl wilhelm Böttiger, vols. 1–8, Verdenshistorien i Levnetsbeskrivelser, Copenhagen: C. Steens Forlag 1840–45, part 2, vol. 6, p. 200. 30 SKS 17, 225, DD:18.e / KJN 1, 217.

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in Kierkegaard’s notes already in March 1836 when the philosopher was reading Christian Molbech’s (1783–1857) Lectures on More Recent Danish Poetry,31 and in 1837 he is part of Kierkegaard’s reflections on his attitude to journal-writing.32 Jean paul mentions Abraham a Sancta Clara in his Vorschule der Aesthetik, which Kierkegaard owned in two versions,33 and which was at his time a popular piece of reference literature. Jean paul’s brief ode to Abraham a Sancta Clara is found in the first part of the work, at the beginning of Program VIII, whose focus is epic, dramatic and lyric humor. Here Jean Paul virtually places a flower on the grave of Abraham a Sancta Clara and claims that the greatest obstacle to the recognition of his talent was “the century and a triple place: Germany, vienna and the pulpit.”34 Although Kierkegaard does not explicitly mention Jean paul’s praise of the Augustinian satiricus, in his The Concept of Irony he refers to the presentation of irony and humor in Vorschule der Aesthetik, which follows almost immediately after the reference to Abraham a Sancta Clara.35 Kierkegaard could also have encountered Abraham a Sancta Clara in the anthology of German songs Des Knaben Wunderhorn, edited by Achim von Arnim (1781–1831) and Clemens Brentano (1778–1842). This anthology—which was part of Kierkegaard’s library—comprised the poem “Anthony of padua’s Fish Sermon” adopted from Abraham a Sancta Clara’s Judas der Ertz-Schelm, whereby the editors included both the name of the original author and the title of the source.36 A short and highly positive presentation of the Augustinian preacher is found in wolfgang Menzel’s Die deutsche Literatur—which Kierkegaard purchased as early as 1836—where Abraham is referred to as “a most spiritous humorist and a laughing Christian Molbech, Forelæsninger over den nyere danske Poesi, særdeles efter Digterne Evalds, Baggesens og Oehlenschlägers Værker, vols. 1–2, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1832. Cf. SKS 17, 60, BB:1 / KJN 1, 53–6. 32 SKS 17, 229, DD:28 / KJN 1, 221–2. 33 [Johann paul Friedrich Richter], Jean paul, Vorschule der Aesthetik nebst einigen Vorlesungen in Leipzig über die Parteien der Zeit, vols. 1–3, 2nd revised ed., Stuttgart and Tübingen: J.G. Cotta’sche Buchhandlung 1813 (ASKB 1381–1383); Jean paul, Sämmtliche Werke, Berlin: G. Reimer 1826–28, vol. 41 (ASKB 1777–1799). 34 Jean paul, Vorschule der Aesthetik, vol. 1, p. 293: “Eine Blume werde auch hier auf das Grab des guten Abraham a Santa Clara gelegt, welches gewiß einen Lorbeerbaurn trüge, wär’ es in England gemacht worden und seine Wiege vorher; seinem Witz für Gestalten und Wörter, seinem humoristischen Dramatisieren schadete nichts als das Jahrhundert und ein dreifacher Ort, Deutschland, Wien und Kanzel.” See also Jean paul, Sämmtliche Werke, vol. 41, p. 198. 35 SKS 1, 284 / CI, 244–5. 36 Achim von Arnim and Clemens Brentano, Des Knaben Wunderhorn. Alte deutsche Lieder, vols. 1–3, 2nd ed., Heidelberg: Mohr und winter 1819 (ASKB 1494–1496), vol. 1, pp. 357–9. The editors shortened and adapted the poem, and gave it the title Des Antonius von Padua Fischpredigt. For further detail see Clemens Brentano, Sämtliche Werke und Briefe, Stuttgart: verlag w. Kohlhammer 1975ff., vol. 9, 1, pp. 578–81; Josef Schmidt, “Kein predig niemalen den Fischln so gfallen,” in Deutsche Barocklyrik, ed. by Martin Bircher and Alois M. Haas, Bern: Francke verlag 1973, pp. 311–26. In Kierkegaard’s edition of Abraham a Sancta Clara’s Complete Works, the poem is found in vol. 2, pp. 47–8. 31

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satyrist”37 with the remark that he “hardly wrote a page on which the spirit would not be able to find nourishment.”38 A rare Danish source of information on Abraham a Sancta Clara available to Kierkegaard was Karl wilhelm Böttiger’s (1790–1862) Die Weltgeschichte in Biographieen translated from German in part by Kierkegaard’s relative Hans Brøchner (1820–75).39 The depiction has an encyclopedic character and contains several phrases obviously borrowed from the above mentioned Allgemeine Encyclopädie der Wissenschaften und Künste. An intriguing presentation of Abraham a Sancta Clara—that undoubtedly would have been of interest to Kierkegaard—appears in Joseph von Eichendorff’s (1788– 1857) Geschichte der poetischen Literatur Deutschlands.40 This work was, however, published only in 1857, two years after Kierkegaard’s death. In Eichendorff’s historical analysis Abraham a Sancta Clara is described as “the most evident antipode to the pietists,”41 since he succeeded in combining the seriousness of the Christian kerygma with humor and satire, thus exerting a much greater influence on the believers than the austere pietists.42 In his exposé Eichendorff also welcomes the fact that the writings of German Catholic authors, such as Abraham a Sancta Clara or Angelus Silesius (1624–77), began to experience a revival after the long decades of ignorance. III. Kierkegaard’s Reading of Abraham a Sancta Clara Kierkegaard became acquainted with the literary legacy of Abraham a Sancta Clara through the 21-volume Sämmtliche Werke, published between 1835 and 1847 in passau and Lindau. Since this edition was aimed at promoting the baroque author in the literary milieu of the nineteenth century, it sought to adapt the original works to the standards and taste of the contemporary reader.43 Although the result of

wolfgang Menzel, Die deutsche Literatur, vols. 1–4, 2nd enlarged ed., Stuttgart: Hallberg’sche verlagshandlung 1836, vol. 3, p. 246 (ASKB u 79). 38 Ibid., p. 247. 39 Karl wilhelm Böttiger, Verdenshistorie i Levnetsbeskrivelser, vols. 1–8, trans. by A.C. Lund and Hans Brøchner, Copenhagen: Steens Forlag 1840–45, vol. 6, pp. 199–200 (originally, Die Weltgeschichte in Biographieen, vols. 1–8, Berlin: Duncker und Humblot 1839–43). 40 Joseph Freiherr von Eichendorff, Geschichte der poetischen Literatur Deutschlands, parts 1–2, paderborn: verlag von Ferdinand Schöningh 1857. 41 Ibid., part 1, pp. 203–4: “Endlich müssen wir auch noch den ausgemachtesten Antipoden der Pietisten, den Wiener Hofprediger Abraham a Santa Clara (Ulrich Megerle, 1642–1709) hier anreihen. Nicht als ob etwa Abraham Jene wissentlich parodirt hätte; aber es läßt sich kaum ein entschiedener Gegensatz des reimelichen Pietismus denken, als diese herzhafte Volksfrömmigkeit, die, weil sie ihrer innerlich sicher ist, sich mit Scherz und Lachen gar wohl verträgt.” 42 Ibid., p. 204. 43 Cf. Abraham a Sancta Clara’s Sämmtliche Werke, vol. 1, pp. IX–XI. 37

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this “adaptation” was rather dubious and the original lost much of its elegance,44 the edition fulfilled its purpose of reintroducing the Augustinian author into the consciousness of the age. At the time of the publication of this edition, secondary literature on Abraham a Sancta Clara was basically non-existent,45 so Kierkegaard’s encounter with the Augustinian writer was almost entirely confined to his reading of primary sources. Kierkegaard owned all 21 volumes of the Sämmtliche Werke and purchased them in several stages at C.A. Reitzel’s in Copenhagen.46 Although he read the baroque author most intensively in 1847–48, his first mention of Abraham a Sancta Clara appears in a journal entry as early as 183747 and the last one as late as 1854.48 The Danish thinker read Abraham’s works attentively, highlighting 63 different passages,49 some of which he directly copied or paraphrased in his works and journals. An important aspect, which certainly contributed to the positive reception of Abraham a Sancta Clara on the part of Kierkegaard, is the fact that the Augustinian author focuses minimally on the speculative exposition of theological doctrine, and instead concentrates on the practical application of Christian ethics. In this sense Kierkegaard must have perceived Abraham a Sancta Clara in a way similar to other upbuilding authors—such as Johannes Tauler or Johann Arndt—who inspired the formulation of his own doctrina practica and its focal point, the imitation of Christ.

Schillinger, Abraham a Sancta Clara. Pastorale et discours politique dans l’Autriche du XVII siècle, p. 294. 45 Scientific discourse on Abraham a Sancta Clara’s life and work began in the late 1860s with Theodor Georg von Karajan and wilhelm Scherer and was later continued by a number of German-speaking scholars (Johann willibald Nagl, Hans Schulz, Karl Bertsche, etc.). 46 According to the bills listed in H.p. Rohde’s article, Kierkegaard purchased several volumes of Abraham a Sancta Clara’s works at C.A. Reitzel’s bookstore on January 7, 1846 and September 10, 1850. However, he had probably owned some of the volumes already before 1846, as he quoted Abraham a Sancta Clara in 1837 and 1841. Cf. H.p. Rohde, “Om Søren Kierkegaard som bogsamler,” Fund og Forskning, no. vIII, 1961, p. 120; p. 122. 47 SKS 17, 126, BB:37 / KJN 1, 116–25. 48 SKS 26, 179, NB32:90.a / JP 2, 1538. For further detail on Kierkegaard’s reading of Abraham a Sancta Clara’s Sämmtliche Werke see the following article: peter Šajda, “On Some Aspects of Kierkegaard’s Reading of Abraham a Sancta Clara,” in Kierkegaard and Great Philosophers, ed. by Roman Králik et al., Mexico City, Barcelona, and Šaľa: Sociedad Iberoamericana de Estudios Kierkegaardianos 2007 (Acta Kierkegaardiana, vol. 2), pp. 80–9. 49 The text of 61 passages highlighted by Kierkegaard in Abraham a Sancta Clara’s Complete Works can be found in Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 1–61. The editors of the Papirer included the full text of the marked passages. However, in several instances a broader context is needed in order to understand the meaning and position of the highlighted texts. Kierkegaard’s modes of highlighting included underlining, sidelining and folding corners of pages. In addition to the 61 passages listed in Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 1–61, there are two further passages highlighted by Kierkegaard, which I found during my study of Kierkegaard’s copy of Abraham’s Complete Works. They are located in vol. 11, p. 30, p. 31. The copy of Abraham a Sancta Clara’s Complete Works originally owned by Kierkegaard is currently in the possession of the Royal Library in Copenhagen. 44

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The fact that it was primarily Christian praxis that interested Kierkegaard when reading Abraham’s works, is confirmed also by the finding that more than half of the passages highlighted by Kierkegaard in the Sämmtliche Werke are located in Grammatica Religiosa.50 This work, whose main thematic focus is the practice of virtue, accounts also for a vast majority of the quotations and references to Abraham a Sancta Clara in Kierkegaard’s published and unpublished writings. It is a noteworthy fact that Kierkegaard read Abraham a Sancta Clara with an open mind and without ideological bias. Neither the marked passages, nor the reflections in his writings suggest that he was disturbed by the specifics of baroque Catholicism or the displays of pietas austriaca. A considerable number of passages highlighted by Kierkegaard in Abraham’s Sämmtliche Werke comprise distinctive Catholic phenomena, such as hagiography, apparitions,51 intensive sacramental life,52 liturgical specifica,53 or prophetic dreams.54 Some of the marked texts concern also Catholic doctrine—such as the belief in purgatory55—and a strong monastic element is present in many of the highlighted stories and quotations.56 It is, therefore, evident that Kierkegaard read Abraham a Sancta Clara for the sake of his own edification and with a possible intention of utilizing some of the acquired material for his own upbuilding works. From this perspective, the Augustinian author certainly functioned as one of the channels of Kierkegaard’s dialogue with Catholicism. One of the things that undoubtedly appealed to Kierkegaard when reading Abraham’s works was the embarras de richesse of references and quotations from older Christian authors. This fact matched Kierkegaard’s habit of recording in his journals short textual units of upbuilding character, often copying them from secondary sources. Since Abraham as a Catholic baroque preacher sought to “establish authority through tradition,”57 his upbuilding writings abound in quotations from spiritual authorities, such as the church fathers, saints or mystics.58 Although it 50

Out of the 63 marked passages in Kierkegaard’s copy of Abraham a Sancta Clara’s Complete Works 35 stem from Grammatica Religiosa. It is an interesting fact, however, that all the highlighted passages stem from the first two volumes of Grammatica Religiosa (Complete Works, vols. 15–16), whereas there is no evidence that Kierkegaard ever read the remaining two volumes of the same work (Complete Works, vols. 17–18). 51 Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 30. when referring to the passages in Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 1–61 a broader context of the marked texts will taken into account. 52 Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 10. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 20. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 54. 53 Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 3. 54 Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 14. 55 Ibid. 56 In the passages marked by Kierkegaard in Abraham a Sancta Clara’s Complete Works almost all of the quoted Christian authorities are monastic. Also, monks play a central role in a large part of the edifying stories and legends highlighted by Kierkegaard. The Danish thinker was introduced through Abraham to different traditions of religious life, as the marked passages comprise references to desert fathers, hermits, and monastics of the Augustinian, Benedictine, Cistercian, Franciscan, and Dominican traditions. 57 Eybl, Abraham a Sancta Clara. Vom Prediger zum Schriftsteller, p. 122. 58 Joseph Meuer, Forschungen zur Beurteilung Abrahams a S. Clara, Bottrop: wilhelm postberg 1938, p. 32.

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may seem, at first glance, that Abraham used an immense array of sources to support his doctrine with authority, the findings of modern research have shown that much of the quoted material stems from a relatively narrow range of sermon handbooks, compendia and other sources of encyclopedic character that were commonly used by the clergy of his time.59 The most quoted authorities in the passages highlighted by Kierkegaard are the Doctors of the Church, such as Augustine,60 Gregory the Great61 or Bernard of Clairvaux,62 but Abraham also conveyed to Kierkegaard the wisdom of later non-canonized authors, such as Johannes Tauler63 or Blosius.64 Non-Christian sources play a substantially less important role in Abraham’s writings, but they also caught Kierkegaard’s eye, especially when quoted for edifying purposes.65 A large part of the texts marked by Kierkegaard in Abraham’s works deals with the Christian dialectics of virtue and vice,66 whereby, according to Joseph Meuer, the primary focus of Abraham as a preacher were the virtues of purity, humility, and love.67 Kierkegaard did not approach Abraham’s reflections on virtuous conduct in a systematic way and highlighted passages dealing both with theological virtues, and various other virtues. Several of the marked passages address the issue of the transformation of will and the virtue of obedience.68 Some of these relate directly to the union of human will with the will of God, but the notion of enacting God’s will by means of obedience to one’s superiors is also discussed. In the latter case an inherent connection is present between the transformation of the will and the monastic vow of obedience. In connection with the vices directly harming the neighbor, Kierkegaard paid special attention to the vice of judging,69 whose original presentation in Grammatica Ibid., pp. 35–41; Max Michel, “Die volkssage bei Abraham a Sancta Clara,” Form und Geist, no. 61, 1933, pp. 53–4, p. 57; Eybl, Abraham a Sancta Clara. Vom Prediger zum Schriftsteller, pp. 134–43. 60 Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 10. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 19. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 27. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 53. 61 Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 11. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 20. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 26. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 29. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 42. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 46. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 58–9. 62 Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 16. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 25. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 31–32. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 39. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 42. 63 Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 55. 64 Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 49–50. 65 The passages marked by Kierkegaard in Abraham a Sancta Clara’s Complete Works include references to several non-Christian authorities, such as Xenophon, Seneca or Marcus Aurelius. Cf. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 15. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 21. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 52. Kierkegaard also highlighted a part of the story about zeuxis and parrhasius that originates from pliny the Elder and a story about Alexander the Great. Cf. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 11. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 24. See also Cf. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 7. 66 Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 13. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 15. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 17. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 19–20. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 23–25; Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 28. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 32–33. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 35. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 43–5. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 55–59. 67 Meuer, Forschungen zur Beurteilung Abrahams a S. Clara, pp. 47–54. 68 Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 43–4. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 53–5. 69 Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 29–31. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 33. Both of the passages highlighted by Kierkegaard in Abraham a Sancta Clara’s Complete Works, which are not included in Pap. 59

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Religiosa inspired him to develop further his own critique of relating to the neighbor through the prism of his sins. He turned to Abraham’s reflections on this topic when composing the final part of Works of Love,70 in which he introduced to the reader his concept of Christian like for like. The practice of asceticism in Abraham’s texts is often linked to the notion of dying to finite realities71 and per consequens also to a certain form of contemptus mundi.72 Although the Augustinian writer does not call for an external fuga mundi, he shows high appreciation for abnegation, solitude,73 poverty,74 and other detachment-oriented ideals common in monasticism. Some of the passages highlighted by Kierkegaard also suggest Abraham’s critical stance, or even a pessimistic view of the age he lived in,75 which is an interesting parallel to Kierkegaard’s own view of his contemporary age. According to Jean Schillinger, one of the major themes that can be traced throughout Abraham a Sancta Clara’s oeuvre is that of martyrdom.76 This theme, which was of vital importance for Kierkegaard’s concept of discipleship and Christianity in general, appears in some of the highlighted passages77 which were later directly quoted both in Kierkegaard’s journals and published works.78 Several of the texts marked by the Danish philosopher in Abraham a Sancta Clara’s works direct the attention of the reader to the issue of prayer, both criticizing misguided practice and offering instructions on a proper approach to prayer.79 Confidence in God in temptations and tribulations is a related phenomenon, which also captured Kierkegaard’s attention in several instances.80 A special case in this connection is the tradition of ars moriendi and the Christian challenge of viewing life sub specie mortis.81 The highlighted passages also include reflections on the role of fear and the necessary combination of fear and hope,82 whereby Abraham a Sancta Clara introduces this concept by claiming that salvation is obtained in fear and trembling.83 vIII–2 C 2, 1–61, concern the sin of judging: Cf. Abraham a St. Clara’s Sämmtliche Werke, vol. 11, pp. 30–1. 70 SKS 9, 375 / WL, 382–3. 71 Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 7; Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 16. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 38. 72 Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 61. 73 Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 16. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 39–42. 74 Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 38. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 55. 75 Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 5. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 11. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 14. 76 Schillinger, Abraham a Sancta Clara. Pastorale et discours politique dans l’Autriche du XVII siècle, p. 93; pp. 196–202. 77 Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 8. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 32. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 34. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 46–7. 78 SKS 9, 223 / WL, 220. SKS 18, 290, JJ:449 / KJN 2, 268. Pap. vIII 2 C 2, 8. 79 Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 1. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 12. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 14–16. 80 Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 18. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 26. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 34. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 45. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 49–51. 81 Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 4. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 23. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 43. 82 Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 17. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 19. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 27. 83 Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 17.

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The text marked by Kierkegaard in Auff auff ihr Christen concerns an issue which he treated at length in several of his works and which became a recurrent topic in his critique of the Danish religious status quo. In the mentioned passage Abraham a Sancta Clara points out the emptiness of nominal Christendom and compares the title “Christian” to the names of constellations, which are called Pisces or Aquila, although—as he points out—they neither swim, nor fly.84 The first seven volumes of Abraham’s Sämmtliche Werke provided Kierkegaard with rich material on the figure of Judas Iscariot,85 whom he repeatedly reflected on both in his published works and in his journals. The depiction of Judas in Abraham’s Judas der Ertzschelm—which was largely of medieval origin—found a direct echo in several of Kierkegaard’s journal entries. Abraham’s unique style of writing, his mastery of language, as well as his frequent use of humor and satire, were certainly among the factors that attracted Kierkegaard’s attention. There are, however, only a few passages that suggest that Kierkegaard highlighted them primarily due to Abraham’s stylistic abilities.86 Contrary to the classical and romantic sources, which might have introduced Kierkegaard to Abraham a Sancta Clara’s literary legacy, the Danish philosopher was not interested in the first place in the literary value of the Swabian author. It is obvious from the texts he marked in the Sämmtliche Werke that he read Abraham first and foremost as a Christian author. This is confirmed also by the fact that in his journals and published works Kierkegaard referred to Abraham a Sancta Clara almost exclusively when reflecting on religious matters. IV. Abraham a Sancta Clara in Kierkegaard’s Corpus Kierkegaard’s first mention of Abraham a Sancta Clara appears in a journal entry in 1837 within a longer reflection on the education of children.87 The reference is very brief and Kierkegaard quotes Abraham without indicating the cited work.88 The same quotation from Abraham reappears four years later in Kierkegaard’s dissertation The Concept of Irony, where again it has only minimal function in the text.89 These two instances are the only references to Abraham a Sancta Clara in Kierkegaard’s corpus that do not carry any explicitly religious meaning. After Kierkegaard’s purchase of further volumes of Abraham a Sancta Clara’s Sämmtliche Werke in 1846, a direct German quotation from Huy! und Pfuy! Der Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 5. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 2–3. 86 Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 6. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 13. 87 SKS 17, 126, BB:37 / KJN 1, 116–25. 88 Curtis L. Thompson identified as the source of this reference Gotthold Ephraim Lessing’s letter to his brother Karl Gotthelf from January 5, 1778. Cf. Gotthold Ephraim Lessing’s sämmtliche Schriften, vols. 1–32, vols. 1–28, Berlin: vossische Buchhandlung 1825– 27; vols. 29–32, Berlin and Stettin: Nicolaische Buchhandlung 1828, vol. 28, pp. 327–8 (ASKB 1747–1762). For more detail see Curtis L. Thompson’s article “Gotthold Ephraim Lessing: Appropriating the Testimony of a Theological Naturalist” in vol. 5, tome I of this series. 89 SKS 1, 89 / CI, 28. 84 85

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Welt appears in Kierkegaard’s journal, this time with an exact reference to the cited source.90 However, the highest density of quotations from the Augustinian author in Kierkegaard’s journals is found in the summer of 1847, shortly before Kierkegaard finished Works of Love. At first, Kierkegaard paraphrases Abraham in Danish, but later switches to German and quotes directly from the original. All 10 references and quotations from this period stem from Grammatica Religiosa, and all but one are highlighted in Kierkegaard’s copy of Abraham’s Sämmtliche Werke.91 In several instances they are accompanied by laudatory comments from Kierkegaard. One of the mentioned quotations especially deserves a more detailed analysis, as it reappears—directly and indirectly—in four other instances in Kierkegaard’s corpus. The quotation represents Abraham a Sancta Clara’s version of the ancient Christian legend of the conversion of St. Thais the Harlot through St. paphnutius, which Kierkegaard paraphrases in Danish with the remark: “This is an excellent story; a little pruning would improve it.”92 He indeed rewrites the story when composing the final part of Works of Love and has the edited version ready in a draft form for the “Conclusion” of Works of Love.93 In the end he decides not to include the story directly, but instead he sums up its key message of the impossibility of God’s absence and combines it with another tacit reference to Abraham a Sancta Clara.94 The story of St. Thais’ conversion is quoted again in Kierkegaard’s journal in 1850, as the philosopher recalls his discussion with Martin Hammerich (1811–81) about Christianity that took place during a visit at Jens Finsteen Giødwad’s (1811–91). Kierkegaard mentions the maxim of the Greek philosopher Stilpo that when talking about the gods one should find a place where the gods cannot hear you. To this he adds that there is no such a place, which he exemplifies with “that incomparable story which I have put away some place,” confessing that he has the story from Abraham a Sancta Clara.95 In this instance Kierkegaard relates the story in a new context by coupling it with “what I have said continually, that men have to be taken

SKS 18, 290, JJ:449 / KJN 2, 268. SKS 20, 178, NB2:90 / JP 3, 3787. SKS 20, 178, NB2:91 / JP 5, 6024. SKS 20, 179, NB2:97 / JP 2, 2000. SKS 20, 180, NB2:98 / JP 3, 3741. SKS 20, 180, NB2:99 / JP 5, 6027. SKS 20, 180, NB2:100. The last of the indicated citations is dated August 1847 and includes five different references to Grammatica Religiosa. The only quotation which is not highlighted in Kierkegaard’s copy of Grammatica Religiosa is SKS 20, 178, NB2:90 / JP 3, 3787. 92 SKS 20, 178, NB2:91 / JP 5, 6024. Neither in his journals, nor in his draft for Works of Love does Kierkegaard mention the protagonists of the story by name. The names are, however, included in Abraham a Sancta Clara’s version of the legend. Cf. Abraham a Sancta Clara’s Sämmtliche Werke, vols. 15–16, pp. 54–6. 93 Pap. vIII–2 B 69, 3. Kierkegaard’s version of the legend is not a mere mirror translation of Abraham a Sancta Clara. Kierkegaard’s draft starts with an instructive introduction, the story is re-phrased, it includes direct speech and is even more dramatic than its counterpart in Grammatica Religiosa. 94 SKS 9, 375–6 / WL, 382–3. The other tacit reference concerns Kierkegaard’s use of Abraham a Sancta Clara’s critique of the sin of judging, which is analyzed below. 95 SKS 23, 480–1, NB20:163 / JP 4, 4307. 90 91

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aside, if possible into the confessional, before there is any use in talking to them about Christianity.”96 Kierkegaard comes back to the story one last time in 1851, when in a journal entry he rewrites the ending of the story, strengthening the emphasis on God’s omnipresence.97 On this occasion he refers to his recording of the story in earlier journal entries and mentions the protagonists without indicating their names. Another area, in which Kierkegaard drew vital inspiration from the Augustinian author, is the interpretation of the New Testament imperative of benevolence towards the neighbor qua sinner. Kierkegaard’s concept of like for like, which he expounded at length in Works of Love, concerned in part also the notion of judging, which the gospels of Matthew and Luke present by means of the metaphor of seeing a splinter in the eye of the neighbor and ignoring a log in one’s own eye. Kierkegaard had already reflected on this dialectic in Four Upbuilding Discourses published in 184498 and later marked two considerations pertaining to this theme in Abraham’s Grammatica Religiosa.99 In this work Abraham a Sancta Clara refers to a revelation of Christ to St. Mechtilde,100 according to which the act of judging makes the one who judges guilty of the same sin as that committed by the neighbor.101 Abraham continues with a paraphrase of a sermon by St. Dorotheus, who identifies the sin of the neighbor as the splinter and the judging of it as the log, claiming that judging is a much greater offense than the sin itself.102 Kierkegaard was intrigued by this presentation, marked it in his copy of Grammatica Religiosa and included it in his draft of Works of Love, remarking that such an approach goes beyond the usual like for like.103 when making his philosophical exegesis of the words of the gospel on the evil of judging in Works of Love, Kierkegaard decided to refer directly to Abraham a Sancta Clara’s interpretation of Christ’s admonition.104 In line with Abraham’s emphasis that judging the neighbor is such a grave sin that “its evil supersedes all other sins,”105 the Danish philosopher states that the sin of judging is “high treason” [Majestæts-Forbrydelse].106 In his argumentation Kierkegaard claims that the 96

Ibid. SKS 24, 341, NB24:41. 98 SKS 5, 328 / EUD, 340. 99 Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 29–30. See also the thematically related text highlighted by Kierkegaard in Abraham a St. Clara’s Sämmtliche Werke, vol. 11, p. 31. 100 The knowledge of the Helfta mystics was communicated to Abraham a Sancta Clara to a large extent by Blosius. Cf. Meuer, Forschungen zur Beurteilung Abrahams a S. Clara, p. 60. 101 Abraham a Sancta Clara’s Sämmtliche Werke, vols. 15–16, p. 147. 102 Ibid., p. 148; Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 30. 103 Pap. vIII–2 B 66. See also Pap. vIII–2 B 67–9. 104 SKS 9, 375/ WL, 382: “A pious man has piously interpreted these words as follows: The log in your own eye is neither more nor less than seeing and condemning the splinter in your brother’s eye.” 105 Abraham a Sancta Clara’s Sämmtliche Werke, vols. 15–16, p. 148; Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 30. 106 SKS 9, 375 / WL, 383. Pap. vIII–2 B 68, 5. 97

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judging of the neighbor goes hand in hand with another sin, namely, the lack of consciousness of God’s omnipresence: “At a moment when you really think God is present, it surely would not occur to you to see any splinter in your brother’s eye.”107 This is an indirect reference to the moral of Abraham a Sancta Clara’s story about the conversion of St. Thais, in which the idea of God’s omnipresence is the key to the prostitute’s conversion, and which Kierkegaard originally intended to include in this place, as his draft version of Works of Love proves.108 In this way the philosopher makes a parallel use of two ideas borrowed from Abraham a Sancta Clara, as he combines the critique of mistaken relating to the neighbor through judging with the latent conviction that God is not always present. He sums up his moral point in saying that people “still often forget God’s omnipresence as they relate themselves to other people, forget that God is present in the relationship.”109 It is therefore obvious that the Copenhagen philosopher availed himself of the edifying material found in Abraham a Sancta Clara’s Grammatica Religiosa when articulating his concept of Christian like for like, which he placed in opposition to what he denoted as the Jewish and the worldly like for like. Abraham a Sancta Clara certainly had an impact also on Kierkegaard’s view of the biblical figure of Judas Iscariot, and the seven volumes of Judas der Ertzschelm contained probably the most voluminous presentation of Judas that Kierkegaard ever read.110 However, the apocryphal biography of Judas, which Abraham a Sancta Clara copied to a large extent from Jacob of voragine’s Legenda aurea, met with little understanding on the part of Kierkegaard. It is obvious from Kierkegaard’s reflections that initially he formulated his conception of Judas in opposition to the presentation he found in Abraham a Sancta Clara. In a journal entry from 1848 the Danish philosopher commented critically on Abraham’s one-sided and simplistic view of Judas and argued that Abraham only denigrates Judas without explaining him: “One will get a deep insight into the state of Christianity in each age by seeing how it interprets Judas. Abraham of St. Clara is naïvely convinced that he was the most villainous of all scoundrels, about whom one is to say only every conceivable evil.”111 As a matter of fact, in the seventh volume of Judas der Ertzschelm Kierkegaard marked a passage where Abraham refers to Judas as “the most villainous scoundrel,”112 and Kierkegaard‘s complaint that Judas’ name is linked to “every conceivable evil” is apparently a reference to a number of fictitious crimes and deficiencies attributed to Judas by the medieval tradition present in SKS 9, 375 / WL, 383. Cf. Pap. vIII–2 B 69, 3–4. 109 SKS 9, 375 / WL, 383. 110 Kierkegaard was also familiar with Carl Daub’s presentation of Judas, which he mentions in his journals. Cf. SKS 21, 183, NB8:95 / JP 2, 2229. SKS 23, 63, NB15:91 / JP 4, 4030. See also Carl Daub, Judas Ischariot oder das Böse in Verhältnis zum Guten, Heidelberg: Mohr und winter 1816. 111 SKS 21, 183, NB8:95 / JP 2, 2229. 112 The expression used by Abraham a Sancta Clara is “der ärgste Böswicht.” Cf. Abraham a Sancta Clara’s Sämmtliche Werke, vol. 7, p. 3. Kierkegaard uses the expression “den nederdrægtigste af alle Skurke.” 107 108

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Abraham a Sancta Clara. The issue of an in-depth interpretation of Judas comes up in Kierkegaard’s journal again shortly after his critique of the Augustinian author, whereby the philosopher maintains that “on the whole, Judas must be construed as being far more than a mere scoundrel. when Christ said: I have chosen them myself, he said it of Judas, too. And the whole relationship must be made much more actual, far beyond appearances.”113 In a late journal entry from 1854 Kierkegaard argues that “everything has been set in motion in Christendom to make Judas out to be the blackest of characters,”114 which is yet another allusion to the negativist presentation of Judas in Christian sources that were at Kierkegaard’s disposal. A brief but interesting remark about Abraham a Sancta Clara appears in a journal entry shortly after Kierkegaard finished Works of Love in August 1847. The philosopher mentions Abraham in a rather precarious matter, when pondering on the alleged revelation of Christ to pastor Adolph peter Adler (1812–69).115 The issue Kierkegaard examines in this case is the phenomenon of Christ’s personal messages to individuals and the authority of speaking in Christ’s name. He points out the difference between the consciousness of the age presented in Abraham a Sancta Clara’s books and the absence of such consciousness in modern protestant Denmark. The fact that Kierkegaard drew direct inspiration from Abraham a Sancta Clara when composing his own edifying works is documented also in Christian Discourses, where the Augustinian is quoted in the chapter on “The Care of poverty.” Similarly to the citations in Works of Love, here also Kierkegaard utilizes textual material whose primary author is not Abraham a Sancta Clara. Kierkegaard paraphrases a story about St. Arsenius, which he found in Grammatica Religiosa,116 and uses it to illustrate the paradoxical nature of the Christian concept of poverty.117 The text is quoted without an explicit reference to Abraham a Sancta Clara and the protagonist of the legend is simply referred to as “a pious hermit.” Chronologically the last quotation from Abraham a Sancta Clara appears in Kierkegaard’s journal in 1854 and once again stems from Grammatica Religiosa. The philosopher quotes Abraham from memory in a side comment to a reflection on human righteousness and the notion of sin.118 V. Kierkegaard’s Fulfillment of Abraham’s Intention It is evident from the way Kierkegaard approached Abraham a Sancta Clara’s texts that he did not look in the Augustinian’s works either for systematic theology or for new impulses concerning the literary usage of irony and humor. Although he clearly SKS 21, 185, NB8:99 / JP 3, 3672. SKS 26, 32, NB31:44 / JP 2, 2232. 115 SKS 20, 196, NB2:138 / JP 5, 6044. 116 Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 38. The quotation is found in the Chapter 14 of Grammatica Religiosa, whose title is On Poverty. 117 SKS 10, 29 / CD, 17. 118 SKS 26, 179, NB32:90.a / JP 2, 1538. 113 114

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appreciated Abraham’s ability to convey spiritual messages by means of aphorisms and aphoristic stories, his primary target was the legacy of Christian spirituality, instruction on moral life and reflections on the practice of asceticism contained in the works of the viennese preacher. The fact that Kierkegaard marked and copied from Abraham’s works stories and quotations from a broad variety of Christian authors of all ages suggests that the Danish philosopher approached the Augustinian’s oeuvre as a kind of encyclopedia of Christian wisdom. Kierkegaard later utilized some of the material found in Abraham’s works in his own upbuilding writings, which was in line with Abraham’s intention of composing his edifying works as potential sermon handbooks. Kierkegaard spoke of Abraham a Sancta Clara in several instances with recognition and respect, referring to him as “a pious man”119 and praising his texts and ideas as “excellent,”120 “awakening,”121 “very penetrating,”122 or even “incomparable.”123 On the other hand he did not hesitate to distance himself from elements in Abraham’s works which he deemed trivial or one-sided, as in the case of the depiction of Judas Iscariot. It can be maintained, however, that on the whole, Abraham’s intention to convey to the reader the riches of the spiritual tradition of the church fell in the case of Kierkegaard on fertile ground. He found in Kierkegaard an attentive and interested reader and a fellow spiritual author with whom he shared not only the ideal of addressing the common Christian instead of a narrow intellectual or spiritual elite, but also the circumstance that both wrote their works in the midst of the urban middle class.124 Although Kierkegaard’s interest in Abraham reached its highest point around the time of his completion of Works of Love, the Danish philosopher also returned to Abraham’s ideas sporadically later. It seems, however, that his reading of the Swabian writer after 1848 was limited, as his comments are merely an echo of his earlier reading and reflections. The Copenhagen philosopher, whose main aim when reading Abraham was edification, was able to see beyond the literary and stylistic peculiarities by means of which the Augustinian caught the eye of many of his non-Catholic readers. In the case of Kierkegaard the depiction of imitatio Christi, practice of virtue or ways of martyrdom largely overshadowed Abraham’s talents as a satirist or humorist. From this perspective Kierkegaard was the opposite of the audience which Karl Friedrich Flögel described in his Geschichte des Burlesken, where he explained that Abraham’s preaching was “diligently attended by many not for the sake of edification, but for the sake of laughter.”125 Kierkegaard referred to Abraham a Sancta Clara as “a pious man” twice in Works of Love. Cf. SKS 9, 223 / WL, 220; SKS 9, 375 / WL, 382. In his draft of Works of Love the Danish philosopher referred to Abraham as “an old author.” Cf. Pap. vIII–2 B 69, 3. 120 SKS 20, 178, NB2:91 / JP 5, 6024. SKS 20, 180, NB2:100. 121 Pap. vIII–2 B 69, 3. 122 SKS 20, 179, NB2:97 / JP 2, 2000. 123 SKS 23, 480–1, NB20:163 / JP 4, 4307. 124 when determining Abraham a Sancta Clara’s target audience Franz Eybl speaks of “Abraham’s position as a pastor of the urban middle class.” Cf. Eybl, Abraham a Sancta Clara. Vom Prediger zum Schriftsteller, p. 116. 125 Flögel, Geschichte des Burlesken, p. 241. 119

Bibliography I. Abraham a Sancta Clara’s Works in The Auction Catalogue of Kierkegaard’s Library Abraham a St. Clara’s Sämmtliche Werke, vols. 1–21, vols. 1–2, passau: winkler and vienna: Gerold 1835; vols. 3–6, passau: winkler, vienna: Gerold et al. and Breslau: Max 1835; vols. 7–12, passau: winkler 1836–37; vols. 13–14, passau: pustet 1840–41; vols. 15–21, Lindau: Stettner and Augsburg: Rieger 1841–47 (ASKB 294–311). II. Works in The Auction Catalogue of Kierkegaard’s Library that Discuss Abraham a Sancta Clara Adler, Adolph peter, Theologiske Studier, Copenhagen: Trykt paa Forfatterens Forlag hos Louis Klein i Commission hos universitets-Boghandler C.A. Reitzel 1846, p. 32; p. 82, note (ASKB u 12). Arnim, Ludwig Achim and Clemens Brentano, Des Knaben Wunderhorn. Alte deutsche Lieder, vols. 1–3, 2nd ed., Heidelberg: Mohr und winter 1819, vol. 1, pp. 357–9 (ASKB 1494–1496). Ersch, Johann Samuel and Johann Gottfried Gruber (eds.), Allgemeine Encyclopädie der Wissenschaften und Künste in alphabetischer Folge von genannten Schriftstellern bearbeitet, section 1, vols. 1–29; section 2, vols. 1–14; section 3, vols. 1–9, Leipzig: F.A. Brockhaus 1818–37 [section 1, vols. 1–99; section 2, vols. 1–43; section 3, vols. 1–25, Leipzig: F.A. Brockhaus 1818–89], section 1, vol. 1, p. 160 (ASKB 1311–1363). Flögel, Karl Friedrich, Geschichte der komischen Litteratur, Liegnitz and Leipzig: David Siegert 1784–87, vol. 1, p. 171; vol. 2, pp. 444–6 (ASKB 1396–1399). —— Geschichte des Burlesken, Leipzig: Schwickertscher verlag 1794, pp. 241–5 (ASKB 1400). Jöcher, Christian Gottlieb, Allgemeines Gelehrten-Lexicon, vols. 1–4, Leipzig: Johann Friedrich Gleditschens Buchhandlung 1750–51, vol. 1, p. 31 (ASKB 948–951). [Lessing, Gotthold Ephraim], Gotthold Ephraim Lessing’s sämmtliche Schriften, vols. 1–32, vols. 1–28, Berlin: vossische Buchhandlung 1825–27; vols. 29–32, Berlin and Stettin: Nicolaische Buchhandlung 1828, vol. 6, pp. 124–5; vol. 28, pp. 327–8 (ASKB 1747–1762). Menzel, wolfgang, Die deutsche Literatur, vols. 1–4, 2nd enlarged ed., Stuttgart: Hallberg’sche verlagshandlung 1836, vol. 3, pp. 246–7 (ASKB u 79).

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Moréri, Louis, Le Grand Dictionnaire historique, vols. 1–6, Basel: Jean Brandmuller 1731–32, vol. 1, p. 39 (ASKB 1965-1969). [Richter, Johann paul Friedrich], Jean paul, Vorschule der Aesthetik nebst einigen Vorlesungen in Leipzig über die Parteien der Zeit, vols. 1–3, 2nd revised ed., Stuttgart and Tübingen: J.G. Cotta’sche Buchhandlung 1813, vol. 1, p. 293 (ASKB 1381–1383). —— Jean Paul’s sämmtliche Werke, vols. 1–60, Berlin: G. Reimer 1826–28 [vols. 61–5, Jean Paul’s sämmtliche Werke. Jean Paul’s literarischer Nachlaß, Berlin: G. Reimer 1836–38 and Jean Paul Friedrich Richter. Ein biographischer Commentar zu dessen Werken by Richard Otto Spazier, Neffen des Dichters, Leipzig: wigand 1833], vol. 41, p. 198 (ASKB 1777–1799). III. Secondary Literature on Kierkegaard’s Relation to Abraham a Sancta Clara Capanaga, victorino, “Kierkegaard y el p. Abraham a Santa Clara,” Mayéutica, no. 2, 1976, pp. 61–6. Mikulová Thulstrup, Marie, “præsentation af kristne mystikere i faglitteraturen, Kierkegaard kendte,” Kierkegaardiana, vol. 11, 1980, pp. 55–92. Šajda, peter, “On Some Aspects of Kierkegaard’s Reading of Abraham a Sancta Clara,” in Kierkegaard and Great Philosophers, ed. by Roman Králik et al., Mexico City, Barcelona and Šaľa: Sociedad Iberoamericana de Estudios Kierkegaardianos 2007 (Acta Kierkegaardiana, vol. 2), pp. 80–9.

Johann Arndt: The pietist Impulse in Kierkegaard and Seventeenth-Century Lutheran Devotional Literature Joseph Ballan

Swedish church historian Hilding pleijel, in the course of his study of the reading habits of Swedish Lutherans in the centuries following the Reformation, deems Johann Arndt (1555–1621) to be “the most influential figure in Lutheran Christianity since the days of the Reformation.”1 Arndt did not merit such an evaluation through his work as a preacher or as a public figure. The several pastorates he held, after abandoning plans for a career in medicine to pursue the study of theology at wittenberg, Strasbourg, and Basel, were in mostly small parishes throughout Germany. Although he received his theological training during the years of postReformation debate over the precise delineation of doctrine (e.g., the definition of those points which separated Lutheran from Reformed Christians in the 1577 Formula of Concord), Arndt remained mostly aloof from the so-called Konfessionalisierung, the confessionalizing of Lutheran theology. Instead, he devoted his scholarly energies to producing editions of late medieval mystical writings, including the Theologia Deutsch, The Imitation of Christ and the sermons of Johannes Tauler. More than any other factor, though, Arndt’s influence upon Lutheran Christianity lies in his Sechs Bücher vom wahren Christentum, the most extensively reproduced, translated and disseminated devotional book in protestant Europe. Indeed, during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, this single text was more widely read than the writings of Luther. published in various stages of completion between 1605 and 1610, by the middle of the seventeenth century, the popularity of this book was so great that pastors felt compelled to remind their parishioners not to neglect the study of their Bibles in their enthusiasm for Arndt’s True Christianity.2 That the faithful preferred his book to the Holy Scriptures was not the only reason that Arndt provoked the ire of orthodox clergy. while taking the greatest

Quoted from Johannes wallmann, Theologie und Frömmigkeit im Zeitalter des Barock, Tübingen: J.C.B. Mohr (paul Siebeck) 1995, pp. 4–5. 2 Carter Lindberg, “Introduction,” in The Pietist Theologians, ed. by Carter Lindberg, Malden, Massachusetts: Blackwell 2005, p. 6. 1

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care to remain within the limits of Lutheran Orthodoxy,3 Arndt drew heavily upon late medieval mystics such as Johannes Tauler (ca. 1300–61), Meister Eckhart (ca. 1260–ca. 1328), and Angela de Foligno (ca. 1248–1309), as well as church-critical spiritualists such as valentin weigel (1533–88), Jacob Böhme (1575–1624), and Casper Schwenkfeld von Ossig (1489 or 1490–1561).4 Some Lutheran theologians, troubled by these relics of medieval spirituality, raised pointed questions regarding Arndt’s orthodoxy. Tübingen professor Lukas Osiander II, for instance, declared that Arndt’s devotional book ought to acknowledge its real inspiration and call itself “True Taulerism.”5 Such criticisms were exacerbated by the teaching of “radical Arndtians” such as Joachim Betke, Friedrich Breckling, and Christian Hoburg, who famously claimed that “justification is fiction; rebirth is fact.”6 True to the spirit of weigel’s Dialogue on Christianity, True Christianity had undermined the Lutheran doctrine of forensic or imputed justification, emphasizing instead the importance of a godly life and sanctification. Nowhere, however, does Arndt make a claim as radical as Hoburg’s; he stringently maintains the orthodox Lutheran teaching of salvation by grace through faith. A more orthodox group of Arndt’s interpreters, including Johann Amos Comenius and Johann valentin Andreae, were faithful to the more unambiguously Lutheran elements in Arndt’s writings, ensuring the eventually widespread popularity of and acclaim for his works. Among the Reformation generation influences on Arndt may be counted Martin Bucer, whose last living friend, Johann Sturm, was involved in a bitter debate at Strasbourg Academy with the more conservative Johann Marnach and Johann pappus during the years of Arndt’s studies there.7 Arndt shares with Bucer, who is often referred to as the pietist among the reformers, an emphasis on the priority of godly living over doctrinal matters, an emphasis that has typically earned Arndt the title “father of pietism.”8 Later pietist theologians such as philipp Jakob Spener (1635–1705) and August Hermann Francke (1663–1727) do bear the unmistakable marks of Arndt’s influence, yet Arndt lacks several of the characteristics which define these and other pietist theologians. For example, Arndt does not teach the necessity of supplementing the Sunday morning pericopes with personal Bible study, as do the later Pietists. One does not find the chiliastic “hopes for better times” in his writings. Additionally, nowhere does he emphasize the importance of ecclesiola in ecclesia, the 3 A good biographical example of this is Arndt’s refusal to obey the order of the Calvinist-leaning prince Johann Georg von Anhalt that the practice of exorcism at infant baptism be abolished. This refusal cost Arndt his first pastorate. See Johannes Wallmann, “Johann Arndt,” in The Pietist Theologians, p. 24. 4 Lindberg, “Introduction,” The Pietist Theologians, pp. 4–5; wallmann, “Johann Arndt,” ibid., pp. 31–2; Martin Brecht, “Das Aufkommen der neuen Frömmigkeitsbewegung in Deutschland,” in Geschichte des Pietismus, ed. by Martin Brecht, Göttingen: vandenhoeck & Ruprecht 1993, p. 138. 5 wallmann, “Johann Arndt,” p. 26. 6 Brecht, “Das Aufkommen der neuen Frömmigkeitsbewegung in Deutschland,” pp. 221–6. 7 wallmann, “Johann Arndt,” p. 23. 8 For example, F. Ernest Stoeffler, The Rise of Evangelical Pietism, Leiden: E.J. Brill 1973, p. 202.

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“private assemblies alongside public worship that since Spener became the external distinguishing mark of pietism.”9 Indeed, True Christianity concerns itself primarily with the reform of the individual Christian, not the reform of the church. Arndt thus occupies an interesting position in church history: having negotiated a theological convergence of late medieval mysticism, Reformation-era spiritualism and Lutheran Orthodoxy, he is a transition figure situated between confessional Lutheranism and Pietism. Placing him definitively in any single one of these groups fails to do justice to the distinctiveness of his work. It is difficult to determine whether or not Søren Kierkegaard encountered Arndt’s True Christianity as a child. The zinzendorf-inspired Herrnhut community to which he was exposed in his youth had little in common with Arndt’s particular type of piety.10 Although it did not experience in Denmark the popularity that it enjoyed in Sweden and Germany, Kierkegaard did own a copy of True Christianity at least by the age of 24, when he refers to its illustrations in an early journal entry.11 This was most likely a copy of the text in German, since the Danish edition in the Auction Catalogue was published in 1839. while the 1777 German copy listed in the Auction Catalogue has all six books of Arndt’s completed work, the Danish translation includes only the first four. Most of Kierkegaard’s references come from the first three books, although he does cite the fifth book once. When he mentions True Christianity, he does so with reverence, calling it “an old, time-honored, and trustworthy devotional book”12 and “a rigorous devotional book from an earlier Lutheranism.”13 Although the majority of references to Arndt’s work appear in Kierkegaard’s journals during the years 1848–50, there is a notable earlier citation in the 1844 Four Upbuilding Discourses. Here Kierkegaard seizes upon a striking metaphor Arndt uses for the relationship between God and the Christian soul. In a section illustrating God’s presence in the Christian’s act of bearing his or her cross, Arndt compares God to a hunter who hunts a deer until it is weary, then comforts, consoles and refreshes the animal in order to strengthen it for continuing the chase.14 Kierkegaard notes that Arndt’s devotional book itself plays the hunter in this same way, “by its name to invite people to the composure of upbuilding and then to startle them.”15 This metaphor reveals an important theme of Arndt’s thought, namely that spiritual wallmann, “Johann Arndt,” p. 35. Johannes wallmann has pressed this point of Arndt’s relationship to pietism in several other places, e.g., Der Pietismus, Göttingen: vandenhoeck & Ruprecht 1990, p. 10. 10 For instance, Nikolaus Ludwig von zinzendorf was a major proponent of ecclesiola in ecclesia which, as seen above, had no real place in Arndt’s project. 11 SKS 17, BB:40.a / KJN 1, 127. 12 SKS 5, 333/ EUD, 344. 13 SKS 6, 214 / SLW, 230. 14 Johann Arndt, Sechs Bücher vom wahren Christentum, Bielefeld: Missionsverlag der Evangelisch-Lutherischen Gebetsgemeinschaften 1996 [1610], pp. 566–7 (Book III, Chapter 23, paragraph 14). In those instances when it provides a translation, references will also be given to the heavily abridged English translation: True Christianity, trans. by peter C. Erb, New York: paulist press 1979. 15 SKS 5, 333 / EUD, 344. 9

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growth takes place in the dialectic between struggle and consolation. The passage in True Christianity from which Kierkegaard takes this figure of God as a hunter uses the term die Anfechtung (literally, being fought against; in the Lutheran tradition, the sense that one, as in the biblical story of Jacob, is being wrestled and pinned down by God) several times. For instance, “God gives himself to humans as much through Anfechtungen as through sweetness and goodness.”16 For Luther, the terror of Anfechtung is to be opposed to the security afforded by faith,17 but for both Kierkegaard and Arndt, the struggle with God always precedes God’s benediction. Arndt goes so far as to say that “without...misery God does not appear to man and without the knowledge of such misery man does not find God’s grace.”18 No spiritual consolation is possible without this moment of tension, struggle and even melancholy. This Arndtian theme recurs throughout the Four Upbuilding Discourses of 1844, including “The Thorn in the Flesh” (in which Kierkegaard quotes True Christianity), “To Need God is a Human Being’s Highest perfection”19 and, most especially, “One who prays Aright Struggles in prayer and Is victorious—in That God Is victorious.”20 In the 1846 discourse “purity of heart is to will one thing,” Kierkegaard draws an analogous principle from True Christianity: if God is to dry our tears, as promised in Scripture, how, asks Arndt, can God fulfil this promise if we have not wept in the first place?21 Throughout his book, Arndt repeats this formula: sorrow, struggle, bitterness are the condition for receiving God’s consolation, comfort, and sweetness.22 In Kierkegaard’s articulation of this principle, “the word of comfort must first of all wound more deeply before it can heal.”23 Kierkegaard seems to particularly appreciate Arndt’s use of metaphor, citing an image from True Christianity as illustrating the social critique of the postscript to the unpublished essay, “The Dialectical Relations: the universal, the Single Individual, the Special Individual,” originally intended for inclusion in The Book on Adler.24 He rightly acknowledges, however, that Arndt’s metaphor (of a country being ruled by “the feet” and not “the head”) is not really intended to argue a point similar to that of Kierkegaard’s essay, namely, that the political events of 1848 are simply events or incidents without the dignity of thoughtful action.25 Several references to Arndt may be found in a cluster of journal entries written during this time period (1848), when Kierkegaard was at work on Practice in Christianity and The Sickness unto Death. Among them is an entry where he quotes Arndt’s discussion of death Arndt, Sechs Bücher vom wahren Christentum, p. 568 (III, 23, 20). Daphne Hampson, Christian Contradictions: The Structures of Lutheran and Catholic Thought, New York: Cambridge university press 2001, pp. 31–2. 18 Arndt, Sechs Bücher vom wahren Christentum, 135 (I, 19, 12) (True Christianity, p. 101). 19 SKS 5, 291–316 / EUD, 297–326. 20 SKS 5, 361–81 / EUD, 377–401. 21 SKS 8, 206 / UD, 102. See also SKS 18, JJ:451 / KJN 2, 268. 22 For example, “if Christ and his holy blood are to be our medicine we must first be ill.” Arndt, Sechs Bücher vom wahren Christentum, p. 93 (I,8,5) (True Christianity, p. 55). 23 SKS 5, 320 / EUD, 330. 24 Pap. IX B 24, pp. 321–6 / BA, Supplement, pp. 315–20. 25 SKS 21, 118, NB7:79 / JP 6, 6264. 16 17

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(one of the seven things that move human beings to repentance)26 as an example of the “orthodox” view that the state in which one dies becomes that person’s state for all eternity.27 Though he does not comment upon Arndt’s teaching that “as God finds you [in death], in that state will God judge you,”28 it is interesting to note that Kierkegaard regards Arndt’s theology here as orthodox. Some pages later in NB8, Kierkegaard relates the reported comments of Lorenzo Valla, the fifteenth-century Italian humanist, upon Matthew 5:7 (“Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy”): “either this is not true, or we are not Christians.”29 Kierkegaard does not cite Arndt (or anyone else) as his source for this story, but he does suggest a passage from True Christianity as supporting valla’s point. This seemingly insignificant reference in fact reveals something of Arndt’s importance for Kierkegaard, namely that the former was a religious thinker who accurately perceived the gap between belief and practice in the Christianity of his day. Kierkegaard cites a section of True Christianity that uses the biblical example of David to argue that a holy life consists not only in the hearing and knowledge of God’s word, but in the practice of its teachings.30 One of the characteristics of such a holy life, according to True Christianity, is the practice of continual prayer. Describing the requisite mood for prayer, Kierkegaard notes that one must be in a state of detachment from external things when one prays. The passage from which Kierkegaard quotes to illustrate this point delineates the movement of growth in prayer: that is, the passage from the practice of oral prayer through inner prayer or contemplation to supernatural prayer, an experience described in terms of an ineffable, unspeakably blissful union with God. Arndt appeals to the authority of Tauler for the account of this final stage, which represents one of the clearest examples of the influence of medieval mysticism on True Christianity.31 Kierkegaard makes the inference from this passage that, in correlation to the single-minded fervor of the prayer which is ignorant of worldly things, one must relate oneself to the external world of everydayness with a spirit of distraction and detachment.32 He echoes this sentiment in an 1854 journal entry, citing Arndt as teaching the necessity of being mindful of God and one’s relationship to God at all times and in everything one does. At the same time, he laments the undeniable difficulty of such mindfulness even in times of devotion and prayer.33 Arndt’s work on prayer appears again in another cluster of references to the theologian which may be found in the journals Kierkegaard composed in early 1850. Arndt, Sechs Bücher vom wahren Christentum, p. 282 (II, 8, 10). SKS 21, 148, NB8:16 / JP 2, 1949. Kierkegaard gives the incorrect paragraph number for this quotation: it is to be found in II, 8, 10 rather than II, 8, 2. 28 SKS 21, 152, NB8:9 / JP 3, 2864. 29 Ibid. 30 Arndt, Sechs Bücher vom wahren Christentum, pp. 266–71 (II, 5). In an 1850 journal entry, Kierkegaard offers a brief comment upon the story of David’s self-denial in 2 Sam. 23:15 and notes that Arndt also mentions the story in True Christianity. SKS 23, 176, NB17:18 / JP 2, 1404. 31 Arndt, Sechs Bücher vom wahren Christentum, pp. 327–8 (II, 20, 2–5). 32 SKS 21, 168, NB8:51 / JP 3, 3431. 33 SKS 25, 270, NB28:66 / JP 3, 3463. 26 27

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In what Kierkegaard deems a “beautiful, childlike remark,” Arndt asserts that God knows what we need and desire, but that, like a human parent, “God has so ordered it that he pretends he does not know if you do not yourself say it to him in prayer.”34 Kierkegaard identifies this comment as belonging to the section of True Christianity where Arndt borrows copiously from spiritualist Lutheran pastor valentin weigel’s Gebetbüchlein.35 Another metaphor portraying God as a parent elicits Kierkegaard’s admiration: in his only reference to the fifth book of True Christianity, Kierkegaard notes a passage where Arndt likens God to a mother who sleeps lightly with a child who is sick or suckling and whose “hungry soul immediately awakens” God.36 Arndt’s use of this image in his devotional book amounts to a “masterpiece of pathos” in Kierkegaard’s estimation.37 He seems to regard Arndt as giving poetic expression to the state of “childlikeness the second time,” of becoming like a child before God, which Kierkegaard considers to be “the highest” expression of faith.38 In her work relating Kierkegaard to pietism (broadly construed), Marie Mikulová Thulstrup suggests that under Arndt’s influence, Kierkegaard “changed his opinion regarding the contemplation of Christ’s wounds by the faithful, which he began by condemning.”39 Her support for this claim is another journal entry from 1850, where Kierkegaard states that we have no real conception of what sin is in God’s eyes. Speaking of Christ’s suffering and death, Arndt (as well as the other old devotional books) says that we ought to contemplate them in order to get a conception of what sin means to God. I trifle with it and have no real pathos-filled idea of how revolting sin is in the eyes of God—this I must see in Christ’s sufferings for sin.40

whether this marks a veritable “change of opinion” is questionable, especially given another, later journal entry from 1850, where he criticizes the united Brethren for encouraging “all this staring at Christ’s suffering” rather than the necessity of serious discipleship.41 Kierkegaard never defends the contemplation of the suffering Christ as an end in itself. Such a practice often amounts to little more than shallow emotionalism. For Arndt, as well as for Kierkegaard, the contemplation of the person of Christ must have as its goal the strengthening of one’s commitment to discipleship. In True Christianity, Kierkegaard finds not only a proper emphasis on the place of discipleship in the Christian life, but also a warning against the arrogance that easily befalls those who consciously commit themselves to lives of self-denial.42 Herein SKS 23, 112, NB16:28 / JP 3, 3446. Arndt, Sechs Bücher vom wahren Christentum, pp. 373–90 (II, 34). 36 Ibid., p. 705 (v, 5, 7). 37 SKS 23, 274–5, NB18:39 / JP 4, 4926. 38 SKS 21, NB8:12 / JP 1, 235. 39 Marie Mikulová Thulstrup, “pietism,” in Kierkegaard and Great Traditions, ed. by Niels Thulstrup and Marie Mikulová Thulstrup, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1981 (Bibliotheca Kierkegaardiana, vol. 6), p. 185. 40 SKS 23, 48, NB15:70 / JP 4, 4026. 41 SKS 23, 438, NB20:78 / JP 2, 1874. 42 SKS 25, 164–5, NB27:52 / JP 3, 3771. 34 35

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lies the Lutheran corrective to the Catholic theme of imitatio Christi in Arndt (and, following him, Kierkegaard): the imitation of Christ, while an ideal toward which the Christian is enjoined to strive, should be neither a cause for pride in one’s own goodness nor the expected guarantee of one’s salvation. Perhaps the most significant characteristic of Johann Arndt’s work for Kierkegaard is its elevation of the problem of how the Christian conducts his or her life over questions of doctrine.43 while not completely rejecting the importance of the kind of theological debates that characterized the Lutheranism of his day,44 Arndt was concerned that theology had become “mere science, or rhetoric, whereas it is [i.e., ought to be] a living experience and practice.”45 Likewise, for Kierkegaard, “ ‘the doctrine’...has abolished Christianity,”46 and for Johannes Climacus, “Christianity is not a doctrine, but it expresses an existence-relation.”47 when Arndt and Kierkegaard dispute the academic theology of their respective times and this theology’s preoccupation with correct doctrine, they both refer to the traditional Lutheran doctrine of justification by faith alone through grace alone. Arndt perceived the dangers of proclaiming this doctrine without also teaching the necessity of repentance and self-denial. Such dangers had, in Kierkegaard’s analysis, become reality in nineteenth-century Denmark. If all Christians are justified by faith alone, there is no need to live righteously. One must simply give one’s intellectual assent to the Lutheran doctrine. This amounts to a cheapening of grace, diminishing the strenuousness of Christianity’s teaching. In the words of Anti-Climacus’ Practice in Christianity, when the crucifixion of Christ becomes ossified as “the doctrine of the Atonement,” it amounts to “an enervation of the thrust of the collision of offense,”48 and, by extension, of the difficulty of becoming a Christian. While Kierkegaard maintains the importance of Luther’s discovery as a corrective to the faults and excesses of medieval Christianity, he contends that the application of this corrective has created faults and excesses of its own. Like Arndt, Kierkegaard never denies that a person is only justified by the grace of God and not by righteous works.49 The effect of this doctrine, however, has been to mitigate the call to the imitation of Christ. While not disputing the truth of the Lutheran teaching on justification, Arndt and Kierkegaard claim that the historical applications of this doctrine have had disastrous consequences. On the reading of Lutheran church history that Kierkegaard gives in For SelfExamination, the generations following Luther saw the emergence of a “secular mentality” which, desiring a means “to become Christian as cheaply as possible,” seized his insight and perverted the notion of faith so that it meant “we are free from all works,” exempted from the requirement of expressing faith with a godly life by Pap. X–6 C 189. See Arndt, Sechs Bücher vom wahren Christentum, p. 217 (I, 39, 1–2) (True Christianity, p. 173). 45 Ibid., p. 64 (foreword to first book) (True Christianity, p. 21). 46 SV1 XII, 409 / JFY, 131. 47 SKS 7, 346 / CUP1, 379–80. 48 SKS 12, 115 / PC, 106. 49 See SV1 XII, 461 / JFY, 193; Arndt, Sechs Bücher vom wahren Christentum, p. 66 (foreword) (True Christianity, p. 24). 43 44

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the doctrine of justification.50 In response to what he perceives as the cheapening of grace and the corruption of Christianity, Kierkegaard follows Arndt in stressing the centrality of discipleship and the imitation of Christ in the lives of individual Christians. In an 1850 journal entry close to the abovementioned reference to David’s self-denial, Kierkegaard declares that many of his contemporaries who fancy themselves Christians “are coddled, are spoiled by having and getting Christianity on conditions all too cheap.”51 The Christianity which Arndt advocates in True Christianity is, by contrast, a Christianity which accords the difficult work of imitating Christ a central place and which insists upon a dialectical relationship between sorrow and strife, on the one hand, and divine consolation, on the other. “The fruit of the death of Christ in us is” not that Christians may conduct their lives in any way they please, but rather “that we die to our sins through repentance.”52 In turning away from sin, Christians are to turn toward the paradigm of the godly life as lived by Jesus.53 One must, moreover, refrain from holding the life of Christ at a distance: Anti-Climacus expresses this in his critique of admiration, that is, of that attitude of detachment toward Christ which avoids the existential commitment and self-denial of imitation.54 This critique echoes Arndt’s teaching that one cannot love Christ without pledging oneself to follow the example of his life.55 These similarities between the ways in which Kierkegaard and Arndt situate their respective projects vis-à-vis Lutheran Orthodoxy raise the question of Kierkegaard’s relationship to pietist theology more generally. If one adopts a “strict constructionist” approach to Pietism, as does Pietism scholar Johannes Wallmann, it becomes difficult to consider Arndt the father of pietism. As noted above, his work undeniably gave impetus to that of Spener and Francke, but he differs from these later theologians on a number of important points. For wallmann, “one is able to designate Arndt a pietist theologian in the broader sense of the concept, but not the father of pietism.”56 One does not find in Arndt, for example, the appeal to abstain from secular activities like dancing that Francke and the Halle pietists make (or, it must be added, the social activism and educational reform that characterize Halle pietism). when Kierkegaard declares pietism to be “the one and only consequence of Christianity,”57 he qualifies this statement by saying that Pietism must not be understood as “petty and pusillanimous renunciation in things that do not matter,”58 but as a strategy of resistance to the established order through witnessing to the truth. Legalistic pietism quickly degenerates into a pharisaic show of “empty outwardness,”59 while true 50 51 52

p. 43).

SV1 XII, 307 / FSE, 16. SKS 23, 177, NB17:20 / JP 1, 393. Arndt, Sechs Bücher vom wahren Christentum, p. 82 (I, 4, 7) (True Christianity,

SKS 12, 115 / PC, 107. SKS 12, 235–44 / PC, 242–52. 55 E.g., Arndt, Sechs Bücher vom wahren Christentum, p. 65 (foreword) (True Christianity, p. 22). 56 wallmann, “Johann Arndt,” pp. 35–6. 57 SKS 23, 486, NB20:175 / JP 3, 3318. 58 SKS 24, 69, NB21:114 / JP 3, 3319. 59 SKS 12, 95 / PC, 86. 53 54

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pietism, that is, devout and pious inwardness, effects a “collision...with the established order,”60 irreducible to participation or non-participation in secular activities. while Arndt is more concerned with contesting those who were transforming theology into lifeless knowledge than he was with disputing legalism, he nevertheless echoes the church-critical spiritualist distrust of externals: “Our worship in the New Testament is no longer external...but is external in spirit and in truth.”61 If Kierkegaard does not use wallmann’s “strict constructionist” historical approach in his definition of Pietism, he nevertheless holds that what might be called the pietist impulse is one that Christian theology would do well to retain. As Marie Mikulová Thulstrup has it, it is pietism construed “as an existentially lived Christianity [that] affected SK’s view of Christianity.”62 Of this kind of Christianity, Arndt is, for Kierkegaard, a most eloquent spokesman. That, according to Arndt, faith is made possible only by the experience of spiritual anxiety, that true worship is inward piety, that Christianity is realized in a life of repentance and rigorous imitation of the life of Christ, and that the necessity of a holy life takes precedence over the necessity of correct doctrine was recognized by Kierkegaard, who often gave his approval to and voiced his admiration for such teachings. Indeed, Kierkegaard is, perhaps, closer to Arndt than to any other German Lutheran theologian he encountered.

60 61

p. 110).

SKS 12, 101 / PC, 93. Arndt, Sechs Bücher vom wahren Christentum, p. 143 (I, 21, 4) (True Christianity,

Marie Mikulová Thulstrup, “Studies of pietists, Mystics and Church Fathers,” in Kierkegaard’s View of Christianity, ed. by Niels Thulstrup and Marie Mikulová Thulstrup, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1978 (Bibliotheca Kierkegaardiana, vol. 1), p. 65. 62

Bibliography I. Johann Arndt’s Works in The Auction Catalogue of Kierkegaard’s Library Sämtliche geistreiche Bücher vom wahren Christenthum, new ed., Tübingen: [no publisher or year listed, presumably Berger 1737] (ASKB 276). Fire Bøger om den sande Christendom, new translation, Christiania: Chr. Grøndahls Forlag 1829 (ASKB 277). II. Works in The Auction Catalogue of Kierkegaard’s Library that Discuss Johann Arndt [Becker, Karl Friedrich], Karl Friedrich Beckers Verdenshistorie, omarbeidet af Johan Gottfried Woltmann, vols. 1–12, trans. by J. Riise, Copenhagen: Fr. Brummer 1822–29, vol. 9, p. 302 (ASKB 1972–1983). Erdmann, Johann Eduard, Vorlesungen über Glauben und Wissen als Einleitung in die Dogmatik und Religionsphilosophie, Berlin: Duncker und Humblot 1837, p. 114 (ASKB 479). Hase, Karl, Kirkehistorie. Lærebog nærmest for akademiske Forelæsninger, trans. by C. winther and T. Schorn, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1837, p. 485 (ASKB 160–166). III. Secondary Literature on Kierkegaard’s Relation to Johann Arndt Gouwens, David J., Kierkegaard as Religious Thinker, New York: Cambridge university press 1996, p. 49. pattison, George, Kierkegaard’s Upbuilding Discourses: Philosophy, Literature, Theology, New York: Routledge 2002, p. 58. Thulstrup, Marie Mikulová, Søren Kierkegaard og Johann Arndt,” Kierkegaardiana, vol. 4, 1962, pp. 7–17. —— “pietism,” in Kierkegaard and Great Traditions, ed. by Niels Thulstrup and Marie Mikulová Thulstrup, Copengagen: C.A. Reitzel 1981 (Bibliotheca Kierkegaardiana, vol. 6), pp. 173–222. —— “Studies of pietists, Mystics, and Church Fathers,” in Kierkegaard’s View of Christianity, ed. by Niels Thulstrup and Marie Mikulová Thulstrup, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1978 (Bibliotheca Kierkegaardiana, vol. 1), pp. 61–5. Tolstrup, Christian Fink, “ ‘playing a profane Game with Holy Things’: understanding Kierkegaard’s Critical Encounter with Bishop Mynster,” in Practice in Christianity, ed. by Robert L. perkins, Macon, Georgia: Macon university press 2004 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 20), p. 250.

Ludovicus Blosius: A Frightful Satire on Christendom peter Šajda

Kierkegaard’s encounter with the Benedictine spiritual author Ludovicus Blosius enhanced further the philosopher’s respect for the old edifying literature which he valued regardless of its denominational profile. Blosius constituted for Kierkegaard an obvious anti-pole to modern theologians and pastors, as the kerygma he preached had a definite existential dimension. Kierkegaard was amazed by Blosius as a spiritual guide, pointing out his conscientious approach to cura animarum. He owned the oldest edition of Blosius’ Opera omnia, and his excerpts stem from those works of Blosius that largely draw on the legacy of the medieval mystics. Although Blosius’ presence in Kierkegaard’s writings is sporadic, he can be considered part of a broader tradition that certainly had an effect on Kierkegaard’s understanding of authentic Christianity. I. Ludovicus Blosius’ Life and Work Louis de Blois (1506–66), also known under the Latinized form of his name as Ludovicus Blosius, was born at the beginning of October 1506 at the Château de Donstienne near Beaumont in today’s Belgium. Although his family was partly of French origin, “Blosius belongs wholly to the Netherlands, by his formation, as well as by his tendencies.”1 Both of Blosius’ parents were of noble descent which enabled him to be sent at a young age as a page to the court of the later Emperor Charles v, with whom he entertained an active relation throughout his life. At the age of 14 Louis entered the Benedictine abbey of Liessies in Hainaut, situated in the turbulent border territory of the Habsburg Netherlands with France. After the novitiate he was sent to study first at Ghent and later at the flourishing university of Leuven, where he made acquaintance with several renowned theologians and humanists of his time.2 After being named abbot coadjutor at an unusually young age in 1527, Blosius became the abbot of Liessies in 1530 upon the death of his predecessor Gilles Gippus. Louis Cognet, De la dévotion moderne à la spiritualité française, paris: Librairie Arthème Fayard 1962, p. 16. During his tenure as abbot Blosius was active both in the ecclesiastical and political life of the Netherlands. 2 Joseph peter, L’abbaye de Liessies en Hainaut depuis ses origines jusqu’après la réforme de Louis de Blois, Lille: René Giard 1912, pp. 288–9. 1

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Following his appointment—loyal to the Benedictine principle of stabilitas loci—Blosius spent most of his time in Liessies attempting both a spiritual renewal of his community and the improvement of the monastery’s difficult economic situation. Due to its geographic position the abbey of Liessies was severely affected by the military conflicts between France and Emperor Charles V, which often left the border area in ruins. The abbey was subject to constant demands of financial support on the part of the Emperor, and its development was hampered by repeated reconstruction of damaged property and poor economic performance. The material insecurity of the abbey went hand in hand with irregularities in religious observance, relaxed monastic discipline and the spread of vita privata among the monks. Blosius attempted to counteract these negative tendencies by introducing reforms, whose main pillars were communitarianism,3 observance of basal monastic practices such as enclosure or silentium,4 as well as a regular work schedule. The reforms met with resolute opposition on the part of the monks, which ultimately resulted in a division of the community, as Blosius with a small number of observant brothers was residing at Ath while the rest of the revolting community stayed at Liessies. From these uneasy times stems Blosius’ first work Speculum monachorum, which he wrote under the symbolic pseudonym of Dacryanus—“the crying one.”5 After the re-unification of the community and the success of the reformist tendencies, Blosius continued to compose texts designed at first primarily for internal use at the monastery. Soon, however, his edifying writings were printed in Leuven, Antwerp, Cologne and Brussels and especially after 1549 the tempo of new editions of his works accelerated significantly.6 Apart from Latin, Blosius’ literary production was also published very early in Flemish, French, Italian, and German, gradually reaching an ever wider audience. Following the more formal Statuta monastica—a work that was linked to the reformation of the abbey—Blosius published a broad variety of works focusing on practical spiritual advice for the common believer, outlining central Christological themes,7 offering guidance on prayer and self-perfection, presenting basic doctrines of theologia mystica and providing the reader with anthologies of texts from older Christian authors.8

Ibid., pp. 296–8. Ibid., pp. 298–301. 5 Cf. Henri Lambert vos, Louis de Blois, abbé de Liessies (1506–1566). Recherches bibliographiques sur son oeuvre, Turnhout: Brepols 1992, pp. 32–3. 6 Ibid., pp. 53–4. 7 Cf. Louis Cognet, Introduction aux mystiques rhéno-flamands, paris: Desclée 1968, pp. 338–9. 8 Louis Cognet employs the term “anthologies” when speaking of Blosius’ mode of presenting the instructive texts of other spiritual authors. Cf. Cognet, De la dévotion moderne à la spiritualité française, p. 16. This is no doubt an appropriate designation in many instances. It must be noted, however, that Blosius at times utilized the teachings of more recent authors without explicitly referring to them. 3 4

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Both of Blosius’ most printed works—Consolatio Pusillanimium and Institutio Spiritualis9—show a strong inspiration by medieval mystical and ascetical authors: by the Dominican Rhineland mystics,10 the Flemish mystic Jan van Ruysbroeck (1293–1381) or the Carthusian writer Johannes Justus of Landsberg (ca. 1489–1539). The most intensively quoted mystical writer is undoubtedly Johannes Tauler (1300– 61), whom Blosius courageously defended against the Ingolstadt theologian Johann Eck (1486–1543) in his Apologia pro Domino Ioanne Thaulero,11 which usually served as an appendix to Institutio Spiritualis together with a work that was largely a paraphrase of Taulerian spirituality entitled Appendix desumpta ex libris D. Ioannis Thauleri, atque aliorum patrum.12 Blosius’ efforts at popularizing the spiritual legacy of the medieval mystics received an important impetus through his co-operation with the Cologne Carthusians, who were both translators, publishers and producers of mystical literature.13 The abbot of Liessies was instrumental in the establishing of the first Jesuit fundatio in Leuven with the aim of setting a barrier to the spreading Reformation and took part in the literary theological polemics against the protestants. Curiously enough, his two apologetic treatises exerted minimal influence and ranked among the least printed of his works.14 Although Blosius’ oeuvre is characterized by a relatively high degree of ecclecticism and its originality lags behind such authors as Meister Eckhart, John of the Cross or Teresa of Avila,15 it proved to be a valuable reservoir of spirituality for the “common monk” and the “common believer”: in the two and a half centuries following Blosius’ death his works were printed in different editions throughout Europe almost annually.16

Between 1538 and 1796 Consolatio Pusillanimium saw seventy-nine editions and Institutio Spiritualis fourty-seven editions. Cf. vos, Louis de Blois, abbé de Liessies (1506– 1566). Recherches bibliographiques sur son oeuvre, p. 61. 10 Blosius explicitly quotes Johannes Tauler and Heinrich Seuse (Suso); some of the doctrine and terminology in Institutio Spiritualis, however, dates back to Meister Eckhart. 11 Blosius explicitly refers to Johann Eck’s polemics against Martin Luther in De Purgatorio contra Ludderum, where Tauler is depicted as “a dreamer” (somniator). Blosius argues against Eck that what Tauler taught was “sound and truly divine” doctrine. Cf. [Ludovicus Blosius], Ludovici Blosii variæ eruditionis eximiæque pietatis nomine celeberrimi abbatis lætiensis opera omnia, Leuven: Ioannes Bogardus 1568, p. 452 (ASKB 429). 12 Ibid., pp. 435–43. 13 Cf. Cognet, De la dévotion moderne a la spiritualité française, pp. 14–17; vos, Louis de Blois, abbé de Liessies (1506–1566). Recherches bibliographiques sur son oeuvre, pp. 100–4. 14 Ibid., p. 61. This fate concerned the polemical works Collyrium Haereticorum and Facula Illuminandis. 15 Ibid., p. 37. 16 Ibid., p. 149. 9

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The abbey of Liessies experienced during Blosius’ tenure significant consolidation, even prosperity, and subsequently became a respected spiritual and intellectual center, serving as inspiration for reformist movements in other Benedictine abbeys.17 II. Grammatica Religiosa: Kierkegaard’s Encounter with Blosius through Abraham a Sancta Clara Kierkegaard may have been made familiar with basic information on Blosius through some of the encyclopaedic works that he owned, such as those of Louis Moréri or Christian Gottlieb Jöcher. Although their accounts of Blosius are very brief and fragmentary, Jöcher’s presentation interestingly characterizes Blosius as an author of theologia mystica.18 The most important secondary medium through which Kierkegaard encountered Blosius was presumably the Sämmtliche Werke of the viennese imperial preacher Abraham a Sancta Clara. Kierkegaard read Abraham’s corpus most intensively in the years 1847–4819 and marked in his copy of Abraham’s Sämmtliche Werke 63 passages.20 In the summer of 1847 he recorded in his journal 10 references and quotations from Abraham’s work Grammatica Religiosa, whose first two volumes contain 35 textual units highlighted by Kierkegaard. Some of the highlighted texts Kierkegaard later used in his own religious production—in Works of Love and Christian Discourses.21 Two passages highlighted by Kierkegaard in Grammatica Religiosa stem from a longer excerpt from Blosius’ Consolatio Pusillanimium quoted by Abraham.22 Abraham a Sancta Clara refers to Blosius in a number of instances throughout his oeuvre, but especially in Grammatica Religiosa—which exerted a very tangible influence on Kierkegaard—his presence is substantial.23 Abraham quotes explicitly

philibert Schmitz, Geschichte des Benediktinerordens, vols. 1–4, Einsiedeln-zürich: verlagsanstalt Benzinger 1947–60, vol. 3, p. 214; Stephanus Hilpisch, Geschichte des Benediktinischen Mönchtums, Freiburg im Breisgau: Herder 1929, p. 321. 18 Christian Gottlieb Jöcher, Allgemeines Gelehrten-Lexicon, vols. 1–4, Leipzig: Johann Friedrich Gleditschens Buchhandlung 1750–51, vol. 1, p. 1134 (ASKB 948–951). 19 Abraham a St. Clara’s Sämmtliche Werke, vols. 1–21, vols. 1–2, passau: winkler and vienna: Gerold 1835; vols. 3–6, passau: winkler, vienna: Gerold et al. and Breslau: Max 1835; vols. 7–12, passau: winkler 1836–37; vols. 13–14, passau: pustet 1840–41; vols. 15– 21, Lindau: Stettner and Augsburg: Rieger 1841–47 (ASKB 294–311). 20 The text of 61 passages highlighted by Kierkegaard in Abraham a Sancta Clara’s Sämmtliche Werke can be found in Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 1–61. There are two further passages highlighted by Kierkegaard in Abraham a St. Clara’s Sämmtliche Werke, vol. 11, p. 30; p. 31 (ASKB 294–311). 21 SKS 9, 223 / WL, 220. SKS 9, 375 / WL, 382. SKS 10, 29 / CD, 17. 22 Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 49–50. Cf. Abraham a St. Clara’s Sämmtliche Werke, vols. 15–16, p. 497; p. 499. 23 Although the first two volumes of Grammatica Religiosa (Abraham a St. Clara’s Sämmtliche Werke, vols. 15–16) contain several passages marked by Kierkegaard, there is no evidence that Kierkegaard ever read the remaining two volumes of the same work 17

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Blosius’ Consolatio Pusillanimium,24 Institutio Spiritualis,25 Conclave Animae Fidelis,26 Margaritum Spirituale,27 Brevis Regula Tyronis Spiritualis,28 Monile Spirituale29 and Instructio Vitae Asceticae.30 Apart from the explicit quotations and references, Grammatica Religiosa contains abundant references to the mystical experiences of Saint Mechtilde (1240/1241–98), Gertrude the Great (1256–1302), Birgitta of Sweden (1303–73) and Catherine of Siena (1347–80),31 which Abraham excerpted largely from Blosius’ Monile Spirituale.32 Kierkegaard certainly encountered Blosius also in Abraham a Sancta Clara’s Mercurialis oder Winter-Grün, where a quotation from Blosius immediately precedes a quotation from Bernard of Clairvaux which Kierkegaard highlighed and copied to his journal.33 Although Abraham generally does not quote Blosius as often as the traditional church authorities, such as Augustine, John Chrysostom or Bernard of Clairvaux, he always treats the Benedictine author as a reliable source of spiritual wisdom. Kierkegaard read Abraham a Sancta Clara especially diligently in the summer of 1847 and excerpted two short quotations from Blosius’ original works at the end of the same year. It is conceivable that it was the frequent mentions of Blosius in Grammatica Religiosa that drew his attention to Blosius and prompted him to switch from a secondary source to a primary source which he either already possessed in his library or bought for that purpose.

(Abraham a St. Clara’s Sämmtliche Werke, vols. 17–18). According to The Auction Catalogue Kierkegaard owned all 21 volumes of Abraham a Sancta Clara’s Sämmtliche Werke. 24 Abraham a St. Clara’s Sämmtliche Werke, vols. 15–16, p. 42; p. 59; pp. 497–9; pp. 514–15; pp. 578–9. Some of the explicit mentions of Blosius in Grammatica Religiosa do not refer to a concrete work. Cf. Ibid., vols. 15–16, pp. 414–5; pp. 541–2; vols. 17–18; pp. 179–81. 25 Ibid., vols. 15–16, p. 400; p. 480; p. 573; vols. 17–18, p. 8. 26 Ibid., vols. 15–16, p. 38; p. 525. 27 Ibid., vols. 15–16, pp. 524–5. 28 Ibid., vols. 15–16, p. 401. 29 Ibid., vols. 15–16, pp. 31–2; p. 42; pp. 442–3; pp. 566–7; vols. 17–18, pp. 238–9; p. 463. 30 Ibid., vols. 17–18, p. 392; pp. 403–4. 31 Ibid., vols. 15–16, p. 44; pp. 50–1; p. 147; p. 163; p. 194; pp. 198–9; p. 270; p. 322; pp. 342–3; p. 351; pp. 394–5; p. 407; pp. 410–11; 416; p. 458; p. 467; p. 476; p. 484; p. 495; pp. 499–500; p. 535; p. 575–6; vols. 17–18, pp. 48–9; p. 167; pp. 238–9; pp. 281–3; pp. 295–6; p. 315; p. 392; pp. 405–6; p. 409; p. 463; pp. 469–70; pp. 473–4; 507–10. 32 Blosius’ Monile Spirituale is composed of mystical experiences of the four abovementioned women mystics, whose short biographies are included at the end of the work. Cf. [Blosius], Ludovici Blosii variæ eruditionis eximiæque pietatis nomine celeberrimi abbatis lætiensis opera omnia, pp. 75–112. 33 Abraham a St. Clara’s Sämmtliche Werke, vol. 12, p. 43. Cf. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 16. SKS 18, 281, JJ:424.

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III. The Issue of an Authentic Spiritual Guide: Blosius in Kierkegaard Søren Kierkegaard owned the very first edition of Blosius’ Opera omnia edited by Blosius’ confrere and disciple Jacques Froye (d. 1586) that was published in Latin two years after Blosius’ death.34 As noted above, Kierkegaard’s reading of Blosius was preceded by his reading of Abraham a Sancta Clara, through whom he encountered Blosius at the latest in 1846.35 He marked in Abraham’s Grammatica Religiosa two quotations from Blosius’ Consolatio Pusillanimium, both of which stem from an excerpt that treats the importance of trust and peace of mind in the times of temptation.36 The original author of the text is, however, probably not Blosius himself, as the passage is found in a chapter of Consolatio Pusillanimium which Blosius composed as a set of excerpts primarily from the Carthusian spiritual writer Johannes Justus of Landsberg.37 In late 1847 Kierkegaard copied in his journal two short Latin quotations from Blosius’ Igniariolum Divini Amoris38 and Institutio Spiritualis. The quotation from the former is a two-line verse about the passionate love of Christ from one of the six brief devotional texts that Blosius recommends for meditation (ruminatio) to a soul that attempts a closer adhesion to God.39 This text, which Blosius presents without mentioning the source, is for the most part an extract from the popular pseudoBernardian hymn known as Jubilus Rhythmicus de Nomine Jesu.40 The quotation from Institutio Spiritualis, which Kierkegaard excerpted in December 1847, does not originate from Blosius himself either. Blosius attributes it

Jacques Froye (Iacobus Froius) was a monk of Liessies who was also responsible for some of the early translations of Blosius’ works. His edition of Blosius’ Opera omnia reappeared in 1571, 1572, 1589, 1605, 1606, 1615, 1618, and 1625. Later it was largely surpassed by a reviewed and corrected edition of Opera omnia published in 1632 in Antwerp by Balthazar Moretus. Cf. vos, Louis de Blois, abbé de Liessies (1506–1566). Recherches bibliographiques sur son oeuvre, p. 60 ; pp. 67–8 ; pp. 262–3. 35 In 1846 Kierkegaard noted in his journal a quotation by Bernard of Clairvaux, which stems from Abraham a Sancta Clara’s Mercurialis oder Winter-Grün, where it follows right after a quotation from Blosius. Cf. SKS 18, 281, JJ:424. Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 16; Abraham a St. Clara’s Sämmtliche Werke, vol. 12, p. 43. 36 Pap. vIII–2 C 2, 49–50. 37 In Kierkegaard’s edition of Blosius’ Opera omnia, this passage is part of the the chapter entitled Interna allocvtio, qva Iesvs Christus consolatur animam peccatricem melius viuere cupientem, ex scriptis Ioannis Lanspergij Carthusiani, & aliorum decerpta (pp. 384–90). 38 This short literary piece forms a part of the compound work entitled Margaritum Spirituale. 39 SKS 20, 262, NB3:35 / JP 3, 2413. 40 Cf. “Jubilus Rhythmicus de Nomine Jesu,” in Patrologia Latina, ed. by Jacques paul Migne, paris: Migne 1844–55, vols. 1–217, vol. 184, pp. 1317–20. In Kierkegaard’s edition of Blosius this hymn is found in two places: it is part of Igniariolum Divini Amoris and it appears as Hymnvs VII in Ivbilvm amantis animae, in octo hymnos rhytmicos divisvm. Cf. [Blosius], Ludovici Blosii variæ eruditionis eximiæque pietatis nomine celeberrimi abbatis lætiensis opera omnia, pp. 40, 613. 34

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to “a certain friend of God” who offers “the truest rule for all perfection.”41 The core of the rule is the famous maxim from Meister Eckhart’s Die rede der underscheidunge which sums up the essence of self-detachment.42 In 1848 Kierkegaard again copied to his journal a short Latin quotation from Blosius, this time from Consolatio Pusillanimium.43 It is taken from a passage which Blosius put together from references to biblical stories illustrating intensive emotions combined with confidence in Christ. Consolatio Pusillanimium must have left quite a strong impression on Kierkegaard, as he came back to it in January 1849 when contrasting Blosius to the clergy of his time: “It would be a frightful satire on Christendom if one published a work like Blosius’ Consolatium Pusillanimium, in order to show what a pastor as spiritual adviser [Sjelesørger] found necessary to say in former days...Nowadays there are no longer pastors as spiritual advisers but only as mere spectators [lutter Betragtere].”44 The Danish term Sjelesørger, which Kierkegaard uses in this context, appears in his writings relatively rarely and in several instances suggests a connection with Blosius, although the Benedictine author is not mentioned by name.45 Almost immediately before Kierkegaard’s quotation from Blosius’ Igniariolum Divini Amoris in 1847 Kierkegaard draws a harsh comparison between “those old theological works” of “an authentic spiritual guide [Sjælesørger]” and contemporary academic theologians and preachers: Have a summa cum laude in theology, on top of that be the smartest of all the summa cum laude’s, stand at the cultural peak of the times—and then at some time read one of those old theological works by an authentic spiritual guide—and learn to be nauseated

[Blosius], Ludovici Blosii variæ eruditionis eximiæque pietatis nomine celeberrimi abbatis lætiensis opera omnia, p. 407. 42 Kierkegaard’s excerpt reads as follows: “Totius perfectionis verissima regula hæc est: esto humilis, et ubicunque te ipsum inveneris, te ipsum relinque,” whereby it differs slightly from Blosius’ orthography. Cf. SKS 20, 269, NB3:47 / JP 5, 6084. The original Middle High German text by Meister Eckhart reads as follows: “Nim dîn selbes war, und swâ dû dich vindest, dâ lâz dich; daz ist daz aller beste.” Cf. Meister Eckhart, “Die rede der underscheidunge,” in Meister Eckhart. Die deutschen und lateinischen Werke, Stuttgart: Kohlhammer 1936ff., Die deutschen Werke, vol. 5, p. 196. The Latin translation of Eckhart’s formula in Blosius observes Eckhart’s own usage of the Middle High German term lâzen and the Latin term relinquere as equivalents. For more terminological detail see Erik A. panzig: “gelâzenheit und abegescheidenheit—zur verwurzelung beider Theoreme im theologischen Denken Meister Eckharts,” in Meister Eckhart in Erfurt. Internationale Tagung...vom 25. bis 28. September 2003 anlässlich des Meister-Eckhart-Gedenkjahres...Erfurt, ed. by Andreas Speer and Lydia wegener, Berlin: walter de Gruyter 2005 (Miscellanea Mediaevalia, vol. 32), pp. 338–41. 43 SKS 21, 169, NB8:54 / JP 4, 4017. 44 SKS 21, 203, NB9:7 / JP 1, 381. 45 The possible connection between the term Sjelesørger and Blosius has been suggested by the commentators of Kierkegaard’s journals. Cf. SKS K20, 257. Kierkegaard uses this term ironically when he refers to contemporary clergy. He uses it, however, with respect when referring to the spiritual guides of the past. 41

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Peter Šajda by all your knowledge qua theological knowledge—learn to be nauseated by this pious bosh on Sunday.46

In a journal entry in 1848 Kierkegaard speaks again of a “spiritual guide [Sjælesørger],” stating that “in the times when Christianity still existed” the believer, who was subject to the inner trial of temptation, could learn from a spiritual guide about the experiences of others who were tested in the same way. On the contrary, in contemporary Christendom one would be considered deranged if he or she described inner experience of this kind.47 In 1849 Kierkegaard reiterated his earlier claim that spiritual guides do not exist in Christendom anymore: “pastors are no longer spiritual counselors [Sjelesørgere]— physicians have become that.”48 Kierkegaard’s concept of an authentic spiritual guide [Sjælesørger], which he in 1849 explicitly associated with Blosius, is clearly based on the literal meaning of the word implying cura animarum as the prime responsibility of a pastor. The problem of the contemporary pastors was, according to Kierkegaard, rooted in the fact that they lacked the existential experience of the spiritual, which prompted Kierkegaard to denote them as Betragtere: that is, those who only reflect on the content of spirituality without being familiar with it in its applied form.49 The absence of such experience had an immediate effect on their style of preaching, which became a “form of reflection” with the result that “all we do is get farther away from existing [at existere].”50 The opposition Sjelesørger–Betragter was manifested in the sphere of preaching by Kierkegaard’s rejection of the current reflection-like preaching style and his rediscovery of the older monastic form of prædicatio which probably appeared to him more holistic and existence-oriented. Kierkegaard pointed out that “generally there is no existential meaning in present preaching, that to exist [at existere] in accordance with it is an impossibility, because it is nonsense...preaching should have of all things the very closest relationship to existing.”51 In 1848, almost immediately after a quotation from Blosius, Kierkegaard observed the following: “The question, however, is whether monastic orders have not become necessary again in order to get pastors or men who live only to preach.”52 In 1847, shortly before Kierkegaard’s first quotation from Blosius, the philosopher noted in his journal that “ ‘[t]he monastery’ is an essential dialectical element in Christianity; therefore we need to have it out there like a buoy at sea in order to see where we are....What would Luther think upon seeing that the office which alone decisively (si placet) represents essential Christianity, that of the pastors, has been so secularized in the service of the state.”53 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53

SKS 20, 259, NB3:31 / JP 4, 4778. SKS 21, 123, NB7:89. SKS 22, 382, NB14:64 / JP 3, 3137. SKS 21, 203, NB9:6 / JP 3, 3479. SKS 21, 204, NB9:7 / JP 1, 381. SKS 21, 203, NB9:6 / JP 3, 3479. SKS 20, 268, NB3:45 / JP 1, 644. SKS 21, 172, NB8:59 / JP 3, 2603. SKS 20, 247, NB3:4 / JP 3, 2750.

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Kierkegaard’s acknowledgment of Blosius’ authenticity as a spiritual guide corresponded to Blosius’ original intention to compose his works as an instrument of cura animarum and cura pastoralis. It is also probable that Blosius was among those who inspired Kierkegaard to re-evaluate his opinion on the monastic form of prædicatio and prompted him to a nostalgic assertion that there was a time when those who preached were not exempted from the requirements of the preached teaching.54 IV. The Tradition of Old Edifying Authors It can be maintained on the basis of Kierkegaard’s journal entries that the Danish thinker perceived Blosius’ texts as part of the old edifying literature that he held in great respect. He saw in it a vital counterpoint to what he considered to be the prevailing degenerative tendencies in contemporary Christendom, explicitly pointing out their mutual incompatibility. Kierkegaard’s references to Blosius show that the philosopher read Blosius in the years 1847–49, whereby it appears that he read the Benedictine author in at least two stages: in late 1847 and at the turn of the years 1848–49. Similarly to Abraham a Sancta Clara—who may have inspired Kierkegaard to read Blosius in 1847—Blosius offered to Kierkegaard rich material adopted from older spiritual traditions. Kierkegaard’s excerpts from Blosius show, however, that it was the spiritual genuineness of ideas that attracted Kierkegaard, not so much their original source. Nonetheless, it remains an interesting fact that one of Kierkegaard’s few excerpts from Blosius originates from Blosius’ most speculative work Institutio Spiritualis and stems from Meister Eckhart.55 If we consider Blosius the last of the influential authors belonging to the line of mostly medieval Rhineland-Flemish mystics,56 it might be instructive to see Kierkegaard’s reception of his work in connection with his reading of Theologia Deutsch or Johannes Tauler, whom he read for personal edification in between his two phases of reading Blosius.57 In 1849 Kierkegaard also read Thomas à Kempis, not very long after he had recorded his last comment on Blosius in his journal. From this perspective, Blosius might constitute part of a broader mosaic, contributing to Kierkegaard’s overall picture of Catholic edifying sources of primarily the late Middle Ages and devotio moderna. Generally, it is necessary to state that Blosius’ presence in Kierkegaard’s journals is scarce and sporadic, and it remained without any traceable influence Pap. X–5 A 164 / JP 3, 3139. According to Cognet, the themes of speculative mysticism are elaborated in detail only in one of Blosius’ works: Institutio Spiritualis, which he considers Blosius’ main work. Cf. Cognet, Introduction aux mystiques rhéno-flamands, p. 338. On the other hand, the Eckhartian maxim, which Kierkegaard excerpted from Institutio Spiritualis, stems from one of Eckhart’s early texts Die rede der underscheidunge that was orignially composed as a pedagogical text for the formation of monks. 56 Cf. Cognet, Introduction aux mystiques rhéno-flamands, pp. 342–3. 57 SKS 20, 331, NB4:91. SKS 20, 335, NB4:102 / JP 2, 1844. 54 55

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on Kierkegaard’s own literary production. Still, Blosius’ pastoral zeal for salus animarum clearly appealed to Kierkegaard and fueled his intensifying criticism of the style of pastoral care common in the contemporary Danish church. Blosius as a spiritual guide [Sjelesørger] represented for Kierkegaard a pastoral paradigm that encompassed existential practice of spirituality as a key element of pastoral ministry and confronted every single Christian with the challenge of individual reformatio morum. The seriousness of this approach prompted Kierkegaard to declare that if one published a work like Blosius’ Consolatio Pusillanimium in nineteenthcentury protestant Denmark, it would, by its very nature, be “a frightful satire on Christendom.”58

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SKS 21, 203, NB9:7 / JP 1, 381.

Bibliography I. Blosius’ Works in The Auction Catalogue of Kierkegaard’s Library Ludovici Blosii variae eruditionis eximiaeque pietatis nomine celeberrimi abbatis lætiensis opera omnia, Leuven: Joannes Bogardus 1568 (ASKB 429). II. Works in The Auction Catalogue of Kierkegaard’s Library that Discuss Blosius Abraham a St. Clara’s Sämmtliche Werke, vols. 1–21, vols. 1–2, passau: winkler and vienna: Gerold 1835; vols. 3–6, passau: winkler, vienna: Gerold et al. and Breslau: Max 1835; vols. 7–12, passau: winkler 1836–37; vols. 13–14, passau: pustet 1840–41; vols. 15–21, Lindau: Stettner and Augsburg: Rieger 1841–47, vol. 12, p. 43; vol. 14, p. 104; vols. 15–16, pp. 31–2; p. 38; p. 42; p. 59; pp. 400–1; pp. 414–15; pp. 442–3; p. 480; pp. 497–9; pp. 514–15; pp. 524–5; pp. 541–2; pp. 566–7; p. 573; pp. 578–9; vols. 17–18, p. 8; pp. 179–81; pp. 238–9; p. 392; pp. 403–4; p. 463 (ASKB 294–311). Jöcher, Christian Gottlieb, Allgemeines Gelehrten-Lexicon, vols. 1–4, Leipzig: Johann Friedrich Gleditschens Buchhandlung 1750–51, vol. 1, p. 1134 (ASKB 948–951). Moréri, Louis, Le Grand Dictionnaire historique, vols. 1–6, Basel: Jean Brandmuller 1731–32, vol. 2, p. 277 (ASKB 1965–1969). [Suso, Heinrich], Heinrich Suso’s genannt Amandus, Leben und Schriften. Nach den ältesten Handschriften und Drucken mit unverändertem Texte in jetziger Schriftsprache herausgegeben [ed. by] Melchior Diepenbrock. Mit einer Einleitung von [introduced by] J. Görres, 2nd ed., Regensburg: Friedrich pustet 1837, p. X; p. Xv (ASKB 809). III. Secondary Literature on Kierkegaard’s Relation to Blosius None.

Jacob Böhme: The Ambiguous Legacy of Speculative passion Lee C. Barrett

Jacob Böhme, the celebrated speculative mystic, played an ambivalent role in Kierkegaard’s authorship. As we shall see, he sometimes figured as an example of the confusion of metaphysics and Christianity, illustrating the dangers of “speculation.” At other times Böhme served as an exemplary model of single-minded, Godoriented religious passion. Moreover, Böhme’s reflections on the “unground” may have been an inspiration (perhaps mediated by Friedrich wilhelm Schelling or Franz von Baader) for vigilius Haufniensis’ discussion of anxiety, freedom, and sin in The Concept of Anxiety. In short, Böhme presented Kierkegaard with the apparent anomaly of a grand speculator of cosmic proportions who nevertheless manifested genuine pathos. Consequently, Kierkegaard’s attitude toward Böhme would exhibit a pronounced ambivalence, for Böhme presented Kierkegaard with the paradox of a passionate, pious practitioner of speculation. I. Short Overview of Böhme’s Life and Works Jacob Böhme, who lived from 1575 to 1624 mostly in the upper Lusatian provincial city of Görlitz, combined a visionary spirituality with an enthusiasm for theosophical ruminations.1 Although Böhme developed a prosperous shoemaking business and later engaged in trading ventures, his real passion was reserved for the esoteric speculation that thrived in Görlitz. upper Lusatia was contiguous with Lutheran Saxony and Roman Catholic Bohemia, to which it belonged as Hapsburg crown land. Because the city possessed a largely Lutheran population but was nominally ruled by a Roman Catholic sovereign, it enjoyed a moderate degree of de facto religious toleration.2 During the late sixteenth century, this regional ethos of toleration was tacitly condoned by the eclectic court of Rudolph II, Holy Roman Emperor and King of Bohemia, where alchemists, heliocentric astronomers, and kabbalists were supported. Even the Lutheran majority of Görlitz did not constitute a theologically For Böhme’s biography, see Andrew weeks, Boehme: An Intellectual Biography of the Seventeenth-Century Philosopher and Mystic, New York: State university of New York press 1991; Hans Tesch, Jakob Böhme, Munich: Delp 1976; David walsh, The Mysticism of Innerworldly Fulfillment: A Study of Jacob Boehme, Gainesville: university presses of Florida 1983. 2 See weeks, Boehme: An Intellectual Biography, pp. 14–59. 1

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monolithic block, and, lacking the power of an official territorial church, was unable to enforce any sort of orthodoxy. One faction, the “philippists” who followed the irenic teachings of philipp Melanchthon, vied with another party, the theologically conservative “Gnesio-Lutherans” who dominated near-by Dresden, as well as with a smaller group of crypto-Calvinists who were gaining strength in neighboring Silesia. Each of these groups entertained differing views of the Eucharist, ranging from the Lutheran conviction that Christ’s real physical presence is “in, with, and under” the sacramental elements, to Calvin’s doctrine of Christ’s real spiritual presence during the celebration of the sacrament, to zwingli’s belief that Christ is memorialized in the soul of the believer by the ceremony. To further contribute to the theological pluralism, Görlitz harbored followers of the spiritualist Caspar Schwenckfeld von Ossig (1489 or 1490–1561), an atypical reformer who had proclaimed that the Christian community should be a spiritual brotherhood embracing both wealthy aristocrats as well as poor agrarian laborers.3 Schwenckfeld had also stressed the authority of the “inner word” resident in the heart of devout individuals, an appeal to immediate experience that typified the religious sensibilities of many Lusatians. Moreover, the thought of the alchemist paracelsus was popular with several local physicians in Görlitz, as was the speculative metaphysics of the nature mystic valentine weigel, who drew upon the tradition of the Theologia Germanica and the earlier medieval Neoplatonic mysticism of John the Scot Erigina.4 Martin Moller, the town’s Lutheran pastor during the first six years of the seventeenth century, encouraged an interest in medieval mystical literature and in the work of Johann Arndt, the celebrated pietist.5 Even the scholarly mayor, Bartolomaüs Scultetus, was a proponent of the unconventional astronomical thought of Tycho Brahe and Johannes Kepler, and was also an enthusiastic reader of paracelsus.6 Renaissance Neoplatonism, Jewish kabbalism, and even forms of neognosticism all contributed to the theological ferment and helped catalyze periodic outbursts of religious fervor in the region. This polyglot situation, so conducive to heterodox theological experimentation, would be destabilized when Ferdinand of Styria, the ardent champion of the Counter-Reformation, was nominated to the throne of Bohemia in 1617. Lusatia was then pressured by neighboring protestant powers to join the anti-Catholic, anti-Imperialist Bohemian Confederation led by Friedrich, the Elector palatine, a staunch Calvinist. Böhme was a product of this precarious religious syncretism and spiritual ferment. His personal inward turmoil seems to have been triggered by the spectacle of tragedy and violence in human society and in nature. According to Böhme, the natural order exhibits a struggle between suffering, ugliness, and decay, and joy, See Ernst-Heinz Lemper, Jacob Böhme: Leben und Werk, Berlin: union verlag 1976, pp. 28–49. 4 Ernst-Heinz Lemper, “Görlitz und der paracelsismus,” Deutsche Zeitschrift für Philosophie, vol. 18, no. 3, 1970, pp. 347–60; Alexandre Koyré, Mystiques, spirituels, alchimistes du XVIe siècle allemande, paris: Gallimard 1955. 5 John Joseph Stoudt, Sunrise to Eternity: A Study in Jacob Boehme’s Life and Thought, philadelphia: university of pennsylvania press 1957, pp. 49–52. 6 See weeks, Boehme: An Intellectual Biography, p. 27. 3

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beauty, and life. Analogously, the social order is the stage in which violence, wrath, and retribution vie with love, justice, and mercy. His revulsion to societal violence was partly motivated by the lawlessness that had afflicted his native Lusatia ever since the brutal Hussite wars. The vitriol often expressed by the factions in the doctrinal controversies that disrupted the tranquility of Lusatia contributed to his distress. Böhme’s spiritual anguish was compounded by the seeming indifference of the cosmos to creaturely misery and to the tension between good and evil. Driven by this sense of the suffering that permeates all things, Böhme’s thoughts returned to the questions “Why is there something rather than nothing?” and “Why is there evil?”7 Böhme’s spiritual struggles were partly resolved through visionary experiences that spawned theosophical speculation. In a series of theophanic experiences lasting from 1600 to 1612 he claimed to have been overwhelmed by a sense of God’s all-embracing love and enlightened with an insight into the hidden depths of the cosmos.8 For Böhme, these experiences that transcended conceptual knowledge were a glimpse into the core of being. whatever the nature of these episodes of “illumination,” Böhme felt that the mechanical and ostensibly indifferent surface of nature had become transparent, revealing its radiant depths. In spite of his rhetoric of “mystery” and his references to the via negativa, these visionary experiences seemed to possess positive conceptual content and inspired a torrent of lengthy tomes that explored their metaphysical implications. unlike some of the earlier and more apophatic mystics of the Middle Ages, Böhme’s visions provided insight into the structure and dynamics of the universe. His immediate experience functioned as a primary authority, displacing claims to knowledge based solely on the alleged historicity of biblical revelation or on normative doctrinal traditions. Both the meaning and the truth of the Bible and the various theological heritages were established by direct, personal experience. True religious knowledge was not reducible to assent to theological propositions certified by church authority. Nor was discursive rationality the exclusive font of religious wisdom. Rather, immediate experience, biblical lore, fragments of theological traditions, and bits of philosophical speculation all coalesced in Böhme’s mind to form an idiosyncratic and intricate cosmological system. In 1612 Böhme composed his first book, Morgenröthe im Aufgang, or Aurora, in which he first articulated his sense of the immanence of God’s life in all the dimensions of the cosmos. His manuscript was copied and circulated widely even though he had not given his permission for its distribution. As a result, his notoriety increased, and he began to attract disciples. Because of his heightened visibility, he also attracted the hostile attention of the more conservative Lutheran ministers, including the highly polemical Gregor Richter, who accused Böhme of heresy and vainly tried to stop the propagation of his thought. In response to the command of See Jacob Böhme, Sämtliche Schriften, vols. 1–11, ed. by will-Erich peuckert and August Faust, Stuttgart: Frommanns verlag 1955–61, vol. 1, pp. 265–71. This edition is a facsimile of the 1730 edition of Theosophia Revelata: Das ist: Alle Göttliche Schriften des Gottselingen und Hocherleuchteten Deutschen Theosophi Jacob Böhmens, ed. by Johann Georg Gichtel and Johann wilhelm ueberfeld, [no place or publisher listed, published presumably in Amsterdam or in Leiden] 1730. 8 Böhme, Sämtliche Schriften, vol. 1, pp. 265–6; vol. 10, pp. 8–11. 7

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the town council, Böhme did cease writing until 1619, although he did not obey the council’s order that he leave the city. The outbreak of the Thirty Years’ war in 1618 sparked by the election of a Calvinist to the throne of Bohemia inspired Böhme to take up the pen again in order to explain the ultimate sources of discord and harmony in the cosmos. The ensuing torrent of writing included Von den drei Principien göttlichen Wesens in 1619 and Vom Dreifachen Leben des Menschen in 1620, both of which explore the continuing creation, fall, and recovery of humanity and the broader cosmos. Viertzig Fragen von der Seelen of 1620 developed his thought in a Neoplatonic direction, suggesting that temporal events should be regarded as the moving image of eternity. Also dating from 1620, his Von der Menschwerdung Jesu Christi articulated the crucial theme that Christ and the Trinity permeate all things, inviting angry, fearful human souls to a spiritual rebirth. Von sechs theosophischen Puncten of 1621 elaborates the divine drive toward self-expression and self-definition in the differentiations and tensions of finite creatures. His classic De signatura rerum followed in 1622, in which he developed his theory that certain symbols in nature can spontaneously catalyze a recognition of the common source of all things in the divine life. The colossal Mysterium Magnum of 1623 summarized and synthesized the diverse themes scattered in his earlier works, with kabbalistic and gnostic motifs becoming more prominent. Böhme died in 1624, having been horrified at the monumental violence unleashed by the Lutheran Saxon invasion of Lusatia, which had been ordered by the Catholic Emperor Ferdinand in order to subdue the Calvinist upstarts. Böhme’s later writings are peppered with pleas for restraint and harmony in a situation that had degenerated into religious civil war. Suspicion of heterodoxy dogged Böhme during the waning years of his life. Before his death he was not allowed to receive holy communion until he had satisfactorily responded to an interrogation concerning his suspect theological convictions. After his death, Bohme’s more devotional writings, many of which dealt with self-abnegation, were collated by his supporters and published as Der Weg zu Christo. II. Böhme’s Thought In articulating his understanding of the cosmos, Böhme promiscuously appropriated themes from the diverse religious conceptualities available in his intellectual environment. As a result, his work resists easy classification as any specific type of metaphysics, mysticism, or spiritualism. However, Böhme’s exuberant eclecticism has not prevented scholars from trying to identify a dominant ideological influence or from attempting to locate him in an identifiable tradition. Some interpreters have contended that the basic structure of his cosmology is most significantly indebted to alchemy and kabbalistic speculation, including the ideology of the “prophet.”9 Others have maintained that one of the most powerful influences on his work is

See Ernst Benz, Der Prophet Jakob Böhme: Eine Studie über den Typus nachreformatorischen Prophetentums, wiesbaden: Steiner verlag 1959. 9

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to be found in late medieval Neoplatonic mysticism.10 Even the apocalypticism of Joachim of Fiore has been hailed as the major source of Böhme’s cosmic drama.11 Other expositors have claimed that Lutheran illuminism12 or valentinian gnosticism13 supplied the basic structure for his speculations. Yet others argue that Böhme was a syncretistic pansophist, similar to Sebastian Franck, intentionally striving to synthesize discrepant occult conceptualities, with no single one providing the basic foundation.14 Whatever his most influential sources may have been, Böhme used them to reconceive the biblical drama of creation, fall, and redemption. Böhme appropriated biblical themes, specific Lutheran doctrinal motifs, alchemical lore, and fragments of mystical traditions and resituated them in his own imaginative narrative of God’s evolution. Although Böhme’s eclectic and diffuse speculations evolved, with many shifts in vocabulary and conceptual inconsistencies, certain pivotal themes remained relatively constant. His early Aurora often describes God in a rather pantheistic fashion as the unconscious substratum or sum of the elemental forces or energies that permeate the universe, lacking even an inchoate intentionality.15 But even here he sometimes uses more overtly pantheistic and volitional language, describing God as the divine desire that purposefully animates all things.16 The Trinitarian divine spirit indwells both insensate matter and human consciousness,17 giving a tripartite structure to everything from the petals of flowers to the human self. Böhme probably developed this schema from the Lutheran eucharistic doctrine of the ubiquity of Christ’s body, which maintained that the communication of the attributes of the divine and human natures of Christ to one another resulted in the omnipresence of Christ in the created order. Elaborating this theme, Böhme regarded the entire cosmos as the product of the divine impulse toward self-manifestation. From the apophatic tradition of medieval mysticism, Böhme appropriated the concept of the “unground,” the divine undifferentiated unity, the absence of relationality that preceded the divine self-manifestation.18 This “unground” is nameless and inexpressible, resistant to knowledge and discernment because the differentiation of subject and object has not yet occurred.19 As in the apophatic tradition, it can be called “nothing,” but it is more than a simple nothingness, for it contains a potentiality to move from See Franz Anton Staudenmaier, Die Philosophie des Christentums oder Metaphysik der heiligen Schrift als Lehre von den göttlichen Ideen in ihrer Entwicklung in Natur, Geist, and Geschichte, Giessen: Ferber 1840, vol. 1, pp. 726–40 [only one volume was published]. 11 Henri de Lubac, La postérité spirituelle de Joachim de Flore. 1: De Joachim à Schelling, paris: Lethielleux 1979. 12 See Heinrich Bornkamm, Luther und Böhme, Bonn: Marcus and weber 1925. 13 Cyril O’Regan, Gnostic Return in Modernity, New York: State university of New York press 2001. 14 See will-Erich peuchert, Pansophie: Ein Versuch zur Geschichte der Weissen und schwarzen Magie, Berlin: Schmidt verlag 1976. 15 Böhme, Sämtliche Schriften, vol. 1, pp. 53–5. 16 Ibid., pp. 97–8. 17 Ibid., pp. 97–8; p. 268. 18 Ibid., vol. 3, p. 11; vol. 4, p. 127. 19 Ibid., vol. 4, pp. 4–45. 10

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mystery to manifestation.20 Consequently, this inchoate source of all possibilities can be termed the “Mysterium magnum.”21 For manifestation, the divine life requires differentiation, multiplicity, and the distinction of subject and object. The impulse toward consciousness, self-knowledge, and activity was resident in the depths of the “unground,” and continues to animate the very structure of the cosmos. Creaturely temporality is an expression of the dynamism of these eternal forces.22 Nonphysical forces operative in divine becoming eventually find embodied expression in the physical world. The being of particular creatures is an articulation of the vitalities resident in the ground of being. Consequently, it is not accurate to describe the creation of the universe as being ex nihilo or ex materio. Rather, God produced the universe out of God’s own being itself; properly understood, the act of creation is ex Deo.23 The eternal dynamics in the divine nature manifest themselves in time as the history of the cosmos. The physical giveness of finite entities is merely the opaque surface of their spiritual depths. As the alchemical traditions had maintained, spiritual forces are prior to the existence of all physical things and are latent within them. Spirit is the living inner core of all material reality, for spirit harbors an impetus toward self-revelation.24 Consequently, both insensate nature and human consciousness, both substance and subjectivity, share a common source and are two aspects of the same unfolding process.25 The preconscious drive toward life and consciousness animates all the fundamental dynamics of the universe. According to Böhme, it is the unconscious passions in matter that generate consciousness. By developing this metaphysical framework, Böhme sought to transcend the ordinary polarities of heaven and earth, time and eternity, and body and spirit. Every dimension of being is analogously configured. Identical dynamics inform the hidden meanings of biblical passages, the functions of the soul, the movements of the planets, and the behavior of the elements. All reality, at both the macrocosmic and microcosmic levels, is dynamic, evolutionary, and agonistic.26 Throughout the cosmos, in all its dimensions, every phenomenon activates its polar opposite.27 Even ostensibly inert matter is animated by this complex and tensive interplay of attraction and repulsion. Similarly, according to Böhme triadic patterns are evident throughout the cosmos, for parallels can be discerned between the persons of the Trinity and the three alchemical principles. This triadic pattern also informs Böhme’s understanding of humanity which involves a tripartite anthropology of body, soul, and spirit, with spirit being the locus of freedom. Moreover, every aspect of Böhme’s cosmology was thoroughly developmental and evolutionary. Throughout his work more basic, primal stages, such as unconscious drives, are sublated into more sophisticated, complex stages, such consciousness and volition. 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27

Ibid., p. 13. Ibid., vol. 7, pp. 9–35. Ibid., vol. 3, p. 90. Ibid., vol. 2, p. 177. Ibid., vol. 6, p. 7. Ibid., vol. 4, pp. 169–70. Ibid., vol. 2, pp. 53–65. Ibid., vol. 4, p. 15; p. 67.

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By 1618 Böhme was using this dynamic, panentheistic schema to completely reconfigure traditional Christian doctrines and concepts. Conflating doctrinal and esoteric discourses, Böhme proposed that the chaotic “unground” projects the eternal “wisdom,” which is the possibility but not the actuality of the forms of all things, and thereby establishes the possibility of otherness and particularity. The chaotic darkness yearning for the harmonious light is often symbolized by Böhme as the “Noble virgin” and/or “Sophia,” the impulse of the divine toward tranquil and joyful self-knowledge.28 The Trinity is a further development of the possibility of a world of particulars, involving a differentiation of mind and will that makes desire possible. The “Word” in this scheme appears as the source of self-reflexivity. Böhme suggests that the source of evil is to be found in the divine nature itself, for conflict and alienation are necessary developmental moments in the unfolding of the divine life. Of course, God does not will the existence of evil through an intentional act as a component of a purposive plan. Rather, evil is an inevitable byproduct of the self-actualization of God.29 In general, Böhme discovers the source of evil in anger: the anger of God, the anger of the devil, and the anger of humanity.30 Böhme therefore searched for an all-encompassing explanation for this general hostility that seemed to pervade every aspect of the universe. He sought to discover the underlying motivation for all the anger that he perceived all around him, from ecclesiastical squabbles to marauding armies and to lethal plagues. According to Böhme, “eternal nature,” a virulent chaos that is formless and resists representation, is generated because the contractive rather than expansive element in desire rejects relationality. Objectless, non-specific yearning contracts into itself, becomes angry and frustrated, and then panics at the impossibility of satisfaction. The contractive desire that typifies eternal nature establishes the ground of genuine differentiation. Because of this dynamic, proliferation occurs throughout the universe without order or harmony. Ironically, eternal nature makes the divine self-manifestation possible by obstructing it. For Böhme, there must be a “no,” a force of opposition, in order for God’s “yes” to be actualized and known.31 The assertion of particularity, including the chaotic, unrestrained procreative drive, inevitably generates conflict, anxiety, and suffering. Tragedy is the result of the blind conflict among creatures, each one consolidating its particular identity through its pursuit of desire. This struggle of all against all is necessary in order for a situation to exist other than the static calm of undifferentiated divinity. Conflict and suffering constitute the necessary ground of genuine differentiation. Böhme interprets the biblical Lucifer as the primal act of self-assertion that spawns materiality. Following the defection of Lucifer, both the injustices of humans and the tensions in nature appeared as further expressions of this contractive desire rooted in God’s unfolding life. Adam’s fall into sin was yet another manifestation of this self-inclosing desire. The traumatic primal fall of humankind even affected physical nature, for it produced sexual differentiation,

28 29 30 31

Ibid., vol. 2, pp. 153–5. Ibid., vol. 2, pp. 36–7; vol. 4, p. 67. Ibid., vol. 2, p. 11. Ibid., vol. 9, p. 27.

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something that had not been present in Eden.32 Societally, this contractive desire has been responsible for the human propensity for war and the intolerance shown toward untraditional religious doctrines. Through all this tortuous theorizing, Böhme was attempting to explain the horrors of the Thirty Years’ war in terms of highly general ontological dynamics, and to understand the lethal rage of human beings in terms of the primal anger of God. Fortunately, anger, evil, and suffering are moments in the divine life that are being sublated into a higher unity and harmony. In at least some of his writings, Böhme proposes that a final age will dawn in which all the tensions in nature and history will be resolved.33 Böhme associates the ultimate resolution of contractive desire with the triumph of the mercy of Christ. Christ is the Second Adam who androgynously synthesizes masculine will with feminine wisdom, creating harmony and balance. Love, peace, and bliss will eventually control contractive desire and its consequent self-will, while nevertheless utilizing their primal energy for lifeenhancing purposes. Societally, narrow sectarianism and factionalism will give way to toleration and mutual affirmation. Unity-in-difference will replace both undifferentiated unity and chaotic differentiation. In Der Weg zu Christo Böhme applied these cosmological themes to the development of the individual’s spiritual life, mapping out a novel ordo salutis.34 The soul must progress from self-awareness to sincere repentance, and on to regeneration. This regeneration involves a profound identification with Christ, the one in whom a new humanity has been created. In describing this transformation, Böhme often employs disjunctive rhetoric, emphasizing the death of the old self, the birth of a new self, and the discontinuity of the new self with its former identity. Often Böhme developed this motif in terms of Gelassenheit, or “letting be,” a concept common in the writings of the pietist Johann Arndt35 as well as in earlier medieval German mystics. Unlike them, however, Böhme’s reflections on spiritual development continued to exhibit a pronounced communitarian dimension, for the transformation of individuals was intimately linked to the eschatological restoration of human nature and the renovation of the entire cosmos. Internal spiritual transformation is part and parcel of a broader cosmic transformation. During the mid seventeenth century Böhme’s thought was preserved and perpetuated by his friend and disciple Abraham von Franckenberg (1593–1652), and was exported to the more tolerant environment of Amsterdam by German emigrés. Radical pietists and spiritualists like Friedrich Christoph Oetinger (1702–82) passed Böhme’s legacy on to the theosophic movements of the eighteenth century.36 In the early nineteenth century interest in Böhme’s work was common among Romantics and idealists with speculative proclivities. Hegel lauded Böhme as the first German Ibid., vol. 2, p. 107. Ibid., vol. 3, pp. 264–340. 34 Ibid., vol. 4. 35 Johann Arndt, Sämtliche geistreiche Bücher vom wahren Christenthum, new ed., Tübingen: [no publisher or year listed, presumably Berger 1737] (ASKB 276). 36 See Ernst Benz, Les Sources mystiques de la philosophie romantique allemande, paris: Librarie philosophique J. vrin 1968. 32 33

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philosopher, although he also derided Böhme’s rhetorical opacity and denounced his imagistic style as barbaric.37 By 1835 F.C. Baur (1792–1860) could plausibly credit Böhme as being the inspiration of the revival of gnosis that had captured the popular imagination in the nineteenth century.38 Most significantly, Böhme exerted considerable influence on the Catholic but antipapal Munich philosopher Franz von Baader (1765–1841) and, to some extent, upon Friedrich wilhelm Joseph Schelling (1775–1854) in his mature period.39 Schelling’s interest in the conditions of knowledge led him to interpret Böhme’s thought in epistemological categories and to construe it in terms of the evolving history of consciousness, thereby making it even more relevant to the issues that concerned the early nineteenth century.40 Hans Lassen Martensen (1808–84), who instructed Kierkegaard in theology during Kierkegaard’s student years, became interested in Böhme through his contact with Franz von Baader in the mid-1830s.41 In this manner Böhme’s unique blend of Christian kabbalism, alchemical lore, Neoplatonism, Lutheran eucharistic piety, and medieval mysticism made its way into Romanticism and idealism and became part of Kierkegaard’s intellectual environment. III. Kierkegaard’s Familiarity with Böhme Kierkegaard could have been familiar with Böhme’s thought both from primary and secondary sources, although there is no evidence that he ever engaged in an in-depth study of Böhme. Four books by Böhme appear in the auction catalogue of Kierkegaard’s library: Beschreibung der drey Principien Göttliches Wesens,42

G.w.F. Hegel, G.W.F. Hegel: Vorlesungen: ausgewählte Nachschriften und Manuscripte, vols. 1–16, Hamburg: Meiner 1983–2002, vol. 9, Vorlesungen über die Geschichte der Philosophie, Teil 4, Philosophie des Mittelalters und der neueren Zeit, ed. by pierre Garniron and walter Jaeschke, pp. 79–88; Lectures on the History of Philosophy, vols. 1–3, ed. by Robert Brown, trans. by R.F. Brown, J.M. Stewart, and H. S. Harris, Berkeley, California et al.: university of California press 1990, vol. 3, Medieval and Modern Philosophy, pp. 117–31. 38 Ferdinand Christian Baur, Die christliche Gnosis oder die christliche ReligionsPhilosophie in ihrer geschichtlichen Entwicklung, Tübingen: C.F. Osiander 1835, pp. 557–611 (ASKB 421). 39 See Andrew weeks, German Mysticism from Hildegard of Bingen to Ludwig Wittgenstein: A Literary and Intellectual History, New York: State university of New York press 1993, pp. 227–8. 40 See Robert F. Brown, The Later Philosophy of Schelling: The Influence of Boehme on the Works of 1809–1815, Lewisburg: Bucknell university press 1977. 41 Hans Lassen Martensen, Af mit Levnet: Meddeleser, vols. 1–3, Copenhagen: Gyldendal 1882–83, vol. 1, pp. 98–145. 42 Böhme, Beschreibung der drey Principien Göttliches Wesens. Das ist Von der ohn Uhrsprung ewigen Gebuhrt der H. Dreyfaltigkeit Gottes und wie durch und aus derselben sind geschaffen worden die Engel so wol die Himme auch die Sterne und Elementa, sampt allem Creaturlichen Wesen und alles was da lebet und schwebet: Fürnemlich Von dem Menschen worauß er geschaffen worden und zu waserley Ende..., Amsterdam: Betkius 1660 (ASKB 451). 37

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Christosophia oder Weg zu Christo,43 Hohe und tiefe Gründe von dem dreyfachen Leben des Menschen,44 and Mysterium magnum.45 Moreover, Kierkegaard did own several books that contained references to Böhme and discussions of his work. wilhelm Gottlieb Tennemann’s (1761–1819) rationalistic history of philosophy dismissed Böhme as an extravagant enthusiast.46 Moritz Carriere’s (1817–95) Die philosophische Weltanschauung der Reformationszeit provided a much more positive account of Böhme as a legitimate philosopher.47 Joseph von Görres (1776–1848), who was associated by Kierkegaard with the school of Schelling, portrayed the history of Christian mysticism, including the Neoplatonic strand, as a foreshadowing of speculative philosophy, but did not deal extensively with Böhme.48 Kierkegaard could also have learned of Böhme in Franz Baader’s very laudatory Vorlesungen über religiöse Philosophie,49 Vorlesungen über die Speculative Dogmatik,50 and Fermenta Cognitionis.51 G.w.F. Hegel’s Geschichte der Philosophie also contained an influential account of Böhme as a significant precursor of modern philosophy who unfortunately remained bound to images rather than concepts.52 Schelling’s Böhme, Christosophia oder Weg zu Christo verfasset in Neun Büchlein, nun in Acht zusammen gezogen, welche handeln Von wahrer Busse, und vom Schlüssel Göttlicher Geheimnisse; vom H. Gebet; von der wahren Gelassenheit; von der Wiedergebur..., [no place or publisher are listed, published presumably in Leiden] 1731 (ASKB 454). 44 Böhme, Hohe und tieffe Gründe von dem dreyfachen Leben des Menschen, nach dem Geheimnüß der dreyen Principien göttlicher Offenbahrung geschrieben nach göttlicher Erleuchtung durch Jacob Böhmen, sonsten Teutonicus genandt, Amsterdam: Betkius 1660 (ASKB 452). 45 Böhme, Mysterium magnum, Oder Erklärung über das Erste Buch Mosis Von der Offenbarung Göttlichen Worts durch die drey Principia Göttlichen Wesens auch vom Ursprung der Welt und der Schöpffung. Darinnen Das Reich der Natur und Das Reich der Gnaden erkläret wird...Amsterdam 1682 (ASKB 453). 46 wilhelm Gottlieb Tennemann, Geschichte der Philosophie, vols. 1–11, Johann Ambrosius Barth 1798–1819, vol. 10, p. 188 (ASKB 815–826). 47 Moriz Carriere, Die philosophische Weltanschauung der Reformationszeit in ihren Beziehungen zur Gegenwart, Stuttgart and Tübingen: J.G. Cotta’scher verlag 1847 (ASKB 458). 48 Joseph von Görres, Die christliche Mystik, vols. 1–5, Regensburg and Landshut: G. Joseph Manz 1836–43 (ASKB 528–532). See Pap. v B 53:18 / CA, Supplement, p. 187. 49 Franz Baader, Vorlesungen gehalten an der Königlich-Bayerischen LudwigMaximilians-Hochschule über religiöse Philosophie im Gegensatze der irreligiösen, älterer und neuer Zeit, vol. 1, Einleitender Theil oder vom Erkennen überhaupt, Munich: Jakob Giel 1827 (ASKB 395). The entire book is saturated with references to and borrowings from Böhme. 50 Franz Baader, Vorlesungen über die speculative Dogmatik, Stuttgart and Tübingen: J.G. Cotta’sche Buchhandlung 1828, p. 84; p. 87 (ASKB 396). 51 Franz Baader, Fermenta Cognitionis, vols. 1–5, Berlin: Reimer 1822–24, vol. 1, p. 4; pp. 20–3; p. 33; p. 35; p. 48; vol. 2, pp. ii-iii; p. 15; p. 47; p. 51; vol. 3, pp. 5; 7; pp. 12–17; pp. 24–32; p. 38; p. 45; p. 53; vol. 4, pp. 6–12; pp. 18–21; 28; pp. 33–43; pp. 47–59; vol. 5, p. iii; pp. 26–7; 35–44; 55–58; p. 62; p. 68; pp. 73–83 (ASKB 394). 52 [Hegel], Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel’s Vorlesungen über die Geschichte der Philosophie, vols. 1–3, ed. by Carl Ludwig Michelet, Berlin: Duncker und Humblot 1833–36 43

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Philosophische Untersuchungen über das Wesen der menschlichen Freiheit developed themes that Kierkegaard found to be reminiscent of Böhme on the role of “movement” in philosophy.53 Kierkegaard also encountered Böhme through his theology teacher Hans L. Martensen, who in the winter semester of 1838–39 delivered a set of lectures on speculative dogmatics.54 Kierkegaard attended some of the early lectures, and owned notes, presumably by another student, covering the lectures that dealt with Böhme.55 According to Martensen, Böhme is a representative of the speculative approach to dogmatics, an approach that, like Hegel’s, is more concerned about the unity of the finite world with God than about human responsibility for sin. In Martensen’s view, Böhme stressed the necessity for spirit to become objective through opposition, including the need for God’s spirit to be actualized through the opposition of the differentiated, finite realm of nature.56 In 1840 Martensen also published a book on Meister Eckhart, purchased by Kierkegaard, that contained a brief exposition of Böhme.57 Another important source of Kierkegaard’s familiarity with Böhme was Schelling’s 1841–42 lectures in Berlin, many of which Kierkegaard attended. Kierkegaard’s notes from that lecture series contain Schelling’s references to Böhme, revealing the significant impact that Böhme had upon Schelling. According to Kierkegaard, Schelling proposed that Böhme exhibited a similarity to Spinoza, who had proposed an absolute transcendence that “exploded the contrast between thought and being.”58 Later in Kierkegaard’s notes Schelling explicitly borrows Böhme’s concept of Urstand in order to explicate his own view that the primordial potency, which had been blind will, becomes understanding when it gains control over itself and is brought back to itself.59 IV. Kierkegaard’s Use of Böhme Direct references to Böhme appear infrequently in Kierkegaard’s published writings, and rarely occur in his journals. Sometimes the passing references imply (vols. 13–15 in Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel’s Werke. Vollständige Ausgabe, ed. by philipp Marheineke et al., Berlin: Duncker und Humblot 1832–45), vol. 3, 1836 (ASKB 557–559). 53 [Schelling], F.W.J. Schelling’s philosophische Schriften, vol. 1, Landshut: philipp Krüll1809 (ASKB 763). See Pap. Iv B 117 / FT, Supplement, p. 322. 54 See Jon Stewart, A History of Hegelianism in Golden Age Denmark, Tome II, The Martensen Period: 1837–1842, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 2007, pp. 238–45, 284–7 (Danish Golden Age Studies, vol. 3). 55 Pap. II C 28 in Pap. XIII, pp. 44–116. 56 Pap. II C 28, in Pap. XIII, p. 56; pp. 68–9. 57 Martensen, Mester Eckart. Et Bidrag til at oplyse Middelalderens Mystik, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1840 (ASKB 649), pp. 143–8; Meister Eckhart: A Study in Speculative Thought, in Between Hegel and Kierkegaard: Hans L. Martensen’s Philosophy of Religion, trans. and ed. by Curtis L. Thompson and David Kangas, Atlanta: Scholars press 1997, pp. 149–243. See also Stewart, A History of Hegelianism in Golden Age Denmark, Tome II, The Martensen Period: 1837–1842, pp. 417–27. 58 SKS 19, 332, NB 11:20 / CI, 369. 59 SKS 19, 346–7, NB 11:29 / CI, 387.

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no particular approbation or disapprobation. For example, in The Concept of Irony Böhme is mentioned as an exemplar of a type of mood to which an ironist could be susceptible, analogous to, but contrasted with, being in a “Greek” frame of mind.60 In this passage, Kierkegaard has emphasized the fleeting, discontinuous, and arbitrary succession of moods in the life of the ironist, a criticism of romantic irony that Kierkegaard borrowed from Hegel’s reflections on Solger and Tieck.61 Here the reference to Böhme suggests no particular evaluation of his thought; Böhme merely functions as a paradigm of one mood among many possible moods. Other passages in Kierkegaard’s corpus tend to link Böhme with some form of speculative philosophy. As we have seen, in somewhat different ways Baader, Schelling, Hegel, and Martensen all promoted this understanding of Böhme’s work. For example, in De Omnibus dubitandum est Kierkegaard’s discussion62 of the claim that “philosophy begins with doubt” reveals his familiarity with Hegel’s discussion of Descartes in The History of Philosophy.63 In this context Hegel links Descartes’ efforts to express the philosophic spirit of his age in thought to Böhme’s attempt to grasp it in sensuous images.64 Such passages would have led Kierkegaard to regard Böhme as the practitioner of an imaginative, intuitive, and sensory form of metaphysical speculation, in which the unity of thought and being had not been entirely negated, and in which speculation did not commence with itself. At times Kierkegaard seems to echo Hegel’s discontent with the sensuous dimension of Böhme’s thought. In a letter to Israel Levin in 1845 Kierkegaard jokes about Böhme’s confession that “his eyes were opened to the Heavenly Radiance of the Trinity when he gazed upon the reflection of the sun in a pewter plate,” quipping that the episode would have been embarrassing for the plate if the plate had known about it.65 The levity suggests a disparagement of Böhme’s apparent reliance upon finite objects and sensory phenomena as a catalyst for spiritual illumination. The allusions to Böhme in The Concept of Anxiety imply a more overt critique of the speculative aspects of Böhme’s thought. In considering the possibility that sensuousness is sin, vigilius wrestles with “objective anxiety,” the capacity of nature to awaken the type of vertiginous attraction/repulsion that can motivate sin.66 vigilius attempts to avoid the opposite mistakes that he ascribes to Franz von Baader and Friedrich Schelling. On the one hand, Baader rightly rejected the rationalist notion that sensuousness and finitude are essentially sinful, but failed to take into account the history of the race that produces “objective anxiety” by distorting sensuousness SKS 1, 320 / CI, 285. G.w.F. Hegel, “ueber Solger’s nachgelassene Schriften und Briefwechsel,” in [Hegel], Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel’s vermischte Schriften, vols. 1–2, ed. by Friedrich Förster and Ludwig Boumann, Berlin: Duncker und Humblot 1834–35 (vols. 16–17 in Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel’s Werke. Vollständige Ausgabe, ed. by philipp Marheineke et al., Berlin: Duncker und Humblot 1832–45, vol. 1, pp. 458–64 (ASKB 555–556). 62 Pap. Iv B 1 116 / JC, 133. See JC, Explanatory Notes, 324. 63 [Hegel], Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel’s Vorlesungen über die Geschichte der Philosophie, vol. 3, p. 335. 64 Ibid., pp. 334–5. 65 B&A, vol. 1, p. 145 / LD, Letter 124, pp. 184–5. 66 SKS 4, 363–4 / CA, 59. 60 61

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into sinfulness, and the way that this sinfulness becomes the individual’s own legacy when the individual posits sin. On the other hand, the school of Schelling located this objective anxiety in inanimate nature itself, a mistake that vigilius dismissed as a confusion of natural philosophy and dogmatics. In a footnote for this passage, vigilius remarks that Schelling saw anxiety, suffering, and anger as alterations in nature itself, but tended to regard these characteristics of the natural world as the products of the negative moment in God.67 vigilius fears that Schelling’s view ultimately roots objective anxiety in the birth pangs of deity, the inevitable suffering of the deity in its efforts to create, rather than in the sinfulness of the human race. In the margin of a draft for this passage, Kierkegaard associated Böhme with Schelling’s tendency to regard anxiety, anger, hunger, and suffering as the fruits of the negative moment in God.68 Consequently, Böhme is implicated in Schelling’s confusion of dogmatics and metaphysics. vigilius cautions that one should not wonder about the existence of sexuality before the fall, as do the “project makers.”69 This is probably an allusion to Franz von Baader, who echoed Böhme’s theory that before the fall human nature was androgynous. Böhme falls under the same general condemnation that applies to all speculative system-builders who confuse categories and misleadingly conflate the moods of reflection and religious engagement. However, in other contexts in Kierkegaard’s writings Böhme appears in a much more positive light. In a journal entry from 1847 Kierkegaard lamented the fact that hurried, worldly people are seldom diligent about God or eternity.70 In the margin of this note Kierkegaard praised as “excellent” Böhme’s observation that “The one to whom time is as eternity and eternity as time, he is freed from all strife.”71 Kierkegaard probably discovered the statement in the pages of Moriz Carriere’s chapter on Böhme in Die philosophische Weltanschauung der Reformationszeit, where it appears early and prominently.72 Here Böhme is presented as a proponent of genuine religious pathos, including the requisite earnestness about eternal matters. One further possible bit of evidence for Kierkegaard’s enthusiasm for the religious pathos of Böhme must be considered at this point. Howard Hong proposed that Kierkegaard’s familiarity with this passage in Carriere may provide a clue to the source of the phrase “a blessed leap into eternity” used by Johannes de silentio in Fear and Trembling.73 De silentio employs these words to accentuate the contrast between existential passion and attachment to the blandishments of worldly life, and ascribes the words to an unnamed poet who had in his previous lines praised worldly delights. According to Howard Hong, the phrase resembles Böhme’s last words, “Nun fahre ich ins Paradies,” which are found in Carriere’s book a page before the passage that Kierkegaard quoted in the journal entry of 1847.74 Of course, 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74

Ibid. Pap. v B 53:18 / CA, 187. SKS 4, 354 / CA, 48. SKS 20, 124, NB:214 / JP 4, 5009. SKS 20, 124, NB:214 / JP 4, 5010. Carriere, Die philosophische Weltanschauung der Reformationszeit, p. 621. SKS 4, 137 / FT, 42. Carriere, Die philosophische Weltanschauung der Reformationszeit, p. 620.

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Kierkegaard could not have gleaned the phrase from Carriere, because he could not have read Carriere’s volume until 1847 when it was published. Hong implies that the spirit of the poem sounds like Böhme, and that Kierkegaard could have discovered it in the primary sources by Böhme that he did own. However, no such poem has yet been found in these volumes. One other possible positive influence of Böhme upon Kierkegaard has been suggested. In The Concept of Anxiety vigilius Haufniensis’ description of the relation of possibility to anxiety, freedom, and the fall into sin presupposes an understanding of possibility that may have important roots in Böhme.75 For vigilius possibility is not the latent determinate potentiality for the actualization of a specific outcome or purpose. Rather, possibility involves an indeterminate, and therefore ungrounded, horizon, in which outcomes cannot be interpreted exclusively in terms of the actualization of potentialities. Consequently, the “ground” of possibility is anarchic and can be described as “nothing” definite. It is “nothing” that generates anxiety for vigilius. As David Kangas argues, vigilius’ “nothing,” which makes sin possible, may be derived from Schelling’s notion of an indeterminate, unrepresentable Grund in God, which is really more like an abyss than a ground.76 Schelling’s discussion of the Grund is heavily indebted to the writings of Böhme, so Böhme’s work may be the ultimate or at least penultimate source of vigilius’ account of anxiety. Of course, vigilius jettisons the cosmological and theogonic dimensions of Schelling’s and Böhme’s analysis, and only employs their conceptuality to interpret human psychological dynamics. To conclude, Kierkegaard’s substantive appropriations of Böhme fall into four categories. First, Böhme is treated as forerunner of contemporary speculative philosophy, and therefore is liable to all the criticisms to which speculative philosophy is vulnerable. By situating Böhme in the genealogy of speculative philosophy, Kierkegaard was following the lead of Baader, Schelling, Hegel, and Martensen. Secondly, Böhme is ridiculed by Kierkegaard for regarding sensory, imagistic phenomena as an aspect of religious consciousness. Here Kierkegaard is paralleling the reservations about Böhme’s reliance upon images expressed by Hegel. Thirdly, Böhme is lauded for his authentic religious pathos and his antipathy to worldliness. Here Kierkegaard was affirming those aspects of Böhme’s thought that the theosophist shared with most pietists. Finally, Kierkegaard may have borrowed from Böhme, directly or indirectly through Baader and Schelling, the theme of the ungroundedness of freedom and the indeterminacy of anxiety. Here SKS 4, 347–8, 455 / CA, 41–2, 156. David Kangas, Kierkegaard’s Instant: On Beginnings, Bloomington: Indiana university press 2007, pp. 167–70; Axel Hutter, “Das unvordenkliche der menschlichen Freiheit: zur Deutung der Angst bei Schelling und Kierkegaard,” in Kierkegaard und Schelling: Freiheit, Angst, und Wirklichkeit, ed. by Jochem Hennigfeld and Jon Stewart, Berlin and New York: walter de Gruyter 2003 (Kierkegaard Studies Monograph Series, vol. 8), pp. 117–32; Jochem Hennigfeld, “Angst-Freiheit System: Schellings Freiheitsschrift und Kierkegaard’s Der Begriff Angst,” in Kierkegaard und Schelling, pp. 103–15; vincent A. McCarthy, “Schelling and Kierkegaard on Freedom and Fall,” in The Concept of Anxiety, ed. by Robert L. perkins, Macon, Georgia: Mercer university press 1985 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 8), pp. 89–110. 75 76

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Kierkegaard transposed Böhme’s cosmological speculations into more exclusively psychological categories. Kierkegaard balked at the prospect of locating the source of evil in the necessary unfolding of the inner dynamics of the divine life, for such a metaphysical maneuver would, he feared, undercut the individual’s responsibility for sin and demotivate the self-ascription of guilt. In all of these responses to Böhme, it was the passionately pietist aspect of Böhme that elicited Kierkegaard’s approbation, while it was the cosmological/speculative aspect that triggered his criticism.

Bibliography I. Böhme’s Works in The Auction Catalogue of Kierkegaard’s Library Beschreibung der drey Principien Göttliches Wesens. Das ist Von der ohn Uhrsprung ewigen Gebuhrt der H. Dreyfaltigkeit Gottes und wie durch und aus derselben sind geschaffen worden die Engel so wol die Himmel auch die Sterne und Elementa, sampt allem Creaturlichen Wesen und alles was da lebet und schwebet: Fürnemlich Von dem Menschen worauß er geschaffen worden und zu waserley Ende...; Und dan auch Was der Zorn Gottes (Sünde, Todt, Teufel, und Hölle) sey..., Amsterdam: Betkius 1660 (ASKB 451). Hohe und tieffe Gründe von dem dreyfachen Leben des Menschen, nach dem Geheimnüß der dreyen Principien göttlicher Offenbahrung geschrieben nach göttlicher Erleuchtung durch Jacob Böhmen, sonsten Teutonicus genandt, Amsterdam: Betkius 1660 (ASKB 452). Mysterium magnum, Oder Erklärung über das Erste Buch Mosis Von der Offenbarung Göttlichen Worts durch die drey Principia Göttlichen Wesens auch vom Ursprung der Welt und der Schöpffung. Darinnen Das Reich der Natur und Das Reich der Gnaden erkläret wird..., Amsterdam 1682 (ASKB 453). Christosophia oder Weg zu Christo verfasset in Neun Büchlein, nun in Acht zusammen gezogen, welche handeln Von wahrer Busse, und vom Schlüssel Göttlicher Geheimnisse; vom H. Gebet; von der wahren Gelassenheit; von der Wiedergeburt...: nebst einem Gespräche einer erleuchteten und unerleuchteten Seele; und dan von den vier Complexionen. Gestellet aus Göttlichem Erkentniß durch Jacob Böhmen von Alt-Seidenberg, sonsten teutonicus Philosophus genant. Nebst geistreichen Summarien, Und eine Zugabe der auserlesensten Kernsprüche aus allen Schriften des Autoris...., [no place or publisher are listed, published presumably in Leiden] 1731 (ASKB 454). II. Works in The Auction Catalogue of Kierkegaard’s Library that Discuss Böhme Ast, Friedrich, Grundriss einer Geschichte der Philosophie, Landshut: Joseph Thomann 1807, pp. 339–45 (ASKB 385). Baader, Franz, Ueber den Bli[t]z als Vater des Lichts. Aus einem Schreiben an den geheimen Hofrath von Jung, [Nürnberg 1816], p. 7 (ASKB 391). —— Fermenta Cognitionis, nos. 1–5 in 1 volume, Berlin: G. Reimer 1822–24 (ASKB 394). —— Vorlesungen, gehalten an der Königlich-Bayerischen Ludwig-MaximiliansHochschule über religiöse Philosophie im Gegensatze der irreligiösen, älterer

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und neuer Zeit, vol. 1, Munich: Giel 1827, p. 18, note; p. 26, note; p. 93, note; p. 101, note; pp. 105–6; p. 110 (ASKB 395). —— Ueber das Verhalten des Wissens zum Glauben, Auf Veranlassung eines Programms des Hrn. Abbé Bautain: Enseignement de la Philosophie en France. Strasbourg. 1833, Münster: Theissingsche Buchhandlung 1833 (ASKB 402). —— Über eine bleibende und universelle Geistererscheinung hienieden, Münster: Theissingsche Buchhandlung 1833 (ASKB 403). —— Vorlesungen über eine künftige Theorie des Opfers oder des Kultus, Münster: Theissingsche Buchhandlung 1836 (ASKB 408). —— Ueber den Paulinischen Begriff des Versehenseyns des Menschen im Namen Jesu vor der Welt Schöpfung. Sendeschreiben an den Herrn Professor Molitor in Frankfurt, vols. 1–3, würzburg: In Commission der Stahel’schen Buchhandlung 1837, vol. 1, p. 10; vol. 2, p. 15; vol. 3, p. 8; p. 20; p. 32, note; p. 38; p. 40 (vols. 1–2, ASKB 409–410) (vol. 3, ASKB 413). —— Ueber die Incompetenz unsrer dermaligen Philosophie zur Erklärung der Erscheinungen aus dem Nachgebiete der Natur. Aus einem Sendschreiben an Justinus Kerner, Stuttgart: Fr. Brodhag’sche Buchhandlung 1837 (ASKB 411). —— Revision der Philosopheme der Hegel’schen Schule bezüglich auf das Christenthum. Nebst zehn Thesen aus einer religiösen Philosophie, Stuttgart: S.G. Liesching 1839, pp. 7–8; pp. 13–18; p. 22; p. 24; p. 39; p. 61; p. 115; p. 119; pp. 146–7; pp. 153–4; pp. 170–1; pp. 172–3 (ASKB 416). —— Ueber die Nothwendigkeit einer Revision der Wissenschaft natürlicher, menschlicher und göttlicher Dinge, in Bezug auf die in ihr sich noch mehr oder minder geltend machenden Cartesichen und Spinozistischen Philosopheme, Erlangen: bei J.J. palm und Ernst Enke 1841, pp. 17–29 passim (ASKB 418). Baur, Ferdinand Christian, Die christliche Gnosis oder die christliche ReligionsPhilosophie in ihrer geschichtlichen Entwicklung, Tübingen: C.F. Osiander 1835, p. 6; pp. 557–8; p. 569; p. 577; p. 580; pp. 590–1; p. 599; p. 604; p. 609; p. 626; p. 683; p. 736 (ASKB 421). Bruch, Johann Friedrich, Die Lehre von den göttlichen Eigenschaften, Hamburg: Friedrich perthes 1842, p. 3; p. 104; p. 290 (ASKB 439). Carriere, Moriz, Die philosophische Weltanschauung der Reformationszeit in ihren Beziehungen zur Gegenwart, Stuttgart und Tübingen: Cottascher verlag 1847, pp. 608–725 (ASKB 458). Fichte, Immanuel Hermann, Die speculative Theologie oder allgemeine Religionslehre, Heidelberg: Akademische Buchhandlung von J.C.B. Mohr 1846 (vol. 3, in Grundzüge zum Systeme der Philosophie), pp. 6–7; p. 243; p. 274; pp. 282–3; p. 326; p. 392 (ASKB 509; for vols. 1–2, see ASKB 502–503). Guerike, Heinrich Ernst Ferdinand, Handbuch der Kirchengeschichte, vols. 1–2, 3rd revised and enlarged ed., Halle: in der Gebauerschen Buchhandlung 1838, vol. 2, p. 972; pp. 1050ff. (ASKB 158–159). Günther, Anton and Johann Heinrich pabst, Janusköpfe. Zur Philosophie und Theologie, vienna: wallishausser 1834, p. 346 (ASKB 524). Hahn, August (ed.), Lehrbuch des christlichen Glaubens, Leipzig: Friedrich Christian wilhelm vogel 1828, p. 250 (ASKB 535).

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[Hamann, Johann Georg], Hamann’s Schriften, vols. 1–8, ed. by Friedrich Roth, Berlin: G. Reimer 1821–43, vol. 1, p. 359; vol. 2, p. 75; vol. 3, p. 115; vol. 4, p. 472; vol. 5, p. 179 (ASKB 536–544). Hamberger, Juius, Die Lehre des deutschen Philosophen Jakob Böhme in einem systematischen Auszuge aus dessen sämmtlichen Schriften dargestellt und mit erläuternden Anmerkungen begleitet, Munich: verlag der literarisch-artistischen Anstalt 1844 (ASKB 545). Hase, Karl, Kirkehistorie. Lærebog nærmest for akademiske Forelæsninger, trans. by C. winther and T. Schorn, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1837, p. 484 (ASKB 160–166). Hegel, Georg wilhelm Friedrich, “Jacob Böhme,” in Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel’s Vorlesungen über die Geschichte der Philosophie, vols. 1–3, ed. by Carl Ludwig Michelet, Berlin: Duncker und Humblot 1833–36 (vols. 13–15 in Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel’s Werke. Vollständige Ausgabe, ed. by philipp Marheineke et al., Berlin: Duncker und Humblot 1832–45), vol. 3, pp. 296–327 (ASKB 557–559). —— Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel’s Vorlesungen über die Philosophie der Religion, vols. 1–2, ed. by philipp Marheineke, 2nd revised ed., Berlin: Duncker und Humblot 1840 (vols. 11–12 in Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel’s Werke. Vollständige Ausgabe, ed. by philipp Marheineke et al., Berlin: Duncker und Humblot 1832–45), vol. 2, p. 246; p. 250 (ASKB 564–565). Martensen, Hans Lassen, Mester Eckart. Et Bidrag til at oplyse Middelalderens Mystik, Copenhagen: Reitzels Forlag 1840 (ASKB 649). —— Den christelige Dogmatik, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1849, p. 76; p. 224; p. 250 (ASKB 653). [Münscher, wilhelm], Dr. Wilhelm Münschers Lærebog i den christelige Kirkehistorie, til Brug ved Forelæsninger, trans. by Fred. Münter, revised and ed. by Jens Möller, Copenhagen: Trykt paa universitets-Boghandler F. Brummers Forlag 1831, pp. 257–8 (ASKB 168). Nielsen, Rasmus, Forelæsningsparagrapher til Kirkehistoriens Philosophie. Et Schema for Tilhørere, Copenhagen: p.G. philipsens Forlag 1843, p. 73 (ASKB 698). Rosenkranz, Karl, Schelling. Vorlesungen, gehalten im Sommer 1842 an der Universität zu Königsberg, Danzig: Fr. Sam. Gerhard 1843, p. 303; p. 307 (ASKB 766). [Schlegel, Friedrich], Friedrich Schlegel’s Philosophische Vorlesungen aus den Jahren 1804 bis 1806. Nebst Fragmenten vorzüglich philosophisch-theologischen Inhalts. Aus dem Nachlaß des Verewigten, ed. by C.H.J. windischmann, vols. 1–2, Bonn: Eduard weber 1836–37, vol. 1, pp. 424ff. (ASKB 768–768a). Schopenhauer, Arthur, Die Welt als Wille und Vorstellung, vols. 1–2, Leipzig: F.A. Brockhaus 1844; vol. 1, p. 249, note; vol. 2, p. 610 (ASKB 773–773a). —— Parerga und Paralipomena: kleine philosophische Schriften, vols. 1–2, Berlin: Druck und verlag von A.w. Hayn 1851, vol. 1, p. 23 (ASKB 774–775). Sibbern, Frederik Christian, Speculativ Kosmologie med Grundlag til en speculativ Theologie, Copenhagen: Forfatterens eget Forlag 1846, p. 10 (ASKB 780).

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—— Om Forholdet imellem Sjæl og Legeme, saavel i Almindelighed som i phrenologisk, pathognomonisk, physiogonomisk og ethisk Henseende i Særdeleshed, Copenhagen: paa Forfatterens eget Forlag 1849, p. 226; p. 241 (ASKB 781). Steffens, Henrich, Christliche Religionsphilosophie, vols. 1–2, Breslau: Josef Max 1839, vol. 2, p. 35 (ASKB 797–798). Tennemann, wilhelm Gottlieb, “Böhme,” in his Geschichte der Philosophie, vols. 1–11, Leipzig: Johann Ambrosius Barth 1798–1819, vol. 10, pp. 183–200 (ASKB 815–826). Tiedemann, Dietrich, Geist der spekulativen Philosophie von Thales bis Sokrates, vols. 1–6, Marburg: in der Neuen Akademischen Buchhandlung 1791–97, vol. 5, pp. 525–9 (ASKB 836–841). weiße, Christian Hermann, “Jacob Böhme und seine Bedeutung für unsere zeit. Erster Artikel,” Zeitschrift für Philosophie und spekulative Theologie, vols. 1– 16, ed. by I.H. Fichte and Christian Hermann weiße, Bonn et al.: Eduard weber 1837–46, vol. 14, 1845, pp. 136–160 (ASKB 877–911). —— “Jacob Böhme und seine Bedeutung für unsere zeit. zweiter Artikel,” Zeitschrift für Philosophie und spekulative Theologie, vols. 1–16, ed. by I.H. Fichte and Christian Hermann weiße, Bonn et al.: Eduard weber 1837–46, vol. 16, 1846, pp. 182–218 (ASKB 877–911). —— System der Aesthetik als Wissenschaft von der Idee der Schönheit. In drei Büchern, vols. 1–2, Leipzig: bei C.H.F. Hartmann 1830, vol. 1, p. 194 (ASKB 1379–1380). —— Die Idee der Gottheit. Eine philosophische Abhandlung. Als wissenschaftliche Grundlegung zur Philosophie der Religion, Dresden: Ch.F. Grimmer’sche Buchhandlung 1833, p. 268, note; p. 279; p. 299, note; pp. 367–8 (ASKB 866). wirth, Johann ulrich, “Lehre des Jakob Böhme,” in his Die speculative Idee Gottes und die damit zusammenhängenden Probleme der Philosophie. Eine kritischdogmatische Untersuchung, Stuttgart and Tübingen: J.G. Cotta’scher verlag 1845, pp. 274–87 (ASKB 876). zimmermann, Johann Georg, Ueber die Einsamkeit, vols. 1–4, Leipzig: bey weidmanns Erben und Reich 1784–85, vol. 2, p. 147 (ASKB 917–920). III. Secondary Works on Kierkegaard’s Relation to Böhme Kangas, David J., Kierkegaard’s Instant: On Beginnings, Bloomington: Indiana university press 2007, pp. 9–10; p. 100; p. 102; p. 168; p. 170; p. 176; p. 178; p. 187. O’Regan, Cyril, Gnostic Apocalypse: Jacob Boehme’s Haunted Narrative, Albany, NY: State university of New York press 2002, p. 1; p. 6; p. 45; p. 141. Thulstrup, Marie Mikulová, Kierkegaard og Pietismen, Copenhagen: Munksgaard 1967, p. 15; pp. 53–5. —— “Studies of pietists, Mystics, and Church Fathers,” in Kierkegaard’s View of Christianity, ed. by Niels Thulstrup and Marie Mikulová Thulstrup, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1978 (Bibliotheca Kierkegaardiana, vol. 1), pp. 60–70.

Hans Adolph Brorson: Danish pietism’s Greatest Hymn writer and His Relation to Kierkegaard Christopher B. Barnett

In 1865, Hans Peter Barfod, the first editor of Søren Kierkegaard’s Posthumous Papers, came across an undated fragment among Kierkegaard’s manuscripts, detailing Kierkegaard’s plans for the family burial plot at Assistens Cemetery in Copenhagen. These plans contain a number of suggestions for improvement, ranging from the restoration of the fence bordering the site to the kind of bushes—namely, “Turkish roses”—that should adorn each corner of the burial plot.1 Yet, among these prosaic instructions, Kierkegaard did not fail to include a poetic touch. As his directions make clear, he wanted his tombstone to be adorned with “a little stanza, which may be done in small letters.” It reads: In yet a little while I shall have won; Then the whole fight will all at once be done. Then I may rest In bowers of roses And perpetually And perpetually Speak with my Jesus.2

In contrast to the details given for the arrangement of the burial plot, Kierkegaard says little else about this stanza, which, presumably, held great meaning for him. Rather, he adds a simple parenthetical citation, “By Brorson, no. 231, no. 1 in the section about constancy and growth in the faith.”3 This fragment probably dates from 1846, but, as noted above, it was unknown until Barfod’s discovery in 1865. In the meantime, Kierkegaard had passed away, his body placed in an unmarked grave at the family burial site. However, with not a little prodding, Kierkegaard’s elder brother, Peter Christian Kierkegaard, finally agreed

1 2 3

B&A, vol. 1, p. 20 / LD, Document XIX, pp. 26–7. B&A, vol. 1, p. 20 / LD, Document, XIX, p. 27. Ibid.

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to arrange the plot according to his brother’s wishes.4 That was the year 1874, and soon a tangible memorial to Søren Kierkegaard was erected—one to which “people [now] come from near and far and leave wreaths of flowers.”5 Yet, when people visit Kierkegaard’s burial site and read the words etched on his tombstone, they are not only acknowledging Kierkegaard’s literary legacy, but, perhaps unintentionally, his relationship with the author of that “little stanza,” the Danish bishop and hymn writer, Hans Adolph Brorson. To be sure, it is curious that, given the considerable scope of Kierkegaard’s literary interests, not to mention the more manifest concerns of his authorship, he wanted to unite Brorson’s words with his burial place, “where the dead person calls out the brief word placed upon his grave.”6 would not a saying attributed to Socrates have been more appropriate? Or, for that matter, why did he not select a passage from the Bible? Such questions are intriguing, though, ultimately, they elude definitive answers. In their evasiveness, however, they hint at a task that has been almost entirely ignored in Kierkegaard scholarship—namely, the explanation of the relationship between Kierkegaard and Brorson. Who, indeed, was Hans Adolph Brorson? And in what way did he impact Kierkegaard? The remainder of this essay will aim to address these questions, not only by looking at Brorson’s place in Danish church life, but also by taking note of where his works appear in Kierkegaard’s writings. In the end, it is hoped that Brorson will emerge as a figure who played an important role in Kierkegaard’s life and authorship— a figure, in other words, worthy of the tribute Kierkegaard paid to him. I. During the first half of the eighteenth century, the movement known as Pietism played an important role in Danish social and ecclesial life. Long an influential, if often divisive, force in Germany, pietism began to make inroads in Denmark in 1703, when King Frederik Iv (1671–1730) met with the eminent linguist and ambassador of Halle pietism, Heinrich wilhelm Ludolf.7 Ludolf convinced the king that Pietism’s evangelical fervor would benefit the absolute monarchy as well—a strategy characteristic of the Halle school. Over the next couple of decades, Frederik Iv sponsored Halle missions to Danish territories,8 founded a college for missionaries, and set up various “charity schools” in Copenhagen, including a prominent orphanage in 1727.9 Joakim Garff, Søren Kierkegaard: A Biography, trans. by Bruce H. Kirmmse, princeton, New Jersey: princeton university press 2005, p. 812. 5 Ibid. 6 SKS 7, 214 / CUP1, 235. 7 J. Oskar Andersen, Survey of the History of the Church in Denmark, Copenhagen: O. Lohse 1930, pp. 32–3. 8 Elmo Knudsen, “Die Brüdergemeinde in Dänemark,” in Unitas Fratrum, ed. by Mari p. van Buijtenen, Cornelis Dekker, and Huib Leeuwenberg, utrecht: Rijksarchief 1975 (Herrnhuter Studien), pp. 207–24; p. 207. 9 Andersen, Survey of the History of the Church in Denmark, p. 33. 4

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The king’s son and successor, Christian vI (1699–1746), deepened the relationship between the crown and Halle pietism. under his administration, “the whole state power was placed at disposal for its furtherance.”10 Led by Johannes Bartholomæus Bluhme, Christian vI’s confessor, a series of institutional reforms were introduced during the 1730s.11 These changes aimed to normalize Hallensian teaching in Denmark, and, to that end, sympathetic bishops and clergy were preferred for appointments.12 perhaps the most notable of these appointments was that of the distinguished hymnist, Hans Adolph Brorson (1694–1764), who ascended to the bishopric of Ribe in 1741. Brorson’s rise was not without its share of hardships. Although both his grandfather and father were priests in Randerup, his father died when he was just 10 years old, leaving the family in dire financial circumstances.13 For that reason, Brorson’s mother, Kathrine, married her husband’s successor, Ole Jonæsen Holbæk, who looked after the education of her three sons, Niels, Broder, and Hans Adolph.14 He sent each of them to Latin school in Ribe and, eventually, to the university of Copenhagen in 1712.15 while in Copenhagen, however, Hans Adolph struggled. He took on too many subjects, fell ill for an extended period of time, and subsequently departed Copenhagen without passing his theological examination.16 He returned to his native South Jutland, where he bounced between Randerup and Løgumkloster, working as a priest’s assistant and then as a private tutor.17 During that time, Brorson first encountered pietism. It had entered the region through young, German-trained theological students and then was spread by sympathetic clergy.18 Like his brothers, Brorson was drawn to the movement, which seemed to nourish both his bodily and his spiritual life. He resumed his studies and, in October 1721, completed his theological examination.19 For a time, Brorson served as his stepfather’s successor in Randerup, but, in 1729, he was assigned to another South Jutland parish, Tønder. This was a decisive move for him. while in Tønder, he worked with Johan Herman Schrader, a pietist of Hallensian heritage and, notably, an accomplished hymnist. In 1731, Schrader

Ibid., p. 34. Martin Schwarz Lausten, Danmarks kirkehistorie, Copenhagen: Gyldendalske Boghandel 2004, pp. 183–6. 12 Ibid., p. 184. 13 H. Halling, “Hans Adolph Brorsons Levnetsløb,” in Troens rare Klenodie med SvaneSang: Psalmer og aandelige Sange, by Hans Adolph Brorson, Copenhagen: H.H.J. Lynges Forlag 1879, pp. III–XXXIII; p. III. 14 Ibid., p. Iv. 15 Ibid. 16 L.J. Koch, “Hans Adolph Brorson,” in Dansk Biografisk Leksikon, vols. 1–27, ed. by povl Engelstoft and Svend Dahl, Copenhagen: Schultz Forlag 1933–44, vol. 4, pp. 177–83; p. 178. 17 Ibid. 18 Ibid. 19 Ibid., p. 179. 10 11

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issued a collection of pietist-themed hymns called The Complete Hymnbook or, more popularly, The Tønder Hymnbook.20 L.J. Koch points out its impact on Brorson: when one sees that Brorson appears as a hymn writer precisely the year after [The Complete Hymnbook’s] publication, one cannot get away from the fact that Brorson’s poetry must have received impetus from his meeting with its rich treasure of hymns and the whole of life together with Schrader.21

Indeed, apart from a couple of verses from his student years, Brorson did not issue any hymns until the 1732 collection Some Christmas Hymns.22 Several other booklets followed, and, in 1739, Brorson collected them under the title Faith’s Rare Jewel.23 After his episcopal appointment in 1741, Brorson strove to further Halle’s cause in the Danish state church. As the supervisor of Ribe diocese, he combined a stress on evangelical rebirth with a political interest in the reformation of educational institutions. Typical in this connection was Brorson’s support for the replacement of individual diocesan catechisms with a single, standardizing textbook, Truth for Piety.24 Authored by the Halle pietist, Erik Ludvigsen pontoppidan (1698–1764), Truth for Piety consummated pietism’s rise in the Danish church. Stressing the necessity of repentance and conversion, as well as warning against “the delights of sin,” such as dancing and card playing,25 the new catechism had to be mastered by children, if they were to be confirmed in the church and, therefore, admitted into legal adulthood.26 Thus Pietism was made “official” in Denmark, although not without controversy. Clerics of a more “orthodox” persuasion refrained from using Truth for Piety, and other state church pietists—such as peder Hersleb (1689–1757), bishop of zealand—wanted to amend it.27 That the text survived these disputes was due to sponsors such as Brorson, who “stood unshakeable in his conviction” that Truth for Piety was “of great value for the advancement of Christian living.”28 Brorson’s desire to propagate pietism both through and for the sake of the state church identified him with Halle. However, he was not so committed to the Johan Herman Schrader, Vollständiges Gesang-Buch in einer Sammlung Alter und Neuer Geistreichen Lieder, der Gemeinde Gottes zu Tøndern gewidmet, Tondern: n.p. 1731. 21 Koch, “Hans Adolph Brorson,” p. 179. 22 Hans Adolph Brorson, Nogle Jule-Psalmer, Gud til Ære og Christne Siæle, i sær siin elskelige Meenighed til Opmuntring, Til den forestaaende Glædelige Jule-Fest eenfoldig og i Hast sammenskrevne, Tondern: n.p. 1732. 23 Hans Adolph Brorson, Troens Rare Klenodie, i nogle Aandelige Sange, Copenhagen: Frantz Christian Mumme 1739. (Kierkegaard owned a later edition of this book, Troens rare Klenodie med Svane-Sang. Psalmer og aandelige Sange, ed. by L.C. Hagen, Copenhagen: H.H.I. Lynge 1834 (ASKB 199)). 24 Erik pontoppidan, Sandhed til Gudfrygtighed, udi en eenfoldig Forklaring og efter Muelighed kort, dog tilstrekkelig Forklaring over Sal. Doct. Morten Luthers Liden Catechismo, Copenhagen: waysenhuses Bogtrykkerie 1737. 25 Lausten, Danmarks kirkehistorie, p. 184. 26 Ole Feldbæk, Den lange fred: 1700–1800, Copenhagen: Gyldendalske Boghandel 1990 (Gyldendal og Politikens Danmarkshistorie, vol. 9), p. 182. 27 L.J. Koch, “Hans Adolph Brorson,” p. 180. 28 Ibid. 20

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Hallensian approach that he failed to find value in other Pietist expressions—in particular, Moravian pietism or Herrnhutism. Travelling northward from Herrnhut, a “citadel” in Saxony organized according to pietist habits and practices, Moravian emissaries first came to Denmark in 1727.29 They hoped to establish similar colonies in Denmark and in its foreign territories, but concerns about the Moravians’ ties to nonconformist lay pietists encouraged the crown to favor Halle pietism.30 Still, Moravian representatives remained quietly active within Denmark’s borders, holding small meetings in Copenhagen and, often with the support of sympathetic Hallensian priests, working among pietist groups in the countryside.31 Brorson might be considered one of these priests, although, as a prominent representative of the state, he was in a precarious position. with increasing severity, royal ordinances of 1741, 1744, 1745, and 1746 sought to curtail the influence of German Pietism in Denmark. Danish citizens were forbidden to visit German meetings, and, eventually, the kingdom was closed to German pietist emissaries.32 Brorson was bound to uphold these laws, even as he admired the “spiritual quality”33 of the Herrnhuters. Already disposed to melancholy, this conflict threw Brorson into a “deep spiritual trial.”34 In 1746, Brorson admitted to Andreas Grassmann, a Moravian itinerant, that he was “depressed and deeply torn,” because he “had to obey the severe edicts restricting Moravian preaching, at the same time as he has always been a friend to the Moravians.”35 He even wondered if he was committing the “unforgivable sin” of obstructing the work of the Holy Spirit.36 Although Brorson’s precise location on the theological spectrum is debatable,37 a fondness for Moravian pietism is evident in his hymns as well. whereas Halle pietists maintained that a “struggle for penance” (Bußkampf) necessarily precedes Christian rebirth (Wiedergeburt), the leader of Moravian pietism, Count Nikolaus Ludwig von Zinzendorf (1700–60), accentuated the priority of Christ’s sacrifice on the cross. As he saw it, faith does not issue from a sense of personal abandonment and/or impiety, but, rather, from a true recognition of Christ crucified. Thus the goal of the Christian speaker or teacher is to bring the “wounds” of Christ before the “eyes of the heart,” whereby the heart, in a mysterious “inward vision,” might come

Knudsen, “Die Brüdergemeinde in Dänemark,” pp. 208–9. Andersen, Survey of the History of the Church in Denmark, p. 34. 31 Knudsen, “Die Brüdergemeine in Dänemark,” p. 212. 32 Anders pontoppidan Thyssen, De ældre jyske vækkelser: Brødremenigheden i Christiansfeld og herrnhutismen i Jylland til o. 1815, Copenhagen: Gads Forlag 1967 (Vækkelsernes Frembrud i Danmark i første Halvdel af det 19. Århundrede, vol. 4), pp. 19–20. 33 L.J. Koch, “Hans Adolph Brorson,” p. 180. 34 Ibid. 35 Andrew Burgess, “Kierkegaard, Brorson, and Moravian Music,” in Practice in Christianity, ed. by Robert L. perkins, Macon, Georgia: Mercer university press 2004 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 20), pp. 211–43; p. 226. 36 Ibid. Also see, for example, Mt 12:30–32; Mk 3:28–29; Lk 12:10. 37 Ibid., pp. 226–7. 29 30

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to love him in faith.38 Similarly, in pieces such as “I See Jesus before My Eyes,” Brorson attends to the scene on Good Friday, so that one “will look, as far as [one] can, into Jesus’ state of torment.”39 At times, he employs graphic imagery, but, for Brorson, the “bloody wounds” of Christ, in and of themselves, are not the object of devotion. Rather, it is the loving and reconciling nature they reveal: Thus is to know Jesus’ heart, which was opened with a spear, That his heart’s open side May be the heart of my heart’s joy; Here is room and heart enough For the whole world’s flock, O! I wish all hearts’ hearts Would find this heart.40

Here the “heart” imagery is striking and, again, reminiscent of Moravian piety. It is the heart of Christ that melts the heart of the sinner, resulting, finally, in his or her surrender to God. Brorson’s Moravian sympathies were to impact his legacy. with Christian vI’s death in 1746, state church pietism began to wane. Christian vI’s son and successor, Frederik v (1723–66), was not inclined toward pietism, and, gradually, Hallensian religiosity lost “the favor and the protection”41 of the royal court. As a result, the Danish public, particularly those among the upper classes, began to manifest an antipathy toward pietist austerity, celebrating, in the words of the great Scandinavian homme de lettres, Ludvig Holberg (1684–1754), the “blissful rule” of the new king.42 Restrictions against amusements were eased, and a “growing religious indifference appeared.”43 The age of Enlightenment, with its scepticism regarding traditional Christian doctrine and its faith in unaided human reason, was dawning over Denmark. It demanded that the state church move in the direction of rationalism—a trajectory that meant that Halle pietism’s “role, on the whole, was spent by around 1760.”44 This development meant that, subsequent to his death in 1764 and to the publication of his last hymns in 1765,45 Brorson’s legacy was cultivated primarily among lay pietists such as the Moravians. Indeed, the Enlightenment did not so much weaken Danish pietism as encourage it to evolve. It had been managed in and by the state church, but, in the final decades of the eighteenth century, it fell under peter vogt, “Nicholas Ludwig von zinzendorf (1700–1760),” in The Pietist Theologians: An Introduction to Theology in the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries, ed. by Carter Lindberg, Oxford: Blackwell 2005 (The Great Theologians), pp. 207–23; pp. 212–13. 39 Hans Adolph Brorson, Troens rare Klenodie med Svane-Sang: Psalmer og aandelige Sange, Copenhagen: H.H.J. Lynges Forlag 1879, p. 48. 40 Ibid., p. 50. Interestingly, Kierkegaard himself makes a brief, but approving, comment on Brorson’s use of “wounds” imagery. See SKS 21, 243, NB9:70a. 41 Lausten, Danmarks kirkehistorie, p. 192. 42 Ibid. 43 Andersen, Survey of the History of the Church in Denmark, p. 35. 44 Lausten, Danmarks kirkehistorie, p. 192. 45 Hans Adolph Brorson, Svane-Sang, Copenhagen: n.p. 1765. 38

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the province of the laity and a few “old-fashioned” clerics—a process furthered, ironically, by the Enlightenment’s extension of religious freedoms. Thus lay pietism became a vehicle for the newfound “individualism and self-assertiveness of the peasantry,”46 who were beginning “to emancipate [themselves] spiritually from the guardianship of church and theology.”47 Kierkegaard’s own interest in Brorson stems from this outcome. His father, Michael pedersen Kierkegaard (1756–1838), grew up in the west Jutland village of Sædding, where a number of local priests and Moravian emissaries fostered a pietist revival.48 It was, as Jørgen Bukdahl explains, a place where the traditional hymns of Thomas Kingo and Brorson were cherished, and pontoppidan’s catechism followed rigorously.49 Despite relocating to Copenhagen around 1768, Michael pedersen never abandoned this sort of Christianity. He affiliated himself with Pietist pastors such as Hans Sørensen Lemming (1707–78) and peder Saxtorph of Nicolai Church,50 and, in the last decades of his life, he became one of the leaders of Copenhagen’s Moravian society (Brødresocietet), whose Sunday evening meetings attracted hundreds and hundreds of persons during the 1820s.51 Often accompanying Michael pedersen to these gatherings were his sons, peter Christian and Søren Aabye. There they heard the society’s leader, Johannes Christian Reuss, give upbuilding talks about Christ’s offer of “help, comfort, strength and encouragement in order to live for him and proclaim his death by a course of life in humility, love and according to his mind and heart.”52 Moreover, they almost certainly participated in a variety of Moravian liturgical practices,53 including the singing of hymns. According to Andrew Burgess, that was one important way that Kierkegaard became acquainted with Brorson’s hymnody. with their Moravian-like stress on the joyful redemption found in Christ’s cross, Brorson’s songs often made their way into the “Singing Hour” (German, Singstunde; Danish, Syngetime) of Denmark’s Moravians, along with works by hymnists such as zinzendorf, Lorenz praetorious, and Jonathan Briant.54 Bruce H. Kirmmse, Kierkegaard in Golden Age Denmark, Bloomington, Indiana: Indiana university press 1990 (Indiana Series in the Philosophy of Religion), pp. 40–1. 47 Andersen, Survey of the History of the Church in Denmark, p. 36. 48 Thyssen, De ældre jyske vækkelser, p. 18. 49 Jørgen Bukdahl, Søren Kierkegaard: Hans Fader og Slægten i Sædding, Ribe: Dansk Hjemstavns Forlag 1960, pp. 18–19. 50 peter Tudvad, Kierkegaards København, Copenhagen: politikens Forlag 2006, p. 396. 51 Kaj Baagø, Vækkelse og Kirkeliv i København og Omegn, Copenhagen: Gads Forlag 1960 (Vækkelsernes Frembrud i Danmark i første Halvdel af det 19. Århundrede, vol. 1), pp. 20–4. 52 Ibid., pp. 23–4. 53 unfortunately, the Copenhagen Brødresocietet did not preserve records of its particular liturgical life. However, there was little need to do so, since Moravian worship services everywhere were ordered according to the direction of Herrnhut. As Nicole Schatull explains, “The worship service meetings of the Brethren were not accidental and constantly developing in new ways, but ritualized and conventionalized.” See N. Schatull, Die Liturgie in der Herrnhuter Brüdergemeine Zinzendorfs, Tübingen: Francke verlag 2005, p. 198. 54 Burgess, “Kierkegaard, Brorson, and Moravian Music,” pp. 234–5. 46

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And yet, Kierkegaard’s relation to Brorson did not end with these encounters. As will be shown, he had an intimate knowledge of and a deep appreciation for Brorson’s poetry, so much so that Brorson’s lyrics make a number of appearances in Kierkegaard’s authorship. Moreover, it will be seen that Brorson’s work served as a thematic touchstone for Kierkegaard, articulating motifs in verse that Kierkegaard was to develop in prose. II. In a pair of 1849 journal entries, Kierkegaard comments that Brorson’s hymns belong to “the hymnody of an earlier period.”55 They are, he says, “old” hymns.56 As Marie Thulstrup points out, these are not mere chronological references, but, rather, “qualitative” assessments.57 They indicate that Kierkegaard viewed Brorson as an “authority,” whose works demand humble attention before dialectical analysis.58 Further, they also connect Brorson to other devotional writers in the pietist tradition— writers whom Kierkegaard saw in similar fashion. Indeed, upbuilding literature—or, in the idiom of German scholarship, Erbauungsliteratur—played a central role in the pietist movement. The so-called “father of pietism,” Lutheran pastor Johann Arndt (1555–1621), dedicated much of his literary activity to the retrieval and popularization of medieval devotional writings, which he called “old, short little books that lead to a holy life.”59 Through him Catholic writers such as Johannes Tauler, the Frankfurter (author of the Theologia deutsch), and Thomas à Kempis entered the pietist canon.60 Moreover, Arndt’s own True Christianity61 developed these sources in a protestant direction, thereby initiating a wave of pietist Erbauungsliteratur. Kierkegaard himself was a great collector of this literature.62 Yet, the pertinent point here is that, in addition to Brorson’s hymnody, Kierkegaard underlined the venerability of these devotional

SKS 21, 232, NB9:54 / JP 6, 6316. Also see SKS 21, 231, NB9:53 / JP 6, 6315. SKS 21, 231, NB9:53 / JP 6, 6315; SKS 21, 232, NB9:54 / JP 6, 6316. 57 Marie Mikulová Thulstrup, Kierkegaard og Pietismen, Copenhagen: Munksgaard 1967 (Søren Kierkegaard Selskabets Populære Skrifter, vol. 12), p. 17. 58 Ibid. 59 Quoted from Christian Braw, Bücher im Staube: Die Theologie Johann Arndts in ihrem Verhältnis zur Mystik, Leiden: Brill 1985 (Studies in Medieval and Reformation Thought, vol. 39), p. 43. 60 Ibid.; Johannes wallmann, “Johann Arndt und die protestantische Frömmigkeit: zur Rezeption der mittelalterlichen Mystik im Luthertum,” in Frömmigkeit in der Frühen Neuzeit: Studien zur religiösen Literatur des 17. Jahrhunderts in Deutschland, ed. by Dieter Breuer, Amsterdam: Rodopi 1984, pp. 50–74; pp. 62ff. 61 Johann Arndt, Vier Bücher Von wahrem Christenthumb, Heilsamer Busse, Hertzlicher Rewe vnnd Leid vber die Sünde vnd wahrem Glauben: Auch heiligem Leben vnd Wandel der rechten wahren Christen, revised ed., vols. 1–4, Magdeburg: bey Johan Francken 1610–15. 62 See, for example, Niels Jørgen Cappelørn, “Kierkegaard som bogkøber og bogsamler” in Tekstspejle: Om Søren Kierkegaard som bogtilrettelægger, boggiver og bogsamler, Esbjerg: Rosendahls Forlag 2002, pp. 105–219; pp. 135–7. 55 56

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texts, too. For example, he cites the Theologia deutsch as an “old devotional book,”63 and he repeatedly says the same of Arndt’s masterwork.64 As he writes in the 1844 upbuilding discourse, “The Thorn in the Flesh,” True Christianity is an “old, timehonored, and trustworthy devotional book.”65 That Kierkegaard venerated many of the writings in the pietist literary tradition illuminates, albeit paradoxically, the peculiar esteem in which he held Brorson. As Kierkegaard well knew, Brorson’s hymnody adopted themes also present in other pietist writings. Thus its appeal did not lie so much in the what as in the how. Brorson was (and is) Denmark’s principal connection to the pietist tradition.66 Both figuratively and literally, he translated the spirituality of persons such as Arndt and zinzendorf into the Danish tongue. Equally importantly, he did so with the skill of a “born artist,” who “plays with meter,” produces “rhyme with ease,” and scatters “blooms of colorful images”—all with “a flowing lightness and a resonant tone of language.”67 No scoffer at literary talent, Kierkegaard could turn to Brorson and find key devotional themes set down in memorable Danish verse. So it is not surprising that, when Kierkegaard himself wrote about or developed such motifs, he frequently drew on Brorson. In the journals, Kierkegaard often uses Brorson’s verse to help flesh out an idea or a mood. In a series of 1849 entries, he returns to the first stanza of Brorson’s “what Do You See, My Shulammite.” This hymn is a variation on the theme of the bridegroom’s dialogue with the bride, exemplified in the biblical book, the Song of Solomon. Thus it is a theme with Hebrew roots, although the Christian tradition— particularly in mystical literature—has interpreted the bridegroom as Christ and the bride as the church or as the individual believer.68 Brorson’s poem begins with the bridegroom addressing the bride, whom he calls “Shulammite” (Sulamith) after the Song of Solomon:69 SKS 5, 105 / EUD, 98. Also see SKS 18, 194, JJ:168 / KJN 2, 179–80. SKS 6, 214 / SLW, 230. SKS 7, 418 / CUP1, 460. SKS 8, 206 / UD, 102. SKS 23, 274f, NB18:39 / JP 4, 4926. 65 SKS 5, 333 / EUD, 344. 66 See Bengt Hoffman, “Lutheran Spirituality,” in Exploring Christian Spirituality: An Ecumenical Reader, ed. by Kenneth J. Collins, Grand Rapids Michigan: Baker 2000, pp. 122–37; pp. 134–5. 67 Koch, “Hans Adolph Brorson,” p. 181. 68 Bernard McGinn calls the Song of Solomon “the mystical book par excellence,” which, for interpreters such as Origen, was “the supreme expression of the love of God for his community and for each person within it” (McGinn, The Essential Writings of Christian Mysticism, ed. by Bernard McGinn, New York: The Modern Library 2006, p. 4). Another great Christian expositor of the Song of Solomon was the twelfth-century abbot, Bernard of Clairvaux. See, for example, Bernard of Clairvaux, Selected Works, ed. by G.R. Evans, New York: paulist press 1987 (The Classics of Western Spirituality), especially pp. 207–8. Not insignificantly, Bernard was an important influence on Pietism, along with other medieval figures such as Tauler and Thomas à Kempis. A third commentator on the Song of Solomon was the French Quietist, Madame Guyon (1648–1717), who came to influence Pietist contemporaries such as Gerhard Tersteegen. 69 Song 6:13. 63 64

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Christopher B. Barnett what do you see my Shulammite, As the air is still so full With the shivering cold of winter snow? why do you open the window And gaze all upon the cloud’s crest, why do you do it so often, My Shulammite?70

In the midst of what was a “dreadful year, an annus horribilis,”71 Kierkegaard was captivated by Brorson’s depiction of the bitter scene and of the Shulammite’s expectancy. Brorson’s “winter snow,” he writes, does not tumble down, but, rather, “stalls and torments in the air.”72 In that way, Brorson shows how “cares, worries, [and] troubles” are always hardest in “possibility.”73 It is a scene filled with apprehension, but, Kierkegaard later adds, it hints at something far worse—a life of looming hardship. “when a day has miserable winter weather, one will not want to go out—and now when an entire life like that lies before one, and the question is whether to go out in it!”74 And yet, in a third journal entry, Kierkegaard suggests a way out of this dilemma. The severity of the icy weather, the oppressiveness of life’s burdens, only distresses the one who waits impatiently. As he writes, “But ‘to open the window’ is an image of impatience; the patient person does not sit by the window, he always has enough work, or he sits by the window, then goes about his work and does not look out the window.”75 The patient person is “turned inwards,” the impatient “turned outwards.”76 Here Kierkegaard begins to appropriate the hymn. In fact, as a fourth entry makes clear, he wanted to “weave it into a lyrical commentary”77 of his own: There is the case of an old hymn in which the soul (the bride) is portrayed as having become impatient, and, no longer able to carry on in the suffering of life, it impatiently waits for the hour of deliverance. Christ is portrayed as speaking to the bride and saying: “As the air is still so full With the shivering cold of winter snow?”78 Consequently it is still midwinter, it is a long time yet until spring, therefore it is impatience to want to have spring now, there is much more to endure before the hour of deliverance comes, in fact the suffering perhaps has just now really begun.79 Brorson, Troens rare Klenodie med Svane-Sang, p. 404. Garff, Søren Kierkegaard: A Biography, p. 641. 72 SKS 22, 221, NB12:132. 73 Ibid. 74 SKS 22, 388, NB14:75. 75 SKS 22, 410, NB14:109. 76 Ibid. 77 SKS 21, 232, NB9:54 / JP 6, 6316. 78 The Hongs’ translation of this couplet strives to preserve Brorson’s rhyme scheme, but, in doing so, forgoes accuracy. Thus I have altered the lines here, so as to agree with my translation above. 79 SKS 21, 232, NB9:54 / JP 6, 6316. 70 71

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Kierkegaard then adds, “[T]he bride is portrayed as sitting by the window, opening the window; but anyone who opens the window at that time of year is waiting impatiently, is asking every hour, every minute for a change. And it is still midwinter.”80 Kierkegaard understands how one, longing for eternal rest, will sigh in the face of life’s cares. Yet, in contrast to Brorson, he suggests that such a sigh may signal despair. Thus he recalls The Sickness unto Death’s analysis of “despair over the earthly”—an analysis that also appeared in 1849. In particular, he points to AntiClimacus’ comments on the “weaker” form of “not willing to be oneself,” whereby one waits for external help, for the disappearance of “gloomy possibility,” rather than choose “the inward way along which [one] should have advanced in order truly to become a self.”81 The above sequence of journal entries shows Kierkegaard refining his own thoughts by way of Brorson’s hymnody—an exercise that turns up in other journal entries. In one 1848 passage, he outlines seven discourses for the Friday communion, which are to be collected under the title, From on High He Will Draw All Men to Himself.82 Significantly, this gospel theme83 already had been treated by Brorson in hymns such as “Draw me, Jesus”: “Draw me, Jesus, ever after you, / And I follow with longing, / Since you, O Jesus, left the world’s throng.”84 Kierkegaard notes that this petition “can be said by various people,” whether “[p]arents on behalf of the baby” or the “sufferer in his last hours.”85 with regard to the latter example, he adds lines from another Brorson piece, “Now! I Have Won”: “Oft filled / With tears, / I now the last / Can see.”86 This reference seems impromptu. Kierkegaard does not quote the hymn precisely, which implies that he recollected it from memory. However, his allusion to “Draw me, Jesus” signaled an abiding interest. Indeed, in an 1849 entry, he ponders the ninth stanza of Brorson’s “So Come, O Jesus.” This hymn, too, makes use of the “drawing” motif: when all the world’s comfort is dead, Then be the more sweet to me, O Jesus, poor sinners’ friend, O draw me wholly to you.87

Kierkegaard remarks that it would be “rhetorically beautiful and moving” to “lyrically but briefly exegete” these lines at the end of a discourse.88 As an example, he then adds, “[A]nd so it will in fact be, yes, so it has to be; for when the vinegar poured for us gets more sour and the gall more bitter, the tiniest bit of [divine] comfort...becomes

80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88

ibid. SKS 11, 170 / SUD, 55. SKS 21, 77, NB7:4 / JP 6, 6245. Jn 12:32. Brorson, Troens rare Klenodie med Svane-Sang, p. 69. SKS 21, 77, NB7:4 / JP 6, 6245. Ibid. Also see Brorson, Troens rare Klenodie med Svane-Sang, pp. 359–60. Brorson, Troens rare Klenodie med Svane-Sang, p. 130. SKS 21, 231, NB9:53 / JP 6, 6315.

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twice as sweet.”89 Although here he does not comment on “drawing” explicitly, he continues to register an interest in the theme and, again, connects it with Brorson. For that reason, this entry stands as another precursor to Practice in Christianity (1850) whose third part, as will be seen, concerns the “drawing” motif. Kierkegaard considered writing other commentaries on Brorson’s hymns—an 1850 passage, for instance, shows him experimenting with a late Brorson piece, which depicts the Christian walking “now through bogs, now gardens of roses”90— but sometimes he preferred to let them stand alone. An 1848 entry simply quotes two lines from Brorson’s “Come Holy Spirit”: “That heaven is my purpose, / And the way is constancy.”91 Similarly, in an 1851 note, Kierkegaard cites a brief Brorson couplet: “Surrender yourself to it / And then you will be free.”92 This verse, he adds in parentheses, is “the secret of the cross.”93 That Kierkegaard refrained from expounding these quotations is significant. As Marie Thulstrup notes, it is a sign that he found them “apposite”94—perhaps the highest compliment he could pay to a fellow author. Kierkegaard’s published writings also testify to his affinity for Brorson, referencing time and again a handful of themes. First, and most commonly, Kierkegaard integrates Brorson’s hymn “I walk in Danger, where I walk”95 into his writings. This practice begins as early as “To preserve One’s Soul in patience”96 (1844) and turns up as late as Christian Discourses (1848).97 A characteristic reference comes in Stages on Life’s Way, where Frater Taciturnus marvels at the mystery of the religious life: A religious person is always joyful. This is the most glorious statement made in the world—that is, if it is true that no one, no one on earth or in heaven knows what danger is and what it is to be in danger as does the religious person, who knows that he is always in danger. Thus he who truthfully and simultaneously can say that he is always in danger and always joyful is saying simultaneously the most disheartening and the most highminded words spoken.98

Here Taciturnus only alludes to Brorson’s hymn. However, he then connects it to one of his own memorable images: “[W]here is the right place [to be joyful]? It is—in danger. To be joyful out on 70,000 fathoms of water, many, many miles from all human help—yes, that is something great. To swim in the shallows in the company of

89 90

p. 402. 91

p. 78. 92

p. 258.

Ibid. SKS 23, 31, NB15:43 / JP 6, 6575; Brorson, Troens rare Klenodie med Svane-Sang, SKS 20, 355, NB4:148 / JP 5, 6129; Brorson, Troens rare Klenodie med Svane-Sang, SKS 24, 162, NB22:108 / JP 6, 6711; Brorson, Troens rare Klenodie med Svane-Sang,

SKS 24, 162, NB22:108 / JP 6, 6711. Marie Mikulová Thulstrup, Kierkegaard og Pietismen, p. 17. 95 Brorson, Troens rare Klenodie med Svane-Sang, pp. 208–9. 96 SKS 5, 187 / EUD, 183. 97 SKS 10, 32 / CD, 20. 98 SKS 6, 433 / SLW, 470. Johannes Climacus also mentions “I walk in Danger, where I walk.” See SKS 7, 35 / CUP1, 28. 93 94

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waders is not the religious.”99 Once again, Kierkegaard preserves a core Brorsonian insight, but expands on it, stamping it with a fresh style and intention. Kierkegaard scatters other Brorson citations in his writings. The image of “tuning the harp of joy,” set down in the well-known hymn “In This Sweet Christmastime,”100 appears in three works.101 However, as alluded to earlier, none of these references is as important as Practice in Christianity’s appropriation of the “drawing” motif. Further evidence that Kierkegaard associated this theme with Brorson is found in an 1847 journal entry. In a sketch for a “Friday sermon,” which prefigured Kierkegaard’s plan to collect a series of discourses on Christ’s “drawing” power, he writes: He is lifted up—he has to be if he is to draw—lifted up with the Father and he draws to himself. In this hour he is indeed closer to earth, present at the altar, but he is there only in order to draw. Yes, draw us wholly unto yourself. Let thoughts etc. (from an old hymn). There is so much that resists and holds us back (to be developed); therefore draw us.102

The first poetic line is from Brorson’s “So Come, O Jesus,” while the mention of “thoughts” points to the second stanza of “Draw in through Your Gates”—another Brorson hymn that uses the language of “drawing.”103 However, in the first exposition of Practice in Christianity’s third and final section, “From on High He Will Draw All to Himself,” Kierkegaard omits the latter line: You have come here today because you feel drawn to him, but from this it does not follow that you dare to think that he has already drawn you wholly to himself. Lord, increase my faith. The person who prayed this prayer was not an unbeliever but a believer; so also with this prayer, “Lord, draw me wholly to yourself.” The person who will pray this prayer aright must already feel himself drawn.104 SKS 6, 433 / SLW, 470. Also see SKS 6, 411 / SLW, 444, and SKS 6, 439 / SLW, 477. In his second discourse of 1843, entitled “Love will Hide a Multitude of Sins,” Kierkegaard finds another Brorson couplet dealing with the religious juxtaposition of danger and joy: “Through the arrows of sin / Into the repose of paradise.” (SKS 5, 84 / EUD, 75) Kierkegaard comments, “[w]hen [love] has intercepted all the arrows in its heart and is wounded by them, it no longer sees them but sees only love and the blessedness of paradise.” (SKS 5, 84 / EUD, 75) The hymn in question is Brorson’s “Fly, My Spirit, and Go with Force.” See Brorson, Troens rare Klenodie med Svane-Sang, pp. 249–50. 100 Brorson, Troens rare Klenodie med Svane-Sang, pp. 8–9. 101 SKS 5, 326 / EUD, 338; SKS 5, 414 / TD, 36; SKS 10, 165 / CD, 157. There is a further, albeit minor, reference to Brorson in “To Need God Is a Human Being’s Highest perfection (1844).” See SKS 5, 291 / EUD, 297. 102 SKS 20, 233, NB2:247 / JP 1, 311. 103 Brorson, Troens rare Klenodie med Svane-Sang, p. 69. 104 SKS 12, 159 / PC, 156. These are, in fact, Kierkegaard’s words, since Anti-Climacus notes that “[t]his discourse was delivered by Magister Kierkegaard in Frue Church on Friday, September 1, 1848” (SKS 12, 159n / PC, 151). Anti-Climacus adds that Kierkegaard’s authorial responsibility accounts for the “more lenient tone” of the first exposition—a tone that, for the sake of symmetry, he himself has replicated in the seventh and final exposition (SKS 12, 159n / PC, 151). 99

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Still, no matter how Practice in Christianity makes use of these hymns, it remains Kierkegaard’s most sustained development of Brorson. Indeed, that Kierkegaard wanted to publish a meditation on Brorson’s writings has been seen. He came closest to realizing that goal in “From on High He will Draw All to Himself,” whose very theme is a nod to the hymnist’s legacy. A final Brorson reference is especially significant for where it is used. Kierkegaard employed the twelfth stanza of “up! All Things That God Has Made”105 as an epigraph to the posthumously published The Point of View for My Work as an Author: What shall I to say? No weight My poor words have, like crumbs. O God, your wisdom is so great, Your goodness, power, your royal realm.106

This quotation displays the apophatic tendencies typical of pietism107—tendencies that, as David Law has demonstrated, Kierkegaard shared.108 For pietists such as Brorson, as for inheritors such as Kierkegaard, the upshot of Christian doctrine is not mastery over certain propositions, but, rather, utter humility before the divine. The Brorson epigraph, then, suggests that Kierkegaard was contrasting his authorial sensibility with that of persons such as Hans Lassen Martensen (1808–84), whose fêted Dogmatics109 appeared soon after Kierkegaard completed The Point of View. The above survey discusses Kierkegaard’s explicit use of Brorson in his published writings. However, it is also significant that one of the most important themes in Kierkegaard’s authorship—the imitation of Christ—has an implicit relation to Brorson’s hymnody. Indeed, in the fourth part of Faith’s Rare Jewel, Brorson dedicates an entire section to “The Imitation of Christ and the Denial of the world” (Om Christi Efterfølgelse og Verdens Fornegtelse), wherein he urges people to “be Brorson, Troens rare Klenodie med Svane-Sang, pp. 97–8. SV1 XIII, 516 / PV, 22. 107 See, for instance, Albert Outler, “protestant Spirituality: Orthodoxy and piety in Modernity: pietism and Enlightenment: Alternatives to Tradition,” in Christian Spirituality: Post-Reformation and Modern, ed. by Louis Dupré and Don E. Saliers, London: SCM 1990, pp. 240–56; pp. 248–9. 108 David R. Law, Kierkegaard as Negative Theologian, Oxford: Clarendon press 1993. Law expresses some surprise that, while Kierkegaard’s writings exhibit the tendencies of a negative theologian, he was not familiar with many of apophaticism’s key representatives. Instead, Kierkegaard preferred “the medieval mystics”—indeed, precisely those (for example, Tauler, Thomas à Kempis) that had links to pietism. However, Law does not call attention to this connection. Moreover, when explaining that Kierkegaard’s knowledge of Neoplatonic mysticism came partly from Gottfried Arnold’s Impartial History of Churches and Heretics (Gottfrid Arnolds Unparteyische Kirchen- und Ketzer-Historie vom Anfang des Neuen Testaments biß auff das Jahr Christi 1688, vols. 1–2, Frankfurt am Main: Fritsch 1699–1700), he fails to note that Arnold was one of the more notable figures of the Pietist movement. See ibid., pp. 24–5, 31–2. 109 Hans Lassen Martensen, Den christelige Dogmatik, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1849. 105 106

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awake, yearn for, fight for, search for the true path of Jesus.”110 Significantly, this path is a “dangerous” one,111 and so, “in profound humility,” the believer must “wholly sink down into the grace of our Lord Jesus.”112 Only in that way can he or she “imitate Jesus rightly” and, in turn, “love [the] neighbour faithfully, [and] seek each other’s best in everything.”113 Here Brorson’s language is characteristically pietist, inasmuch as he draws on the Taulerian motif of “sinking,” but associates it with the New Testament category of “grace.” The result, in either case, is an emphasis on the theme of imitatio Christi. As Brorson states, “The footprints of Jesus are the only way to the glory of heaven, / And the one who will not consider this, / The one who knows nothing of the fear of God, / All his wisdom, all his talent, all his work are in vain.”114 Kierkegaard’s own turn to the theme of imitatio Christi has elicited attention in the secondary literature—and not a little criticism in turn.115 Yet, Brorson’s hymnody casts needed light on the issue, contextualizing Kierkegaard’s later promotion of the imitation of Christ. Indeed, far from adopting the imitatio motif arbitrarily or eccentrically, Kierkegaard actually was situating himself within a tradition, which not only goes back to the Bible itself,116 but finds remarkable stress in the edificatory literature of medieval monastics and post-Reformation pietists. As noted previously, some of the most significant figures in that tradition are Tauler, Thomas à Kempis, Arndt, and Tersteegen. However, among Danish pietists, Brorson outshone them all. In the end, then, perhaps it is not so surprising that Kierkegaard chose to adorn his tombstone with Brorson’s words. what is extraordinary, however, is how Kierkegaard did so: In yet a little while I shall have won; Then the whole fight will all at once be done. Then I may rest In bowers of roses And perpetually And perpetually Speak with my Jesus.

Brorson, Troens rare Klenodie med Svane-Sang, p. 217. Ibid., p. 219. 112 Ibid., p. 217. 113 Ibid. 114 Ibid., p. 216. 115 A particularly pointed critique has been made by Marie Mikulová Thulstrup. See her “Kierkegaard’s Dialectic of Imitation,” in A Kierkegaard Critique: An International Selection of Essays Interpreting Kierkegaard, ed. by Howard A. Johnson and Niels Thulstrup, New York: Harper and Brothers 1962, pp. 266–85. For a more positive appraisal, see, for example, Bradley R. Dewey, The New Obedience: Kierkegaard on Imitating Christ, washington: Corpus 1968. 116 For an analysis of the imitatio motif’s biblical roots, see, for example, E.J. Tinsley, The Imitation of God in Christ: An Essay on the Biblical Basis of Christian Spirituality, London: SCM press 1960. 110 111

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Here, as was his wont, Kierkegaard uses Brorson to articulate the “struggling” nature of Christian discipleship. But, at last, there is more. The hymn at Kierkegaard’s burial place also speaks of the goal of Christian existence, of its mystical beatitude. Thus Kierkegaard ensured that his final words, forever “sounding” from the grave, were happy ones.

Bibliography I. Brorson’s Works in The Auction Catalogue of Kierkegaard’s Library Troens rare Klenodie with Svane-Sang. Psalmer og aandelige Sange, ed. by L.C. Hagen, Copenhagen: H.H.I. Lynge 1834 (ASKB 199). Psalmer og aandelige Sange, 2nd ed., ed. by Jens Albrecht Leonhard Holm, Copenhagen: den wahlske Boghandling 1838 (ASKB 200) [Cf. ASKB A I 90]. Psalmer og aandelige Sange, 2nd ed., ed. by Jens Albrecht Leonhard Holm, Copenhagen: den wahlske Boghandling 1838 (ASKB A I 90) [Cf. ASKB 200]. II. Works in The Auction Catalogue of Kierkegaard’s Library that Discuss Brorson None. III. Secondary Literature on Kierkegaard’s Relation to Brorson Burgess, Andrew, “Kierkegaard, Brorson, and Moravian Music,” in Practice in Christianity, ed. by Robert L. perkins, Macon, Georgia: Mercer university press 2004 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 20), pp. 211–43. Thulstrup, Marie Mikulová, Kierkegaard og Pietismen, Copenhagen: Munksgaard, 1967, pp. 15–17. —— “pietism,” in Kierkegaard and Great Traditions, ed. by Niels Thulstrup and Marie Mikulová Thulstrup, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1981 (Bibliotheca Kierkegaardiaana, vol. 6), pp. 181–3.

John Calvin: Kierkegaard and the Question of the Law’s Third use David Yoon-Jung Kim

In A Defense of Sound and Orthodox Doctrine, John Calvin (1509–64) responds to the widespread accusation that Martin Luther (1483–1546) denigrates human responsibility and the role of good works in Christian life by explaining that if Luther “exaggerated” his case at the beginning of the Reformation, it was only because such exaggeration was necessary to overturn a “false and pernicious reliance on works” which had long been “intoxicating” the Christian conscience.1 Casting Luther’s theological accents in a broader historical light, Calvin rejects persistent incriminations that the “whole party of Lutherans”2 (i.e., protestants) denies good works, but concedes that Luther’s rhetoric against works and the law may have indeed been exaggerated.3 Calvin writes: when Luther spoke in this way about good works, he was not seeking to deprive them of their praise and their reward before God. Nor did he ever say that God does not accept them or that he will not reward them; but he wanted to show only what they are worth if they are considered by themselves apart from God’s fatherly generosity....But, you will say, Luther exaggerates. I can grant this, but only when I say that he had a good reason which drove him to such exaggeration; that is, he saw that the world was so deprived of sense by a false and perilous confidence in works, a kind of deadly drowsiness, that it needed not a voice and words to awaken it but a trumpet call, a peal of thunder and thunderbolts.4

John Calvin, A Defense of Sound and Orthodox Doctrine, ed. by A.N.S. Lane, Grand Rapids, Michigan: Baker Books 1996, p. 26. See also, John Calvin, On Scandals, trans. by John w. Fraser, Grand Rapids, Michigan: Eerdmans 1978, p. 81. 2 Interestingly, Calvin in A Defense identifies himself as a member of the “party of Lutherans.” See Calvin, A Defense, p. 30. 3 The accusation that Lutherans deny good works was the centerpiece of the Roman Catholic Confutation (1530) to the Lutheran Augsburg Confession (1530). See Carl E. Maxcey, Bona Opera: A Study in the Development of the Doctrine of Philip Melanchthon, Chicago: B. De Graff 1980, pp. 13–65. 4 Calvin, A Defense, p. 26. 1

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Søren Kierkegaard, who would have come across this passage in 1851 while reading paul Henry’s Das Leben Johann Calvins,5 likewise reiterates that if Luther emphasized faith and “shoved aside”6 works, it was only in order to remedy “a condition in Christendom at a particular time and place.”7 Rather than presenting a “comprehensive view of the whole of Christianity”8 (in its full dialectical rigor), Luther wished, above all, to restore “faith in its own right” in defiance of the “unhealthiness,” “falsity,” and “conceitedness of merit.”9 Having rightly understood that no one can endure the anxiety that his or her “eternal salvation is to be decided by a striving in time, in this life,” Luther proclaimed that a person is saved by grace and by faith alone, and thereby, excised from the life of faith the belief that salvation is somehow dependent on satisfying the requirements of the law.10 However, the lesson of the Reformation is that Luther so accentuated the gospel in opposition to the law, faith over works, some of his followers began interpreting the gospel to mean nothing more than the right to live as they pleased and as a license to “slough off” the requirements of the law.11 In For Self-Examination (1851) Kierkegaard writes: The error of the Middle Ages, meritoriousness, was abhorred....but they applied grace in such a way that they freed themselves from works. Having abolished works, they would not very well be tempted to regard as something meritorious the works they did not do. Luther wished to take “meritoriousness” away from works and apply them somewhat differently—namely, in the direction of witnessing for the truth; the secular mentality, which understood Luther perfectly, took meritoriousness away altogether, including the works.12

Luther, in other words, sought to remove the “unhealthiness and falsity” of merit from works and to preserve them “in honesty, in humility, in beneficial activity.”13 But the Kierkegaard read paul Henry’s three-volume work in German in 1851, probably while preparing his manuscripts of For Self-Examination (published in 1851) and Judge for Yourself! (published posthumously). Henry’s work, however, does not appear in the Auction Catalogue (ASKB), suggesting that either Kierkegaard’s library included works not listed in the catalogue or he borrowed the volumes from another collection. The passage above is cited in paul Henry, Das Leben Johann Calvins des grossen Reformators, vols. 1–3, Hamburg: Friedrich perthes 1835–44, vol. 1, p. 292. Henry’s work was partially translated into English by Henry Stebbling under the title The Life and Times of John Calvin, the Great Reformer, London: whittaker and Co. 1849. However, it lacks most of the notes and appendices which give much of the value to Henry’s original. See SKS 24, 361, NB24:64 / JP 3, 2328. SKS 24, 416, NB24:145 / JP 3, 3575. SKS 24, 362–3, NB24:67 / JP 3, 3760. SKS 24, 360–1, NB24:63 / JP 4, 4742. 6 SV1 XII, 307 / FSE, 16. 7 SKS 25, 400, NB30:22 / JP 3, 2550. 8 Ibid. 9 SV1 XII, 306–7 / FSE, 15–16. 10 SKS 25, 476, NB30:112 / JP 3, 2551. 11 SKS 22, 382, NB14:65 / JP 2, 1475. 12 SV1 XII, 308 / FSE, 17. 13 SV1 XII, 306 / FSE, 15. 5

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secular mentality, wanting to “become Christian as cheaply as possible,” leveraged grace to push away human responsibility and the requirements of the law.14 Kierkegaard began seriously (or “really”) studying Luther in 1847, the year Works of Love was published.15 And in subsequent years, as he became more intimate with the contours of Luther’s theology, Kierkegaard adopts the controversial but not unprecedented strategy of revitalizing the category of law in order to offset the licentious or antinomian drift in evangelical faith. “If Christianity is to be reintroduced into Christendom,” he insists, “it must again be proclaimed unconditionally as imitation, as law.”16 Although he resists doing so in his published works, Kierkegaard in his journals identifies the motif of “imitation,” which corresponds to the concept of “Christ as prototype,” to the law, such that the affirmation of “imitation” for Christian life is not merely intended as a substitute for the demands of the law, as one commentator suggests, but as an affirmation of the law itself with a “qualitative intensification.”17 understanding this to be controversial, Kierkegaard foretells in an 1850 journal entry that his contemporaries—those with a vested, if not professional, interest in preserving Lutheran Orthodoxy—will object to his emphasis on the abiding role of law in Christian life. “Now there will again be an uproar that I proclaim only the law, urge imitation too strongly...And they will say: we cannot stop with this; we must go further—to grace, where there is peace and tranquility.”18 It is perhaps in anticipation of such objections that Kierkegaard in 1851 takes what might otherwise appear to be a literary detour and reads an intellectual biography of John Calvin.19 In paul Henry’s three-volume work Das Leben Johann Calvins, Kierkegaard would have encountered an abundance of source materials, including numerous letters, minor theological treatises, and excerpts from commentaries as well as analysis of various editions of the Institutes in which Calvin explicitly addresses SV1 XII, 307 / FSE, 16. SKS 20, 274, NB3:61 / JP 3, 2463. Kierkegaard acknowledges that prior to 1847 he has “never really read anything by Luther.” 16 SKS 25, 156, NB27:42 / JP 1, 401 (italics added). 17 SKS 24, 393, NB24:115 / JP 2, 1905. “In truth Christ did not come to abolish the law— he himself is the fulfillment of the law, and has presented himself as the prototype [Forbillede]. That there is a prototype who is the fulfillment of the law and whom we should imitate—this is a thoroughly qualitative intensification.” Some read Kierkegaard as affirming the concept of “imitation of Christ” as a “substitute for the demands of the law,” as Robert perkins puts it, and in so doing, overlook Kierkegaard’s occasional remarks about the continuity between the law and Christ. See the introduction to For Self-Examination and Judge for Yourself!, ed. by Robert perkins, Macon, Georgia: Mercer university press 2002 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 21), p. 6. 18 SKS 23, 471, NB20:150 / JP 2, 1878. 19 Kierkegaard owned six volumes of Calvin’s works in Latin—the Institutes in two volumes and the New Testament Commentaries in four volumes. However, there is very little evidence suggesting that Kierkegaard engaged these works in any sustained manner or that he was personally interested in Calvin, at least prior to 1851. Ioannis Calvini in novum testamentum commentarii, vols. 1–7, ed. by August Tholuck, Berlin: Eichler 1833–34 (ASKB 92–95); Joannis Calvini Institutio christianae religionis, vols. 1–2, ed. by August Tholuck, Berlin: Eichler 1834–35 (ASKB 455–456). 14 15

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the problems in Luther’s theology.20 The appendices alone, which present selections from Calvin’s corpus and give much of the value to Henry’s work, run to over 500 pages in the span of three volumes. To be sure, Kierkegaard’s interest in the Genevan reformer, whom Henry characterizes as a “necessary antithesis of Luther,”21 has to be seen as derivative of his personal struggle with his Lutheran heritage and the Danish ecclesial establishment. Still, when considered alongside other books he was reading at the time, including Friedrich Galle’s study of the theology of philipp Melanchthon (1497–1560) and August petersen’s study of ecclesiology, Kierkegaard’s interest in Calvin may reflect a desire to get better acquainted with one of Luther’s greatest, if not most controversial, disciples—the one usually given the credit or the blame for emphasizing the positive function of the law in Christian life.22 The purpose of this article, therefore, is not to establish Calvin as a major source for Kierkegaard’s works, but to explore to what extent Calvin’s (and also indirectly Melanchthon’s) ideas about the “uses of law” in Christian life may have served as foils for honing his own response to a perennial problem in Lutheran faith—the problem of giving good works a constructive role within the life of faith. Scholars have asked whether Kierkegaard, especially in the two essays written between 1851 and early 1852, affirms a distinctive third (or didactic) use in order to offset the licentious drift in Lutheran faith, but have typically ignored source-critical considerations. Kierkegaard’s appropriation of Reformation themes, especially the theme of law, is complex, but, as I see it, more deliberative than commonly recognized. At the very least, Kierkegaard’s proclamation of Christianity “as law”23 bears a family resemblance to one of the central tenets of John Calvin’s theology, the third use of the law. published in 1835–44, paul Henry’s work is considered by some Reformation scholars as the first important modern biography of the Genevan reformer. According to williston walker, “Of important modern biographies, the earliest in date and the amplest in learning up to its time was that by the pastor of the French Church in Berlin, paul Henry, Das Leben Johann Calvins...the fruit of great industry, it was, for its epoch, the ablest defense as well as the fullest biography of the Genevan reformer.” As a Reformed pastor living in Lutheran Germany, Henry devotes significant portions of his work to analyzing the continuity and discontinuity between Calvin and his two great Lutheran predecessors—Martin Luther and philipp Melanchthon. See williston walker, John Calvin, the Organizer of Reformed Protestantism, 1509–1564, New York: Schocken Books 1969, pp. xi–xviii. 21 paul Henry, Das Leben Johann Calvins, vol. 2, p. 1. 22 In 1851 Kierkegaard read Friedrich Galle’s Melanchthon als Theolog, Halle, Lippert & Schmidt 1840. Like paul Henry’s work, Galle’s work also is not listed in the Auction Catalogue. The final three chapters (pp. 395–468) cover the theological exchange between Calvin and his Lutheran counterparts, especially in the second half of the sixteenth century—a period defined by the consolidation of Lutheran confessional identity in opposition to the growing influence of Calvinism in southern Germany. See SKS 24, 426, NB24:160 / JP 3, 3056. Furthermore, in 1851 Kierkegaard also read August petersen’s Die Idee der christlichen Kirche. Zur wissenschaftlichen Beantwortung der Lebensfrage unserer Zeit. Ein theologischer Versuch, vols. 1–3, Leipzig: vogel 1839–46 (ASKB 717–719). See SKS 24, 313–14, NB23:220 / JP 2, 1484. SKS 24, 316, NB23:227 / JP 3, 2536. SKS 24, 314–15, NB23:222 / JP 3, 2822. SKS 24, 315, NB23:223 / JP 6, 6756. 23 SKS 25, 156, NB27:42 / JP 1, 401. 20

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I. Calvin’s Doctrine of the Third Use of the Law in Early Reformation Context As a second-generation reformer, Calvin readily acknowledged his debt to Luther, referring to the wittenberg reformer not only as a spiritual “father” and “brother” but also as a “remarkable apostle” and “a distinguished servant of Christ.”24 Even when Luther began lashing out in “savage invectives”25 against the Swiss reformers in the controversies over the Lord’s Supper, Calvin remained remarkably deferential. “I often say,” Calvin confided to Heinrich Bullinger (1504–75), “that even if he (Luther) should call me a devil, I should still pay him the honor of acknowledging him as an illustrious servant of God, who yet, as he is rich in virtue, so also labors under serious faults.”26 Luther’s role in laying open the path to reform, particularly through his breakthrough discovery of the doctrine of justification by faith apart from works prescribed by the law (Romans 3:28) establishes the debt owed.27 Calvin recognized this Lutheran (but also pauline) doctrine to be the heart [summum] of the Christian faith—“the chief issue” and “the cause of everything else that is said.”28 For if knowledge of justification by faith is taken away, “the glory of Christ is extinguished, religion abolished, the Church destroyed, and the hope of salvation utterly overthrown.”29 However, Luther was not without personal faults, nor his theology without imperfections. By the time of the publication of the first edition of Calvin’s Institutes in 1536, protestantism generally (and Lutheranism in particular) had encountered devastating setbacks. The charge that justification by faith leaves no room or need for good works had dogged Lutheranism from the beginning, but a series of developments within the movement—including the peasants’ Revolt (1525), the ensuing moral and religious chaos in territories won over to Lutheran reform, and the outgrowth of the antinomian controversy (starting in the mid-1520s and lasting after Luther’s death in 1546)—led Catholic critics to causally link these developments to Luther’s theology. Erasmus of Rotterdam (ca. 1466–1536), for example, complained in 1528 that once liberated from the institutional restraints and pedagogy of Rome, the vast majority of Luther’s followers were simply interpreting the gospel to mean nothing more than the “right to live as they pleased” and as a license to “seek two things only—wealth

Calvin, A Defense, p. 28. Calvin uses this phrase to characterize Luther’s lack of moderation in attacking the memory of zwingli and the eucharistic theology of Oecolampadius. Calvin later refers to the eucharistic controversy as “that unhappy dispute over the Lord’s Supper.” See Calvin’s letter to Bullinger (November 25, 1544) in John Calvin, Letters of John Calvin, trans. and ed. by Jules Bonnet, New York: B. Franklin 1972, vol. 1, p. 432. 26 Ibid., p. 433. 27 See Calvin’s letter to Melanchthon (June 28, 1545) in John Calvin, Letters of John Calvin, vol. 1, p. 466: “we all of us do acknowledge that we are much indebted to him.” 28 Calvin, A Defense, p. 29. 29 Calvin, Response to Sadoleto in Selected Works of John Calvin: Tracts and Letters, vols. 1–7, ed. by Henry Beveridge and Jules Bonnet, Grand Rapids, Michigan: Baker 1983, vol. 1, p. 105. 24 25

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and wives.”30 Even fellow reformers, like ulrich zwingli (1484–1531) and Heinrich Bullinger, began questioning whether Luther had not too radically separated law and gospel, and thereby, been responsible for some of the ensuing chaos.31 Internally, the peasants’ Revolt posed a grave danger for the evangelical reform movement. Not only did the ex-Lutheran, Thomas Müntzer (1490–1525), play a leading role in the revolt, the peasants themselves in a manifesto (the Twelve Articles of 1525) explicitly appealed to Lutheran ideas and also in other treatises mentioned Luther by name. Such loose affiliations threatened to undermine the princely base of support for mainline (i.e., magisterial) reform, which by and large had aligned with sympathetic secular authorities against Rome. Luther vehemently denied any responsibility for the political sedition, maintaining that “this rebellion cannot be coming from me. Rather the murder-prophets.”32 Furthermore, in the wake of devastations left by the war Luther and Melanchthon in 1527–28 headed “visitations” (or inspection tours) to evaluate the conditions of local parishes in Electoral Saxony. These visitations had a profound impact on Luther and Melanchthon. According to Timothy J. wengert, their experiences helped initiate a paradigm shift in their theologies, especially for Melanchthon who began envisioning a new balance between law and gospel, one more suited for moralizing evangelical faith.33 Luther reacted to what he had seen during the visitations by invoking with new intensity the theological or accusatory function of the law (Luther’s second and Calvin’s first use). He was appalled that so many of his followers had “mastered the fine art of abusing liberty” and exploited the restoration of the gospel to justify moral license and political sedition.34 Both Luther’s Small and Large Catechisms of 1529 were written to directly root out antinomian inferences from Lutheran faith.35 The preface to the Small Catechism conveys Luther’s concern over the widespread abuse of Christian liberty: The deplorable conditions which I recently encountered when I was a visitor constrained me to prepare this brief and simple catechism or statement of Christian teaching. Good God, what wretchedness I beheld! The common people, especially those who live in the country, have no knowledge whatever of Christian teaching...they live as if they were

30 Erasmus expresses the concern over the moral implications of Luther’s theology in a letter (written on March 20, 1528) to a fellow humanist, willibald pirkheimer. philipp Melanchthon, Opus Epistolarum Des. Erasmi Roterodami, ed. by p.S. Allen and H.M. Allen, Oxford: Clarendon press 1928, vol. 7, p. 366 (no. 1977). 31 Edward A. Dowey, “Law in Luther and Calvin,” Theology Today, vol. 41, no. 2, 1984, p. 152. 32 Cited in Mark Edwards, Luther and the False Brethren, Stanford, California: Stanford university press 1975, p. 61. 33 Timothy J. wengert, Law and Gospel: Philip Melanchthon’s Debate with John Agricola of Eisleben over Poenitentia, Grand Rapids, Michigan: Baker Books 1997, pp. 148–9. 34 See Luther’s preface to the Small Catechism in the Book of Concord, ed. by Theodore G. Tappert, philadelphia: Muhlenberg press 1959, p. 338. 35 Günther Gassmann and Scott Hendrix, Fortress Introduction to the Lutheran Confessions, Minneapolis, Minnesota: Fortress press 1999, p. 17.

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pigs and irrational beasts, and now that the Gospel has been restored they have mastered the fine art of abusing liberty.36

In a revised preface to the Large Catechism from 1530 Luther reiterated the complaint against this “rotten, pernicious, shameful, carnal liberty.”37 There Luther equated God’s word with the law, adding the startling remark that the law (or the Decalogue) encompasses all of God’s word: “This much is certain: anyone who knows the Ten Commandments perfectly knows the entire Scripture. In all affairs and circumstances he can counsel, help, comfort, judge, and make decisions in both spiritual and temporal matters. He is qualified to sit in judgment upon all doctrine, estates, persons, laws, and everything else in the world.”38 So incensed was Luther that his followers were abusing Christian liberty that he in 1530 even threatened to quit preaching. But, as John Schofield points out, “if this was a ploy designed to stir the heart of his flock to live a more godly life, it failed.”39 Melanchthon’s reaction to the squalid conditions in Lutheran territories mirrored Luther’s, although his indignation and fear of moral disorder were expressed in different theological form. Melanchthon’s more dogmatic (or systematic) response to the visitations traces the early development of the protestant doctrine of the “third use of the law” (tertius usus legis). First, Melanchthon, at the urging of Elector John, wrote a guidebook for subsequent visitations entitled Instructions for the Visitors for Parish Pastors in Electoral Saxony (1527). And pertinent to our discussion, it mandated that Lutheran pastors preach the law to remedy the situation at hand: pastors must follow the example of Christ. Since He taught repentance and remission of sins, pastors also must teach these to their churches. At present it is common to vociferate concerning faith, and yet one cannot understand what faith is, unless repentance is preached. plainly they pour new wine into old bottles who preach faith without repentance, without the doctrine of fear of God, without the doctrine of the Law, and accustom the people to a certain carnal security, which is worse than all former errors of the pope.40

Melanchthon’s logic was that common people would not place their faith in Christ unless they first despaired of their own unrighteous. For him, at least in these earlier years, the common abuse of Christian liberty meant not that the balance between gospel and law was wrong but that the masses of people had never embraced the gospel in the first place. Thus, the (accusatory function of the) law had to be urged for the sake of preserving Luther’s insight about justification by faith. Melanchthon believed that his admonition to preach the law was in full accord with Luther’s and Book of Concord, p. 338. Ibid., pp. 358–9. 38 Ibid., p. 361. 39 John Schofield, Philip Melanchthon and the English Reformation, Aldershot: Ashgate 2006 (St. Andrews Studies in Reformation History), p. 45. 40 philipp Melanchthon, Corpus Reformatorum: Philippi Melanthonis Opera Quae Supersunt Omnia, Halle: Schwetschke 1834–60, vol. 16, pp. 9–10. The English translation comes from the Concordia Triglotta, trans. and ed. by Friedrich Bente and w.H.T. Dau, St. Louis: Concordia 1921, p. 163. 36 37

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the latter confirmed this by writing the 1528 preface to the Instruction.41 Melanchthon further surmised that historical circumstances had changed since the early years of the Lutheran reform movement, when an unrelenting preaching of the law combined with the pernicious doctrine of work-righteousness imposed an unbearable weight of despair upon the Christian conscience.42 Now, however, without the burden of having to fulfill the requirement of the law as a condition for salvation, the common people exploited their newfound liberty to pursue worldly advantage and pleasure. In such circumstances, the law not only needed to be reintroduced for the sake of the gospel but it needed to be accentuated. That is, the law and gospel needed to be held in dialectical tension.43 Some commentators interpret Melanchthon’s admonition to aggressively preach the law in the Instruction as suggestive of a third use of the law.44 However, the Augsburg Confession and its Apology, which Melanchthon wrote in 1530 and 1531, somewhat curtail an overly interpolative reading of the Instruction. It is true that in the Augsburg Confession Melanchthon addresses the problem of license, especially as the charge of license was incorporated into papal arguments against the Lutheran position. Article 20 on “Faith and works” is, in fact, the longest article of the Augsburg Confession, precisely for the reason that the relation between faith and works was at the center of Lutheran struggles with Rome.45 In it Melanchthon writes: “Our teachers are falsely accused of forbidding works. Their publication on the Ten Commandments and others of like import bear witness that they have taught to good purpose about all stations and duties of life, indicating what manner of life and what kinds of work are pleasing to God in the several callings.”46 Still such concerns have to be understood in light of Melanchthon’s subsequent assertion in the Apology: “The law always accuses” (Lex semper accusat).47 paradoxically, the Augsburg Confession and its Apology are the first major treatises of Melanchthon’s which examine a theology of good works. In the Augsburg Confession Melanchthon insists that Lutherans do, in fact, teach that “good works should and must be done, not that we are to rely on them to earn grace but that we may do God’s will and glorify him.”48 Moreover, although we do not merit grace in any way, Melanchthon adds in

werner Elert, The Christian Ethos, trans. by Carl J. Schindler, philadelphia: Fortress press 1957, pp. 300–1. 42 Scott R. Murray, Law, Life, and the Living God: The Third Use of the Law in Modern American Lutheranism, St. Louis: Concordia publishing House 2001, p. 17. 43 Ibid., p. 17. 44 See Merwyn S. Johnson, “Calvin’s Handling of the Third use of the Law and Its problems,” Calviniana: Ideas and Influence of Jean Calvin, ed. by Robert v. Schnucker, Ann Arbor: Edwards Brothers 1988, p. 35. 45 Gassmann and Hendrix, Fortress Introduction to the Lutheran Confessions, pp. 166–9. 46 Book of Concord, p. 41. 47 The phrase “lex semper accusat” is repeated on several occasions in the Apology. See, for example, Article Iv and XII in Book of Concord, p. 125 and p. 195 respectively. 48 Book of Concord, p. 45. 41

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the Apology that “good works must necessarily follow faith” and that Lutherans “do not overthrow the law...but uphold it.”49 The issue concerning faith and works—and derivatively law and gospel— posed not just a theoretical problem but also an important practical (existential or psychological) problem for protestantism. while Luther insisted that good works flowed from justification by faith, his arguments about justification “also severed every conceptual connection” between the performance of works and salvation, as Steven Ozment points out.50 By uprooting the longstanding (scholastic) motivation for pursuing good works (i.e., concern over salvation) from the popular Christian imagination, Luther also created what many critics considered to be a motivational vacuum. “[Even] Luther observed that people found it exceedingly unnatural to do good works simply out of thanksgiving to God and love of their neighbor, with no expectation of divine reward.”51 Good works were supposed to spontaneously follow justification and flow from faith, out of gratitude for grace received, but in Lutheran territories—and in Luther’s backyard of wittenberg—the preaching of the gospel often went hand in hand with moral laxity and political sedition. Church attendance also was in steady decline now that there was nothing meritorious in it.52 within this context Lutheran theologians like philipp Melanchthon attempted to merge justification by faith with more precise ethical motivations and goods, ones that sought to connect the general disposition of gratitude to specifiable patterns of outward actions. Melanchthon was more than willing to concede that “faith is a living, active thing.”53 But in the 1530s he began to understand that other means had to be employed to give works more of a constructive role in Christian life. Although Melanchthon’s fear of moral disorder and licentiousness stemmed from memories of the peasants’ Revolt and participation in the visitations, it took the special agitation of Johann Agricola (1494–1566), a one-time colleague and trusted pupil of Luther’s, to induce a more formal, doctrinal response. Following the publication of Melanchthon’s Instruction, Agricola began publically criticizing Melanchthon’s (and indirectly Luther’s) accommodations with respect to the uses of the law, leading to a series of disputations between the two and later between

Ibid., p. 229. “Furthermore, we have already given ample evidence of our conviction that good works must necessarily follow faith. we do not overthrow the law, paul says (Rom. 3:31), but uphold it; for when we have received the Holy Spirit by faith, the keeping of the law necessarily follows, by which love, patience, chastity, and other fruits of the Spirit gradually increase.” 50 Steven Ozment, The Age of Reform 1250–1550, New Haven, Connecticut: Yale university press 1980, p. 376. 51 Ibid. 52 Schofield, Philip Melanchthon and the English Reformation, p. 45. 53 This expression comes from Luther’s Church Postil, in particular the sermon for the “Fourteenth Sunday After Trinity.” “For faith is a living, active thing. But in order that men may not deceive themselves and think they have faith when they have not, they are to examine their works, whether they also love their neighbors and do good to them.” See Sermons of Martin Luther, ed. by John Nicholas Lenker, Grand Rapids, Michigan: Baker Book House 1988, vol. 5, p. 71. 49

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Agricola and Luther.54 Although the arguments were more nuanced, Agricola’s basic claim was that Melanchthon’s insistence on the proclamation of the law in Lutheran parishes was tantamount to a softening, if not a complete abandonment, of the evangelical principle of justification by faith alone, apart from works prescribed by the law (Romans 3:28).55 Agricola did not deny the law had a civic or political role. But by appealing to Luther’s earlier (pre-1525) writings, Agricola denied that the law should be preached among Christians in the church, since only the gospel, not the law, leads to faith and penance.56 Melanchthon in turn appealed to Luther’s later (post-1525) works, arguing that Agricola was failing to take into account the polemical intent of Luther’s earlier remarks which were singularly focused on overturning the false presuppositions of Rome. The denigration of law by a prominent Lutheran theologian led Melanchthon to formalize earlier patterns in his (and arguably also in Luther’s) theology into the threefold framework for discussing the uses of the law [triplex usus legis] by adding the controversial “third use” (the law as a guide and norm for believers). we come across the doctrine of the third use of the law for the first time in the 1535 edition of the Loci Communes, written in the period between Melanchthon’s first clash with Agricola in 1527 and Luther’s clashes with him in the late 1530s. The accumulative effect on Melanchthon’s mind of Agricola’s denigration of the law, earlier setbacks of the Lutheran reform, and lingering Catholic incriminations that Lutherans deny good works, not only led him to intensify his defense of a positive use of the law in Christian life, but also to begin elaborating on the “necessity of good works” in the 1534 revision of the Scholia.57 Melanchthon’s growing preoccupation with ethics and with strengthening the case for a didactic use of the law coalesced into educational initiatives, which, among other things, included the reintroduction of the teaching of Aristotle at the university of wittenberg. His disagreement with Luther over the Epistle of James may have anticipated alternative configurations of the law–gospel dialectic and ethics. whereas Luther characterized James as the “straw epistle” worthy of firing his stove, Melanchthon (like Calvin) consistently expressed approval of it.58 The controversy between two of Luther’s most prominent pupils concentrated protestant attention on the distinction between the law and gospel and on the various uses of the law. Luther’s public condemnation of Agricola and apparent endorsement of Melanchthon’s position helped to (temporarily) eliminate the antinomian option by establishing that the law still applies to persons saved by grace and by faith. wengert, Law and Gospel, pp. 18–19. Eric w. Gritsch, A History of Lutheranism, Minneapolis, Minnesota: Fortress press 2002, pp. 86–7. 56 See Murray, Law, Life, and the Living God: The Third Use of the Law in Modern American Lutheranism, pp. 16–19; p. 33, note 32. 57 See Sachiko Kusukawa, “Melanchthon,” The Cambridge Companion to Reformation Theology, ed. by David Bagchi and David C. Steinmetz, Cambridge: Cambridge university press 2004, p. 59; wengert, Law and Gospel, pp. 200–6; Gritsch, History of Lutheranism, p. 76–7. Gritsch points out that Melanchthon between 1527 and 1538 was preoccupied with formulating a distinctly Lutheran Christian philosophical ethic. 58 Schofield, Philip Melanchthon and the English Reformation, p. 85. 54 55

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However, the more difficult question of how the law relates to persons justified by faith—or, as Robert Kolb puts it, how to “integrate motivation for Christian living through the gospel with the information necessary to make ethical decisions”— remained largely unresolved.59 In fact, although Lutheran Orthodoxy would come to acknowledge that the law needed to be restored in some capacity, the unresolved question of whether a didactic use strengthens or weakens Luther’s insight about justification resurfaced after Luther’s death, giving birth to bitter internecine disputes that threatened to split the Lutheran Church along factional lines. It is precisely against this Lutheran backdrop that Calvin set out to write the Institutes. The structure and contents of the first edition of the Institutes (1536) clearly demonstrate Calvin’s intellectual debt to Luther and Lutheran theologians he respected, most notably philipp Melanchthon. Not only does he model this “little work,” as he later referred to the 1536 edition, after Luther’s Catechisms, Calvin also explicitly endorses Melanchthon’s third use—and he does so around the time of the first wave of controversy between Agricola and Melanchthon was drawing to a close.60 In fact, the 1536 edition has sometimes been described as a “Lutheran edition” or even a “false start” as a specifically Reformed treatise, because on such controversial topics as the third use of the law Calvin had yet to distinguish himself markedly from either Luther or Melanchthon.61 In successive editions of the Institutes, Calvin introduces significant alterations to Melanchthon’s doctrine of third use, which in turn helped set his version aside as a distinct Reformed doctrine. Like Luther and Melanchthon, Calvin sees the law, first of all, as an instrument that “warns, informs, convicts, and...condemns every man of his own unrighteousness.”62 Calvin even concedes that without Christ the primary way a person relates to the law is as curse, a “mirror” in which to contemplate one’s weakness and sin.63 In the second place, the law serves also as a curb or restraint on malefaction. “By fear of punishment, [the law] bridles [human beings to] keep their hands from outward activity, and hold inside the depravity that otherwise they would wantonly have indulged.”64 Luther, Melanchthon and Calvin were all agreed on these two basic points. However, in his mature paradigm (represented in the 1539 Strasbourg edition and beyond), Calvin, more than any Lutheran predecessor, emphasizes the positive and constructive role of law in Christian life—an emphasis which would become Robert Kolb, “preaching the Christian Life,” in Caritas et Reformatio: Essays on Church and Society in Honor of Carter Lindberg, ed. by David M. whitford, St. Louis, Missouri: Concordia Academic press 2002, p. 133. 60 Francois wendel, Calvin: Origins and Development of His Religious Thought, trans. by philip Mairet, Durham, North Carolina: The Labyrinth press 1963, p. 112. See also I. John Hesselink, “Calvin’s Theology,” in The Cambridge Companion to John Calvin, ed. by Donald K. McKim, Cambridge: Cambridge university press 2004, p. 75. 61 Hesselink, “Calvin’s Theology,” p. 75. 62 Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, ed. by John T. McNeill, trans. by Ford Lewis Battles, philadelphia: westminster press 1960 (Library of Christian Classics, vols. 20–1), II.7.6. 63 Institutes of the Christian Religion, II.7.7. 64 Ibid., II.7.10. 59

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the hallmark of Reformed theology. The signature themes of Calvin’s version of the doctrine of third use are his description of it as the “principal use” and the often overlooked distinction between the “two ways” by which believers are said to “still profit by the law.”65 In Book II, chapter 7, section 12 of the Institutes, Calvin writes: The third and principal use of the law, which pertains more closely to the proper purpose [propium finem] of the law, finds its place among believers in whose heart the Spirit of God already lives and reigns. For even though they have the law written and engraved upon their hearts by the finger of God, that is, have been so moved and quickened through the directing of the Spirit that they long to obey God, they still profit by the law in two ways [bifariam tamen adhunc in Lege proficiunt].66

By referring to the third use as the “principal use,” Calvin is without a doubt introducing a departure from Lutheran precedents. Melanchthon also believed it was necessary to propagate a third use, but he remained more or less in continuity with Luther who maintained the theological use as the principal use [usus praecipuus]. Both Luther and Melanchthon identified the theological use as the “proper and principal use.” Luther used this terminology in his 1535 Commentary on Galatians, referring to the theological use as the “the true” and “most important” and the “highest” use of the law.67 According to the Lutheran theologian werner Elert: Calvin follows Melanchthon’s lead but digresses at precisely the point where Melanchthon had remained true to Luther’s position until the end. Calvin also teaches a threefold use of the law and means by tertius usus its validity for the believer. But for him this constitutes the usus praecipuus, the specific purpose of the law. In Luther’s theology, law is addressed to the old nature, the flesh; the new man who looks at Christ knows nothing of the law. According to Calvin, the law is intended for the new, spiritual man. In Luther’s and paul’s view, the law drives man into sin. Calvin believes that law itself serves as an incentive for man to fulfill. In this and similar beliefs Calvin is influenced by his original assumption that law is not judgment but a rule of life.68

Elert’s observation is both helpful and misleading. It is helpful because Elert rightly observes that Calvin’s description of the third use as the principal use marks an important break, if not a radical departure, from Luther’s theology. Melanchthon’s reluctance to do the same hints at the radicality of Calvin’s innovation. But it is also misleading because it conflates important arguments Calvin employs to rationalize the shift away from Luther. For Calvin the third use of the law touches upon (or flows from) the broader issue of law and gospel. Calvin recognizes the law–gospel antithesis, the cornerstone of Reformation theology, to be solidly grounded on the pauline epistles. what Calvin Ibid., II.7.12. Ibid. 67 Cited in I. John Hesselink, “Christ, the Law, and the Christian: An unexplored Aspect of the Third use of the Law in Calvin’s Theology,” in Readings in Calvin’s Theology, ed. by Donald K. McKim, Grand Rapids, Michigan: Baker Book House 1984, p. 179, note 1. 68 Elert, The Christian Ethos, p. 301. 65 66

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finds problematic, however, is the tendency to define the relationship between law and gospel exclusively in terms of an antinomy. In a passage of the Institutes which can be read as a deliberate polemic against Luther, Calvin writes: Hence, also, we refute those who always erroneously compare the law with the gospel by contrasting the merit of works with the free imputation of righteousness. This is indeed a contrast [antithesis] not at all to be rejected....But the gospel did not so supplant the entire law as to bring forth a different way of salvation. Rather, it confirmed and satisfied whatever the law had promised, and gave substance to the shadows....From this we infer that, where the whole law [tota lex] is concerned, the gospel differs from it only in clarity of manifestation.69

Calvin clearly affirms the antithesis as essential to his own position, as foundational for the evangelical doctrine of justification by grace through faith, which he affirms as the heart of the Christian religion. Calvin nowhere refutes Luther’s (and paul’s) description of the accusatory function of the law (i.e., the law standing in opposition or antithesis to the gospel); however, Calvin refutes those who “always erroneously” characterize the relation between law and gospel exclusively in terms of an opposition or antithesis, as if to reduce the sum of biblical wisdom to paul’s insight about justification. In so far as the liberation of the individual conscience begins with the “restoration of the total salvation in the grace of Christ,”70 the Lutheran antithesis is “not at all to be rejected.”71 But in so far as the whole of scriptural knowledge cannot be reduced to the pauline epistles, Calvin proposes to supplement and extend the Lutheran dialectic of opposition with the dialectic of unity. How does Calvin simultaneously affirm an antithesis and a continuum, a continuum implied in the statement that the gospel “gave substance to the shadow” of the law and that the gospel “differs” from the law “only in its clarity of manifestation”?72 The law that is in opposition to the gospel in Luther’s (and paul’s) theology is, according to Calvin, the “bare law” [nuda lex], not the “whole law” [tota lex].73 The law that effectively functions as a mirror of sin, driving the conscience into despair, is the law operating in its “peculiar office, power, and end” to bring the sinner into a confession.74 The law that is antithetical to the gospel is the “bare law” without reference to Christ, while the law that is in harmony or continuity with the gospel is the “whole law.” “If Christ is taken away, it is altogether such as paul describes.”75 But when “animated by Christ,” “the life of the law,” the law retains its “life-giving” Institutes of the Christian Religion, II.9.4. Calvin, On Scandals, p. 81. 71 Institutes of the Christian Religion, II.9.4. 72 Ibid., II.9.4. 73 Ibid., II.7.2. “He [paul] was disputing with perverse teachers who pretended that we merit righteousness by the works of the law. Consequently, to refute their error he was sometimes compelled to take the bare law [nuda lex] in the narrow sense, even though it was otherwise graced with the covenant of free adoption.” 74 Calvin, Harmony of the Law (Commentary on Exodus 19:1–8), in Calvin’s Commentaries, trans. by Calvin Translation Society, Edinburgh 1844–56 (reprint, vols. 1–22, Grand Rapids, Michigan: Baker 1981), vol. 2, p. 314. 75 Calvin, Commentary on 2 Cor. 3:17, in Calvin’s Commentaries, vol. 20, pp. 185. 69 70

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power.76 Calvin’s argument, in short, hinges on the definition of law. Within the threefold functions of the law, then, Calvin is employing a different definition of the law in the first use from the third. When describing the first use of the law, Calvin has in mind the “bare law in the narrow sense,”77 which stands in opposition [antithesis] to the gospel. In the bare law “we can only be despondent, confused, and despairing in mind, since from it all of us are condemned and accursed.”78 But when he describes the third use of the law, Calvin has in mind the “whole law” in the broad sense, which is the law in harmony with the gospel. Thus, beyond an antithesis, Calvin thinks that the scriptures point to a dialectic of unity as well as a dialectic of opposition. Foremost on his mind are two biblical loci: first, Jesus Christ’s own testament in the Sermon on the Mount that he “came not to abolish the law but to fulfill it” and that “until heaven and earth pass away...not a jot will pass away from the law until all is accomplished” (Matthew 5:17–18 as cited in the Institutes, II.7.14); and secondly, paul’s teaching that “Christ is the end [telos] of the law” (Romans 10:4 as cited in the Institutes, II.6.4, II.7.2, III.2.6). These passages enable Calvin to fix the person of Christ as the proper telos [propium finem]79 and the “very soul” [vere anima]80 of the law, with the law differing from the gospel only in “clarity of manifestations.”81 Calvin’s crucial point is, not only in how believers relate to the law, but that the law itself undergoes a fundamental transformation in Christ. “Not that the law no longer enjoins believers to do what is right, but only that it is not for them what it formerly was: it may no longer condemn and destroy their consciences by frightening Ibid., pp. 184–5. Institutes of the Christian Religion, II.7.2. 78 Ibid., II.7.4. See also John Calvin’s comments on Gal. 3:19. “The law has many uses, but Paul confines himself to that which bears on his present subject. He did not propose to inquire in how many ways the law is of advantage to men. It is necessary to put readers on their guard on this point; for very many, I find, have fallen into the mistake of acknowledging no other advantage belonging to the law, but what is expressed in this passage. paul himself elsewhere speaks of the precepts of the law as profitable for doctrine and exhortations (2 Timothy 3:16). The definition here given of the use of the law is not complete, and those who refuse to make any other acknowledgment in favor of the law do wrong.” Calvin, Commentary on Galatians 3:19, in Calvin’s Commentaries, vol. 21, pp. 99–100 (italics added). 79 Institutes of the Christian Religion, II.7.12; Calvin, Commentary on Romans 10:4, in Calvin’s Commentaries, vol. 19, pp. 384–5. 80 Calvin, Commentary on Acts 7:38, in Calvin’s Commentaries, vol. 18, p. 288. 81 Institutes II.9.4. Calvin uses a range of metaphors to describe the connection, the continuum, between law and the gospel. The gospel is like the “reality” or the “substance” that does not supplant the law but instead confirms and gives actuality to the “shadows” of the law; the gospel is a “vivid portrait” or personification while the law is a “rough sketch” or outline; the gospel is the sight of something seen in the splendor of the midday sun while the law is the same seen in the haze of dawn; the gospel is the “antiquated tutelage” while the gospel is the discipleship or “school of Christ”; the law is a training in the “rudiments” versus the “height of the gospel teaching,” etc. All these metaphors characterize the fundamental continuum between law and gospel and describe different senses by which Christ “fulfills” the law. See I. John Hesselink, Calvin’s Concept of the Law, Allison park: pickwick publications 1992, pp. 170–82. 76 77

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and confounding them.”82 Like Luther, Calvin acknowledges that faith in Christ’s atoning work removes the curse of the law. Moreover, through Christ’s authoritative teachings and example, the Christian imagination is able to move beyond the narrow, prohibitive principles of the law toward the incarnation of love. In Christ the law is no longer what it formerly was; Christ is the manifestation of the “very soul,” 83 the life,84 the telos (fulfillment) of the law.85 “whatever the law teaches, whatever it commands, whatever it promises, has always a reference to Christ as its main object; and hence all its parts ought to be applied to him.”86 It is this law that continues to instruct and exhort believers. Calvin’s Christological reorientation or revitalization of the law is the theoretical pretext for the third use, in particular the “two ways” by which believers are said to “still profit by the law.”87 The first way believers still profit from the law is by recognizing it to be the “best instrument” for learning “more thoroughly each day the nature of the Lord’s will to which they aspire.”88 The law, in this sense, functions as a norm or a source of moral information. Commentators tend to reduce Calvin’s doctrine of the third use to this first feature. This tendency is unfortunate because Calvin consistently projected a second positive way by which the law continues to operate in Christian life: “Again, because we need not only teaching but exhortation [non sola doctrina sed exhortatione], the servant of God will also avail himself of this benefit of the law: by frequent mediation upon it to be aroused to obedience, be strengthened in it, and be drawn back from the slippery path of transgression.”89 Through his discussion of the exhortative feature of the law Calvin is addressing the problem inherited from his Lutheran predecessors—namely, the problem of renewing striving or motivating believers to continue in the pursuit of good works, even though there is nothing meritorious in it. More so than Luther, Calvin stressed progress and growth in Christian life. To that end, when Calvin explains the law’s power to exhort believers to make “unceasing progress in the way of the Lord,”90 he consistently links the exhortative feature of the law to the motif of Christ as exemplar.91 The link is implied in the Christological reorientation and revitalization of the law, but in describing the law as a goad, a spur, and a source of exhortation, Calvin presents a more precise account of how the law

Institutes of the Christian Religion, II.7.14. Calvin, Commentary on Acts 7:38, in Calvin’s Commentaries, vol. 18, p. 288. 84 Calvin, Commentary on 2 Cor. 3:17, in Calvin’s Commentaries, vol. 20, p. 185. 85 Calvin, Commentary on Romans 10:4, in Calvin’s Commentaries, vol. 19, p. 385. 86 Ibid., p. 384. 87 Textually, after a formal presentation of the doctrine of third use in Book II, chapter 7 of the Institutes, Calvin offers an in-depth analysis of the law as a source of moral information in his exposition of the Decalogue (in Book II, chapter 8). Calvin’s discussion of the exhortative feature of the law appears in the so-called “Treatise on Christian life” (Book III, chapters 6–10). 88 Institutes of the Christian Religion, II.7.12. 89 Ibid., II.7.12. 90 Ibid., III.6.5. 91 Ibid., III.6.3. 82 83

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itself (reoriented toward Christ) serves as an incentive for believers to strive into a more perfect union with Christ: Now, the law has power to exhort believers...to shake off their sluggishness, by repeatedly urging them, and to pinch them to their imperfection. Therefore, many persons, wishing to express such liberation from the curse, say that for believers the law—I am still speaking of the moral law—has been abrogated. Not that the law no longer enjoins believers to do what is right, but only that it is not for them what it formerly was: it may no longer condemn and destroy their consciences by frightening and confounding them.92

when he suggests that the law continues to enjoin believers to do what is right, Calvin is making the important point that faith in Christ’s atonement does not abrogate the moral gap (to borrow a phrase from John Hare93) between law’s requirements and one’s inability to fulfill them. It is vital, Calvin reminds us, to “accurately distinguish what in the law has been abrogated from what still remains in force.”94 what is removed is the curse—the law’s power to “condemn and destroy” the conscience “by frightening and confounding” it.95 But when believers “apprehend the Mediator” in the law it is transformed into an object of “delight or sweetness,” instilling the desire to strive toward a more perfect union with Christ, the one who took upon himself the curse of the law and discharged the punishment due to us. 96 This is in part the meaning behind Calvin’s statement: “The law of God contains in itself that newness by which his image can be restored in us.”97 Later on he says: But Scripture draws its exhortation from the true foundation. It not only enjoins us to refer our life to God, its author, to whom it is bound; but after it has taught that we have degenerated from the true origin and condition of our creation, it also adds Christ, through whom we return into favor with God, has been set before us as an example [exemplar], whose pattern we ought to express in our life [cuius formam in vita nostra exprimamus].98

In so far as the “pinch”99 of imperfection is no longer tethered to the anxiety over one’s salvation, the recognition of the gap can be transformed into a motivational scheme to goad, spur, and exhort believers toward a more perfect union with Christ. In short, Calvin intertwines the motivation of gratitude for grace with a new sort of tension derived from the recognition of the gap between our imperfections and the perfection of the law in Christ. Rather than leading to despair, this (moral or imaginative) gap, combined with gratitude, illustrates a motivational scheme for promoting works and striving into a more perfect union with Christ. Calvin’s focus 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99

Ibid., II.7.14. John E. Hare, The Moral Gap, Oxford: Oxford university press 1996. Institutes of the Christian Religion, II.7.14. Ibid. Ibid., II.7.12. Ibid., III.6.1. Ibid., III.6.3. Ibid., II.7.14.

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here is not on the negative (and crushing) effect of the law, but on the constructive (and exhortative) role of the law. Calvin does not deny that the validity of the negative (first and second) uses of the law in the life of the Christian, but he does deny that law acts only in negative ways in the life of faith. II. Calvin and the “Use of the Prototype” in Kierkegaard’s Authorship Kierkegaard’s relation to his Lutheran heritage, in particular his view on the “uses” of the law, is a matter of some controversy. On the one hand, it is clear that he sought to revitalize the law in some capacity to offset what he describes as the “demoralization”100 of grace by the official proclamation of Christianity in Denmark, and that he tended to associate the theme of “Christ as the prototype” (as well as the imperative to “imitate” Christ) to the category of law. In accentuating the importance of law in Christian life, Kierkegaard wished to prevent Christianity from degenerating into a “thoroughgoing secularity”101 and “at least dialectically to train” his readers in “the need for grace.”102 On the other hand, however, some commentators have asked whether Kierkegaard also affirms a distinctive third or didactic use of the law, which, although first propagated by Melanchthon as a Lutheran innovation, has largely come to be identified as a hallmark of the Calvinist tradition.103 But two, somewhat under-analyzed, factors make it difficult to offer a simple evaluation of Kierkegaard’s position with respect to the uses of the law—or, as Amy Laura Hall frames the question, whether there is “a ‘third’ use of Christ as ‘model’ in Kierkegaard’s writing.”104 The first variable is that Kierkegaard’s own understanding of the “use of the prototype”105 (an expression Kierkegaard himself uses) becomes noticeably more nuanced after the publication of Works of Love in 1847, which is, incidentally, the year he began earnestly reading from Luther’s corpus. In fact, the period between 1847 and the early 1850s was for him a time of intense scrutiny of a perennial problem in the Lutheran faith—the task of “giving works a constructive role within the believer’s life,” which, according to Steven Ozment, was commonly shared by all (post-Luther) protestant theologians.106 And as he becomes more SKS 25, 70–1, NB26:67 / JP 2, 1487. SKS 25, 122–3, NB27:7 / JP 2, 1488. SKS 26, 268, NB33:26 / JP 2, 1500. 101 SKS 25, 251–2, NB28:48 / JP 2, 1923. 102 SKS 24, 395, NB24:118 / JP 2, 1906. 103 See Lee C. Barrett, “Faith, works, and uses of the Law: Kierkegaard’s Appropriation of Lutheran Doctrine,” in For Self-Examination and Judge for Yourself!, ed. by Robert L. perkins, Macon, Georgia: Mercer university press 2002 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 21), pp. 77–109. See also David Gouwens, Kierkegaard as Religious Thinker, Cambridge: Cambridge university press 1996, pp. 127–33; p. 196. 104 Amy Laura Hall, Kierkegaard and the Treachery of Love, Cambridge: Cambridge university press 2002, p. 16. 105 SKS 22, 249, NB12:177 / JP 2, 1857. 106 Steven Ozment, The Age of Reform 1250–1550, p. 377: “All protestant theologians shared the common problem of giving good works a constructive role within the believer’s life without at the same time succumbing to the pelagian covenant theology of the Middle Ages, in opposition to which protestant theology had been born.” 100

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attentive to the relation of faith and works in Luther’s theology—to the point of being able to declare by 1849 that “truly, I have also understood Luther well”107— Kierkegaard’s interest in the ideas of Luther’s greatest and most controversial disciples, John Calvin and philip Melanchthon, also grows. Given Kierkegaard’s lack of critical distance from Luther in 1847, it is not surprising that commentators who focus on Works of Love have tended to resist attributing a distinctive third use to his authorship. Amy Laura Hall, for example, maintains that to move beyond the theological use “to a new and distinguishable third use, is, in effect, to imperil the relation whereby we come to emulate Christ.”108 By Hall’s reading, Kierkegaard is intent not so much on parlaying norms and exhortations for the performance of good works but on making people more receptive to grace by revealing the potential vanity in all human endeavors, such that to read him as intending to promote Christian virtue, is, as she puts it, to “mitigate” and potentially to “miss and undermine the meaning of his text.”109 while Hall acknowledges that parts of Works of Love can be read in a Calvinistic way (i.e., as implying a didactic use of the law for the cultivation of Christian virtue and the promotion of striving), she insists that such a reading “weakens” the link Kierkegaard forges “between love and our sense of vast indebtedness.”110 Hall writes, “For Kierkegaard, love depends on our abidingly repentant sense of potential and actual transgression....Kierkegaard intends a full conversion from the way of sin and death, and he believes that such a conversion requires a drastic change of perspective. To mitigate either contrast is potentially to miss and undermine the meaning of the text.”111 Although it is unclear why Hall depicts the “drastic change of perspective,” which Kierkegaard seemingly requires, by opposing the confession of sin only against self-concern over one’s moral progress, when, in fact, the text also seeks to establish a more constructive link between the confession of sin and the cultivation of the virtue of (agape or other-regarding) love, her point is well taken. The rhetorical force of Works of Love is intended primarily to offend, crush, and alienate its readers in order to promote a confession of sin. Later journal entries seem to confirm the view that Kierkegaard, at least at the time of writing Works of Love, adhered to the classical Lutheran principle that the “law always accuses,” and conceptualized the role of the prototype principally in terms of its “crushing” effect. As a case in point, two years after the publication of Works of Love Kierkegaard comments on the similarity between Luther’s description of the theological use of the law and his own “use of the prototype” in past writings. He writes, “I find that what he (Luther) says about preaching the law corresponds to what I am accustomed to say concerning the use of the prototype [Forbilledet] SKS 22, 241, NB12:162 / JP 3, 2503. “I see very clearly how I could be attacked from Luther’s own position, but, truly, I have also understood Luther well—and therefore I have also taken care not to tumble around in a fog, as if everything were still as it was in Luther’s day.” 108 Hall, Kierkegaard and the Treachery of Love, p. 16. 109 Ibid., p. 13. 110 Ibid.: “Moreover, to read love as the cultivation of Christian virtue implies productive effort, stability and clarity, whereas Kierkegaard narrates love as requiring our being thrown consistently off balance, in spite of ourselves.” 111 Ibid. 107

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in order to preach men to bits so that they turn to grace.”112 In the postil under consideration, Luther asserts that “through the law man learns how difficult and how impossible the fulfillment of the law is,”113 and therefore, in response to it “man must humble himself, and confess that he is lost and that all his works are sins, aye, that his whole life is sinful.”114 The law has made “all sinners, has condemned works and told you to despair of yourself.”115 Luther’s accent here is clearly on the accusatory function of the law—the law intended to “humiliate man, to cut out and annihilate his presumption”116 and to intensify a personal awareness of sin. Kierkegaard remarks that this description of the accusatory function of the law is “absolutely correct” and that when the law is rightly proclaimed a person “becomes aware of his wretchedness—and then he becomes embittered about the law—and this is precisely the judgment upon him.”117 Kierkegaard then concludes the entry with a more categorical remark: “The law captures totally, not by thundering about this one or that one of a man’s actual sins, but by making him in total desperation a rebel against the law, from which he nevertheless cannot tear himself—and thus he is captured.”118 There are other entries from this period, specifically on Melanchthon’s Augsburg Confession and the Apology,119 in which Kierkegaard basically reiterates the belief that the principal “use of the prototype” (or law) is to “preach men to bits so that they (may) turn to grace.”120 In an 1848 entry, for example, he expresses approval of parts of Melanchthon’s Augsburg Confession which discuss the law’s role in revealing sin and driving the conscience into despair. According to Kierkegaard, the Augsburg Confession rightly “teaches that it must be revealed to a man how great a sinner he is. For without a divine yard-stick, no human being is the great sinner (this he is—only before God).”121 In yet another entry Kierkegaard offers a more glowing review of the same: “[T]he Augsburg Confession is masterly in declaring that on his own a man has no true idea of how deep a corruption sin is, that he must be informed of this by a revelation—and quite rightly so, because it is a part of sin to have only a shallow notion of sin and also because only God, the Holy One, has the truly divine idea.”122 The difference, of course, between Melanchthon and Kierkegaard is that the latter thinks that in an age in which people have grown culturally acclimated

SKS 22, 249, NB12:177 / JP 2, 1857 (italics added). Martin Luther, Church Postil for the Fourth Sunday in Advent, Sermons of Martin Luther, ed. and trans. by John Nicholas Lenker, Grand Rapids, Michigan: Baker Book House 1905, p. 132. 114 Ibid. 115 Ibid. 116 Ibid., p. 124. 117 SKS 22, 250, NB12:177 / JP 2, 1857. 118 Ibid. 119 Kierkegaard owned three editions of the Augsburg Confession, one of which contains Melanchthon’s Apology (ASKB 386, 387, and 469). 120 SKS 22, 249, NB12:177 / JP 2, 1857. 121 Pap. vIII–1 A 675 / JP 2, 1216. 122 SKS 23, 100, NB16:6 / JP 4, 4035. 112 113

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to a “burlesque edition of the doctrine of grace,”123 it is necessary to “jack up the price so enormously that the prototype [Forbilledet] itself teaches men to resort to grace.”124 Still, Kierkegaard’s basic critique of the Danish ecclesial establishment in the late 1840s seems generally to fall within the boundaries of Lutheran Orthodoxy, as defined by Luther in his Small and Large Catechisms and Melanchthon in the Instruction, Augsburg Confession and the Apology. Like Luther and the early Melanchthon who invoked the accusatory function of the law to deter licentious and antinomian abuses of the gospel, Kierkegaard proclaims the law, with “a thoroughly qualitative intensification,”125 in order to nurture an awareness of sin and to encourage confession. In addition to substantiating the claim that Kierkegaard, at least at the time of writing Works of Love, seemingly aligned his own “rigorous proclamation of law”126 to the historic Lutheran priority on its accusatory function, these journal entries also point to an important source-critical consideration. They reveal that Kierkegaard began supplementing his reading of Luther’s postils with a review (and eventual reevaluation127) of the key confessional document, the Magna Charta, of the Danish Lutheran Church.128 Actually, Kierkegaard’s decision to read the Church Postils, instead of Luther’s more famous works, was probably as much a function of his awareness of its privileged status in the Danish Lutheran Church as it was a function of a personal wish for spiritual edification. Moreover, if we consider Kierkegaard’s reading list from 1847 to the early 1850s, we can detect a progression—a source-critical chain, as it were—beginning with Luther’s postils, then a review of the Augsburg Confession and the Apology, and culminating in the titles under consideration in this discussion—paul Henry’s Das Leben Johann SKS 23, 471, NB20:150 / JP 2, 1878. SKS 22, 241, NB12:162 / JP 3, 2503. 125 SKS 24, 393, NB24:115 / JP 2, 1905. 126 SKS 25, 123, NB27:7 / JP 2, 1488. 127 Kierkegaard later adopts a much more critical stance toward the Augsburg Confession. In 1851, for example, he criticizes the Augsburg Confession’s definition of the church—that is, “where the word is rightly taught and the sacraments rightly administered.” Kierkegaard offers a noticeably Calvinistic critique by arguing that this twofold definition of the church overlooks a critical third mark, “the communion of saints.” without this third mark, the church is “made into a communion of indifferent existences,” and actually diminished into “paganism.” The timing and language of this entry suggest that Kierkegaard may have been responding to Paul Henry’s discussion of Calvin’s definition of the church, which includes a distinctive third mark (“the sinews of discipline”), in contrast to the Lutheran definition of the Augsburg Confession. See paul Henry, Das Leben Johann Calvins, vol. 2, pp. 79–179 (especially p. 91). See also Kierkegaard’s 1851 entry (SKS 24, 324, NB24:7 / JP 1, 600) as well as an entry from 1853 (SKS 25, 219–21, NB28:7 / JP 3, 2898). 128 According to Trygve R. Skarsten, “In the Lutheran state churches of Scandinavia the Augsburg Confession has long occupied a position of preeminence among the confessional writings of the sixteenth century. Aloof from the internal squabbles that ravaged the Luther church in Germany following Luther’s death in 1546, only the reformer’s Small Catechism can be said to rival the Augsburg Confession in impact and influence.” Tyrgve R. Skarsten, “The Reception of the Augsburg Confession in Scandinavia,” Sixteenth Century Journal, vol. 11, no. 3, 1980, p. 86. 123 124

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Calvins and Friedrich Galle’s Melanchthon als Theolog.129 This progression suggests that Kierkegaard may have been looking to Calvin and Melanchthon to refine his own arguments about the “uses” of the prototype. Not out a concern for tradition itself or out of an interest in systematic theology, but probably out of a wish to formulate a more effective immanent critique of the Lutheranism of his day, we can envision Kierkegaard sifting through the ideas of Luther’s controversial disciples to sharpen his attacks upon Christendom. At the very least, these sourcecritical considerations steer our attention past Works of Love, the focus of Hall’s analysis, toward Kierkegaard’s later writings. In other words, even if we concede that Kierkegaard’s earlier affirmation of Christianity “as law” generally conforms to the Lutheran description of it as “always accusing,” we still need to examine his later writings to see if traces of Calvinistic influences can be detected. The question is whether Kierkegaard modifies or supplements his earlier propositions about the accusatory “use of the prototype” with a distinctive third use, and how, if at all, his review of Calvin’s theology impacts his subsequent writings. understandably, scholars who defend a third use in Kierkegaard’s authorship have typically focused on his later writings, notably For Self-Examination and Judge for Yourself! Lee Barrett, for example, argues that in these two essays written in the period between 1851 and 1852 the theological use “did not exhaust Kierkegaard’s purpose in confronting the reader with the ‘law’ and its demands for works.”130 Barrett suggests that these essays project a law that “does more than provoke the sinner to flee to grace” and develop a different trajectory which implies “a more positive role for the law in fostering a Christianly valuable way of life.”131 This trajectory intends a “more complementary relationship” between faith and striving and establishes the “imperative to “imitate” Christ’s prototypical life” as not just “instrumentally valuable in producing guilt,” but “as being intrinsically valuable.”132 However, Barrett’s analysis draws our attention to the second difficulty in evaluating Kierkegaard’s view on the uses of the law. Consider the different criteria used by Hall and Barrett in evaluating Kierkegaard’s fidelity to his Lutheran heritage. whereas Hall argues that moving beyond the theological to a distinguishable third or didactic use mitigates a Lutheran reading of Kierkegaard (and strengthens a Calvinistic one), Barrett, on the contrary, takes the third use as actually confirming Kierkegaard’s commitment to a historic Lutheran doctrine and to his Lutheran heritage. This discrepancy has less to do with the exegesis of specific texts and more to do with varying presuppositions about what constitutes an orthodox Lutheran or Calvinist position with respect to the uses of the law. And this apparent discrepancy In 1851 Kierkegaard read Galle’s Melanchthon als Theolog. The final three chapters (pp. 395–468) cover the theological exchange between Calvin and his Lutheran counterparts, especially in the second half of the sixteenth century—a period defined by the consolidation of Lutheran confessional identity in opposition to the growing influence of Calvinism in southern Germany. See SKS 24, 426, NB24:160 / JP 3, 3056. Furthermore, in 1851 Kierkegaard also read petersen’s Die Idee der christlichen Kirche. See footnote 22 above. 130 Barrett, “Faith, works, and uses of the Law: Kierkegaard’s Appropriation of Lutheran Doctrine,” p. 91. 131 Ibid., pp. 91–2. 132 Ibid., p. 92. 129

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invites us to consider Kierkegaard’s position against the backdrop of one of the most controversial issues in protestant theology. Although it is often assumed that the key issue which separated Calvin from Luther was the controversy over the Lord’s Supper, John Hesselink points out, “what may have been a bigger barrier—even though it never became a matter of controversy between Luther and Calvin—were their differing approaches to the relation of law and gospel” and to the uses of the law in Christian life.133 In fact, many Lutheran theologians consider this issue as the fundamental difference between Luther and Calvin. But Lee Barrett, perhaps in the interest of establishing Kierkegaard’s fidelity to his Lutheran heritage, navigates around the controversial status of the third use of the law within Lutheranism by identifying the Formula of Concord as representing the “clearest articulation” of the doctrine within the Lutheran tradition and as a possible source for Kierkegaard.134 The problem, of course, is that the Formula of Concord does not contain an unqualified Lutheran endorsement of the doctrine. On the contrary, the intent of Article Iv was to bring to an end decades of Lutheran infighting over this very issue—whether the third use of the law strengthens or weakens Luther’s insight about justification by faith and his legacy proper—by adjudicating a middle way (i.e., a dogmatic compromise) between the Gnesio-Lutheran and philippist factions.135 By identifying the Formula of Concord as a possible source (or at least a reference point) for Kierkegaard’s later advocacy of a didactic use of the prototype, Barrett, rather than clearly establishing Kierkegaard’s fidelity to his Lutheran heritage, renders it more problematic by yoking Kierkegaard’s views to one of the most controversial and divisive issues in protestant theology, a controversy that not only helped to splinter the evangelical reform movement into rival Lutheran and Reformed Churches but also, for a while, helped to divide Lutheranism into rival factions. III. “Christianity...must again be proclaimed unconditionally as imitation, as law” One indication that Kierkegaard began envisioning a positive use of the law is that he (starting around 1850) begins criticizing how Lutheranism’s exclusive focus I. John Hesselink, “Luther and Calvin on Law and Gospel in their Galatians Commentaries,” Reformed Review, vol. 37, no. 2, 1984, p. 69. 134 Barrett, “Faith, works, and the uses of the Law: Kierkegaard’s Appropriation of Lutheran Doctrine,” p. 105. 135 According to Werner Elert the third use, as it is narrowly defined in the Formula of Concord, “does not differ from the first and second in the kind of validity, it differs functionally with reference to the area of validity...Functionally it does not differ in any respect from the usus spiritualis, i.e., proprius or theologicus.” As a dogmatic compromise en route to bolstering Lutheran solidarity, the Formula of Concord stipulates a third use, but in its explanation “veers away” from Calvin and the later Melanchthon and “returns” to Luther and the early Melanchthon. In other words, while the Formula of Concord formally endorses a third use (as a compromise to the philippists), it also seeks to restrict the meaning of the term “law” to rule out Calvinistic formulations of the doctrine of the third use. See Elert, The Christian Ethos, pp. 296–300. 133

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on the condemnatory function of the law has contributed to its demoralization. Lutheran Orthodoxy, Kierkegaard suggests, has evolved to such an extent that now it considers all human desire “to strive after perfection” as “presumption, a detestable presumption.”136 when Luther poignantly opposed the law to the promise of grace and characterized it as a curse, his intent was to remove the “unhealthiness and falsity” of merit from works so that works could be retained “in honesty, in humility, in beneficial activity.”137 However, the official proclamation of Christianity in Denmark has taken the “genuinely Christian thesis” that a person “is capable of nothing at all”—the core premise of the theological use—and transformed it into a “password” for disengaging the law altogether.138 In a subtle distortion orthodox Lutheranism now prioritizes the law as condemnation in such a way that when a person “simply wanting to love Christ to the extent that one strives to be like [at ligne] him,” this is now “bluntly regarded as presumption.”139 Suppressing the fact that Luther was seeking to eliminate the monastic-ascetic presumption of merit, the new status quo encourages the discontinuance of striving “in order not to be presumptuous.”140 In an 1851 journal entry Kierkegaard writes: we not only exempt ourselves from the rigorousness—no, we interpret rigorousness as pride, and then going scot-free is supposed to be commendable humility...to venture out in striving toward the ideal—what would happen? The very thing which would help him when the suffering begins would be precisely this “You shall.” There is no nonsense about this “you shall,” and it means every one. Now they say instead: Detestable pride, the suffering is well deserved—punishment for pride.141

Luther had said: “A law that does not condemn is a fictitious and painted law like a chimera or tragelaphus” (an imaginary beast of medieval folklore).142 Likewise, Melanchthon in the Apology maintained: “The law always accuses.” But in leaving out the dialectical and polemical intent of these statements, Lutheranism now upholds as its highest achievement the confession, “I am too humble to aspire to anything like that...I am too humble to aspire to the highest or to will the highest.”143 From the genuine Christian proposition that we are capable of nothing, that we are saved by sheer grace, it has devised “despairing humility,” which moves from the always accusing law to the dismissal of imitation as “too exalted.”144 And behind the façade of humility stands two conveniences: first, a freedom from the strenuousness of the law, and second, being honored and esteemed for one’s humility.145

136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145

SKS 25, 70, NB26:67 / JP 2, 1487. SV1 XII, 306 / FSE, 15. SKS 24, 190–1, NB22:159 / JP 2, 1482. SKS 23, 413, NB20:38a / JP 2, 1871. SKS 26, 148–9, NB32:46 / JP 2, 1935. SKS 23, 413, NB20:38a / JP 2, 1871. SKS 24, 385, NB24:105 / JP 2, 1904. Cited in Elert, The Christian Ethos, p. 303. SKS 26, 149, NB32:46 / JP 2, 1935. SKS 25, 251, NB28:48 / JP 2, 1923. Ibid.

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Against such presumption Kierkegaard draws attention to the fact that Christ himself commands his followers to be like him—not just rhetorically or instrumentally (with the aim of provoking people to flee to grace), but more directly, as if wanting to fulfill the law was something inherently good. Christ does not say, “You presumptuous ones, what detestable presumption for you to consider wanting to be perfect, etc.! No, Christ speaks very directly, as if he thought wanting to be perfect was something good.”146 Referring to Christ’s response to the rich young ruler, Kierkegaard comments, “Yes, in the New Testament it says that Christ thought well of him, because there really was in him a stirring in the direction of wanting to be perfect.”147 Christ did not say, “Thus have I lived and suffered; you are not to concern yourselves with all this; you are only to look to me and let all be well.”148 Instead, Christ makes his appearance in the middle of actuality, and by his authoritative teachings and example, says: “Imitate me; imitation is Christianity.”149 Furthermore, in Judge for Yourself! Kierkegaard points out that Christ did not live in relative obscurity, but fastened everyone’s attention upon himself. If his intent was only to die on the cross to atone for humanity’s sin, he could have lived hidden from public view, off the stage of the world. But this was not how Christ lived; this was not his intention. Instead, he wished “to make it known in the world, and that is why he had to step out on the stage of the human race” and “remained in the world; he did not withdraw from the world.”150 In fact, Christ dwelled on earth a sufficient duration so that people might observe through the entire course of his life what it means to fulfill the law. Elaborating in a journal entry, Kierkegaard writes: “Nowadays we say: He suffered and died simply to save me. Fine, but it is equally true that the fact that his whole life was suffering was to leave me footprints in which to walk.”151 Christ could have gone on living “in quiet obscurity” as if his life was a “secret worship in which he belonged, and totally belonged, to the one master until death finally came.”152 But this was not his intention; his intent was, instead, to leave footprints in which his disciples might walk. In conjunction with his discussions about the demoralization of faith, Kierkegaard develops two trajectories that conceptually parallel Calvin’s distinction between the “two ways” by which believers are said to “still profit from the law.”153Although Kierkegaard sometimes focuses on the law as source of (moral) knowledge or SKS 25, 70, NB26:67 / JP 2, 1487. Ibid. 148 SKS 20, 269, NB3:46 / JP 2, 1842. 149 SKS 26, 44, NB31:60 / JP 2, 1932. 150 SV1 XII, 439 / JFY 168. See also SKS 25, 158–9, NB27:45 / JP 2, 1920. “It may also be said that if Christ were only the Redeemer, then his death would be primary and he need not have lived so long on earth, need not have let himself be born as an infant, grow up, and so on.” 151 SKS 23, 400, NB20:19 / JP 2, 1866 (italics added). See also SV1 XII, 423 / JFY, 147. “Yet you left your footprints, you, the holy prototype for the human race and for every individual, so that by your Atonement the saved might at every moment find the confidence and boldness to want to strive to follow you.” 152 SV1 XII, 439 / JFY, 167. 153 Institutes of the Christian Religion, II.7.12. 146 147

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information—for example, when criticizing medieval conceptions of what was supposed to be true imitation—he gives greater prominence to the exhortative or motivational capacity of the law—the law, reoriented toward Christ, which restores the requisite “tension of the life of faith.”154 I am not suggesting that Kierkegaard was deliberately appropriating Calvin’s distinction between the informative and exhortative features of the law (although that is a possibility), but that the distinction helps us to appreciate nuances in Kierkegaard’s own position. As I see it, commentators often conflate the negative (theological) and the positive (exhortative) functions of the law. In one of his earlier deliberations on a distinctly positive use of the law, Kierkegaard compares the application of law to a tightening of a bowstring: “The law’s requirement is a tightening. To be sure, tightening such as the tightening of a bowstring creates motion, but one can tighten a bowstring to the breaking point. This is precisely what the law as such does.”155 In other words, the law’s effect upon the conscience is to generate psychological (or existential) tension and the greater the tension the greater the potential momentum. However, it is possible to exert too much pressure, such that the law, rather than propelling a person into future activity, brings him or her to a breaking point, to a paralyzing anxiety and despair. “Yet it is not the requirement of the law which breaks, but that which is added—the fact that your eternal salvation depends upon your fulfillment of the requirement.”156 Thus, for Kierkegaard the cause of despair is not the law itself, but that which is added to the law as an “appendage”—namely, the belief that salvation is linked to the condition of fulfilling the law. When this appendage is removed, the tensing exertion of the law is capable of becoming the basis of mobility for action. Grace, in other words, transforms the dynamics of striving by eliminating the concern over one’s eternal destination, “which at its maximum must bring me to despair and make me utterly incapable of fulfilling even the least of the law’s requirements—but the requirement is the same.”157 with the assistance of grace, the law helps renew striving by goading or exhorting believers towards the object of their faith—that is, by exerting a creative tension upon the imagination, and thereby, propelling believers into future activity. Just as it was for Calvin, the vital issue is what in the law has been abrogated and what still remains in force. Kierkegaard writes: Is it Christianity’s intention to eliminate striving by means of grace? No, Christianity simply wants to have the law fulfilled, if possible, by means of grace. To that end Christianity acts like this. when this and this are required of a man, but in such a way that whether or not he does it decides his eternal salvation, he must sink down in despair at once, suffocate in despair, just as if he had lost his breath. That this is SKS 23, 177, NB17:19 / JP 1, 8. SKS 22, 382–3, NB14:65 / JP 2, 1475. 156 SKS 22, 383, NB14:65 / JP 2, 1475. “Then comes ‘grace.’ Naturally, it knows very well what the trouble is, where the shoe pinches. It takes away this concern, the appendage of the fulfilling of the law, which is precisely what made the fulfilling of the law impossible. ‘Grace’ takes away this concern and says: Only believe—then eternal salvation is assured to you. But no more, not the slightest abatement of the law’s demand; now you are to begin to realize precisely this.” 157 SKS 22, 382, NB14:65 / JP 2, 1475. 154 155

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David Yoon-Jung Kim decisive for his soul’s salvation puts too dreadfully great a pressure on him—this is why he cannot. Christianity thinks somewhat along these lines: It is anxiety which makes him unable to do it; it is anxiety which makes him totally incapable of doing it—take the anxiety away, and then you will see that he can do it all right. The situation is like that of a child who has been made so anxious he cannot do anything—the wiser teacher will perhaps say: It is anxiety which makes him incapable, take that away and you will see that he can do it, all right, at least a good share of it. It is the same with Christianity and grace. Take away this anxiety for the salvation of his soul—this is what makes him incapable. This is removed by grace—you are saved by grace, by grace through faith. Take this anxiety away, and you will see that he can do it, all right. Christianity’s intention is: now as never before under the law we shall see what a man can achieve. 158

The law’s requirement is a constant; it remains “the same, unaltered, perhaps even sharpened under grace.”159 The Christian, freed from the burden of self-salvation, is able to discover “the courage and the desire to exert himself,” precisely because (moral) failure no longer has the effect it once had. Failure before the law no longer “sinks” and “suffocates a person in despair.”160 what is the difference between someone with faith, who is propelled into grateful striving, and someone without faith, who suffocates under the weight of despair? The difference cannot be that the former is without sin. The difference is, instead, in how one regards failure and how one is kept in striving under the law’s requirements: “when a pagan sins—and precisely and more profound and noble he is—there is a dreadful halt in striving; he sinks into depression, broods introspectively over his guilt, and the sin then perhaps gets more and more power over him, so that he despairingly sinks deeper and deeper.”161 However, a person who clings to faith has an assurance. with faith a person can take refuge in grace, not unlike a child whose “sin is transformed for him into fatherly punishment intended to help him go forward.”162 Thus, rather than making a person indolent, faith enables one to “venture all the more intrepidly” to strive (albeit imperfectly) to fulfill the law’s requirements, since “whatever happens to him at least this ought not happen to him—that, however, badly things turn out, he loses his eternal salvation—because for this there is grace.”163 To further illustrate the positive use of the prototype and to clarify the relation between faith and striving, Kierkegaard distinguishes between “grace for the past” and “grace for the future.” According to Kierkegaard, no matter how sinfully a person has lived, there is always grace for the past. “In relation to your past to some particular event in your past—yes, even though your life deserved the most severe punishment ever imposed—it still holds true: there is grace; through faith in the

158 159 160 161 162 163

SKS 25, 123–4, NB27:8 / JP 2, 1489. SKS 22, 382, NB14:65 / JP 2, 1475. SKS 25, 124, NB27:8 / JP 2, 1489. SKS 23, 83, NB15:118 / JP 4, 4032. Ibid. SKS 25, 124, NB27:8 / JP 2, 1489.

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Atonement you are forgiven.”164 Grace is so “infinitely open-handed” that it gives a sinner the permission to say, it is all “something past, and I am forgiven it; grace is offered.”165 But now, when we turn to the other side, to the future, the question arises: What kind of life shall a person lead in the future? The only way a person can appropriate grace in relation to something past is to cling to faith and trust in the offer of forgiveness in Christ. But, now, what about the future? Kierkegaard’s answer is that grace can be meaningfully embraced only against the backdrop of unfulfilled requirements, only when a person earnestly engages the prototype for the future. “Christ is the Atoner. This is continually in relation to the past. But at the same moment he is the Atoner for the past he is ‘the prototype’ [‘Forbilledet’] for the future.”166 The temptation is, of course, to evade the task of imitation by limiting the meaning of the “prototype” to the theological use and not moving onto a new and distinctive third use. But this would imperil the relation Kierkegaard forges between continual striving and grace for the future. The positive use of the prototype, in this sense, rests on the fact that unless there is an earnest effort to fulfill the law’s requirements, an earnest attempt to imitate Christ, grace will seem abstract and be easily taken in vain.

164 165 166

SKS 25, 144, NB27:27 / JP 2, 1918. Ibid. SKS 25, 158, NB27:44 / JP 2, 1919.

Bibliography I. Calvin’s Works in The Auction Catalogue of Kierkegaard’s Library Ioannis Calvini in novum testamentum commentarii, vols. 1–7, ed. by August Tholuck, Berlin: Eichler 1833–34 (ASKB 92–95). Joannis Calvini Institutio christianae religionis, vols. 1–2, ed. by August Tholuck, Berlin: Eichler 1834–35 (ASKB 455–456). II. Works in The Auction Catalogue of Kierkegaard’s Library that Discuss Calvin Baur, Ferdinand Christian, Die christliche Gnosis oder die christliche ReligionsPhilosophie in ihrer geschichtlichen Entwicklung, Tübingen: C.F. Osiander 1835, p. 555 (ASKB 421). —— Die christliche Lehre von der Versöhnung in ihrer geschichtlichen Entwicklung von der ältesten Zeit bis auf die neueste, Tübingen: C.F. Osiander 1838, p. 307; p. 331; p. 349; p. 367; p. 372 (ASKB 423). Brøchner, Hans, Nogle Bemærkninger om Daaben, foranledigede ved Professor Martensens Skrift: “Den christelige Daab,” Copenhagen: p.G. philipsen 1843, pp. 18–19; pp. 45–6 (ASKB u 27). Carriere, Moriz, Die philosophische Weltanschauung der Reformationszeit in ihren Beziehungen zur Gegenwart, Stuttgart and Tübingen: J.G. Cotta 1847, pp. 264–5 (ASKB 458). Clausen, Henrik Nicolai, Det Nye Testaments Hermeneutik, Copenhagen: Jens Hostrup Schultz 1840, p. 264 (ASKB 468). Flögel, Karl Friedrich, Geschichte der komischen Litteratur, vols. 1–4, Liegnitz and Leipzig: David Siegert 1784–87, vol. 2, pp. 480–2 (ASKB 1396–1399). Guerike, Heinrich Ernst Ferdinand, Handbuch der Kirchengeschichte, vols. 1–2, 3rd revised and enlarged ed., Halle: Gebauersche Buchhandlung 1838, vol. 2, p. 879; p. 909; p. 1023; p. 1029; p. 1031; p. 106; pp. 1109ff.; pp. 1112–15; p. 1161; p. 1176; p. 1179 (ASKB 158–159). Hahn, August (ed.) Lehrbuch des christlichen Glaubens, Leipzig: vogel 1828, p. 94; p. 363; pp. 389ff.; p. 424; p. 482; p. 576; pp. 588ff.; p. 601; p. 638 (ASKB 535). Hansen, M. Mørk, Populær Fremstilling af Kirkens Historie for tænkende Christne, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1848, pp. 199–201 (ASKB 167). Hase, Karl, Kirkehistorie. Lærebog nærmest for akademiske Forelæsninger, trans. by C. winther and T. Schorn, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1837, pp. 448–9; p. 483 (ASKB 160–166).

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—— Hutterus redivivus oder Dogmatik der evangelisch-lutherischen Kirche. Ein dogmatisches Repertorium für Studirende, 4th revised ed., Leipzig: Breitkopf und Härtel 1839, p. 36; p. 38; p. 137; p. 216; p. 299; p. 306; p. 312 (ASKB 581). Henry, paul, “Johan Calvins Levnet,” Tidsskrift for udenlandsk theologisk Litteratur, vols. 1–20, ed. by Henrik Nicolai Clausen and Matthias Hagen Hohlenberg, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1833–52, vol. 4, 1836, pp. 491–529 (ASKB u 29). [Leibniz, Gottfried wilhelm], God. Guil. Leibnitii Opera philosophica, quæ exstant latina gallica germanica omnia, vols. 1–2, ed. by Johann Eduard Erdmann, Berlin: [Eichler] 1839–40, p. 484; p. 524; p. 534; p. 558; p. 602 (ASKB 620). Martensen, Hans Lassen, Den christelige Dogmatik, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1849, p. 196; p. 298; pp. 435–9 passim; p. 507; pp. 520–1 (ASKB 653). Meiners, Christoph, Historische Vergleichung der Sitten und Verfassungen, der Gesetze und Gewerbe, des Handels und der Religion, der Wissenschaften und Lehranstalten des Mittelalters mit denen unsers Jahrhunderts in Rücksicht auf die Vortheile, und Nachtheile der Aufklärung, vols. 1–3, Hannover: im verlage der Helwingischen Hofbuchhandlung 1793–94, vol. 3, p. 554 (ASKB 672–674). Müller, Julius, Die christliche Lehre von der Sünde, vols. 1–2, 3rd revised and enlarged ed., Breslau: Josef Max und Komp. 1849, vol. 1, pp. 351–64 (ASKB 689–690). [Münscher, wilhelm], Dr. Wilhelm Münschers Lærebog i den christelige Kirkehistorie, til Brug ved Forelæsninger, trans. by Frederik Münter, revised and ed. by Jens Möller, Copenhagen: Trykt paa universitets-Boghandler F. Brummers Forlag 1831, pp. 219ff.; p. 279; p. 281 (ASKB 168). Mynster, Jakob peter, Blandede Skrivter, vols. 1–3, Copenhagen: Gyldendal 1852–53 [vols. 4–6, Copenhagen: Gyldendal 1855–57], vol. 1, p. 407 ASKB 358–363). Nielsen, Rasmus, De speculativa historiæ sacræ tractandæ methodo commentatio, Copenhagen: Tengnagel 1840, p. 46 (ASKB 697). —— Forelæsningsparagrapher til Kirkehistoriens Philosophie. Et Schema for Tilhørere, Copenhagen: p.G. philipsens Forlag 1843, p. 63 (ASKB 698). —— Evangelietroen og Theologien. Tolv Forelæsninger holdte ved Universitetet i Kjøbenhavn i Vinteren 1849–50, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1850, p. 113 (ASKB 702). petersen, August, Die Idee der christlichen Kirche. Zur wissenschaftlichen Beantwortung der Lebensfrage unserer Zeit. Ein theologischer Versuch, vols. 1–3, Leipzig: vogel 1839–46, vol. 3, pp. 322–30; pp. 451–88 (ASKB 717–719). Rudelbach, Andreas Gottlob, Reformation, Lutherthum und Union. Eine historischdogmatische Apologie der Lutherischen Kirche und ihres Lehrbegriffs, Leipzig: Tauchnitz jun. 1839, pp. 185–308 (ASKB 751). Schleiermacher, Friedrich, Der christliche Glaube nach den Grundsä[t]zen der evangelischen Kirche im Zusammenhange dargestellt, vols. 1–2, 3rd ed., Berlin: G. Reimer 1835–36 (vols. 3–4, in Friedrich Schleiermacher’s sämmtliche Werke, Erste Abtheilung. Zur Theologie, Berlin: G. Reimer 1834–64 (some of the volumes were published in Berlin: August Herbig)) (ASKB 258). [Sulzer, Johann George], Johann George Sulzers vermischte philosophische Schriften. Aus den Jahrbüchern der Akademie der Wissenschaften zu Berlin

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gesammelt, vols. 1–2, Leipzig: weidmanns Erben und Reich 1773–81, vol. 1, p. 130 (ASKB 807–808). Tholuck, Friedrich August Gotttreu, Auslegung des Briefes Pauli an die Römer nebst Auszügen aus den exegetischen Schriften der Kirchenväter und Reformatoren, 3rd revised ed., Berlin: Ferdinand Dümmler 1831 (ASKB 102). zeuthen, Ludvig, Humanitet betragtet fra et christeligt Standpunkt, med stadigt Hensyn til den nærværende Tid, Copenhagen: Gyldendal 1846, p. 5; pp. 23–4 (ASKB 915). III. Secondary Literature on Kierkegaard’s Relation to Calvin and Calvinism Gustafson, James M., Christ and the Moral Life, New York: Harper & Row 1968, pp. 163–76. Hall, Amy Laura, Kierkegaard and the Treachery of Love, Cambridge: Cambridge university press 2002, pp. 11–22. Norman Edmond Harper, A Comparative Study of the Educational Implications of the Thought of John Calvin and Søren Kierkegaard, Ann Arbor: university Microfilms 1967. Schildner, Klaas, Zur Begriffsgeschichte des “Paradoxon” mit besonderer Berücksichtigung Calwins und das nach-kierkegaardschen “Paradoxon,” Kampen: J.J. Kok 1933. Søe, N.H., “The Three ‘uses’ of the Law,” in Norm and Context in Christian Ethics, ed. by Gene H. Outka and paul Ramsey, New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons 1968, pp. 297–322. Thulstrup, Marie Mikulová, “Jean Calvin’s Teaching,” in Theological Concepts in Kierkegaard, ed. by Niels Thulstrup and Marie Mikulová Thulstrup, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1980 (Bibliotheca Kierkegaardiana, vol. 5), pp. 264–7.

Erasmus of Rotterdam: Kierkegaard’s Hints at a Christian Humanist Finn Gredal Jensen

I. Brief Introduction to the Life and Works of Erasmus Desiderius Erasmus Roterodamus (1466/69–1536), whose original given name was Gerrit Gerritszoon, was born in 1466 or 1469 in the Netherlands, probably in Gouda, as the illegitimate, second son of a priest. After school in Gouda and Deventer, in 1487, he was taken into the Augustinian monastery at Steyn. In 1492 he was ordained to the Catholic priesthood, but already in 1493 he had the opportunity to leave the monastery to become secretary to the bishop of Cambrai. Although he thought in this way he had left humilitas for humanitas since he expected the bishop would take him on a journey to Italy, the true home of humanism, Erasmus was disappointed since nothing ever came of the journey. A few years later, in 1495, with his patron’s, the bishop’s consent he went on to study at the university of paris where he became acquainted with old-fashioned scholastic learning, but more important, with English friends when he tutored some noble Englishmen, the later Lord Mountjoy in particular, in Latin literature and style; from this education come the dialogues that would later be published as Colloquia. In 1499 he went on his first journey to England and met leading humanists like John Colet (1467–1519) in Oxford, Thomas More (1478–1535), and others. This visit marked the turningpoint of his life. He became a cosmopolite, almost constantly travelling, especially during the years 1500–16, and with frequent changes of residence, the main cities being Louvain, venice, Cambridge, Basel, and Freiburg im Breisgau; in his later years he spent most of his time in Basel, also the home of the publisher Frobenius, with whom he collaborated. Erasmus was an independent man of letters, always reading, writing, and publishing.1 Furthermore, he was a man of letters in more than The modern standard edition of the works of Erasmus is the Opera omnia Desiderii Erasmi Roterodami. Recognita et adnotatione critica instructa notisque illustrata, ed. by C.M. Bruehl, L.-E. Halkin, C. Reedijk, J.H. waszink, et al., Amsterdam: North-Holland publishing Co. 1969–2005 (replacing the older standard edition Opera omnia emendatiora et auctiora, vols. 1–10, ed. by Joannes Clericus (Jean Leclerc), Leyden: van der Aa 1703–6 (photographic reprint, Hildesheim: Georg Olms 1961–62), with a supplement, Erasmi Opuscula, ed. by wallace K. Ferguson, The Hague: Martinus Nijhoff 1933). The standard English translation edition is the Collected Works of Erasmus, ed. by A. Dalzell, J.M. Estes, C. Fantazzi, A.T. Grafton, et al., Toronto: university of Toronto press 1974ff. 1

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one sense: throughout his life he had a huge correspondence with other scholars and powerful persons of his day.2 Soon after his return from England to paris in the year 1500, Erasmus published his first major work, the first edition of the Adagia [Adages], an annotated collection of proverbs and sayings.3 He then wrote and in 1503 published a moral treatise, the Enchiridion militis christiani [Handbook of the Christian Soldier], which was a practical edifying introduction to Christianity. From Colet he had learnt a new method of biblical exegesis—the Renaissance motto ad fontes meaning here that the Bible itself is a better source than scholastic theology and commentaries—and now he also intensified his Greek studies, which he had begun earlier in England. His aim was always to reconcile bonae litterae (classical studies) and sacrae litterae (theology), and in the case of the New Testament to make use of his new philological skills. Although over the years he also published several editions of ancient classics and of the Fathers of the Church (St. Jerome and others), most important remains his edition of the Greek New Testament with his Latin translation, which first appeared in Basel 1516 with the title Novum Instrumentum.4 This was the first printed edition of the Greek text ever, but the primary goal with the edition was to provide a better

H.w. Garrod, in his essay “Erasmus in praise of England,” wrote that “Not the Folly, nor the Colloquies, but the Letters, are his best piece of literature. what he did in scholarship, whether biblical, patristic, or classical, has been superseded—though not the fine free temper of it.” H.w. Garrod, The Study of Good Letters, ed. by John Jones, Oxford: Clarendon press 1963, pp. 89–100; p. 99. The standard edition of the letters is Opus Epistolarum Des. Erasmi Roterodami denuo recognitum et auctum, vols. 1–12, ed. by p.S. Allen, H.M. Allen, and H.w. Garrod, Oxford: Clarendon press 1906–58 (here referred to as “Allen, Ep.” followed by the letter number). Translations in the following are from The Correspondence of Erasmus, trans. by R.A.B. Mynors, et al., Toronto: university of Toronto press 1974ff. (part of the Collected Works of Erasmus, see note 1). Other important translation editions are The Epistles of Erasmus from his Earliest Letters to his Fifty-First Year, vols. 1–3, ed. by F.M. Nichols, London: Longmans, Green and Co. 1901–18, and in French La Correspondance d’Érasme: Traduction intégrale, vols. 1–12, ed. by Aloïs Gerlo and paul Foriers, Brussels: presses Académiques Européennes 1967–84; a German selection is found in Erasmus von Rotterdam: Briefe, 3rd expanded ed., ed. by walther Köhler and Andreas Flitner, Bremen: Schünemann 1956 (reprint, Darmstadt: wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft 1995). 3 Originally, the work consisted of 818 entries, but in the last edition published by Erasmus in 1536 the number had grown to 4,151. Also several longer essays formed part of the work, among others Bellum inexpertis dulce [War Is Sweet to the Inexperienced] against war (the same theme can be found in another work, the Querela pacis [A Complaint of Peace] from 1517). 4 In the second edition 1519 the title was changed to the more traditional Novum Testamentum. Cf. the facsimile edition Erasmus von Rotterdam, Novum Instrumentum, Basel 1516: Faksimile-Neudruck mit einer historischen, textkritischen und bibliographischen Einleitung, ed. by Heinz Holeczek, Stuttgart: Frommann-Holzboog 1986. In Danish I have published an introduction to the New Testament translations by Luther and Erasmus: “Om Martin Luthers oversættelse af Det Nye Testamente—med et sideblik til Erasmus af Rotterdams Novum Instrumentum,” Dansk Teologisk Tidsskrift, vol. 68, no. 2, 2005, pp. 97–108. 2

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Latin translation than the Vulgate.5 The book also contains hundreds of pages of commentaries, annotationes, which consist of criticism of the Vulgate, instances from the Church Fathers, and grammatical and ironic remarks. In one of the introductory sections, “Methodus,” Erasmus gives an account of the correct biblical exegesis, and he juxtaposes the Bible with poetry: like poetry, it creates and transforms man, it is not a textbook but a book for life which speaks to the heart, and theology is not a doctrine but a kind of religious instruction similar to preaching. Erasmus’ edition is important because it is a philological reformation, a break with a thousand-year-old Church tradition built on the Vulgate, and therefore also a decisive precondition for Martin Luther’s German translation of the New Testament in 1522. This goes in both directions because this Greek edition became textus receptus, but the reason for its authoritative position was that Luther later used it in connection with his translation work at wartburg. Erasmus’ new edition in 1516—also the year of More’s Utopia— was explosive material which was met with theological resistance; this explains why he wisely dedicated it to the pope, and right on the title-page he responds to the criticism: “Quisquis igitur amas ueram Theologiam, lege, cognosce, ac deinde iudica. Neque statim offendere, si quid mutatum offenderis, sed expende, num in melius mutatum sit.” (“You who love true theology: read, learn, and then make your judgment. Do not be instantly insulted if you are offended by something that is changed, but consider if the change is not for the better.”)6 The Christian humanism of Erasmus challenged the authority of the Church.7 with his criticism in his other works of the Roman Catholic Church and its abuses and excesses, Erasmus cleared the way for the protestant Reformation. This is true of, for example, Colloquia familiaria [Familiar Colloquies] (1518), which feature caricatures of monks and Catholic prelates, or the anonymous satire from 1513 on the then recently deceased pope Julius II, Julius exclusus e coelis [Julius Excluded from Heaven], whose authenticity, however, is still debated. But he always maintained his independent position, also in relation to Luther and other reformers, and declined when he was offered a cardinalship. He never wanted a breach within the Church, only a reform of Christian life. The instruction in the correct way of living was also aimed at the highest class of society: in 1516, the same year as Novum Instrumentum, he published a speculum regale, the Institutio principis christiani [The Education of a Christian Prince], written as personal advice to the later Holy Roman Emperor Charles v. Here he applies the general principles of honor and sincerity to the special The edition had been in preparation for many years. Erasmus’ first stimulus for this edition was his publication in 1505 of a manuscript he had found containing Lorenzo valla’s Annotationes in Novum Testamentum. when going to Italy in 1506 he left in Colet’s house the manuscript with his new Latin translation of the New Testament; this first version of the translation is preserved in a copy (published by Henri Gibaud, Un inédit d’Érasme: La première version du Nouveau Testament copiée par Pierre Meghen 1506–1509, Angers: Moreana 1982); however, the final translation of 1516 differs considerably from the earlier one. 6 Quoted from the original title-page to be seen in the facsimile edition of 1986, cf. note 4. 7 Also later on the Catholic Church felt insecure towards Erasmus; thus, from 1559 onwards all of his works were found on the list of prohibited books (Index Librorum Prohibitorum), from which, however, they were later removed. 5

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functions of the prince, whom he represents throughout as the servant of the people, with a well-rounded education in order to govern justly and benevolently.8 After the debate on the freedom of will, it came to a final breach between, on the one side, the Christian humanism of Erasmus and, on the other side, the Lutheran furor teutonicus, a fanaticism which he never came to understand. Although he felt sympathy for Luther, he always hesitated to support him. At the time when the protestant movement began and grew stronger, the literary fame of Erasmus was at its height; in the European consciousness he had the same position as, for instance, voltaire or Goethe did later. Erasmus thought that any controversy could be reconciled by means of rational discussion. But also the doctrinal basis was different, and in the end he felt impelled to write authoritatively against Luther, as he observes in a letter of December 6, 1520: “Theologi putant Lutherum non posse confici nisi meo stilo, et id tacite flagitant, vt scribam in illum.” (“The theologians think that nothing but my pen can polish off Luther, and are silently bringing pressure on me to attack him in print.”)9 In 1524 he then published his treatise De libero arbitrio [On Free Will], rejecting one of Luther’s fundamental teachings. To this διατριβή or discourse Luther the next year answered with De servo arbitrio [On the Enslaved Will], which was answered again by Erasmus with the huge Hyperaspistes [A Warrior Shielding], Books 1–2, 1526–27. The disagreement was now irreparable, although Erasmus kept his friendship with Melanchthon, Luther’s right-hand man. whereas scholarly Erasmus’ main effort was his New Testament edition, his best-known work is definitely The Praise of Folly (Moriae encomium, or Laus stultitiae), completed at his friend Thomas More’s house in London 1509, dedicated to him, and published in paris 1511. This was and has been the most published of Erasmus’ works; even before his death it appeared in 36 editions. The personified Folly herself stands forward and delivers a speech in classical style, with irony and wit exposing and revealing every kind of human hypocrisy, evil, and superstition; this goes also for the unchristian lives of the theologians, the monks, and the prelates, their syllogisms and self-pride. with this declamatio Erasmus does not attack the One could compare the Institutio principis christiani to Machiavelli’s The Prince (Il Principe), drafted in 1513 a few years before Erasmus’ work, although not published until 1532; in this work the government is based on fear. 9 Although at this moment he exclaims, “At ego absit vt sic insaniam.” (“Heaven forbid that I should be so mad!”). Allen, Ep. 1165, letter to wolfgang Fabricius Capito. Still in 1523 he is in doubt whether he should follow the numerous requests; see, for instance, the letter to zwingli of August 31: “An ego propter illius doctrinam obiiciam me meosque libros periculis? Omnia recusaui que mihi hoc nomine offerebantur, vt aduersus illum scriberem. A Pontifice, a Cesare, a regibus et principibus, a doctissimis etiam et charissimis amicis huc prouocor. Et tamen certum est aut non scribere, aut ita scribere vt mea scriptio non sit placitura Phariseis.” (“Am I, for the sake of his [Luther’s] teaching, to expose myself and my books to dangers? I have refused all the offers made to me on condition that I would write against him. The pope, the Emperor, kings and princes, even the most scholarly and the dearest of my friends challenge me to do so. And yet I am resolved either not to write, or to write in such a strain that my writing will not satisfy the pharisees.”) Allen, Ep. 1384; cf. [Huldrych zwingli], Huldrici Zuinglii Opera, vols. 1–8, ed. by Melchior Schuler and Johannes Schultheß, zürich: Friedrich Schultess 1828–42, vol. 7 (1830), p. 308. 8

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institutions or doctrines of the Catholic Church as such, only satirically their abuse. The point of this, however, is an emphasis on “the foolishness of the cross” (stultitia crucis) as the only salvation, as paul describes it: “For the message about the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God” (1 Corinthians 1:18). II. Kierkegaard’s References to Erasmus According to the Auctioneer’s Sales Record, Søren Kierkegaard at the time of his death owned two works by Erasmus of Rotterdam: The Praise of Folly (ASKB 478) and a lesser-known book with the title Lingua (ASKB 988).10 Lingua [The Tongue], which first appeared in Basel in 1525, is a popular educational book that gives instruction about the use and abuse of the human tongue. The book teaches the good and bad effects of human speech by means of numerous case histories, taken from the Bible and classical literature, including fables, and from history, including happenings in daily life. And the teaching is preceded by a physical description of the human tongue and its functions, not only speaking but also tasting! The work also represents Erasmus’ response to growing criticism of his position by both Catholics and reformers. Kierkegaard’s copy of this book was from a Jean Maire edition, Lingua, sive, De linguae usu atque abusu liber utilissimus, published in Leyden 1641.11 Apparently, his reading of it—if he ever read it—has left no traces in his writings. The opposite is, by contrast, the case with The Praise of Folly, as will be seen from the following. The edition Kierkegaard had was Μωρίας ἐγκώμιον, sive, Declamatio stultitiæ, quæ ob sermonis elegantiam, argumenti amoenitatem & exemplarium inopiam rursus in lucem publicam prodire voluit æque ac debuit, published by Christian Emmerich in Leipzig 1702. In what follows I will go through the passages in Kierkegaard’s writings where Erasmus appears. As will be evident, he never goes into detail with any of Erasmus’ texts, but as it is also seen with other authors, he often takes hold of something in order to bring it into and use it in another context, and this happens most often second-hand, that is, by means of a secondary source. In the 1830s during his university studies of theology Kierkegaard made a peripheral acquaintance of Erasmus. On a quire of ten leaves there is an excerpt from philipp Marheineke’s History of the German Reformation, published in Berlin in 1816.12 It cannot be determined with certainty if Kierkegaard actually did this reading and made the excerpt on his own initiative or in connection with a lecture 10 Naturally, it cannot be ruled out that books relating to Erasmus were among the books that were taken out before the book auction by, for example, p.C. Kierkegaard, or that Søren Kierkegaard himself had got rid of such books earlier (which is not very likely), or that he had borrowed them from the university Library or read them, for instance, at the Athenæum, cf. below as regards Adolf Müller’s Leben des Erasmus von Rotterdam. 11 No less than 27 editions of different works by Erasmus were published by Jean Maire in Leyden. 12 Pap. I C 1 in Pap. XII, pp. 3–16; cf. philipp Marheineke, Geschichte der teutschen Reformation, Erster Theil, Berlin: In der Nicolaischen Buchhandlung 1816 (not in the ASKB).

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course in, presumably, church history or the history of dogma. The editors of the Papirer have dated the excerpt to “1831–32.”13 In the Papirer, volume XII, where Thulstrup presents the text, he also dates it at 1831–32.14 However, it might just as well derive from Kierkegaard’s reading around 1839 when he prepared for his examination; if this is the case, then the excerpt was not attached to any special course instruction but only to the list of readings that he was supposed to master. In the excerpt from Marheineke, Erasmus appears in two different contexts, in the first case with reference to pp. 26–7 in the source: pag. 26 et 27. Erasmus has preserved for us a sermon which was given in Italy in the presence of pope Julius II, where the speaker likened the pope to a second Jupiter who governs the world with thunderbolt in hand; when he speaks of the sufferings of Christ he reminds the people of a Decius and a Curtius; when he wants to encourage them to thankfulness towards Christ, he reminds them that the heathens honored such men with monuments. The death of Christ is compared with the innocent death of a Socrates or a phocion, with a Scipio, who for innumerable good deeds was rewarded with misery, [it is compared] with an Anpides.15

Marheineke’s own source here is an account by william Roscoe (1753–1831), to which he refers,16 and the relevant place in the writings of Erasmus is a passage in

Pap. I, p. XIII. The editors say in their preface: “The time when Kierkegaard began writing on the entries for the oldest part of the literary manuscripts in group C of the first volume cannot be determined with absolute certainty, but it cannot be earlier than 1830 or later than 1832. In all likelihood he began working on these at some point after his second examination, which S. K. completed in October 1831.” As is clear, this statement concerns, however, “the literary manuscripts.” 14 Hong (JP 5, note 27) makes the same assertion, claiming that “the three entries [see Pap. I C 1–3] are from Kierkegaard’s early period as a university student.” 15 Pap. XII, pp. 3–4. Marheineke, Geschichte der teutschen Reformation, reads: “Wie weit man dieß getrieben, erhellet aus den Schriften des Erasmus, der uns nicht nur in seinen Briefen hierüber vielfältig belehrt, sondern auch eine in Gegenwart des Papstes Julius II. und den Kardinalen gehaltene Predigt, die er selbst mit anhörte, aufbehalten hat. Diese Predigt handelt von dem Leiden und Tode Jesu. Der Redner hebt mit dem Lobe des Papstes an, den er als einen zweiten Jupiter schildert, wie er in seiner allmächtigen Hand den Donnerkeil hält und mit seinem Winke den Weltkreis beherrscht. Wenn er auf das Leiden Christi kommt, so erinnert er seine Zuhörer an das Beispiel eines für sein Vaterland sich in den Abgrund stürzenden Decius und Curtius....Wenn er die Zuhörer zum Mitleid mit dem traurigen Schicksale Jesu bewegen will, so erinnert er sie an die Dankbarkeit, womit die Heiden das Andenken ihrer Helden und Wohlthäter verewigten, indem sie ihnen Denkmäler errichteten… Der Tod Jesu wird hierauf mit dem Tode anderer vortrefflicher Männer verglichen...Er nennet einen Socrates und Phocion, die, ohne etwas verbrochen zu haben, den Giftbecher tranken… einen Scipio, der zum Lohne für zahllose Wohlthaten ins Elend verwiesen wird und einen Aristides…” 16 wilhelm (i.e., william) Roscoe, Leben und Regierung des Papsts Leo des Zehnten, vols. 1–3, trans. by Andreas Friedrich Gottlob Glaser, annotated by Heinrich philipp Konrad Henke, Leipzig: Siegfried Lebrecht Crusius 1806–7, vol. 2, pp. 336–7. 13

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his late dialogue Ciceronianus (sive De optimo dicendi genere, 1528), which is a satirical attack on the “pagan” worship of Cicero and the imitation of his style.17 The second reference Kierkegaard makes has to do with Erasmus’ irresolute relation to Luther prior to the Diet of worms (which Erasmus did not attend): pag. 224. people wanted to move Erasmus to write against L[uther]; but he did not want to do so due to prudence. pag. 225. However, Erasmus gave a good testimony about L. before the Electoral prince of Saxony, when he had asked him to visit him in Cologne, where he (Eras.) came on Dec. 5; he said (see pag. 226), Lutherus peccavit in duobus, nempe, quod tetigit coronam pontificis et ventres monachorum.18

In the preface to his edition of Lorenzo valla, Erasmus said that theology is the queen, philology (or “grammar,” as he calls it) is its handmaid (ancilla), without whom theology is blind when interpreting scripture. This central role of philology is valid, for example, for Erasmus’ editions of the New Testament, the Fathers, and his biblical commentaries. In 1850 Kierkegaard mentions a metaphor which he ascribes to Kant; however, here one reads that philosophy is the maid of theology: “From his standpoint it is jaunty of Kant to say (in one of his small dissertations): It is all right with me for philosophy to be called the handmaid of theology—it must be that she walks behind in order to carry the train—or walks ahead and carries the torch.”19 However, this metaphor originates from the scholasticism of the Middle Ages; it is found, for instance, in St. peter Damian In the above-mentioned German edition of Roscoe the reader finds in a footnote on p. 336 an elucidating remark by the editor Henke: “Derselbe [Erasmus] klagt in seinen Briefen oft über das unter Italienischen Gelehrten eingerissene Heidenthum, und über den blinden Unglauben auf das Ansehen eines Lucretius oder Plinius.” This is presumably a reference to Erasmus’ letter to Francisco vergara from October 13, 1527 with a draft of Ciceronianus (Allen, Ep. 1885). 18 Pap. XII, p. 11. Marheineke, Geschichte der teutschen Reformation, pp. 224–6, reads: “Dagegen suchten sie nun mit desto mehr Hoffnung, aber gleichfalls ohne Erfolg, den größesten Gelehrten, Erasmus von Rotterdam, gegen Luther aufzubringen und ihn zu bewegen, daß er gegen denselben schreiben möchte. Luthers Sache stand aber damals selbst in seinen Augen noch in so schöner Blüthe, daß es schon der Klugheit, die ihm über alles ging, nicht rathsam schien, den Antrag anzunehmen....Doch vor dem Churfürsten zu Sachsen legte er über Luther noch ein redlich Zeugniß der Wahrheit ab. Denn da dieser Fürst zu Köln den Erasmus höflich ersuchen ließ, zu ihm zu kommen, geschah es auch am 5. December.... Da hub Erasmus Roterodamus an und sagte rund diese Worte in Latein: Lutherus peccavit in duobus, nempe, quod tetigit coronam pontificis, et ventres monachorum, d. i. Luther hat in zwei Stucken unrecht gethan, erstlich, daß er des Papstes Kron und zum andern, daß er der Münche Bäuche angegriffen hätte.” 19 SKS 23, 143, NB16:70 / JP 2, 2239. This is a free rendering of a statement in the second section of Kant’s treatise, “vom verhältnisse der Facultäten” in Immanuel Kant’s vermischte Schriften, vols. 1–3, Halle: In der Rengerschen Buchhandlung 1799, vol. 4, Königsberg: Nicolovius 1807 (ASKB 1731–1733); vol. 3, pp. 490–3; p. 491: “Auch kann man allenfalls der theologischen Fakultät den stolzen Anspruch, daß die philosophische ihre Magd sey, einräumen (wobei doch noch immer die Frage bleibt: ob diese ihrer gnädigen Frau, die Fackel vorträgt oder die Schleppe nachträgt.)” 17

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(c. 1007–72).20 So it appears, then, that Kierkegaard was not aware that Erasmus used it. Nevertheless, he was always aware of the importance of philology, also while studying theology when in the 1830s he composed his Latin translations of the Greek New Testament; there is no reason to believe, however, that he became familiar with Erasmus’ New Testament edition during his work on the Bible translations in the Journal CC.21 In the journal with the entry on the ancilla of theology, Journal NB16, there is also an entry concerning Bible interpretation, which I will quote here in extenso: Bible Interpretation Earlier the Bible was reflected imaginatively in imagination: here is the whole range of allegorical interpretation. It is really an expression of the inability to comprehend how the infinite descends to the ordinary, the historical. Allegory as the primary interpretation is really an indirect attack upon Christianity, that Christ was a particular human being, the apostle a particular human being who amid prodigious activity tossed a few words on a scrap of paper for a congregation. Then came the Reformation and affirmed something which in principle had been partially (but not in decisive opposition to the established order, but rather “in agreement with the Catholic Church,” although there was as little agreement as possible, but those involved (for example, an Erasmus) did not dare to venture decisively; they were interested only in having it articulated) and introduced a sounder philological interpretation. But now we are veritably drowning again in sound scientific philology. It is readily forgotten that the Bible is Holy Scripture; whereas at first, in the period of imaginative interpretation, the position that the Bible is Holy Scripture was everything. Above all, it quite naturally overlooked that the apostle is an existing person who with matchless agility tosses off a few words to keep a congregation on the move. At first the apostle’s “letters in haste” were imaginatively changed into God knows what. Now they are evaporated into teachings, doctrine. They are incitements. where everything is invested, where every day is a matter of winning more believers and caring for those won, there is time neither for fantasies nor for doctrinal treatises. preoccupied with the piece of paper paul sent out, we completely forget paul, and we treat it now in a most un-pauline way.22

In this short historical overview of Bible interpretation Kierkegaard sees Erasmus as a forerunner of a “sounder philological interpretation” of Scripture as opposed to the allegorical methods of earlier times; unfortunately, now the wheel has petrus Damianus, De divina omnipotentia, 5. See SKS K17, p. 281 / KJN 1, p. 439 (in the section “Søren Kierkegaard and His Latin Translations of the New Testament,” pp. 435–41). On these translations see further Niels w. Bruun and Finn Gredal Jensen, “Kierkegaard’s Latin Translations of the New Testament,” in Kierkegaard and the Bible, Tome II: The New Testament, ed. by Lee C. Barrett, Aldershot: Ashgate, forthcoming (Kierkegaard Research: Sources, Reception and Resources, vol. 1), or the earlier version of this article in German, “Die lateinischen Übersetzungen Søren Kierkegaards aus dem Neuen Testament,” Neulateinisches Jahrbuch/Journal of Neo-Latin Language and Literature, vol. 4, 2002, pp. 17–30. 22 SKS 23, 148, NB16:78 / JP 4, 4781. 20 21

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come full circle, and allegorical imagination prevails again, paradoxically as sound philology, but masquerading as a kind of “scientific” philology that is blind to the real thing. It appears from an earlier entry in the same journal, NB16:64, that Kierkegaard’s impulse here is Henrik Nicolai Clausen’s (1793– 1877) The Hermeneutics of the New Testament.23 He takes the idea of imagination (“Phantasien”) from Clausen’s treatment of the allegorical interpretation practiced by what he refers to as “Origenists,” the immediate followers of Origen.24 However, Kierkegaard seems to apply this concept of the imaginative to a later period in history, scholasticism, the time just before Erasmus and the Reformation. Apparently, this comes natural to him, since allegorical scholastics were also influenced by Origen as the one who introduced allegoresis, that is, the use of allegory, in biblical exegesis. Now let us turn to The Praise of Folly. As already mentioned, Kierkegaard owned an edition from 1702 of this work (ASKB 478), but we cannot be certain whether he had bought it already when he was writing his dissertation The Concept of Irony (1841). In the second part of the book, in the chapter “The world-Historical validity of Irony, the Irony of Socrates,” we just read the claim that “to some extent, Erasmus of Rotterdam was also an example of irony.”25 Kierkegaard does not develop this statement about Erasmus any further. Then in 1842 or perhaps early 1843, in the Journal JJ, there is the following entry which quotes from The Praise of Folly (and this gives us a good reason to believe that he owned the book at the time): where is the comedy in these words of Erasmus Rotterodamus neque enim sum nescia (that is stultitia in speech) quam male audiat stultitia etiam apud stultissimos. cf. Stultitiæ Laus p. 1.26

These words belong to the opening of the speech. The Latin means, “I’m quite well aware that Folly is in poor repute even amongst the greatest fools.”27 Kierkegaard could have read about both The Praise of Folly and the Colloquies in Karl Friedrich Flögel’s (1729–88) Geschichte der komischen Litteratur, but the passage is not quoted there.28

H.N. Clausen, Det Nye Testaments Hermeneutik, Copenhagen: Jens Hostrup Schultz 1840 (ASKB 468). 24 Cf. the explanatory notes to 139.29 and 148.5 in SKS K23, pp. 226 and 236, respectively. 25 SKS 1, 299.27–8 / CI, 261. 26 SKS 18, 155, JJ:43 / KJN 2, 144. 27 Trans. by Betty Radice, Collected Works of Erasmus, vol. 27, p. 86. 28 K.F. Flögel, Geschichte der komischen Litteratur, vols. 1–4, Liegnitz and Leipzig: David Siegert 1784–87 (ASKB 1396–1399); vol. 1, especially pp. 560–7 on satire. It is unknown when Kierkegaard bought this work, but a terminus ante quem at least is February 21, 1839, cf. the journal entry EE:28, SKS 18, 14–15 / KJN 2, 10. 23

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Another secondary source, however, is Adolf Müller’s Leben des Erasmus von Rotterdam, published in Hamburg in 1828.29 This monograph is not found in the Auctioneer’s Sales Record, but we can tell from a couple of journal entries that Kierkegaard read it (or at least parts of it) in June, 1851; he possibly borrowed it from the university Library or, maybe more likely, read the book at or checked it out from the Athenæum.30 Müller writes on The Praise of Folly that “…noch beleidigender für das Gefühl ist der ganze letzte Theil der Schrift, und eben deshalb um so verletzender, weil die Absicht des Verfassers, belehren und bessern und die Mönchstheologen von ihrem Aberglauben und ihrer Unwissenheit abziehen zu wollen, deutlich dabei hervorleuchtet. Andere Stellen sind dagegen geistreich und ansprechend, und mit scherzender Leichtigkeit behandelt.”31 Then he gives a quotation which Kierkegaard copies and translates in the Journal NB24: Erasmus of Rotterdam says somewhere in Ἐγκώμιον μωρίας, “The princes hand piety over to the common man; the common man hands it over to the clergy; the secular clergy (seculares) shove it over to the ecclesiastical orders; these shove it over to the monks; the more lenient of these shove it over to the more rigorous; the more rigorous shove it over to the mendicant friars; and these shove it over to the Carthusian monks, among whom alone is piety to be found and in such a way that it is not easily found.” See Adolf Müller, Erasmus Leben (Hamburg: 1828), p. 235.32

It is uncertain whether Kierkegaard read only in Müller, or if he also checked his copy of The Praise of Folly, but presumably, in a case like this he read only the secondary source. There can be no doubt of this with regard to the other reference to Müller’s monograph. Somewhat earlier in the same journal we find an entry on “Human Aberration,” which concludes in this way:

Adolf Müller, Leben des Erasmus von Rotterdam. Mit einleitenden Betrachtungen über die analoge Entwickelung der Menschheit und des einzelnen Menschen, Hamburg: Friedrich perthes 1828. 30 The Athenæum was a reading association with its own library, which included a copy of Adolf Müller’s book, cf. the catalogue Fortegnelse over Selskabet Athenæums Bogsamling, den 31. December 1846, Copenhagen: Bianco Lunos Bogtrykkeri 1847 (ASKB 985), p. 374, no. 144. The Athenæum also had a German translation of The Praise of Folly (catalogue, p. 359, no. 349, Das Lob der Narrheit). 31 Müller, Leben des Erasmus von Rotterdam, pp. 234–5. 32 SKS 24, 371, NB24:83 / JP 3, 3163. Müller, Leben des Erasmus von Rotterdam, p. 235, reads: “Die Fürsten überlassen die Frömmigkeit dem gemeinen Manne, dieser dem Kirchenbeamten; die weltlichen Geistlichen schieben es auf die unter einer Regel stehenden, diese auf die Mönche, die laxeren auf die strengeren, diese auf die Bettelmönche und diese auf die Karthäuser, bei denen noch allein die Frömmigkeit zu suchen ist, und zwar so zu suchen, daß man nicht leicht etwas von ihr zu sehen bekommen wird.” There is a footnote to this which provides the last part of the German translation, “bei denen…” in Latin: “Apud quos solos sepulta latet pietas, et adeo latet, ut vix unquam liceat conspicere.” 29

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In the Middle Ages people did not know Greek. One could simply have acknowledged the fact and confessed that he did not care to expend the effort to learn it—but, no, the secular mentality did not rest until it had established the dogma that to know Greek was heresy. (See Adolf Müller, Erasmus Rotterdams Leben; Hamburg: 1828; p. 116).33

This has nothing to do directly with The Praise of Folly, but the ignorance of Greek and its absurd result here exemplifies that “the secular mind is never quite satisfied until it has gotten a wrong made into a dogma, a duty.”34 Kierkegaard just picks out this piece of information concerning the Greek from Müller’s book; it has nothing to do with Erasmus as such. The reference to “p. 116” is wrong; it should be pp. 114–15, where one reads the following: “Erasmus selbst sagte später einmal: In meiner Jugend lag auf unserm Deutschland eine so dichte Finsterniß, daß man den sogar für einen Ketzer hielt, der sich auf die griechische Sprache verstand.” In a footnote to this, Adolf Müller makes a reference to “Erasmi responsio ad Petri Cursii defensionem, nullo adversario bellacem, Tom. 10.” (i.e., vol. 10 of the Leclerc edition).35 Instead of this writing, also known as the Epistola de apologia Cursii (Allen, Ep. 3032), Müller might as well have referred, for instance, to Erasmus’ letter of October 19, 1519 to Albert of Brandenburg, archbishop and cardinal, and patron of humanists: “Quicquid non placet, quicquid non intelligunt, haeresis est. Graece scire haeresis est. Expolite loqui haeresis est. Quicquid ipsi non faciunt, haeresis est.” (“Anything they do not like, anything they do not understand is heresy. To know Greek is heresy; to speak like an educated man is heresy. Anything they do not do themselves is heresy.”)36 There are only the two above-mentioned direct references to The Praise of Folly. An allusion may well be seen in the Journal NB5 of 1848, where we find the dichotomy of prudence and folly: The category of “those glorious ones whom the world repudiated because it was not worthy of them” has gone out of use; such men scarcely appear in the last three centuries. It is essentially stupid to go on eulogizing them, for the world is so changed that it prefers prudence and consequently cannot admire or praise anyone as great unless he triumphs in a secular way in this world and during his own lifetime. Self-sacrifice becomes comical, a kind of insanity. How ironical that a person whose life expresses that he is great in this latter sense speaks with tears in his eyes and moves others—to tears—with his masterly discourse on those glorious ones; and at he same time there lives a poet who also in the understanding of our time is great, and he gets the audience to laugh at those glorious ones.37

with “those glorious ones” Kierkegaard thinks of the martyrs of Hebrews 11:38, and the two persons referred to at the end of the entry seem to be Luther and Erasmus. SKS 24, 368.21–6, NB24:77 / JP 3, 3761. SKS 24, 368.23–4, NB24:77 / JP 3, 3761. 35 “Me adolescente in nostrate Germania regnabat impune crassa barbaries, litteras Græcas attigisse hæresis erat.” Opera omnia, ed. Leclerc, vol. X, col. 1755A; Allen, Ep. 3032 (letter to John Choler, August 1535), Opus Epistolarum, vol. 12, p. 183. 36 Allen, Ep. 1033. 37 SKS 20, 390, NB5:43 / JP 3, 2637. 33 34

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This journal entry is apparently the only place where Kierkegaard, in his own words, expresses the contrast between the two. Otherwise this takes place only when he is quoting other sources, such as Marheineke’s History of the German Reformation mentioned earlier. In the Journal NB18 he quotes from Hamann’s Schriften a part of a letter to zwingli, with whom Erasmus stood in friendly correspondence. Erasmus was not displeased with Luther’s attacks on indulgences and monasticism, and wrote to zwingli that he had taught nearly everything that Luther teaches, but without his coarseness and paradoxes: Erasmus concludes a letter to zwingli with these words (quoted in Hamann, vol. 3, p. 145):38 videor mihi fere omnia docuisse, quæ docet Lutherus, nisi quod non tam atrociter, quodque abstinui a quibusdam ænigmatibus et paradoxis.39 I think of my smaller context. Scharling also thinks that Martensen has urged just as strongly as I have that what is Christian is an existence relation and its ethical side, presumably with the exception of some paradoxes, and that it is not tam atrociter.40

This is from August 31, 1523, at a time when Erasmus still had sympathy for Luther’s cause (he never had for his manner). Kierkegaard in the last part of the entry uses the quotation to identify himself, albeit in his “smaller context,” with Erasmus and his way of presentation or method.41 [Johann Georg Hamann], Hamann’s Schriften, vols. 1–8, ed. by Friedrich Roth, Berlin and Leipzig: G. Reimer 1821–23 (ASKB 536–544), vol. 3, p. 145. (Hamann in a letter to J.G. Lindner, April 16, 1762; as a source he refers to his reading of vol. 1, 1744, of Daniel Gerdesius, Introductio in historiam evangelii seculo XVI passim per Europam renovati doctrinaeqve reformatæ, vols. 1–4, Groningen and Bremen: Spandaw 1744–52.) 39 “I am under the impression that I have maintained almost all that Luther maintains, only without his violence and abstaining from some riddles and paradoxes.” Allen, Ep. 1384; cf. Huldrici Zuinglii Opera, vol. 7, p. 310 (I have also quoted from this letter above in note 9). The adverb “atrociter” reminds of the description of Luther as “gewaltig” (violent), which Kierkegaard reflects upon in the Journal JJ in the following way: “when one reads Luther one really does get the impression of a wise and assured spirit who speaks with a decisiveness that is ‘gewaltig’ (er predigte gewaltig—εξουσια Mt Gosp. 7.). And yet it seems to me that this assurance has something tumultuous about it, which is precisely uncertainty.” SKS 18, 267.14–19, JJ:380 / KJN 2, 246–7. Kierkegaard here refers to Luther’s use of “gewaltig” as a representation of ἐξουσίαν ἔχων in Mt 7:29 (“for he taught them as one having authority, and not as their scribes”). 40 SKS 23, 265–6, NB18:25. 41 This takes as its starting point a review of H.L. Martensen’s Den christelige Dogmatik (Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1849) in Nyt Theologisk Tidsskrift, vol. 1, 1850, pp. 348–75, where C.E. Scharling writes that both Kierkegaard and Martensen claim the un-Hegelian view that religion is an existence relation, but then Scharling compares Kierkegaard to the strictness of Martensen, and says inter alia (pp. 357–8): “No less characteristic for the deviation of both of the mentioned authors from the Hegelian philosophical view is the emphasis which both of them ascribe to the ethical moment, which in Martensen’s clear, compact and serious presentation perhaps appears with even greater energy than in Kierkegaard, who often, by giving in too much to his humor, stands in the way of the intended effect and not rarely, with his many artificial, dialectical formulations, leaves one with a feeling that his presentation was not intended seriously but was only an attempt at a higher mental gymnastics.” 38

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In other cases it is difficult to say whether Kierkegaard could have had Erasmus in mind, but presumably he did not, since he was mostly just thinking of the biblical statement about the opposition between wisdom and foolishness and the paradox of these categories; just to give an example, in Practice in Christianity (1850) he lets Anti-Climacus refer to one of the pauline words on being a fool in the world, 1 Corinthians 3:18: “If you think that you are wise in this age, you should become fools so that you may become wise.”42 This verse is, of course, also quoted by Erasmus in The Praise of Folly (§ 65): “Qui videtur esse sapiens inter vos, stultus fiat, ut sit sapiens.”43 Kierkegaard takes up a similar issue in the Journal NB21 from 1850, when he develops the dichotomy between reasonableness (“Forstandighed”) and acts of faith, and concludes the entry in question with a comparison between Goethe and Erasmus: On Myself Among the things I must view as my life’s task is that of expressing the fact that there is an enthusiasm that lies beyond reason. But what is happening to me now, in the contemporary situation? Every time I undertake one of these intensive actions (e.g., when I assailed the mob with one single word), contemporary reason instantly cries, “He is mad.” Then a year passes, two years, three. Contemporary reason sees that it was possible; it sees, indeed, that I was developed by it [the intensive action] and that the cause was advanced by it; contemporary reason begins to have the courage to support the cause—now that it is almost a result—and it says, “Yes, it was a higher reasonableness.” And thus it remains. So when contemporary reason comes to terms with the notion that I am reasonableness after all—this is then followed by a new intensive action, and contemporary reason instantly cries, “No, now he has obviously gone mad”—until some time passes and reasonableness again begins to take command, and once again intensive action follows. we have here a small example of the help one gets by observing history. Reasonableness sticks only to the result, explaining faith and enthusiasm inversely as higher reasonableness and shrewdness. Like Goethe [reasonableness] believes that it is a friend of revolutions—when they are justified—e.g., Christ’s manifestation, e.g., Luther. Yes, thanks a lot! Goethe, however, understands something quite different by the result: he sees—to remain with my previous point, and not, like Goethe, to place Christ profanely in the company of other reformers (which Goethe does, for the words I allude to are by Goethe himself)—the fruit of rational calculation in what was in fact an act of faith that Goethe himself would never have supported at the time, any more than Erasmus of Rotterdam would have done so.44 “I had no monastery to which I could flee, seeking an environment that approximately corresponded to my inner preoccupation. I chose the only escape that was left in Christendom: to seem to be the most frivolous of all, to ‘become a fool in the world,’ in order if at all possible in this earnest world to protect what I concealed in my innermost being, a little bit of earnestness, and in order that this inwardness could acquire the peace of inclosing reserve in which to grow in stillness.” SKS 12, 222–3 / PC, 228. 43 The idea of the holy, wise fool also appears in many contexts later in world literature; for instance, just think of Dostoevsky’s The Idiot. 44 SKS 24, 61–2, NB21:96. Trans. by Bruce H. Kirmmse. 42

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Kierkegaard sees it as a life task to express “the fact that there is an enthusiasm [Begeistring] that lies beyond reason.”45 He does not think that Erasmus is a man of action when it comes to faith. To understand the comparison with Goethe, a “renaissance man” of another period in history, one should read in Johann peter Eckermann’s (1792–1854) Gespräche mit Goethe, where on January 4, 1824 Goethe says, It is true that I could be no friend to the French Revolution; its horrors were too near to me, and shocked me daily and hourly, whilst its benefits were not then apparent…If, however, there exists an actual necessity for a great reform amongst a people, God is with it, and it prospers. He was visibly with Christ and his first adherents; for the appearance of the new doctrine of love was a necessity to the different peoples. He was also visibly with Luther; for the purification of the doctrine corrupted by the priesthood was no less a necessity. Neither of the great powers whom I have named was, however, a friend of the established order; much more were both of them convinced that the old leaven must be got rid of, and that it would be impossible to go on and remain in the untrue, unjust, and defective way.46

It is clear, then, that Kierkegaard sees Erasmus’ position as the same as Goethe’s later: an intellectual preference for rational calculation over acts of faith. Erasmus understood the necessity of reformation within the Church, but he did not approve of the Lutheran methods of destroying it, and he wanted to keep out of trouble: “Ego de illo [Luthero] in neutram partem pronuncio, suos habet iudices” (“I pass no judgment on him either way; he has his proper judges”).47 On a smaller scale, Kierkegaard, by means of “intensive actions” (in reality through his writings), was striving to reform the Christianity of Copenhagen. For his own part, Erasmus says in a letter to Cardinal Gattinara, dated April 29, 1526, “Ac mihi quidem sufficit bona conscientia et premiorum largitor Christus” (“It is enough for me to have a good conscience and the blessing of Christ, who bestows upon us the rewards we

SKS 24, 61.25–6, NB21:96. Conversations of Goethe with Johann Peter Eckermann, trans. by John Oxenford, ed. by J.K. Moorhead, Cambridge, Massachusetts: Da Capo press 1998 [1930], pp. 36–7. Translation slightly modified. The original reads, “Es ist wahr, ich konnte kein Freund der französischen Revolution seyn, denn ihre Gräuel standen mir zu nahe und empörten mich täglich und stündlich, während ihre wohlthätigen Folgen damals noch nicht zu ersehen waren.…Ist aber ein wirkliches Bedürfniß zu einer großen Reform in einem Volke vorhanden, so ist Gott mit ihm und sie gelingt. Er war sichtbar mit Christus und seinen ersten Anhängern, denn die Erscheinung der neuen Lehre der Liebe war den Völkern ein Bedürfniß; er war ebenso sichtbar mit Luthern, denn die Reinigung jener durch Pfaffenwesen verunstalteten Lehre war es nicht weniger. Beide genannten großen Kräfte aber waren nicht Freunde des Bestehenden; vielmehr waren Beide lebhaft durchdrungen, daß der alte Sauerteig ausgekehrt werden müsse und daß es nicht ferner im Unwahren, Ungerechten und Mangelhaften so fortgehen und bleiben könne.” Johann peter Eckermann, Gespräche mit Goethe in den letzten Jahren seines Lebens 1823–1832, vols. 1–2, Leipzig: F.A. Brockhaus 1836, vol. 3, Magdeburg: Heinrichshofen’sche Buchhandlung 1848; vol. 3, pp. 44–6. 47 Allen, Ep. 1167. Letter to Lorenzo Campeggio, December 6, 1520. 45 46

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deserve”),48 and in the same letter he summarizes his achievement in this manner, underlining his own importance as a Christian humanist: Ego, quod negari non potest, excitaui linguarum ac bonarum litterarum studia. Theologiam scholasticam, nimium prolapsam ad sophisticas argutias, ad fontes diuinorum voluminum et ad veterum orthodoxorum lectionem reuocaui: mundum pharisaicis ceremoniis indormientem ad veram pietatem expergefacere studui. Nulli factioni me vnquam adiunxi, nec ipse factionem vllam collegi.49

Allen, Ep. 1700. “I can claim for myself that I created a new interest in the study of languages and good literature—that is something which cannot be denied. Through my efforts the theology of the schools, which had degenerated into the discussion of hair-splitting sophistries, has been brought back to its biblical sources and to the study of the old authorities. I have tried to awaken a world that had fallen asleep over its pharisaical ceremonies and to bring it back to true religion. I have never joined any faction or gathered a clique around myself.” 48 49

Bibliography I. Erasmus’ Works in The Auction Catalogue of Kierkegaard’s Library Μωρίας ἐγκώμιον, sive, Declamatio stultitiæ, quæ ob sermonis elegantiam, argumenti amoenitatem & exemplarium inopiam rursus in lucem publicam prodire voluit æque ac debuit, Leipzig: Christian Emmerich 1702 (ASKB 478). Lingua, sive, De linguae usu atque abusu liber utilissimus, Leyden: Jean Maire 1641 (ASKB 988). II. Works in The Auction Catalogue of Kierkegaard’s Library that Discuss Erasmus [Becker, Karl Friedrich], Karl Friedrich Beckers Verdenshistorie, omarbeidet af Johan Gottfried Woltmann, vols. 1–12, trans. by J. Riise, Copenhagen: Fr. Brummers Forlag 1822–29, vol. 6, p. 257; vol. 7, p. 592 (ASKB 1972–1983). Buhle, Johann Gottlieb, Geschichte der neuern Philosophie seit der Epoche der Wiederherstellung der Wissenschaften, vols. 1–6 (in 10 tomes), vols. 1–2, Göttingen: Johann Georg Rosenbusch’s wittwe 1800; vols. 3–6, Göttingen: Johann Friedrich Röwer 1802–05 [Abtheilung 6 in Geschichte der Künste und Wissenschaften seit der Wiederherstellung derselben bis an das Ende des achtzehnten Jahrhunderts. Von einer Gesellschaft gelehrter Männer ausgearbeitet, Abtheilungen 1–11, Göttingen: Röwer and Göttingen: Rosenbusch 1796–1820], vol. 2, pp. 457ff. (ASKB 440–445). Carriere, Moritz, Die philosophische Weltanschauung der Reformationszeit in ihren Beziehungen zur Gegenwart, Stuttgart and Tübingen: J.G. Cotta’scher verlag 1847, pp. 182–7 (ASKB 458). Clausen, Henrik Nicolai, Det Nye Testaments Hermeneutik, Copenhagen: Jens Hostrup Schultz 1840, p. 252 (ASKB 468). Flögel, Karl Friedrich, Geschichte der komischen Litteratur, vols. 1–4, Liegnitz and Leipzig: David Siegert 1784–87, vol. 1, p. 26; p. 66; p. 256; p. 309; p. 372; vol. 3, pp. 560–7 (ASKB 1396–1399). Guerike, Heinrich Ernst Ferdinand, Handbuch der Kirchengeschichte, vols. 1–2, 3rd revised and enlarged ed., Halle: In der Gebauerschen Buchhandlung 1838, vol. 2, pp. 723ff.; p. 766; pp. 813ff.; p. 904; p. 978 (ASKB 158–159). [Hamann, Johann Georg], Hamann’s Schriften, vols. 1–8, ed. by Friedrich Roth, Berlin and Leipzig: G. Reimer 1821–23; vol. 3, p. 145 (ASKB 536–544). Hansen, M. Mørk, Populær Fremstilling af Kirkens Historie for tænkende Christne, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1848, p. 199 (ASKB 167). Meiners, Christoph, Historische Vergleichung der Sitten und Verfassungen, der Gesetze und Gewerbe, des Handels und der Religion, der Wissenschaften und

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Lehranstalten des Mittelalters mit denen unsers Jahrhunderts in Rücksicht auf die Vortheile, und Nachtheile der Aufklärung, vols. 1–3, Hannover: Im verlage der Helwingischen Hofbuchhandlung 1793–94, vol. 3, p. 36; p. 76; p. 85; p. 347; p. 487 (ASKB 672-674). Mynster, Jakob peter, Om Hukommelsen. En psychologisk Undersögelse, Copenhagen: Jens Hostrup Schultz 1849, p. 18 (ASKB 692). —— Blandede Skrivter, vols. 1–3, Copenhagen: Gyldendal 1852–53 [vols. 4–6, Copenhagen: Gyldendal 1855–57], vol. 1, p. 222 (ASKB 358–363). Sulzer, Johann Georg, Allgemeine Theorie der Schönen Künste, in einzeln, nach alphabetischer Ordnung der Kunstwörter auf einander folgenden, Artikeln abgehandelt, vols. 1–4 and a register volume, 2nd revised ed., Leipzig: weidmannsche Buchhandlung 1792–99, vol. 1, p. 375; vol. 2, p. 184; vol. 3, p. 278 (ASKB 1365–1369). III. Secondary Literature on Kierkegaard’s Relation to Erasmus Laporte, André, Trois témoins de la liberté: Erasme de Rotterdam, Martin Luther, Søren Kierkegaard. Thèse présentée à la Faculté autonome de théologie protestante de l’Université de Genève pour obtenir le grade de bachelier en théologie, Geneva: université de Genève 1949. Stewart, Jon, “Satire as philosophy: Erasmus’ Moriæ Encomium,” International Studies in Philosophy, vol. 26, no. 2, 1994, pp. 73–90.

François de Salignac de la Mothe-Fénelon: Clearing the way for The Sickness unto Death peter Šajda

Søren Kierkegaard’s encounter with the French Catholic theologian and homme de lettres François de Salignac de la Mothe-Fénelon is paradoxically characterized by both continuity and discontinuity. Although a closer analysis easily uncovers the inner logic of Kierkegaard’s reception, it constantly remains confronted with the surprisingly abrupt nature of its phases. It is, however, apparent that from an accidental dialogue partner Fénelon gradually developed into a trustworthy spiritual authority, whose advice eventually played a crucial role in Kierkegaard’s uneasy decision-making in the summer of 1849. Fénelon’s wisdom helped to clear the way for the publication of The Sickness unto Death, and it was instrumental in Kierkegaard’s reconstruction of his integrity as a religious author. I. A Brief Outline of Fénelon’s Life and Work François de Salignac de la Mothe-Fénelon (1651–1715) was born in 1651 at the Château de Fénelon in the current department of Dordogne in south-west France.1 As a member of a noble family he received his early instruction at the Château, continuing his education at the nearby university of Cahors. The city of Cahors was at Fénelon’s time a dynamic spiritual center marked by the legacy of its renowned bishop Alain de Solminhac (1593–1659), as well as by the diverse spiritualities cultivated by the local religious communities.2 Later the young Fénelon continued his studies in paris, choosing a priestly vocation and joining the Sulpician order. As a priest Fénelon was entrusted with the spiritual care of the nouvelles catholiques—women converts from protestantism—a task which created ground for his future assignment as a missionary to the French protestants. This mission In his study on Fénelon’s origin Joseph Calvet points out that the Château de Fénelon was in 1651 part of the province of Quercy and not that of périgord, as most sources state. Cf. Joseph Calvet, “Fénelon dans ses origines,” in Fénelon. Persönlichkeit und Werk: Festschrift zur 300. Wiederkehr seines Geburtstages, ed. by Johannes Kraus and Joseph Calvet, BadenBaden: verlag für Kunst und wissenschaft 1953, p. 27. 2 Ibid., pp. 29–30. The city had lively communities of both contemplative and apostolic character, most notably the Carthusians, vincentians and Jesuits. 1

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was linked to the Recatholization efforts of King Louis XIv, who revoked in 1685 the Edict of Nantes with the aim of bringing about a religious homogenization of French society. Although Fénelon firmly believed in the legitimacy of the cause of the conversion of the Huguenots, numerous protestant sources would later emphasize his refusal to consent to the employment of political and military power for this purpose.3 From this time stems Fénelon’s early pedagogical work Traité de l’éducation des filles inspired by his experience as an educator.4 In 1689 Fénelon was appointed to be the tutor of the Duke of Burgundy, which brought him into an immediate proximity with the royal family and the circles of the court. His spiritual advice was also sought by the wife of Louis XIv, Madame de Maintenon, who later played a crucial role in the controversy pertaining to the teachings of Fénelon and Madame Guyon. Fénelon’s first-hand knowledge of the manners of the court yielded vital inspiration for his literary masterpiece Les Aventures de Télémaque,5 which became a political and pedagogical classic and brought him undying fame both in France and abroad. This work had a substantial impact on the reception of Fénelon’s oeuvre in Germany—which indirectly also affected Kierkegaard—and largely contributed to the fact that “no French author before Voltaire exerted such a broad and deep influence outside France as the Archbishop of Cambrai.”6 Already one year after the publication of Telemachus in France, the work appeared in 1700 in German translation in Breslau and was popularized significantly by Benjamin Neukirch’s (1665–1729) edition from 1727 versed in German alexandrines.7 References to Telemachus appear in the works of several German philosophers and men of letters that had a share in Kierkegaard’s intellectual formation, most notably in Gottfried wilhelm Leibniz (1646–1716), Johann Gottfried Herder (1744–1803) or Johann wolfgang von Goethe (1749– 1832),8 and Fénelon’s “ideals of the education of princes” are mentioned also in

The biography of Fénelon included in Kierkegaard’s edition of Fénelon’s religious works also thematized this fact. Cf. [François de Salignac de la Mothe-Fénelon], Fenelon’s Werke religiösen Inhalts, vols. 1–3, trans. by Matthias Claudius, new ed., Hamburg: Friedrich perthes 1823 [1800–11], vol. 2, pp. vI–vII (ASKB 1914). 4 This was the first work of Fénelon published in German translation. It was translated by the influential Lutheran theologian August Hermann Francke and appeared in 1698. See also wolfgang Bensiek, Die ästhetisch-literarischen Schriften Fénelons und ihr Einfluß in der ersten Hälfte des 18. Jahrhunderts in Deutschland, ph.D. Thesis, Eberhard Karls universität, Tübingen 1972, pp. 106–9. 5 The first English translation was published in the same year as the original. Cf. François de Salignac de la Mothe-Fénelon, The Adventures of Telemachus the Son of Ulysses, London: Awnsham and John Churchil 1699. 6 Leo Just, “Fénelons wirkung in Deutschland,” in Fénelon. Persönlichkeit und Werk, p. 35. See also Bensiek, Die ästhetisch-literarischen Schriften Fénelons und ihr Einfluß in der ersten Hälfte des 18. Jahrhunderts in Deutschland, pp. 112–27. 7 Bensiek, Die ästhetisch-literarischen Schriften Fénelons und ihr Einfluß in der ersten Hälfte des 18. Jahrhunderts in Deutschland, pp. 42–3. 8 Kierkegaard’s possible encounter with Fénelon through the works of the mentioned authors is discussed below. 3

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Georg wilhelm Friedrich Hegel’s (1770–1831) Lectures on the Philosophy of History.9 On October 4, 1688 Fénelon encountered Jeanne-Marie Bouvier de la Motte Guyon (1648–1717), a woman whose spiritual doctrine would profoundly affect both his theological views, as well as his ecclesiastical career. Since Madame Guyon’s theology attracted considerable attention and it was repeatedly brought into connection with the heterodox teachings of quietism, Fénelon eventually prompted her to submit her writings for a doctrinal examination under the supervision of Jacques-Bénigne Bossuet (1627–1704), the then bishop of Meaux. A long and painful controversy ensued in which both Fénelon and Madame Guyon were confronted with serious accusations that ultimately led to grave theological and political consequences for both of them. Madame Guyon was arrested and imprisoned, Fénelon was confined to the territory of his archdiocese, and his work Explication des maximes des saints sur la vie intérieure was submitted first to the king and then to pope Innocent XII who condemned 23 propositions contained in the work in his breve Cum alias in March 1699. After the publication of the breve—which Fénelon accepted with obedience10— he continued his pastoral activity as the Archbishop of Cambrai and remained literally active, taking part in the Jansenist controversy, in which he sided with the Catholic orthodoxy. He was held in high esteem in certain political and ecclesial circles, which helped to perpetuate his literary works, many of which were published posthumously. Fénelon died on January 7, 1715. Although the popularity of Telemachus at times overshadowed other parts of Fénelon’s literary production,11 the German-speaking world of the first half of the nineteenth century experienced a unique revival of interest in Fénelon’s religious thought due to the remarkable three-volume edition of Fénelon’s spiritual writings compiled by the German poet Matthias Claudius (1740–1815).12 Claudius’ enthusiasm for Fénelon popularized the French author throughout Germany, and it had a direct impact on the later bishop of Regensburg, Johann Michael Sailer (1751–

[Georg wilhelm Friedrich Hegel], Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel’s Vorlesungen über die Philosophie der Geschichte, Berlin: Duncker und Humblot 1837 (vol. 9 in Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel’s Werke. Vollständige Ausgabe, ed. by philipp Marheineke et al., Berlin: Duncker und Humblot 1832–45), pp. 48–9. 10 Fénelon did not protest against the breve, but he believed that it was the maladroitness in expressing his ideas that was the true cause for the condemnation of the doctrine professed in Explication des maximes des saints. Cf. Mayumi Murata, “Les réactions de Fénelon après la condamnation,” in Fénelon. Mystique et politique (1699–1999), ed. by François-Xavier Cuche and Jacques Le Brun, paris: Éditions Champion 2004, p. 143. 11 The widespread usage of Fénelon’s Telemachus as a textbook for French contributed to the fact that the book saw a significant number of new editions across Europe. Cf. Bensiek, Die ästhetisch-literarischen Schriften Fénelons und ihr Einfluß in der ersten Hälfte des 18. Jahrhunderts in Deutschland, pp. 132–5. 12 Claudius’ edition of Fénelon’s religious works appeared originally in 1800–11. Kierkegaard owned a later edition from 1823. Cf. [Fénelon], Fenelon’s Werke religiösen Inhalts. 9

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1832),13 who became the spiritus movens of the “German Fénelon-renaissance in the Catholic literature” in the 1820s and 1830s.14 Matthias Claudius’ translation of Fénelon—which was published by his son-in-law Friedrich perthes (1772–1843) in Hamburg—proved to be a decisive medium for Kierkegaard’s reception of Fénelon. The Danish philosopher read it very thoroughly and used it repeatedly as a source for his personal edification. II. Kierkegaard’s Encounter with Fénelon through German Philosophy and Literature Most of the sources that were at Kierkegaard’s disposal and discussed Fénelon were of non-Catholic and non-French origin. Although Fénelon’s unconditional acceptance of the authority of the Catholic Church and his zeal for the conversion of the protestants were generally known facts, he enjoyed high respect in a considerable number of sources stemming from the German protestant environment. Kierkegaard might have encountered Fénelon in several encyclopedic works, such as those written by Louis Moréri (1643–80)15 or Christian Gottlieb Jöcher (1694–1758),16 both of which he quotes in Either/Or,17 whereby especially Moréri’s account points out the excellence of the Archbishop. Karl Friedrich Becker—whose World History Kierkegaard owned in Danish translation—speaks of Fénelon with genuine admiration, stating that his character belongs “among the most noble and amiable that history knows.”18 Similarly, the protestant Church historian Karl Hase presents Fénelon as “an apostolic man” with a gentle heart,19 and in Franz Anton Staudenmaier’s Encyclopædia of Theological Sciences, Fénelon is listed among those theologians who opposed “the false Enlightenment” in France.20

Together with Johann Kaspar Lavater, Matthias Claudius was among those who introduced Sailer to mysticism and to the spiritual heritage of Fénelon. Cf. Ignaz weilner, Gottselige Innigkeit. Die Grundhaltung der religiösen Seele nach Johann Michael Sailer, Regensburg: verlag Friedrich pustet 1949, pp. 110–13; p. 155; p. 254; pp. 350–1. Kierkegaard owned a selection of Sailer’s religious works. Cf. ASKB 270. 14 Just, “Fénelon’s wirkung in Deutschland,” in Fénelon. Persönlichkeit und Werk, p. 59. 15 Louis Moréri, Le Grand Dictionnaire historique, vols. 1–6, Basel: Jean Brandmuller 1731–32, vol. 4, pp. 39–40 (ASKB 1965–1969). 16 Christian Gottlieb Jöcher, Allgemeines Gelehrten-Lexicon, vols. 1–4, Leipzig: Johann Friedrich Gleditschens Buchhandlung 1750–51, vol. 2, pp. 557–8 (ASKB 948–951). 17 SKS 2, 19 / EO1, 11. 18 [Karl Friedrich Becker], Karl Friedrich Beckers Verdenshistorie, vols. 1–12, revised by Johan Gottfried woltmann, revised and trans. by J. Riise, Copenhagen: Fr. Brummer 1822– 29, vol. 8, p. 401 (ASKB 1972–1983). 19 Karl Hase, Kirkehistorie. Lærebog nærmest for akademiske Forelæsninger, trans. by C. winther and T. Schorn, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1837, p. 550 (ASKB 160–166). 20 Franz Anton Staudenmaier, Encyklopädie der theologischen Wissenschaften als System der gesammten Theologie, Mainz: Florian Kupferberg 1834, p. 782 (ASKB 69). 13

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On the other hand, Fénelon’s name is mentioned in several instances in connection with the condemned quietist doctrines proclaimed by Miguel de Molinos (1628–96),21 and in wolfgang Menzel’s account of the history of German literature the Archbishop of Cambrai is curiously described as the patriarch of Jansenism.22 A positive reference to Fénelon’s Telemachus appears in Gottfried wilhelm Leibniz’s Theodicy, which Kierkegaard owned in both a German and a French version23 and his collection of Leibniz’s philosophical works contains a letter by Leibniz, in which the German philosopher details his opinion on the doctrine of disinterested love and on Fénelon himself.24 Two references to an early German translation of Telemachus are found in Johann wolfgang von Goethe’s autobiography From my Life: Poetry and Truth, where Goethe mentions “the sweet and beneficial effect” of Fénelon’s book which was part of his father’s library.25 As these mentions are located in Books I and II of Goethe’s autobiography, it is quite probable that Kierkegaard came across them when reading through this work. An important promoter of Fénelon’s legacy in the German-speaking intellectual world was Johann Gottfried Herder, whose complete works Kierkegaard owned and quoted in his journals. In Adrastea Herder at first excerpts Fénelon’s Examen de conscience sur les devoirs de la Royauté26 and later presents a succinct account of the Archbishop’s relation to Madame de Maintenon and her husband, king Louis XIv.27 Herder refers to Fénelon as “a heavenly genius,”28 claiming that “not his Church, but humanity canonized him.”29 He repeatedly quotes Fénelon in the chapter [wilhelm Münscher], Dr. Wilhelm Münschers Lærebog i den christelige Kirkehistorie, til Brug ved Forelæsninger, trans. by Frederik Münter, revised and ed. by Jens Möller, Copenhagen: F. Brummer 1831, p. 337 (ASKB 168); wilhelm Martin Leberecht de wette, Lærebog i den christelige Sædelære og sammes Historie, Copenhagen: Reitzel 1835, p. 181 (ASKB 871). 22 wolfgang Menzel, Die deutsche Literatur, vols. 1–4, 2nd enlarged ed., Stuttgart: Hallberg’sche verlagshandlung 1836, vol. 1, p. 145 (ASKB u 79). 23 Gottfried wilhelm Leibniz, Theodicée, 5th edition, Hannover and Leipzig: verlag der Försterischen Erben 1763, p. 459 (ASKB 619); [Gottfried wilhelm Leibniz], God. Guil. Leibnitii Opera philosophica, quæ exstant, parts 1–2, Berlin: G. Eichler, 1839–40, part 2, p. 582 (ASKB 620). For more detail on Leibniz’s relationship to Fénelon see Jacqueline Lagrée, “Quiétude et inquiétude de la raison: Fénelon et Leibniz,” in Fénelon. Philosophie et spiritualité, Geneva: Librairie Droz 1996, pp. 39–62; Robert Spaemann, Reflexion und Spontaneität. Studien über Fénelon, Stuttgart: w. Kohlhammer 1963, pp. 197–222. 24 [Leibniz], God. Guil. Leibnitii Opera philosophica, quæ exstant, part 2, pp. 789–91. 25 [Johann wolfgang von Goethe], Goethe’s Werke. Vollständige Ausgabe letzter Hand [in 55 volumes], vols. 1–40, Stuttgart and Tübingen: J.G. Cotta’sche Buchhandlung 1827– 30; Goethe’s nachgelassene Werke, vols. 41–55, Stuttgart and Tübingen: J.G. Cotta’sche Buchhandlung 1832–33, vol. 24, p. 50; p. 123 (ASKB 1641–1668). 26 Johann Gottfried von Herder’s Sämmtliche Werke. Zur Philosophie und Geschichte, vols. 1–22, Stuttgart and Tübingen: J.G. Cotta’sche Buchhandlung 1827–30, vol. 11, pp. 17–20 (ASKB 1695–1705). 27 Ibid., pp. 38–40. 28 Ibid., p. 41. 29 Ibid., p. 42. 21

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on the French Academy30 and mentions him briefly in several other instances.31 Kierkegaard might have encountered Fénelon also in Herder’s Briefe zu Beförderung der Humanität32 or in his Briefe, das Studium der Theologie betreffend, where Herder confesses that he likes Fénelon above all his countrymen and declares that “there was a great, pure and gentle soul in him.”33 In Herder’s treatise on the influence of sciences on governments the German philosopher lists Fénelon alongside Xenophon as one of the “saints of science and humanity.”34 Kierkegaard certainly encountered Fénelon in the works and letters of Friedrich Heinrich Jacobi (1743–1819), to whom the French spiritual writer was recommended by Herder in his letter of December 20, 1784.35 In a response to Herder, Jacobi admits that so far he has not read any of Fénelon’s works, and thus he would welcome it if Herder suggested some to start with.36 The connection between Jacobi and Fénelon was probably known to Kierkegaard quite early since it is mentioned already in his notes from Hans Lassen Martensen’s Lectures on the History of More Recent Philosophy from Kant to Hegel from 1838–39.37 A reference to Fénelon’s Telemachus is also found in Johann Georg Hamann’s (1730–88) letter to Jacobi from the end of January 1787, in which Hamann describes his reading of Telemachus with his son.38 Kierkegaard owned Hamann’s letter to Jacobi in two versions, since it was included both in the works of Jacobi and in those of Hamann, although in Kierkegaard’s edition of Hamann the letter is addressed to Johann Friedrich Hartknoch and is dated February 17, 1787.39 A longer quotation from Fénelon in French appears in Jacobi’s letter to Johann Georg Schlosser (1739–99), in which Jacobi cites Fénelon in connection with plato’s doctrine of love and refers to the Archbishop as “this amiable and honorable man.”40 Another French quotation from Fénelon is found on the title-page of Jacobi’s famous letter to Fichte from March 1799,41 whereby the letter contains Jacobi’s intriguing Ibid., pp. 58–67. Ibid., p. 107; p. 109; p. 113; p. 127. 32 Ibid., vol. 13, p. 80; vol. 14, pp. 132–42. 33 Johann Gottfried von Herder’s Sämmtliche Werke. Zur Religion und Theologie, vols. 1–18, Stuttgart and Tübingen: J.G. Cotta’sche Buchhandlung 1827–30, vol. 14, p. 196 (ASKB 1676–1684). 34 Johann Gottfried von Herder’s Sämmtliche Werke. Zur Philosophie und Geschichte, vol. 14, p. 338. 35 [Friedrich Heinrich Jacobi], “Friedrich Heinrich Jacobi. Briefwechsel 1782–84,” in Friedrich Heinrich Jacobi: Werke–Briefwechsel–Nachlaß–Dokumente, ed. by Michael Brüggen et al., Stuttgart–Bad Cannstatt: Frommann–Holzboog 1981ff., Briefwechsel, series 1, vol. 3, p. 405. 36 [Friedrich Heinrich Jacobi], Friedrich Heinrich Jacobi’s auserlesener Briefwechsel, vols. 1–2, Leipzig: Gerhard Fleischer 1825–27, vol. 1, p. 375. 37 Pap. II C 25, in Pap. XII, p. 303. 38 [Friedrich Heinrich Jacobi], Friedrich Heinrich Jacobi’s Werke, vols. 1–6, Leipzig: Gerhard Fleischer 1812–25, vol. 4, Abtheilung 3, p. 320 (ASKB 1722–1728). 39 [Johann Georg Hamann], Hamann’s Schriften, vols. 1–8, Berlin and Leipzig, G. Reimer 1821–43, vol. 7, p. 352 (ASKB 536–544). 40 [Jacobi], Friedrich Heinrich Jacobi’s Werke, vol. 6, p. 73. 41 Ibid., vol. 3, p. 1. 30 31

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comment about “the great consonance between the religion of Spinoza...and the religion of Fenelon.” 42 In one instance Jacobi’s German translation of a passage from Fénelon attracted Kierkegaard’s attention so much that he decided to utilize it in his own edifying works. This quotation from Fénelon’s Traité de l’existence et des attributs de Dieu, which Kierkegaard spotted in Jacobi’s Allwills Briefsammlung,43 appeared in 1844 both in Kierkegaard’s draft of Four Upbuilding Discourses,44 as well as in its published form in the philosopher’s own Danish translation.45 Yet another German source which might have introduced Kierkegaard to glimpses of Fénelon’s thought was Jean paul (1763–1825),46 whose works Kierkegaard owned and quoted both in his published and unpublished writings. In November 1799 Jean paul wrote in a letter addressed to Jacobi about the amazing connection between Fénelon’s theology and Fichte’s moral doctrine.47 Jean paul included the French religious thinker in his novel Titan, where he made use of his doctrine of pure love48 and referred to him as “the saint Fenelon.”49 The Archbishop of Cambrai is mentioned also in Jean paul’s Levana, in which he is contrasted to “mystical fantasists” and surrounded by superlatives.50 Kierkegaard also owned the noteworthy autobiography of Jeanne-Marie Bouvier de la Motte Guyon, the soulmate and “spiritual mother” of Fénelon.51 Although the book contains very personal passages about Fénelon, it is at times difficult to discern his presence in the text, as he is referred to as Abbée von F...52 or L’A. D. F.53 Kierkegaard also could encounter Fénelon in Danish theological literature, for example in Jens Møller’s Theologisk Bibliothek, which includes an introduction to Fénelon’s life and work, as well as a study on Fénelon’s missionary activity among the protestants. The Copenhagen theology professor speaks of Fénelon with great Ibid., vol. 3, p. 47. Ibid., vol. 1, pp. 173–4. 44 Pap. v B 207,1. 45 SKS 5, 302 / EUD, 310. 46 For a detailed study of Fénelon’s presence in Jean paul’s texts see Spaemann, Reflexion und Spontaneität. Studien über Fénelon, pp. 254–77. 47 [Johann paul Friedrich Richter], Jean paul, Jean Paul’s sämmtliche Werke, vols. 1–60, Berlin: G. Reimer 1826–28 [vols. 61–5, Jean Paul’s sämmtliche Werke. Jean Paul’s literarischer Nachlaß, Berlin: G. Reimer 1836–38 and Jean Paul Friedrich Richter. Ein biographischer Commentar zu dessen Werken by Richard Otto Spazier, Neffen des Dichters, Leipzig: wigand 1833], vol. 60, p. 21 (ASKB 1777–1799). 48 Ibid., vol. 23, p. 149. 49 Ibid., vol. 24, p. 175. 50 Ibid., vol. 36, p. 60. 51 In her autobiography Madame Guyon speaks of “a spiritual child-relationship” that bound Fénelon to her. [Jeanne-Marie Bouvier de la Motte Guyon], Das Leben der Frau J.M.B. von la Mothe Guion von ihr selbst beschrieben, vols. 1–3, Berlin: Sandersche Buchhandlung 1826, vol. 3, p. 142 (ASKB 915–917): “Mir ward meine Einwilligung abgesondert, die ich gab; worauf ich wie eine geistige Kindschaft empfand, in welcher er von mir abhängig war.” 52 Ibid., vol. 3, pp. 142–3. 53 Ibid., vol. 3, pp. 170–1. 42 43

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admiration, placing him in his personal pantheon54 and confessing that he cannot recall any teacher in the Lutheran Church “whose moral perfection I would love and admire in the same measure as that of Fénelon.”55 He advocates in several instances Fénelon’s intention to convert the French protestants and emphasizes Fénelon’s repeated refusal of coercive methods and military intervention.56 The name of Fénelon also appears in Carl Emil Scharling’s monograph on Miguel de Molinos published in 185257 which Kierkegaard commented on when reflecting on his relationship to bishop Mynster.58 Although the references to Fénelon are found already at the very beginning of Scharling’s study,59 they hardly had any impact on Kierkegaard, who had read Fénelon intensively three years earlier. Similarly, Arthur Schopenhauer’s (1788–1860) mentions of Fénelon and Madame Guyon in his elaboration on Christian asceticism in The World as Will and Representation60 were at best a déjà vu of Kierkegaard’s earlier encounters with the French thinker. III. Clearing the Way for The Sickness unto Death: Fénelon in Kierkegaard Søren Kierkegaard owned three different editions of Fénelon’s works, two of which he repeatedly quoted in his own writings: Johann Michael von Loen’s (1694–1776) translation of Fénelon’s Abrégé des vies des anciens philosophes61 and Matthias

Theologisk Bibliothek, published by Jens Møller, vols. 1–20, Copenhagen: Andreas Seidelin 1811–21, vol. 2, p. 50 (ASKB 326–335). 55 Ibid., vol. 2, pp. 50–1. 56 Ibid., pp. 68–9; p. 79; p. 81. 57 Carl Emil Scharling, Mystikeren Michael Molinos’s Lære og Skjæbne, Copenhagen: Hofbogtrykker Bianco Luno 1852. (Offprint from the Videnskabernes Selskabs Skrifter, 5th series, historisk og philologisk Afdeling, vol. 1, pp. 155–359) (ASKB 762). 58 Pap. X-6 B 212, p. 335. 59 Scharling, Mystikeren Michael Molinos’s Lære og Skjæbne, pp. 155–6; p. 158, note; p. 165, note. 60 Arthur Schopenhauer, Die Welt als Wille und Vorstellung, vols. 1–2, 2nd revised and enlarged ed., Leipzig: F.A. Brockhaus 1844 [1819], vol. 1, pp. 436–7; p. 441; vol. 2, pp. 610–11 (ASKB 773–773a). 61 [François de Salignac de la Mothe-Fénelon], Herrn von Fenelon weiland Erzbischofs und Herzogs zu Cambray kurze Lebens-Beschreibungen und Lehr-Sätze der alten Welt-Weisen, Frankfurt and Leipzig: Johann Friedrich Fleischer 1748 (ASKB 486). Johann Michael von Loen’s translation was published in 1748 and was reprinted with minor changes in 1762. The work was published also in 1796 in Johann Gottfried Gruber’s translation. Kierkegaard’s journals refer to Johann Michael von Loen’s edition from 1748, but The Auction Catalogue lists as the year of publication 1741. There is, however, no evidence of such an edition. Fénelon’s authorship of this work was disputed in the first half of the eighteenth century which is reflected also in the preface to the German translation. The German translation of this work exerted minimal influence in the German-speaking literary world. Cf. Bensiek, Die ästhetischliterarischen Schriften Fénelons und ihr Einfluß in der ersten Hälfte des 18. Jahrhunderts in Deutschland, pp. 148–9, p. 227; Max wieser, Der sentimentale Mensch, Gotha and Stuttgart: verlag Friedrich Andreas perthes 1924, pp. 289–90. 54

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Claudius’ translation of Fénelon’s religious works.62 Kierkegaard also owned a selection of Fénelon’s works in German entitled Sämmtliche Werke,63 but his explicit references to Fénelon’s writings do not mention this work. Both Fénelon’s Sämmtliche Werke and Claudius’ edition were purchased by Kierkegaard in the summer of 1844.64 The first mention of Fénelon in Kierkegaard’s corpus is found in the notes from Martensen’s Lectures on the History of More Recent Philosophy from Kant to Hegel from the winter semester of 1838–39 where Fénelon is briefly mentioned in the context of Friedrich Heinrich Jacobi’s relation to Christianity.65 In Kierkegaard’s own literary production the first reference to Fénelon dates back to the time in which the philosopher probably knew the Archbishop mainly from secondary sources. A short quotation from Fénelon appears in “The Esthetic validity of Marriage” in part II of Either/Or, where Fénelon’s poetic maxim on the notion of love is invoked.66 Although this quotation from Fénelon seems textually rather isolated, the surrounding passages link love to different acts of self-transcendence, such as going out of oneself, losing oneself, or forgetting oneself which are common in Fénelon’s exposition of his doctrine of pure love.67 Kierkegaard returned to Fénelon more intensively in 1844 when he was drafting two of his works: the pseudonymous “ ‘Guilty?’/‘Not Guilty?’ ” which became part of Stages on Life’s Way (1845) and the discourse “To Need God Is a Human Being’s Highest perfection” of his Four Upbuilding Discourses (1844). At first, in a journal entry from 1844, Kierkegaard notes that while reading the chapter on periander in Fénelon’s Lebens-Beschreibungen und Lehr-Sätze der alten Welt-Weisen he came across “something I have not read before and which is extremely interesting and poetic.”68 When drafting “ ‘Guilty?’/‘Not Guilty?’ ” he [Fénelon], Fenelon’s Werke religiösen Inhalts. The Auction Catalogue lists as the year of publication 1822. Matthias Claudius’ translation of Fénelon’s religious works contained also a short biography of Fénelon (vol. 2, pp. I–XXXIv) and an Appendix compiled from Blaise pascal’s Pensées (vol. 3, pp. 291–342). Kierkegaard was also familiar with Matthias Claudius’ own works which he owned and referred to in his journals. Cf. ASKB 1631–1632. 63 [Fénelon], Fr. de Salignac de la Motte-Fénelons sämmtliche Werke, vols. 1–2, Leipzig: Schwickert 1781–82 (ASKB 1912–1913) [cf. ASKB u 38]. Appendix II to The Auction Catalogue lists also the following work: [François de Salignac de la Mothe Fénelon], Les Aventures de Télémaque med danske Noter, Copenhagen 1826 (ASKB A II 284). 64 Kierkegaard purchased Fénelon’s Sämmtliche Werke on June 20, 1844 and Fénelon’s religious works edited by Matthias Claudius on July 29, 1844. Cf. H.p. Rohde, “Om Søren Kierkegaard som bogsamler,” Fund og forskning, no. vIII, 1961, pp. 119, 125. 65 Pap. II C 25, in pap. XII, p. 303. 66 SKS 3, 112 / EO2, 111: “Hence I say with Fenelon: ‘Believe in love—it takes everything, it gives everything.’” 67 SKS 3, 110–11 / EO2, 109–10; Cf. [Fénelon], Fenelon’s Werke religiösen Inhalts, vol. 1, p. 57; p. 66; p. 114; p. 139; 227; vol. 2, p. 98; p. 102; pp. 141–2. 68 SKS 18, 217, JJ:238 / KJN 2, 199. Kierkegaard does not refer in this case only to a certain aspect or part of Fénelon’s depiction of periander, but rather to the presentation as such, as he notes that the interesting part is found on pages 80–7 in Fénelon’s book, which is almost the whole account of periander’s life. 62

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again refers to this work,69 noting that Fénelon’s account of periander’s life shall be integrated in the deliberations of his pseudonymous alter-ego Frater Taciturnus. One of the things that apparently attracted Kierkegaard’s attention in Fénelon’s depiction of periander was Fénelon’s opening remark that “[i]t is very extraordinary that the Greeks included among the wise men someone who was such a fool as periander.”70 Kierkegaard quotes this sentence in his draft of “ ‘Guilty?’/‘Not Guilty?’ ”71 and it also later appears in the published version of Stages on Life’s Way.72 The published version of “ ‘Guilty?’/‘Not Guilty?’ ” contains in two instances yet another sentence which is directly taken from Fénelon’s description, in which the French author writes about periander that “[h]e always spoke as a wise man and always lived as a madman.”73 Kierkegaard uses in his draft of “ ‘Guilty?’/‘Not Guilty?’ ” as well as in the published version the French term “un fat”74 which is borrowed from a note to Fénelon’s text where the difference between the French terms “sot,” “fou” and “fat” is explained.75 Kierkegaard’s literary persona presents in “ ‘Guilty?’/‘Not Guilty?’ ” Periander’s life in a relatively comprehensive way, whereby Kierkegaard’s notes show that his knowledge of the Greek tyrant was derived (apart from Fénelon) also from Diogenes Laertius76 and Herodotus.77 Since these sources certainly also formed the basis of Fénelon’s own account, it is at times difficult to tell them apart in the Periander of “ ‘Guilty?’/‘Not Guilty?’ ” It is, however, obvious that Fénelon’s dialectical presentation of the ruler of Corinth as a man who spoke wisely and lived madly was a decisive factor for Kierkegaard’s elaborating on periander in a greater detail. An excerpt from Fénelon’s Traité de l’existence et des attributs de Dieu appears both in Kierkegaard’s draft78 and in the published version of Four Upbuilding Pap. v B 124. [Fénelon], Herrn von Fenelon weiland Erzbischofs und Herzogs zu Cambray kurze Lebens-Beschreibungen und Lehr-Sätze der alten Welt-Weisen, p. 78: “Es ist sehr ausserordentlich daß die Griechen einen Menschen unter die Zahl der Weisen gesetzt haben, der ein solcher Narr wie Periander war.” 71 Pap. v B 136, 2: “[D]et er meget paafaldende, at Grækerne iblandt de Vises Tal har kunnet regne en saadan Nar med, som Periander var.” 72 SKS 6, 301 / SLW, 323: “It is very striking that the Greeks could include such a fool as periander among the wise.” 73 [Fénelon], Herrn von Fenelon weiland Erzbischofs und Herzogs zu Cambray kurze Lebens-Beschreibungen und Lehr-Sätze der alten Welt-Weisen, p. 79: “Er sprach immer wie ein Weiser und lebte immer wie ein toller Mensch.” SKS 6, 288 / SLW, 310: “He is said to have talked like a wise man and acted like a lunatic.” SKS 6, 301 / SLW, 323: “Of him it is said that he always spoke as a wise man and always acted as a lunatic.” 74 Pap. v B 136, 2. SKS 6, 301 / SLW, 323. 75 [Fénelon], Herrn von Fenelon weiland Erzbischofs und Herzogs zu Cambray kurze Lebens-Beschreibungen und Lehr-Sätze der alten Welt-Weisen, p. 79. 76 In his draft of “The Reading Lesson” on periander Kierkegaard refers several times explicitly to Diogenes Laertius’ account of periander’s life. Cf. Pap. v B 136, 3. Pap. v B 136, 5–6. Pap. v B 136, 9. 77 Cf. Pap. v B 133. 78 Pap. v B 207, 1. 69 70

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Discourses (1844),79 where Fénelon’s poetic lament at human lack of interest in God is used to emphasize the fact that God’s greatness, wisdom, omnipresence, omnipotence and goodness make him invisible to a purely human eye. Kierkegaard found the quotation in Friedrich Heinrich Jacobi’s Allwills Briefsammlung in German, shortened it and translated it into Danish. In a journal entry from 1847 Kierkegaard comes back once again to the dialectics of a philosopher and a tyrant embodied in periander and notes that “[t]his combination would be absolutely ridiculous to the present age.”80 Kierkegaard’s journal entries from 1849 show that the Copenhagen philosopher was at this time reading Matthias Claudius’ edition of Fénelon’s works from which he excerpted not just Fénelon’s own observations, but also the wisdom of other Christian authors together with short and inspirational biblical texts.81 The first reference to Fénelon’s works from this period pertains to a statement of St. Teresa of Avila (1515–82) quoted by Fénelon in which the Carmelite saint declares that Christians often abandon prayer at the stage when prayer begins to be purified and becomes fruitful by means of a trial. Kierkegaard rephrased the second part of the quotation, noted that he came across this quotation in Fénelon more than once82 and confessed that “[t]hey are beautiful, those words by St. Theresa.”83 The fact that Kierkegaard was not looking exclusively for Fénelon’s own spiritual originality when reading his works is manifested in several quotations from the Bible that the Danish thinker copied from the Archbishop. Out of the four biblical quotations that Kierkegaard copied from Fénelon two stem from the books of Tobit and Ecclesiasticus,84 which are considered deuterocanonical in the Lutheran tradition but were included in the vulgate commonly used by the Catholics. The remaining two quotations stem equally from the Old Testament and are phrased in the form of concise aphorisms.85 when commenting on the quotation from Ecclesiasticus, Kierkegaard remarked that the verse “What doth he know, that hath not been tried?” could be used as a motto for the whole speculative dogmatics.86 In another journal entry Kierkegaard noted that “[a] pious man (Fenelon) has said: Sorrow is like an arrow in the breast—the more vigorously the deer runs in order to run away from it, the more firmly the arrow becomes embedded in it.”87 This reference—which the philosopher coupled with a related quotation from Horace— bears an interesting similarity to the way Kierkegaard phrased his own experience

SKS 5, 302 / EUD, 310. SKS 20, 158, NB2:44 / JP 3, 3311. Cf. SKS K20, 149. 81 The German text of the passages in Claudius’ translation to which Kierkegaard referred in his journals is quoted in the respective commentary volumes (SKS K). 82 Kierkegaard directly quotes a passage which appears in Fenelon’s Werke religiösen Inhalts, vol. 2, p. 61. A modified version of the same quotation from St. Teresa is found also in vol. 2, p. 120. 83 SKS 21, 372, NB10:210 / JP 3, 3435. 84 SKS 22, 206, NB12:113. 85 SKS 22, 9, NB11:4. SKS 22, 134, NB11:219. 86 SKS 22, 206, NB12:113. 87 SKS 22, 213, NB12:119 / JP 4, 4638. 79 80

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with sorrow in 1847: “From earliest childhood my heart has been pierced by an arrow of grief. As long as it is there I am ironic—if it is drawn out, I will die.”88 The Danish philosopher also reflected on an “inverted syllogism that Fenelon draws up somewhere”89 in which the multitude of false miracles is used as evidence that Christian miracles are real. Kierkegaard asserts that “[t]he point is that underneath such a universally human error there must be something true; this truth of miracle is the Christian miracle.”90 He links this to an allegedly similar reasoning of Franz von Baader in relation to non-Christian incarnations and the incarnation of Christ. The passage from Fénelon to which Kierkegaard alludes stems in reality from Blaise pascal (1623–62) and is found in the Appendix to Fénelon’s works that Matthias Claudius decided to include because of the similarity between pascal’s and Fénelon’s apology of Christianity.91 Although Kierkegaard read Fénelon with the aim of enriching his own spirituality, he was not entirely uncritical of what he found in the Catholic author. His explicit criticism concerned, however, solely Fénelon’s style, an aspect that was a rather sensitive point for Kierkegaard. In his journal the philosopher writes with obvious indignation “[h]ow fraudulent all this eloquence is in relation to Christianity appears even in the otherwise noble Fénelon.”92 Kierkegaard refers to two different upbuilding discourses in Claudius’ book without actually proving his point. He states that “[b]y and large it is the most disastrous notion in the world that ‘eloquence’ has become the medium for the proclamation of Christianity. Sarcasm, irony, humor lie far closer to the existential in Christianity.”93 Even if Kierkegaard’s argument may be welltaken, it is difficult to agree with his judgment on the style of Fénelon’s pastoral and devotional discourses, especially because Kierkegaard’s own edifying production shows similar variations of textual melodicity and colorfulness of lexical apparatus. A very specific and most intriguing period of Kierkegaard’s preoccupation with Fénelon is that of late June 1849. This was a time when the Copenhagen philosopher was entangled in several crucial decision-making processes, whose outcome was to a considerable degree affected by a vis maior. Kierkegaard summed up the essence of his decision-making in a pregnantly phrased journal entry dated June 25, 184994 and related the course of events at length again in 1851 in an entry entitled “How the publication of the Last pseudonym Took place: Anti-Climacus, The Sickness unto Death.”95 Kierkegaard noted in his journal that at this time he “wanted or rather thought it necessary to act circumspectly and make sure of an appointment first of all and then publish the books pseudonymously.”96 Here Kierkegaard is thinking of his chances of obtaining some form of gainful employment. Already after the publication of 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96

SKS 20, 179, NB2:92 / JP 5, 6025. SKS 22, 86, NB11:148 / JP 4, 4863. Ibid. Fenelon’s Werke religiösen Inhalts, vol. 3, p. vII. SKS 22, 133, NB11:215 / JP 1, 818. Ibid. SKS 22, 115–16, NB11:192 / JP 6, 6426. SKS 24, 351ff., NB24:54 / JP 6, 6762. SKS 22, 115, NB11:192 / JP 6, 6426.

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the Concluding Unscientific Postscript the philosopher came to the conclusion that “[m]y financial condition no longer permits me to be an author.”97 Following the military conflict in Schleswig-Holstein in 1848–49 the economic situation in Denmark deteriorated, and in a retrospect in 1851 Kierkegaard observed that “[t]he financial crisis had affected me very much and made it clear that in the future I would have to think about my finances.”98 In these circumstances an appointment to the pastoral seminary seemed to Kierkegaard to be a reasonable and feasible compromise. He decided to pay a visit to both the minister for Ecclesiastical and public Instruction Johan Nicolai Madvig (1804–86) and to the bishop Jakob peter Mynster (1775–1854) but did not succeed in seeing either of them.99 He recorded in his journal that “[d]uring the same period I had been reading Fenelon and Tersteegen. Both had made a powerful impact on me. A line by Fenelon struck me especially: that it must be dreadful for a man if God had expected something more from him.”100 Kierkegaard was, however, not influenced only by this brief admonition of Fénelon. His journal entry from June 25, 1849 is as a whole a reflection on a longer reasoning of Fénelon to which Kierkegaard referred explicitly: “I was struck by what I read today in Fenelon, part 2, p. 26 (Claudius’ translation).”101 Fénelon’s argumentation on how God prompts the individual’s spiritual growth and leads his decision-making was the following: [God] witholds from us such light that would be too brightly shining for our condition; he does not allow that we in our hearts should see what still needs to grow for some time....Even the most straightforward people who are most mindful of their faults remain in this state of darkness concerning certain acts of purification that God has reserved for a higher sphere of faith and mortification.102

Kierkegaard applied this spiritual observation of Fénelon to his own condition and discovered through its prism “a higher course” (et høiere Sving) in the recent events: The whole matter of its being a higher course than I had considered is no doubt true, but then a man ought not demand that the whole thing be transparent to him right away. And has not my idea been changed little by little, has not the intervention of Governance made me an author in a completely different sense than I originally had in mind.103

The pressing dilemma of choosing either the financially safe—but largely conformist—existence of a state employee or the vocation of an autonomous author was for Kierkegaard an experience that profoundly affected his future as a Pap. vII–1 B 211 / JP 5, 5881. SKS 24, 351, NB24:54 / JP 6, 6762. 99 Kierkegaard finally succeeded in seeing Mynster on Monday, June 25, 1849, but the meeting proved to be unproductive and discouraging. Cf. SKS 22, 116, NB11:193 / JP 6, 6429. 100 SKS 24, 351, NB24:54 / JP 6, 6762. 101 SKS 22, 115, NB11:192 / JP 6, 6426. 102 Fenelon’s Werke religiösen Inhalts, vol. 2, p. 26. 103 SKS 22, 115, NB11:192 / JP 6, 6426. 97 98

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religious author. He noted in 1851 that “[f]or me the publishing of these books has been an education in Christianity. I have come to a personal involvement so that I am not occupied with depicting Christianity just intellectually and poetically.”104 Fénelon’s exposition of the divine pedagogy was for the Danish philosopher part of the motivation that urged him to go on and publish The Sickness unto Death and strengthened his conviction “that God is not served by men who snap in the crucial moment.”105 Although Kierkegaard’s late journal entries do not mention Fénelon explicitly, there is at least one terminological similarity between the two authors that may be linked to Kierkegaard’s reading of the French Archbishop. From the first half of 1849 onward Kierkegaard increasingly began to refer to the work of God in the human soul and to the differentiation process of the religious individual in relation to the world and to his natural condition as “a cruel operation,”106 “a very painful operation,”107 or “this excruciatingly painful operation,”108 and asserted that “[t]o become a Christian is the most fearful operation of all, of all.”109 In Claudius’ translation of Fénelon’s religious works similar terminology is used repeatedly; Fénelon speaks of “a painful operation,”110 “innermost operation,”111 “most noble and perfect operation”112 emphasizing “the severity of the operation.”113 Both authors remind the reader that God’s operation is slow114 and that it touches the deepest level of one’s own self. Although Kierkegaard’s usage of the concept of “operation” does not overlap entirely with that of Fénelon, his intensive reading of Claudius’ translation makes it highly probable that he encountered the term in Fénelon and may have found it inspirational as a cogent metaphor. IV. Kierkegaard’s Peculiar Way of Listening to Fénelon In his reception of Fénelon’s theological legacy Kierkegaard did not open the great themes, whose elaboration was crucial from Fénelon’s own perspective for the determination of his self-definition as a theologian. The Danish philosopher touched SKS 24, 357, NB24:54 / JP 6, 6762. SKS 22, 115, NB11:192 / JP 6, 6426. when commenting on Kierkegaard’s decisionmaking in 1849 Marie Mikulová Thulstrup noted the following: “This case shows when and how Kierkegaard read edifying books and the works of the mystics; he had recourse to them in situations of doubt.” Marie Mikulová Thulstrup, “pietism,” in Kierkegaard and Great Traditions, ed. by Niels Thulstrup and Marie Mikulová Thulstrup, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1981 (Bibliotheca Kierkegaardiana, vol. 6), p. 206. 106 SKS 22, 352, NB14:15 / JP 1, 1081. 107 SKS 23, 446, NB20:99 / JP 2, 1409. SKS 24, 499, NB25:77. 108 SKS 23, 453, NB20:113 / JP 2, 1410. 109 SKS 21, 316, NB10:112 / JP 1, 496. 110 Fenelon’s Werke religiösen Inhalts, vol. 1, p. 223; See also vol. 2, pp. 4–7; p. 94. 111 Ibid., vol. 2, p. 249. 112 Ibid., vol. 3, p. 43. 113 Ibid., vol. 2, p. 106. 114 Ibid., vol. 2, p. 5; SKS 24, 469ff., NB25:49. 104 105

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only superficially upon Fénelon’s central doctrine of pure love, whose importance was recognized by Leibniz or Jean paul, but remained without a noticeable impact on Kierkegaard. Similarly, Fénelon’s contributions in the fields of dogmatics, apologetics, natural theology or ascetic-mystical theology,115 left but a faint echo in Kierkegaard’s excerpts from the French theologian. Also Fénelon’s political and pedagogical findings and reflections were almost entirely neglected by Kierkegaard; not even a single reference to the otherwise popular Telemachus appeared in Kierkegaard’s writings. On the other hand, the Copenhagen philosopher read minutely Fénelon’s largely second-hand account of Periander, which appeared in a historically marginal German translation of Abrégé des vies des anciens philosophes. Kierkegaard listened carefully to Fénelon’s spiritual advice contained in the original but peculiar selection of Fénelon’s theological thought put together by Matthias Claudius and was even able to see in Fénelon’s words a digitus Dei when dealing with a highly personal dilemma at the time of the publication of The Sickness unto Death. Interestingly enough, Kierkegaard owned Madame Guyon’s autobiography, which suggests that he was aware of the intriguing spiritual friendship between her and Fénelon; still, he never referred to this issue in his writings.116 It is obvious from Kierkegaard’s journals that his most intensive preoccupation with Fénelon’s literary oeuvre can be situated in the years 1844 and 1849. These two periods differ in several aspects, as the first one was still characterized by Kierkegaard’s encounter with Fénelon via secondary sources and the Archbishop’s non-religious literary production. On the other hand, the second phase was clearly linked to Kierkegaard’s first-hand reception of Fénelon’s religious thought. The first phase resulted in Kierkegaard’s purchase of the large Fénelonian corpus, which ultimately made the second phase possible, albeit after almost five years of silence. Kierkegaard’s recapitulation of his intense spiritual lesson from 1849 in 1851 did not lead to a further re-reading of Fénelon. It showed, however, how clearly Kierkegaard remembered Fénelon’s unforgetable share in his decision-making two years earlier. Just as in the case of other post-Reformation Catholic authors that Kierkegaard read—such as Ludovicus Blosius or Abraham a Sancta Clara—Fénelon’s CounterReformation agenda did not interest Kierkegaard. On the other hand, Kierkegaard’s positive view of Fénelon was at least in some measure affected by the cordial reception the Archbishop experienced in a variety of works of protestant provenance, not least in Matthias Claudius’ depiction. Kierkegaard spoke of the “noble Fénelon,”117 which was an adjective commonly associated with Fénelon in secondary literature, and

For a classification of Fénelon’s theological works, see Peter Manns, “Ergebnisse französischer und deutscher Fénelonforschung,” in Fénelon. Persönlichkeit und Werk, p. 379. 116 Kierkegaard also owned Madame Guyon’s spiritual writings in German translation. Cf. [Jeanne-Marie Bouvier de la Motte Guyon], Das Evangelium des Heiligen Geistes, vols. 1–3, Aarau 1832–36 (ASKB 525–527). 117 SKS 22, 133, NB11:215 / JP 1, 818. 115

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called him a “pious man,”118 which was a title that he attributed to only few spiritual authorities of the past. Given the fact that Fénelon was much less an ecclectic writer than Blosius or Abraham a Sancta Clara, Kierkegaard did not find in him such a large number of quotations from earlier spiritual writers, as in the case of the two mentioned authors. Still, Fénelon certainly represented for Kierkegaard part of a larger picture of “older” edifying authors, whose concisely formulated spiritual maxims found their way into the Kierkegaardian corpus. On the whole, it is obvious, however, that the most important merit of Fénelon from Kierkegaard’s own point of view was that he provided the Danish thinker with a glimpse of the Divine pedagogy at a time when Kierkegaard was searching for an interpretation of his own spiritual evolution and position. Also, Fénelon reminded Kierkegaard of the uncompromising character of a personal religious vocation at a time when Kierkegaard had already made steps that put in danger his mission as a religious author. From this perspective, Fénelon was one of the main architects of Kierkegaard’s decisive conviction “that God is not served by men who snap in the crucial moment”119 and helped to clear the way for the publication of The Sickness unto Death, thus assisting with the official birth of Anti-Climacus.

118 119

SKS 22, 213, NB12:119 / JP 4, 4638. SKS 22, 115, NB11:192 / JP 6, 6426.

Bibliography I. Fénelon’s Works in The Auction Catalogue of Kierkegaard’s Library Herrn von Fenelon weiland Erzbischofs und Herzogs zu Cambray kurze Lebens-Beschreibungen und Lehr-Sätze der alten Welt-Weisen, Frankfurt and Leipzig: Johann Friedrich Fleischer 1748 (ASKB 486). Fr. de Salignac de la Motte-Fénelons sämmtliche Werke, vols. 1–2, Leipzig: Schwickert 1781–82 (ASKB 1912–1913) [cf. ASKB u 38]. Fenelon’s Werke religiösen Inhalts, vols. 1–3, new ed., trans. by Matthias Claudius, Hamburg: Friedrich perthes 1823 [1800–11] (ASKB 1914). Les Aventures de Télémaque med danske Noter, Copenhagen 1826 (ASKB A II 284). Fr. de Salignac de la Motte-Fénelons sämmtliche Werke, vols. 1–2, Leipzig: Schwickert 1781–82 (ASKB u 38) [cf. ASKB 1912–1913]. II. Works in The Auction Catalogue of Kierkegaard’s Library that Discuss Fénelon [Becker, Karl Friedrich], Karl Friedrich Beckers Verdenshistorie, revised by Johan Gottfried woltmann, revised and trans. by J. Riise, vols. 1–12, Copenhagen: Fr. Brummer 1822–29, vol. 8, pp. 401–2 (ASKB 1972–1983). Chateaubriand, François-René, Die Martyrn oder der Triumph des Christenthums, vols. 1–2, ed. by Theodor von Haupt, Darmstadt: Carl wilhelm Leste 1810, vol. 1, pp. XXIII–XXv (ASKB 465). [Goethe, Johann wolfgang von], Goethe’s Werke. Vollständige Ausgabe letzter Hand [in 55 volumes], vols. 1–40, Stuttgart and Tübingen: J.G. Cotta’sche Buchhandlung 1827–30; Goethe’s nachgelassene Werke, vols. 41–55, Stuttgart and Tübingen: J.G. Cotta’sche Buchhandlung 1832–33, vol. 24, p. 50; p. 123 (ASKB 1641–1668). Guerike, Heinrich Ernst Ferdinand, Handbuch der Kirchengeschichte, vols. 1–2, 3rd revised and enlarged ed., Halle: in der Gebauerschen Buchhandlung 1838, vol. 2, p. 975; p. 979 (ASKB 158–159). [Guyon, Jeanne-Marie Bouvier de la Motte], Das Leben der Frau J.M.B. von la Mothe Guion von ihr selbst beschrieben, vols. 1–3, Berlin: Sandersche Buchhandlung 1826, vol. 1, p. XXIII; vol. 3, p. 125; pp. 142–3; pp. 170–1; pp. 246–7 (ASKB 915–917). [Hamann, Johann Georg], Hamann’s Schriften, vols. 1–8, Berlin and Leipzig, G. Reimer 1821–43, vol. 7, p. 352 (ASKB 536–544).

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Hase, Karl, Kirkehistorie. Lærebog nærmest for akademiske Forelæsninger, trans. by C. winther and T. Schorn, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1837, p. 550; p. 556 (ASKB 160–166). [Herder, Johann Gottfried von], Johann Gottfried von Herder’s sämmtliche Werke. Zur Religion und Theologie, vols. 1–18, Stuttgart and Tübingen: J.G. Cotta’sche Buchhandlung 1827–30, vol. 14, p. 196 (ASKB 1676–1684). —— Johann Gottfried von Herder’s sämmtliche Werke. Zur Philosophie und Geschichte, vols. 1–22, Stuttgart and Tübingen: J.G. Cotta’sche Buchhandlung 1827–30, vol. 11, pp. 17–20; pp. 38–46; pp. 58–67; p. 107; p. 109; p. 113; p. 127; vol. 13, p. 80; vol. 14, pp. 132–43; p. 338 (ASKB 1695–1705). [Jacobi, Friedrich Heinrich], Friedrich Heinrich Jacobi’s Werke, vols. 1–6, Leipzig: Gerhard Fleischer 1812–25, vol. 1, pp. 173–4; vol. 3, p. 1; p. 47; vol. 4, Abtheilung 3, p. 320; vol. 6, pp. 73–4 (ASKB 1722–1728). Jöcher, Christian Gottlieb, Allgemeines Gelehrten-Lexicon, vols. 1–4, Leipzig: Johann Friedrich Gleditschens Buchhandlung 1750–51, vol. 1, p. 1276; vol. 2, pp. 557–8, 1274 (ASKB 948–951). [Leibniz, Gottfried wilhelm], God. Guil. Leibnitii Opera philosophica, quæ exstant, parts 1–2, Berlin: G. Eichler, 1839–40, part 2, p. 582; pp. 789–91 (ASKB 620). —— Theodicee, 5th ed., Hannover and Leipzig: verlag der Försterischen Erben 1763, p. 459 (ASKB 619). Longin, Dionysius, Dionysius Longin vom Erhabenen Griechisch und Teutsch, Nebst dessen Leben, einer Nachricht von seinen Schriften, und einer Untersuchung, was Longin durch das Erhabene verstehe, trans. and ed. by Carl Heinrich Heineken, Leipzig and Hamburg: Conrad König 1738, p. 125 (ASKB 1129). Menzel, wolfgang, Die deutsche Literatur, vols. 1–4, 2nd enlarged ed., Stuttgart: Hallberg’sche verlagshandlung 1836, vol. 1, p. 145 (ASKB u 79). Møller, Jens, “Biographier og Characteristiker. Fenelon,” Theologisk Bibliothek, vols. 1–20, published by Jens Møller, Copenhagen: Andreas Seidelin 1811–21, vol. 2, pp. 49–88 (ASKB 326–335). Moréri, Louis, Le Grand Dictionnaire historique, vols. 1–6, Basel: Jean Brandmuller 1731–32, vol. 4, pp. 39–40; p. 409 (ASKB 1965–1969). [Münscher, wilhelm], Dr. Wilhelm Münschers Lærebog i den christelige Kirkehistorie, til Brug ved Forelæsninger, trans. by Frederik Münter, revised and ed. by Jens Möller, Copenhagen: F. Brummer 1831, p. 306; p. 337 (ASKB 168). Mynster, Jakob peter, Blandede Skrivter, vols. 1–3, Copenhagen: Den Gyldendalske Boghandlings Forlag 1852–53 [vols. 4–6, Copenhagen: Den Gyldendalske Boghandlings Forlag 1855–57], vol. 1, p. 106; p. 114; p. 463 (ASKB 358–363). [Richter, Johann paul Friedrich], Jean paul, Jean Paul’s sämmtliche Werke, vols. 1–60, Berlin: G. Reimer 1826–28 [vols. 61–5, Jean Paul’s sämmtliche Werke. Jean Paul’s literarischer Nachlaß, Berlin: G. Reimer 1836–38 and Jean Paul Friedrich Richter. Ein biographischer Commentar zu dessen Werken by Richard Otto Spazier, Neffen des Dichters, Leipzig: wigand 1833], vol. 23, p. 149; vol. 24, p. 175; vol. 36, p. 60; vol. 60, p. 21 (ASKB 1777–1799). Scharling, Carl Emil, Mystikeren Michael Molinos’s Lære og Skjæbne, Copenhagen: Hofbogtrykker Bianco Luno 1852 (offprint from the Videnskabernes Selskabs Skrifter, 5th series, historisk og philologisk Afdeling, vol. 1, pp. 155–359),

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pp. 155–6, p. 158, note; p. 165, note; p. 198, note; p. 204; p. 207, note; p. 24, note; p. 256, note; p. 258, note; p. 265, note; p. 275; p. 286; p. 288, note; p. 289, note; p. 344 (ASKB 762). Schopenhauer, Arthur, Die Welt als Wille und Vorstellung, vols. 1–2, 2nd revised and enlarged ed., Leipzig: F.A. Brockhaus 1844 [1819], vol. 1, p. 436 (ASKB 773–773a). Staudenmaier, Franz Anton, Encyklopädie der theologischen Wissenschaften als System der gesammten Theologie, Mainz: Florian Kupferberg 1834, p. 782 (ASKB 69). Sulzer, Johann Georg, Allgemeine Theorie der Schönen Künste, in einzeln, nach alphabetischer Ordnung der Kunstwörter auf einander folgenden, Artikeln abgehandelt, vols. 1–4 and a register volume, 2nd revised ed., Leipzig: weidmannsche Buchhandlung 1792–99, vol. 1, p. 125; p. 377; p. 502; p. 670; vol. 2, p. 145; p. 412; p. 586; vol. 3, p. 329; vol. 4, p. 38; p. 61; p. 577 (ASKB 1365–1369). Thomsen, Grimur, Om den nyfranske Poesi, et Forsøg til Besvarelse af Universitetets æsthetiske Priisspørgsmaal for 1841: “Har Smag og Sands for Poesi gjort Frem- eller Tilbageskridt i Frankrig i de sidste Tider og hvilken er Aarsagen?,” Copenhagen: wahlske Boghandlings Forlag 1843, p. 6 (ASKB 1390). wette, wilhelm Martin Leberecht de, Lærebog i den christelige Sædelære og sammes Historie, Copenhagen: Reitzel 1835, pp. 181–2 (ASKB 871). zimmermann, Johann Georg, Ueber die Einsamkeit, vols. 1–4, Leipzig: weidmanns Erben und Reich 1784–85, vol. 2, pp. 170–1 (ASKB 917–920). III. Secondary Literature on Kierkegaard’s Relation to Fénelon Šajda, peter, “ ‘The wise men went another way’: Kierkegaard’s Dialogue with Fénelon and Tersteegen in the Summer of 1849,” in Kierkegaard and Christianity, ed. by Roman Králik et al., Toronto and Šaľa: Kierkegaard Circle 2008 (Acta Kierkegaardiana, vol. 3), pp. 89–105. Thulstrup, Marie Mikulová, “pietism,” in Kierkegaard and Great Traditions, ed. by Niels Thulstrup and Marie Mikulová Thulstrup, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1981 (Bibliotheca Kierkegaardiana, vol. 6), pp. 173–222.

August Hermann Francke: Kierkegaard on the Kernel and the Husk of pietist Theology Joseph Ballan

I. August Hermann Francke If a single figure can justifiably be credited with the crystallization of Pietism as an establishment, that is, as a deliberate, coherent institutional program and not merely as an intellectual or academic critique of early Lutheran formalist dogmatism, it is surely August Hermann Francke (1663–1727). One cannot discount the influence exercised upon Francke’s thought by Johann Arndt, in many ways the clearest precursor of what we now call pietism and whose works Francke had known from childhood, and philipp Jakob Spener (1635–1705), who provided much of the theological substance for Francke’s program, but neither should one minimize the singular administrative and pastoral genius of the individual who made Halle (Salle) the educational and ministerial center of pietism in the eighteenth century. Francke’s encounter with Spener in 1687 was nevertheless absolutely decisive. Before that point in his life, Francke had distinguished himself as a philologist and exegete, less interested in theological studies and pastoral work than in the kind of scholarly discussions that took place in the weekly Collegium Philobiblicum that he cofounded with his friend paul Anton in Leipzig. After meeting Spener and beginning to read the literature of Quietist mystics (especially the Guida Spirituale of Miguel Molinos), his contributions to these discussions took the form of more “existential,” edifying interpretations.1 Later that year, having been sent by his uncle, who was concerned by his nephew’s lack of enthusiasm for pastoral responsibilities, to Lüneberg to study with the prominent exegete Caspar Hermann Sandhagen, Francke had a conversion experience that determined the path he would follow thereafter. The realization that he could not conscionably preach, as he was asked to in Lüneberg, on John 20:31 and specifically on the distinction that verse implies between “true living faith...[and] a mere human and imaginary foolish faith,”2 was the occasion for Francke’s Busskampf (penitential struggle). His conversion Johannes wallmann, Der Pietismus, Göttingen: vandenhoeck & Ruprecht 2005, pp. 106–7. 2 August Hermann Francke, “Autobiography,” Pietists: Selected Writings, ed. by peter C. Erb, New York: paulist press 1983, p. 102. 1

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experience took place as a turning away from what he considered to be a rationalistic religion whose criteria of certainty were dictated by secular Enlightenment ideals and a turning toward a “living faith” which one could experience with psychological certainty. Francke’s autobiographical report describes his pre-conversion intellectual life as racked by typically Enlightenment doubts regarding the Bible’s authority which disappeared instantaneously following his personal experience of conversion. As church historian Markus Matthias has it, the affective dimension of this turning point provided Francke, somewhat paradoxically to modern ears, with “a rational solution to the problem of certainty.”3 while Francke is often associated with a rigid insistence that true Christians can identify a discrete, historical conversion experience such as he had, the first step in a fixed ordo salutis (order of salvation) whose time and place a true believer would never forget, the primary interest evinced by his preaching and teaching (he wrote no theological treatise as such) is actually the nature of the Christian’s new relation to God and not the conversion experience as an end in itself. Like Arndt and Spener before him, Francke sought to undo the practical consequences of the early Lutheran emphasis on God’s initiative in the justification of the individual sinner, shifting that emphasis to human responsibility for turning toward God, dedicating one’s life anew to the processes of regeneration and sanctification. Spener’s Pia Desideria, in many ways the germ cell for what would become identifiably Halle Pietism, reclaims the notion of theology as a practical discipline intended to inform the practice of the regenerated Christian’s life.4 under Francke’s leadership, the theological curriculum at Halle trained ministers to carry out the program inspired by Spener. As F. Ernest Stoeffler has it, Francke “fashioned Spenerian pietism into the most self-assured, theologically compact, as well as dynamic, religious movement of his day.”5 As a reaction against Lutheran scholasticism, Halle stood for das Nützliche, that is to say, for those theological principles which have relevance for the practical Christian life as well as for the encouragement of a necessarily affective dimension to the experience of grace and of repentance. In Stoeffler’s helpful formulation, Halle represented a program of simplification (of doctrine) on the one hand and intensification (of affect) on the other.6 Finally, in addition to being a center for theological and pastoral study, Halle was a center for an ecumenism based upon the conviction that the community of the reborn transcends confessional boundaries, for missions (especially to India), and home to the famous Franckesche Stiftungen, schools at which poor children learned Hebrew instead of classical Greek and Latin, in addition to classic works of Christian spirituality. An orphanage was also associated with these schools, established at Halle as a result of Francke’s philanthropic efforts.

Markus Matthias, “August Hermann Francke (1663–1727),” in The Pietist Theologians, ed. by Carter Lindberg, Malden, Massachusetts: Blackwell 2005, p. 103. 4 See, e.g., Spener, “pia Desideria,” Pietists: Selected Writings, ed. by peter C. Gibb, p. 42. 5 F. Ernest Stoeffler, German Pietism during the Eighteenth Century, Leiden: Brill 1973, p. 36. 6 Ibid., p. 45. 3

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II. Kierkegaard on Francke, Spener, and Halle Pietism From very brief biographical notes regarding Francke recorded in 1831 or 1832, we know that Kierkegaard was aware of the pietist theologian and administrator from early on in his intellectual development.7 Other than this biographical notice, however, Kierkegaard discusses Francke only twice in his papers. He did not possess any of Francke’s own works, but encountered him instead in several different secondary sources, mostly works of modern church history8 as well as a monograph on Francke’s life written by one of his successors at Halle.9 Additionally, Kierkegaard owned a book of Spener’s answers to the objections of his orthodox opponents10 and also cites a monograph on this significant intellectual and political influence on Francke,11 so we can ascertain that, while he was no church historian, his readings nevertheless gave him a sense of the historical trajectory of Halle pietism. He knew the phenomenon of Halle pietism in a more experiential way through its influence upon N.L. Zinzendorf, who studied in Francke’s Paedagogium at Halle, but who nevertheless took the theological program characteristic of Halle in a more radical direction.12 As Bruce Kirmmse explains, two versions of Halle pietism were transmitted from Germany to Denmark: one imposed by pastors who were convinced by Spener and Francke’s theological perspective and one which, thanks to the missionary work of zinzendorf and others, inspired a highly emotional, less theologically rigorous movement among the laity. we know the latter as Moravian or Herrnhut pietism, to which Kierkegaard’s father subscribed and which Kierkegaard therefore encountered at an early age in the form of Sunday evening lay meetings of the Congregation of Moravian Brethren in Copenhagen.13 For Kierkegaard, Halle pietism is, above all, a sociopolitical phenomenon, subject to his developing critique of the history of established Christianity as the history of Christianity’s decline or annulment. In 1848, certainly one of the most significant years in the political history of Europe and two years before Kierkegaard Pap. I C 5. Most especially Christian Märklin, Darstellung und Critik des modernen Pietismus, Stuttgart: Franz Heinrich Kohler 1839 (not in ASKB); Karl Hase, Hutterus redivivus oder Dogmatik der evangelisch-lutherischen Kirche, Leipzig: Breitkopf und Härtel 1839 (ASKB 581); J.A. Kanne, Leben und aus dem Leben merkwürdiger und erweckter Christen, Leipzig: F.A. Brockhaus 1842 (ASKB 589). 9 Heinrich Ernst Guericke, August Hermann Francke: Eine Säcularfeier seines Todes, Halle: Buchhandlung des waisenhauses 1827. 10 Philipp Jakob Spener’s deutsche und lateinische theologische Bedenken. In einer zeitgemäßen Auswahl, ed. by F.A.E. Hennicke, Halle: Gebauersche Buchhandlung 1838 (ASKB 268). 11 wilhelm Hossbach, Phillip Jakob Spener und seine Zeit, Berlin: F. Dümmler 1828 (not in ASKB). See SKS 24, 140, NB22:67 / JP 3, 3320. 12 For instance, the insistence on heartfelt conversion and Busskampf in Francke becomes an emotionally high-pitched experience of a very human, suffering Jesus, whose agony is vividly called to mind in the sermons and devotional literature produced by zinzendorf and his disciples. 13 Bruce Kirmmse, Kierkegaard in Golden Age Denmark, Bloomington, Indiana: Indiana university press 1990, pp. 29–35. 7 8

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renewed his studies in church history, he draws a comparison between pietism and communism. The Pietism to which he specifically refers is that of the Christiansfeldt community of Moravian Brethren, where one could presumably discover the same commitment to holding all things in common, the elimination of inequalities, and the distrust of scholarship, wealth, and prestige that one would find espoused by the most radical communists of the day.14 Two years later, Kierkegaard culls from what may have been the only book he read that was devoted to the phenomenon of pietism as such, Christian Märklin’s Darstellung und Critik des modernen Pietismus, as well as from wilhelm Hossbach’s mostly sympathetic book on Spener, cited above, a paradigm for the interpretation of pietism. with Spener, Kierkegaard claims, pietism began as a “heterodox” critique of the Lutheran establishment (“orthodoxy”). As the “established” church relaxed the rigors of its proclamation, a tendency Kierkegaard notes as being already present by the second generation after Luther,15 the theological and ecclesiastical perspective represented by Spener eventually became “the only little stronghold orthodoxy has.”16 This assessment demonstrates Kierkegaard’s conviction regarding a transformation in the meanings of “pietism” and “orthodoxy.” On the one hand, Pietism signifies an existential critique of theology in so far as, within that discipline, a scholastic concern with correct doctrine has taken precedence over the desire to encourage the personal regeneration of individual Christians. On the other hand, the living force of this existential critique has the potential to congeal into a rigidity similar in form, if not in content, to the kind of Christianity against which it was originally reacting (which Kierkegaard calls, variously, “established” or “orthodox” Christianity). As evidenced by his discussions of Spener’s intellectual successor, Kierkegaard understands Francke to be a key figure in this process. Francke makes two appearances in Kierkegaard’s unpublished papers, both in 1850 and both based upon Guericke’s biography of the Halle Pietist. The first is a very short entry that merely takes note of Francke’s response to the charge that he was attempting to organize a new religion altogether. Kierkegaard quotes him in the German that Guericke cites: “Ich verlange keine neue Religion sondern neue Herzen [I want no new religion, but rather new hearts].”17 The second, longer reference connects Francke with a feature of pietism that Kierkegaard had noted much earlier (in 1838) with regard to Spener, namely, the distinction between moral and cognitive adiaphora.18 Early Lutheran theology placed activities such as social dancing and games under the category of moral adiaphora, or “indifferent things”; those activities which St. paul had declared peripheral to the message of salvation through faith in Jesus Christ and thus of secondary importance theologically (e.g., 1 Cor 8:8–9). The notion of adiaphora, however, is but one interpretation of St. paul, and one which practical theology in the tradition of Spener and Francke disputed.19 witness, for

14 15 16 17 18 19

Pap. IX B 22. I.e., Johann Arndt’s generation; see SV1 XII 461 / JFY, 193–4. SKS 24, 140, NB22:67 / JP 3, 3320. SKS 24, 248, NB23:82 / JP 3, 3321. SKS 17, 271–2, DD:180 / KJN 1, 262. See Stoeffler, German Pietism, p. 18; p. 70; p. 76.

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instance, these injunctions from Francke’s “Rules for the protection of conscience and for good order in conversation or in society”: Games and other pastimes such as dancing, jumping, and so forth, arise from an improper and empty way of life, and common and unchaste postures in speech are associated with them. If you begin to take part in such activities, so that no other greater sins follow, consider well if it would not be wiser for you to leave them than to remain with them, since they provide an opportunity for you to become enmeshed in a disorderly way of life, or at least make it very difficult for you to preserve the peace of God in your soul.20

Rather than caricaturing the position, Kierkegaard shows the distinction between Francke’s refusal to use the category of adiaphora in his considerations of games and dancing and his refusal to make such matters “primary subjects for discussion.”21 He recognizes that, for Francke, the most significant matter remains “the improvement of the heart.”22 Nevertheless, after showing some nuance in Francke’s practical theology, Kierkegaard subjects it to critical scrutiny. while he ultimately treats what some would call adiaphora as being secondary to repentance and heartfelt conversion, Francke still takes up the question of games and dancing in order to give theological reasons why Christians ought not to partake in such activities. Against this stance, Kierkegaard suggests a “more sagacious approach,” one which declares “I am so far behind in Christianity that I do not have time to get involved in the question of dancing, or to dance, either.”23 The “authentic religious” and “essentially Christian” position consists in confessing one’s inability to give reasons or to know with certainty the correct judgment on such issues. Finally, Kierkegaard cannot resist pointing out something of the humor of Francke’s discussions of games and dancing. He mocks the contention that dancing interferes with one’s “imitation of Christ” as being almost laughably “high and lofty.” In proceeding thus, Kierkegaard claims, “Francke’s argument breaks into a falsetto; it is too high.”24 we remind ourselves here that Kierkegaard encountered Francke’s observations and deliberations in a biography by an unabashed admirer of his. Kierkegaard was not, then merely appropriating or repeating in his journals the insights of some church historian on Francke and the theological and ecclesiastical movement with which he is associated. His critical stance was quite original. III. Francke and Tersteegen in Kierkegaard’s Thematization of “Pietism” There are at least two meanings of “pietism” in Kierkegaard’s work, roughly, though not exactly, corresponding to the distinction historians make between “church Pietists: Selected Writings, ed. by peter C. Erb, p. 111. This document also warns against “unnecessary laughter” to the point of declaring that “all laughter is forbidden” (p. 112). 21 SKS 24, 254, NB23:92 / JP 3, 3322. 22 Ibid. 23 Ibid. 24 Ibid. 20

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pietism” and “radical pietism.” Juxtaposing three references to “pietism” from 1850 should illustrate this distinction. In one place, Kierkegaard calls Pietism, defined as “witnessing for the truth” and as the refusal of a “shrewd and secular conformity with this world,” the “one and only consequence of Christianity.”25 Several notebook entries later, Kierkegaard denies that he has ever attempted to introduce “pietism... pietistic strictness and the like”26 into contemporary religious discourse, but instead claims that he has limited himself to a criticism of “falsehood with respect to the existential.”27 pietism would be one form that such a critical project has taken historically, but it is by no means the only one. pages later, he accentuates this denial, emphatically declaring that “I have never made the slightest gesture in th[e] direction” of Pietism, which he defines here as “petty and pusillanimous renunciation in things that do not matter.”28 These sentiments echo his thoughts, noted above, on pietism’s evolution from a heterodox critique of the established church into an establishment in and of itself. They also remind one of Anti-Climacus’ criticism, published in the same year as the three “pietism” remarks, of what he takes to be the pharisaical stance of contemporary Christianity. Christ, Anti-Climacus claims, abolished the identification of faith with an individual’s living within any relative (e.g., ecclesiastical, social, or political) structure, making “piety into absolute inwardness not directly commensurable with the external.”29 One might say, then, that Kierkegaard opposes the pietism of commensurability (with, for example, the church or with a particular manner of social comportment) to the pietism of incommensurability (with any externality or relativity). Historically, the difference internal to pietism that Kierkegaard seems to be thematizing in 1850 manifested itself as the distance between so-called church pietists like Francke, who worked within ecclesiastical structures for their reform, and radical pietists like Gottfried Arnold (1666–1714) and Gerhard Tersteegen (1697–1769), who followed the more mystical, spiritualistic, and church-critical currents existing during the time of and following the Reformation.30 As we saw in the last section, Kierkegaard’s interpretation of Francke is not wholly negative. In Francke’s professed desire to see renewal of the heart rather than the establishment of a new religion, Kierkegaard recognized the kernel of truth that he admired in pietist thought and that could be appreciated separately from obsession with matters like games and dancing, the “husk” in which pietism has so often appeared historically.31 Nevertheless, as we saw, Kierkegaard does not ignore or excuse this SKS 23, 486, NB 20:175 / JP 3, 3318. SKS 24, 51, NB21:77 / JP 6, 6685. 27 SKS 24, 52, NB21:77 / JP 6, 6685. 28 SKS 24, 69, NB21:114 / JP 3, 3319. 29 SKS 12, 100 / PC, 92. 30 See, forexample, Hans Schneider, “Der radikale pietismus im 17. Jahrhundert,” Geschichte des Pietismus, ed. by Martin Brecht, Göttingen: vandenhoeck & Ruprecht 1995, pp. 391–4. It is interesting to note that both tendencies: church reform and medieval mystical spirituality, are present in the figure of Johann Arndt, whose devotional work gave impetus to pietists of widely varying allegiances and persuasions. 31 I use the imagery of “husk” and “kernel” because Francke used these categories in formulating his biblical hermeneutic, which distinguishes between the exegetical reading of 25 26

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obsession of Francke’s and the approach to spiritual matters that follows from it and threatens the grain of truth, that is, the personal need for existential conversion that originally gripped Francke and propelled him into a life of ministry. For this reason, we note a difference between the way Kierkegaard approaches Francke and Spener and the way he reads, for instance, Arndt and Tersteegen. The sources he uses give one indication of this difference. In the main, he encounters Francke and Spener in scholarly monographs, biographies, and church histories; he reads Arndt and Tersteegen in their original texts.32 Similarly, Kierkegaard nearly always treats the religion of Spener and Francke as a sociopolitical phenomenon, whereas he reads the works of Arndt and Tersteegen subjectively or existentially, exposing himself and his life situations to the wisdom he finds in their texts. In fact, as Marie Mikulová Thulstrup notes, “Kierkegaard respected and honoured Tersteegen as a witness to the truth” and not specifically as a Pietist or mystic, Protestant or Catholic.33 That he might place Tersteegen more accurately in the Quietist lineage can be inferred from a journal entry in which he reads Tersteegen together with Fénelon.34 More important than his understanding of Tersteegen’s place within the history of spirituality, however, is what Thulstrup’s observation implies, namely, that “pietism” as a category (historical, theological, or otherwise) ultimately proved to be too narrow for Kierkegaard to appreciate or extol in unequivocal terms. In Tersteegen he reads a “beautiful thought,” a “penetrating” observation, a “superb” sermon, an “excellent point”; Tersteegen is altogether “incomparable. In him I find genuine and noble piety and simple wisdom.”35 That Tersteegen, who remains in an important sense one of the most significant eighteenth-century voices for radical Pietism, did not “offer a programme” or an analysis of “contemporary ecclesial life and its needs,” much less an evaluation of the merits and demerits of social dancing,36 rendered Kierkegaard more well-disposed toward his work than he was toward the work of, for instance, Spener and Francke. He admired the pioneering seventeenth- and eighteenth-century pietist theologians for their criticism of Lutheran scholasticism, dogmatism, and exaltation of doctrine over life, but over time, as this critical posture lost its edge, and congealed into institutional forms that privileged the surveillance of external behavior over vigilance with regard to the inward, spiritual state of the individual, Kierkegaard suggests that it must itself be subjected to criticism.

Scripture (which produces the sensum literalem, the sense intended by the Holy Spirit) and the grammatical reading of Scripture (which yields the sensus literae, the “proper and innate signification” of the text). See Matthias, “August Hermann Francke,” pp. 104–5. 32 For Kierkegaard’s reading of Arndt, see my “Johann Arndt: The pietist Impulse in Kierkegaard and Early Lutheran Devotional Literature” in this volume. 33 Marie Mikulová Thulstrup, “pietism,” Kierkegaard and Great Traditions, ed. by Niels Thulstrup and Marie Mikulová Thulstrup, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1981 (Bibliotheca Kierkegaardiana, vol. 6), p. 206. 34 SKS 22, 115–16, NB11:192 / JP 6, 6426. 35 SKS 23, 360, NB19:43. 36 Marie Mikulová Thulstrup, “pietism,” p. 198.

Bibliography I. Francke’s Works in The Auction Catalogue of Kierkegaard’s Library None. II. Works in The Auction Catalogue of Kierkegaard’s Library that Discuss Francke Hansen, M. Mørk, Populær Fremstilling af Kirkens Historie for tænkende Christne, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1848, pp. 240–3 (ASKB 167). Hase, Karl, Kirkehistorie. Lærebog nærmest for akademiske Forelæsninger, trans. by C. winther and T. Schorn, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1837, p. 523 (ASKB 160–166). Helfferich, Adolph, Die christliche Mystik in ihrer Entwickelung und in ihren Denkmalen, vols. 1–2, Gotha: Friedrich perthes 1842, vol. 1, p. 50 (ASKB 571– 572). Kanne, J.A., Leben und aus dem Leben merckwürdiger und erweckter Christen, 2nd ed., Leipzig: F.A. Brockhaus 1842, pp. 169–245 (ASKB 589). Rudelbach, Andreas G., Om Psalme-Literaturen og Psalmebogs-Sagen, Historiskkritiske Undersøgelser, vol. 1, Copenhagen: C.G. Iversen 1854, p. 368 [vol. 2, 1856] (ASKB 193). III. Secondary Literature on the Relation between Kierkegaard and Francke Thulstrup, Marie Mikulová “pietism,” Kierkegaard and Great Traditions, ed. by Niels Thulstrup and Marie Mikulová Thulstrup, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1981 (Bibliotheca Kierkegaardiana, vol. 6), pp. 173–222.

Thomas Kingo: An Investigation of the poet’s and Hymnist’s Impact on Kierkegaard Christopher B. Barnett

Kierkegaard had a great “appreciation”1 for hymns. Not only did he collect a variety of hymnbooks and hymn anthologies—mostly in Danish, but also in German and in Swedish2—but he cherished the singing of hymns in church services. As he puts it in an 1847 journal entry, “The singing of hymns engages me more than anything else in the whole church service.”3 That is not to suggest, however, that Kierkegaard valued every hymn put before him. On the contrary, he was as much a critic as an enthusiast. He kept secondary literature dealing with hymnody, including Carl Adolph Thortsen’s Historical View of Danish Literature4 and the first volume of Andreas Gottlob Rudelbach’s On Hymn Literature and the Matter of the Hymnbook.5 And, not surprisingly, he came to formulate his own views on the issue: “what is written on the subject of the hymnbook is very mediocre,”6 he wrote in 1847. “For a good hymn, I insist on altogether simple and to a certain extent insignificant words...and then one of those fervent melodies.”7 Also important was the “tone”8 of the hymn. In Kierkegaard’s view, hymns are to have a particular, even “true” mood—namely, the “inward pain which in quiet sadness is reconciled with God.”9 But not all hymnists recognize this point. For him, a notable offender is the Danish church reformer and hymn-writer, Nikolai Frederik Severin Grundtvig: “[I]t would be impossible for the impetuous 1 Niels Jørgen Cappelørn, “Kierkegaard som bogkøber og bogsamler,” in Niels Jørgen Cappelørn, Gert possett and Bent Rohde, Tekstspejle: Om Søren Kierkegaard som bogtilrettelægger, boggiver og bogsamler, Esbjerg: Rosendahls Forlag 2002, pp. 105–219; p. 131. Translations from foreign-language titles are my own; however, unless otherwise noted. 2 Cappelørn, “Kierkegaard som bogkøber og bogsamler,” pp. 131–3. 3 SKS 20, 290, NB4:6 / JP 5, 6097. 4 Carl Adolph Thortsen, Historisk Udsigt over den danske Litteratur indtil Aar 1814, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1839 (ASKB 970). 5 Andreas G. Rudelbach, Om Psalme-Literaturen og Psalmebogs-Sagen: Historiskkritiske Undersøgelser, vol. 1, Copenhagen: C.G. Iversen 1854 [vol. 2, 1856] (ASKB 193). 6 SKS 20, 290, NB4:6 / JP 5, 6097. 7 Ibid. 8 Ibid. 9 Ibid.

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Grundtvig to write” a hymn expressing “proper piety,” for Grundtvig cannot understand “the piety of a quiet suffering person.”10 His are the hymns of “a jaunty yodeller, or a bellowing blacksmith.”11 Hence, if an appropriate hymn is like “the sky in autumn’s gray weather when the soft, gentle colors shift and change in the finest design,” Grundtvig’s are closer to “a train pounding on its way.”12 Kierkegaard’s criticism of Grundtvigian hymns is not insignificant. After all, in addition to his other accomplishments, Grundtvig is considered one of Denmark’s three finest hymnists.13 But whose hymns, then, did Kierkegaard appreciate? An important clue is found in the 1847 journal entry cited above, where Kierkegaard asserts, “I know Kingo’s hymns by heart.”14 This reference is to the Danish poet and hymnist, Thomas Hansen Kingo (1634–1703), who, along with Hans Adolph Brorson,15 completes the triumvirate of great Danish hymn-writers. As Andrew Burgess points out, Kierkegaard’s claim to “know Kingo’s hymns by heart” should not be taken lightly: “This kind of claim is much more than many churchgoers, or even some professional musicians, would be prepared to make about their hymnals today.”16 Thus it appears that, in Kingo, Kierkegaard found a hymnist whose pieces demand time and attention, a poet who nurtures “proper piety.” The task of this essay is to investigate why that was the case. First, however, it is necessary to account for Kingo himself—his educational background, his place in Danish church life, and, of course, his hymnody. Then Kierkegaard’s reception of Kingo will be explored. It is hoped that, in the end, Kingo will emerge as a notable influence on Kierkegaard. His importance may not rival that of a Hamann or of a Hegel, but, just as Kierkegaard knew Kingo “by heart,” so is Kingo’s impact on Kierkegaard beneath the surface, always there, even if its presence is felt only on occasion. I. Lining the perimeter of Frederik’s Church in Copenhagen are the statues of 14 Danish church “fathers.” One of these statues is of Thomas Kingo—situated, incidentally, near a sculpture of Søren Kierkegaard. One may debate Kierkegaard’s inclusion among great Danish church figures. Yet, there is little doubt that Kingo belongs to

Ibid. Ibid. 12 Ibid. 13 Andrew Burgess, “Kierkegaard, Brorson, and Moravian Music,” in Practice in Christianity, ed. by Robert L. perkins, Macon, Georgia: Mercer university press 2004 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 20), pp. 211–43; p. 218. 14 SKS 20, 290, NB4:6 / JP 5, 6097. 15 Kierkegaard also treasured Brorson, the principal hymnist of Danish pietism. For more on Kierkegaard’s relation to Brorson, see Marie Mikulová Thulstrup, Kierkegaard og Pietismen, Copenhagen: Munksgaard 1967 (Søren Kierkegaard Selskabets Populære Skrifter, vol. 12), pp. 15–17, not to mention the chapter on Brorson in the present volume. 16 Burgess, “Kierkegaard, Brorson, and Moravian Music,” p. 218. 10 11

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this pantheon. As will be seen, Kingo was a committed churchman, whose hymnody, in particular, was to ensure his lasting impact on Danish ecclesial life. Ironically, Kingo’s lineage was as much Scottish as Danish. His grandfather, Thomas, and father, Hans, were both from Scotland. But the family emigrated to Elsinore in northeastern zealand, where the elder found ample employment as a weaver of curtains and tapestries.17 Hans Kingo took up the same trade, but, after a move to Slangerup, he apparently met with less success than his father.18 Nevertheless, he and his wife, Karen, had many children, and he seems to have been an upright person. The only one of his sons to survive childhood, T.H. Kingo, later inscribed a poem on his father’s tombstone: “I had not the world’s gold, / now I own so much mold, / as this stone can attest. / My wealth was an honest name; / an eternal life in heaven, / with that I have everything.”19 Little else is known of T.H. Kingo’s childhood years, though it is clear his intellectual abilities were noticed from an early age. Kingo entered Slangerup’s Latin school in 1640, moved on to the Frederiksborg School in 1650, and entered the university of Copenhagen in 1654.20 It was a time of upheaval in the capital city and in the university. plague ravaged Copenhagen in 1654, wiping out nearly a fourth of the city’s population.21 Moreover, “crypto-Calvinist” and even Catholic factions threatened to undercut the strength of the then dominant “authentic Lutheranism,” which had been ensconced by the bishop and theologian, Hans poulsen Resen (1561– 1638), a few decades earlier.22 Resen had intended to fully unify Denmark under what he considered “the only true form of Christianity,”23 Lutheran Orthodoxy. Thus he capitalized on an effort begun in October 1536, when the Danish crown formally sided with Luther’s Reformation and gradually sought to normalize the kingdom’s religious life.24 As a student, Kingo seems to have sided with the established Resenian majority, for there is no evidence of him associating with opposition parties. As Johannes Simonsen puts it, “Kingo was not a revolutionary.”25 Kingo’s subsequent career bears out this claim. He completed his theological degree in 1658, worked as a house tutor for awhile, and, in 1661, took up his first clerical position, serving as a curate with the parish priest, Peder Worm, in Helsinge.26 From this point forward, Kingo steadily climbed the ladder of the ecclesial establishment. He preached for King Frederik III in 1663, became priest Johannes Simonsen, Thomas Kingo: Hofpoet og Salmedigter, Copenhagen: Frimodts Forlag 1970, p. 7. 18 Ibid., pp. 7–8. 19 Ibid., p. 8. 20 F.J. Billeskov Jansen, “Thomas Hansen Kingo,” in Dansk Biografisk Leksikon, vols. 1–27, ed. by povl Engelstoft, Copenhagen: Schultz Forlag 1933–44, vol. 12, pp. 449–58; p. 450. 21 Simonsen, Thomas Kingo, p. 14. 22 Ibid., pp. 14–15. 23 Martin Schwarz Lausten, Danmarks kirkehistorie, Copenhagen: Gyldendal 2004, p. 142. 24 Ibid., pp. 126ff. 25 Simonsen, Thomas Kingo, p. 17. 26 Billeskov Jansen, “Thomas Hansen Kingo,” p. 450. 17

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in his native Slangerup in 1668, and received his Magister degree in 1669.27 His literary talents—to this point exercised on poems of a lighthearted character—gave him a further boost. He penned a “big and grandiose” poem for the 1670 anointment of Christian v and sent a variety of “tribute poems to [Denmark’s] most powerful men.”28 In 1677 he was appointed bishop of Funen diocese, and, in the following years, he collected a number of honors, including the title “Doctor of Theology” in 1682.29 But Kingo did not aim to exploit the establishment. His rise was less a product of personal ambition than fidelity to “God and king.” Kingo was a “young, impressionable”30 man during the important years of 1660–65, a period in which “increasing discontent with the privileges and autonomy of the nobility” encouraged the Danish parliament to grant hereditary rights and absolute authority to the monarchy.31 In turn, the Danish church was placed under the direct government of the crown, which, according to the Lex regia of 1665, agreed to guide the church in harmony with the Augsburg Confession.32 Thus absolute monarchy (Enevælde) and Lutheran Orthodoxy were set in a reciprocal relationship. Capable, dedicated leaders now were needed to preserve both institutions. “Kingo was the sort of man the new regime wanted.”33 He was a loyalist with a variety of abilities. As bishop, he served in the manner of an “old-fashioned Lutheran,” who could be “severe” opposite nonconformist groups.34 He also was known as a “zealous administrator,” painstaking in his adherence to regulations.35 Such ardency, however, also came with benefits. Kingo made frequent visitations around his geographically large diocese, and, even in opposition to his superiors, he was not afraid to act as a “warm-hearted advocate” for persons in need.36 Still, it was Kingo’s literary talent and religious sensibility that proved most beneficial to the absolute monarchy and preserved his name for posterity. Vitus Bering once pronounced that Kingo had done more for his fatherland than either Dante or petrarch had done for theirs, since he alone had elevated Danish verse to the level of its European counterparts.37 Similarly, poul pedersen called Kingo “our Danish Homer.”38 Though lofty, such comparisons are not inapt, partly because Kingo had been influenced significantly by the Renaissance. He read a variety of late Renaissance and Baroque poets, including Guillaume de Salluste du Bartas, Giovanni Battista Guarini, william Shakespeare, John Milton, Christian Hoffmann Ibid. Ibid. 29 Ibid. 30 Ibid., p. 451. 31 Niels Thulstrup, Kierkegaard and the Church in Denmark, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1984 (Bibliotheca Kierkegaardiana, vol. 13), p. 12. 32 Ibid. 33 Billeskov Jansen, “Thomas Hansen Kingo,” p. 451. 34 Ibid. 35 Ibid., p. 453. 36 Ibid., pp. 453–4. 37 Ibid., p. 454. 38 Ibid., p. 455. 27 28

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von Hoffmannswaldau, Heinrich Mühlpfort, Anders Christensen Arrebo, and Rasmus Glad (better known as Erasmus Lætus).39 Also, like many of his humanist predecessors and contemporaries, Kingo admired virgil. He kept a collection of virgil’s works, wrote a few poems in Latin, and, in 1676, issued his own historical epic, “The Capture of Gulland.”40 The richness of Kingo’s resources suggest notable literary aspirations—aspirations that, in the views of some, are closer to pretensions. As F.J. Billeskov Jansen explains, Kingo’s language can approach “rash heights,” adopting “phrases and linguistic compositions that now are called high-flown or tasteless.”41 Kierkegaard, for one, did not disagree. He claimed that Kingo’s hymns are difficult to sing, because “the whole expression is too strong, the lyrics far too pretentious.”42 “Such hymns are read at home for one’s own upbuilding,”43 he added. Still, as Billeskov Jansen further argues, Kingo’s elevated language was typical of the Baroque era,44 a context in which he was considered one of Denmark’s finest writers. Already seen as a “poetic prince” by Danish élites,45 he fortified and enhanced his literary reputation with the Spiritual Choir of Songs46—a two-part collection of hymns especially written for devotion at home, so that persons might “pray not only for themselves, but for God’s church and for the king’s inheritance.”47 The Spiritual Choir made Kingo the nation’s leading hymnist and, in turn, an obvious choice to help reform Danish church services. Indeed, the absolute monarchy wanted to standardize and modernize ecclesial worship and, to that end, commissioned a new ritual, service book, hymnal, and gradual.48 In 1683, Kingo was put in charge of the gradual and the hymnbook. His instructions were “to compile and to organize a proper hymnal of the old, customary, and best church songs and hymns, and improve them with a section of your own.”49 He also was directed to follow the church year and to preserve “the meaning in Luther’s hymns.”50 Almost two decades passed before the new hymnal appeared. Kingo actually finished its first part in 1689, but a variety of legal concerns, not to mention some grumbling about the economic benefits reserved for the hymnist, delayed its release.51 Ibid. Ibid. 41 Ibid., pp. 454–5. 42 SKS 20, 290, NB4:6 / JP 5, 6097. 43 Ibid. 44 Billeskov Jansen, “Thomas Hansen Kingo,” p. 455. 45 Simonsen, Thomas Kingo, p. 51. 46 Thomas Kingos Aandelige Siunge-Koors. Første Part. Indeholdende 14. Gudelige Morgen-og Aften-Sange, tilligemed de 7 Kong Davids Poenitendse Psalmer sangviis forfattede, Copenhagen: Daniel Eichhorn 1674 and Thomas Kingos Aandelige Siunge-Koors. Anden Part eller Siælens Opvækkelse til Allerhaande Andagter i Allehaande Tilfælde. Alting til Guds Ære, Copenhagen: Daniel paulli 1681. 47 Simonsen, Thomas Kingo, p. 51. 48 Billeskov Jansen, “Thomas Hansen Kingo,” pp. 451–2. 49 Ibid., p. 452. 50 Ibid. 51 Ibid. 39 40

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The hymnal finally came out in 1699 and, officially, was entitled The Ordained New Church Hymnbook.52 However, it soon came to be known as “Kingo’s Hymnbook” (Kingos Salmebog), not only due to Kingo’s editorial work, but also because most of the new hymns were by Kingo himself. In fact, his hymns comprised almost a third of the total hymnbook.53 Kingo died in 1703, but, with his hymnal, he made an indelible mark on the Danish church. As Billeskov Jansen puts it, “No generation of Danish Christians has wholly been able to be apart from [his hymns].”54 But wherein lies his appeal? For Martin Schwarz Lausten, it has to do with the richness, the versatility, of Kingo’s hymnody: In grand fashion, he can describe nature’s beauty and grieve over the corruption of all things. A healthy joie de vivre and words about daily vocational performance stand side-by-side with penitential Christianity’s confession of sin, a condemnation of human nature, and with revivalistic proclamation—all written out of the personal experiences of a sensitive and vulnerable artistic mind.55

Billeskov Jansen echoes this sentiment. Kingo’s hymns, he says, are “of a great Christian, in whose soul went the storms of earthly life.”56 They exhibit a dialectical “type of piety,” oscillating between a “denial of life” on the one hand and an “affirmation of life” on the other.57 whereas his “secular” poetry draws on Antique, Renaissance, and Baroque sources, Kingo’s hymnody looks first and foremost to the Bible. Old Testament notions about God’s wrath are juxtaposed with vivid depictions of Christ’s redemptive suffering, so much so that he has become known as Denmark’s “Easter poet.”58 However, for Kingo, these are not just historical or dogmatic themes: “His basic characteristic is the ability, with his richly artistic and Christian soul, to enter into and give expression for a religious situation.”59 Thus talk about a rigid, formalistic, even “dead” orthodoxy hardly applies to Kingo. It is true that, politically and ecclesiastically, he was wedded to Lutheran Orthodoxy. But his work confounded the pietist charge that the dogmatic and ceremonial aspects of Orthodoxy inevitably come at the expense of Christian piety. On the other hand, it also could be argued that Kingo’s otherwise unimpeachable orthodoxy allowed him to introduce pietist elements into his writings. Lausten calls Thomas Kingo, Dend Forordnede Ny Kirke-Psalme-Bog. Efter Hans Kongl. Mayest. Allernaadigste befalning af de fornemste Geistlige i Kiøbenhafn til Guds Tieniste paa Søndagene Fæsterne Bededagene og til anden Gudelig brug i Kircken udi Danmark og Norge af Gamle Aanderige Sange Ordentlig indrettet og Flitteligen igiennemseet og med mange Ny Psalmer forbedret og iligemaader efter Kongl. befalning til Trykken befodret af Thomas Kingo D. Biskop udi i Fyens Stift, Odense: Christian Skrøder 1699. 53 Billeskov Jansen, “Thomas Hansen Kingo,” p. 452. To be exact, 85 of the hymnal’s 301 hymns were by Kingo. 54 Ibid., p. 453. 55 Lausten, Danmarks kirkehistorie, p. 168. 56 Billeskov Jansen, “Thomas Hansen Kingo,” p. 457. 57 Ibid. 58 Burgess, “Kierkegaard, Brorson, and Moravian Music,” p. 218. 59 Billeskov Jansen, “Thomas Hansen Kingo,” p. 457. 52

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him a “transitional figure between Orthodoxy and Pietism,”60 and Carsten BachNielsen writes that, like the pietists, “Kingo was greatly indebted to [Johann] Arndt and...medieval, Taulerian mysticism.”61 Indeed, Kingo penned the preface to Samuel Jensen Ild’s 1690 Danish translation62 of Arndt’s Four Books of True Christianity,63 a translation that included the controversial third book and its development of the thought of the medieval mystic, Johannes Tauler.64 Kingo’s relationship with Pietist sources such as Tauler and Arndt is significant, for it helps explain how he remained popular up to Kierkegaard’s day. In the first decades after Kingo’s death, pietism gradually supplanted Orthodoxy within the Danish church. This change was brought to fruition during the reign of Christian vI, who, from the early 1730s, sponsored pietist reforms in the established church.65 This period as such posed little threat to Kingo’s legacy. However, following Christian vI’s death in 1746, there was a general backlash against pietist severity. Clergy migrated toward rationalism and, by around 1760, pietism had all but vanished from the state church.66 It was a time that celebrated the Enlightenment’s arrival in Denmark. Toward the end of the century, a number of “radical” teachers rose to prominence. They argued that Christianity’s utility lay in its moral instruction and inculcation of civic virtue, rather than in its traditional “revealed” doctrines.67 In response to such criticism, Nicolai Edinger Balle (1744–1816), bishop of zealand, conceded that the age necessitated ecclesial reforms. In 1791, he issued a new, more rationalistic catechism, Textbook in the Evangelical-Christian Religion.68 Likewise, in 1798, he secured the replacement of Kingo’s hymnal with the “sharply rationalistic”69 Evangelical-Christian Hymnbook.70 It contained only 18 Kingo hymns. A mixed reaction greeted Balle’s changes. Members of the bourgeoisie applauded his ethical intent, but groups of lay pietists felt that he had moved the church too far away from “true” Christianity. Nurtured by itinerant emissaries from the Jutland town of Christiansfeld—the Danish headquarters of Nikolaus Ludwig Graf von zinzendorf’s (1700–60) Moravian pietism—these laypersons were skeptical of the Enlightenment and its criticisms of religion. Their sympathies remained with the Lausten, Danmarks kirkehistorie, p. 168. Carsten Bach-Nielsen, Kingo CCC: Studier udgivet i 300-året for salmedigterens død, Copenhagen: Forlaget ANIS 2003, p. 7. 62 Johan Arndt, Lyset i Mørket, eller fire Bøger om den Sande Christendom, trans. by Samuel Jensen Ild, Copenhagen: Bockenhoffer 1703. 63 Johann Arndt, Vier Bücher Von wahrem Christenthumb, Heilsamer Busse, Hertzlicher Rewe vnnd Leid vber die Sünde vnd wahrem Glauben: Auch heiligem Leben vnd Wandel der rechten wahren Christen, revised ed., vols. 1–4, Magdeburg: bey Johan Francken 1610–15. 64 Bach-Nielsen, Kingo CCC, p. 68. 65 Lausten, Danmarks kirkehistorie, pp. 183–6. 66 Ibid., p. 192. 67 Ibid., pp. 199ff. 68 Nicolai Edinger Balle, Lærebog i den evangelisk-christelige Religion indrettet til Brug i de danske Skoler, Copenhagen: Schultz 1791. 69 Billeskov Jansen, “Thomas Hansen Kingo,” p. 453. 70 Nicolai Edinger Balle, Evangelisk-christelig Psalmebog samlet af et Selskab og udgivet som et Forsøg, Copenhagen: Johan Frederik Schultz 1793–95. 60 61

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“older” Christianity of Luther, Arndt, and Kingo. In the East Jutland region between vejle and Horsens, not far north of Christiansfeld, persons known as “the strong Jutlanders” (de stærke Jyder) refused to acknowledge both Balle’s catechism and the new hymnal.71 In some cases, their protest lasted for generations: the congregants in East Snede used the Kingo hymnal until 1966!72 Kierkegaard’s own appreciation of Kingo almost certainly stems from this development. His father, Michael pedersen Kierkegaard (1756–1838), grew up in the west Jutland village of Sædding, where a number of local priests and Moravian emissaries fostered a pietist revival.73 It was, as Jørgen Bukdahl explains, a place where the traditional hymns of Kingo and Brorson were cherished, and Erik pontoppidan’s pietist catechism74 followed rigorously.75 Despite relocating to Copenhagen around 1768, M.P. Kierkegaard never abandoned this sort of Christianity. He affiliated himself with pietist priests such as Hans Sørensen Lemming (1707–88) and peter Saxtorph (1730–1803) of Nicolai Church,76 and, in the last decades of his life, he became one of the leaders of Copenhagen’s Moravian society (Brødresocietet), whose Sunday evening meetings attracted hundreds and hundreds of persons during the 1820s.77 Often accompanying Michael pedersen to these gatherings were his sons, peter Christian Kierkegaard and, of course, Søren Aabye. Thus they were participants in the capital city’s “stronghold of those who opposed the rational Enlightenment Christianity which predominated in the official State Church,”78 indeed, Copenhagen’s version of the “strong Jutlanders.” And yet, if Kierkegaard acquired a taste for Kingo during his youth, his interest did not end there. As will be seen, references to Kingo appear in a number of Kierkegaard’s journal entries and published writings. The next section will explore these references. Moreover, it will work to ascertain the kind of influence Kingo had on Kierkegaard.

Lausten, Danmarks kirkehistorie, p. 209. Ibid., p. 212. 73 Anders pontoppidan Thyssen, De ældre jyske vækkelser: Brødremenigheden i Christiansfeld og herrnhutismen i Jylland til o. 1815, Copenhagen: Gads Forlag 1967 (Vækkelsernes Frembrud i Danmark i første Halvdel af det 19. Århundrede, vol. 4), p. 18. 74 Erik pontoppidan, Sandhed til Gudfrygtighed, Copenhagen: waysenhuses Bogtrykkerie 1737. 75 Jørgen Bukdahl, Søren Kierkegaard: Hans Fader og Slægten i Sædding, Ribe: Dansk Hjemstavns Forlag 1960, pp. 18–19. 76 peter Tudvad, Kierkegaards København, Copenhagen: politikens Forlag 2006, p. 396. 77 Kaj Baagø, Vækkelse og Kirkeliv i København og Omegn, Copenhagen: Gads Forlag 1960 (Vækkelsernes Frembrud i Danmark i første Halvdel af det 19. Århundrede, vol. 1), pp. 20–4. 78 Bruce Kirmmse, Kierkegaard in Golden Age Denmark, Bloomington, Indiana: Indiana university press 1990, p. 34. 71 72

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II. It already has been pointed out that Kierkegaard did not read Kingo indifferently. In his view, Kingo’s hymns were worthy of memorization79 and valuable for personal upbuilding, although they lacked the pith and simplicity needed for public worship. Kierkegaard reiterates this latter charge in an 1846 journal entry, where he avers that Kingo’s hymns fail to capture “the brief, simple gospel narrative.”80 However, for the most part, Kierkegaard praised Kingo. In an 1836 passage, he places Kingo alongside other “very great individuals” such as Johann wolfgang von Goethe, Johann Gottfried Herder, and Friedrich Daniel Ernst Schleiermacher.81 Similarly, in what appears to be an early draft for Either/Or’s “ultimatum,” Kierkegaard refers to Kingo as a “saintly person,” who issues pronouncements with “authority.”82 Thus it is clear that Kierkegaard’s criticisms of Kingo did not eradicate his larger respect for him. But what, exactly, attracted Kierkegaard to Kingo? What did he find in Kingo’s hymnody that merited such esteem? Kierkegaard does not provide a direct answer to these questions. Nevertheless, his authorial references to Kingo— while not bountiful in number—suggest that he saw Kingo as a faithful and inspired communicator of some key Christian themes. The most conspicuous of these references is found in the fourth part of Christian Discourses, entitled “Discourses at the Communion on Fridays.”83 This part contains seven discourses in all, each of which is based on a particular biblical pericope. The Kingo reference occurs at the end of the third discourse, which is a meditation on John 10:27: “My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me.” One of the main themes of this discourse is the quietness of the Friday Communion service. whereas Sunday services are crowded with persons who are keeping Sabbath or simply following social convention, only “a little group” attends on Friday.84 These persons have come “because each individual of those present must have especially felt, even though in different ways, the need to resort to this place One of Kierkegaard’s most famous journal entries (SKS 17, 254, DD:113 / KJN 1, 245–6) might be seen as an indicator of this memorization. The May 1838 entry, which relates a conversion-like experience of “indescribable joy,” casually quotes from the nightwatchmen’s song—a song adapted by Kingo and found in Psalmer og aandelige Sange af Thomas Kingo, ed. by p.A. Fenger, Copenhagen: den wahlske Boghandel 1827, p. 520. Kierkegaard neither mentions nor alludes to Kingo in this passage, but simply uses the song to underline the depth of his happiness: “Not a joy over this or that, but the soul’s full outcry ‘with tongue and mouth and from the bottom of my heart.’ ” This Kingo phrase also appears in Kierkegaard’s preface to the pseudonymous From the Papers of One Still Living (SKS 1, 9 / EPW, 55), a book that, notably, was written between May and August 1838 and published on September 7 of that same year. This coincidence is probably accidental—the citations are used in different contexts—but it does seem to verify that Kierkegaard could recall Kingo in spontaneous fashion. 80 SKS 18, 303, JJ:491 / KJN 2, 279. 81 Pap. I A 121 / JP 4, 4386. 82 SKS 18, 132, HH:13 / KJN 2, 124. 83 This was Kierkegaard’s first set of Communion discourses. He was to pen additional sets in 1849 and in 1851. 84 SKS 10, 288 / CD, 269. 79

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precisely today.”85 In this way, they have grasped an important point: “Today is not a holy day; today there is divine service on a weekday—oh, but a Christian’s life is a divine service every day!”86 And yet, Kierkegaard adds, the mere act of attending the Friday Communion does not mean that one understands this point, for the real “task is to remain at the Communion table when you leave the Communion table.”87 In other words, one has to “remember that the event is not finished,” that the “good work” of the Friday Communion looks forward to future days and, finally, to the person’s beatitude.88 with this appeal in mind, he closes the discourse with a few lines from Kingo: pass on, O day, that never more My eyes in time will see. Fall into sleep by night surrounded! I pass ahead to heaven bright, My God to see, eternal light. On that my faith is founded!89

This stanza does not add to the content of Kierkegaard’s discourse. Rather, it poetically reiterates Kierkegaard’s exhortation to remember the passage of time and the goal of Christian existence. Thus it stands as an early example of an idea that Kierkegaard was to experiment with further—namely, concluding discourses with his favorite hymns. As he writes in an 1849 journal entry, “It could be rhetorically beautiful and moving to end a discourse, as is frequently done, with a verse from an old hymn....”90 Although less prominent, other references to Kingo function similarly in Kierkegaard’s writings. They serve as poetic illustrations or recapitulations of a few themes: (1) the corruption of the world, (2) God as comforter, (3) God as master, and (4) the example of Christ. In turn, they suggest that Kierkegaard saw Kingo as an authoritative figure, whose hymnody both anticipated and lent credence to his own ideas. The first theme turns up in three places. The abovementioned 1840–41 journal entry, which refers to Kingo as a “saintly person,” cites the second part of Kingo’s Spiritual Choir of Songs—in particular, the eighth stanza of the fourth song:

Ibid. SKS 10, 292 / CD, 274. 87 Ibid. 88 Ibid. 89 Ibid. A couple of drafts for this discourse also mention Kingo. See Pap. vIII–2 B 108 and Pap. vIII–2 B 127. 90 SKS 21, 231, NB9:53 / JP 6, 6315. 85 86

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There is no ground in act and word on which we now can build every heart is a snare every vow is dung every rogue like a child every promise like a shadow.91

Kierkegaard again quotes this stanza in Three Upbuilding Discourses from 1843.92 In neither case does he repudiate Kingo’s words. In fact, his third use of the “corruption motif” in Kingo expressly agrees that, although the “world’s honor...is prinked up to look so fair,”93 it actually is a hindrance to spiritual progress. At the same time, however, Kierkegaard attempts to find something upbuilding in Kingo’s gloomy observation. The world is not simply a bad place, for, if it were, it would be bereft of God, of freedom, and of love. But the world’s corruption cannot “put [these] to rest.”94 Thus one is free to enter into a relationship with God, wherein one “will find the world to be much better, for then [one] will not seek in the world or demand of it what it cannot give—then [one oneself] will be able to comfort and reassure others.”95 As Kierkegaard later explains in Three Upbuilding Discourses (1843),96 this is the task of love, which does not look for “deceit and delusion and disloyalty and scheming,” but rather “keeps its eye on the Lord.”97 In short, “there is a power of this world that in its language translates good into evil, but there is a power from above that translates evil into good.”98 Here Kierkegaard may seem to be criticizing Kingo, but, as he well knew, Kingo’s hymns move in a similar direction. For example, in the stanza immediately following the one quoted above, Kingo starts, “For you, for you / I cry out, / Faithful God and Lord.”99 Neither writer, then, ascribes finality to the world’s corruption: sin is a reality that can be overcome when persons call on and participate in the love of God. This conclusion segues into the other Kingo themes appropriated by Kierkegaard. The first one concerns God as a source of comfort. As Kierkegaard writes in an 1839 journal entry:

SKS 18, 132, HH:13 / KJN 2, 124. Also see Thomas Kingo, Digtning i udvalg, ed. by Marita Akhøj Nielsen, Copenhagen: Borgens Forlag 1995 (Danske Klassikere), p. 206. 92 SKS 5, 70 / EUD, 61. 93 SKS 5, 152 / EUD, 151. The reference is to the second stanza of Kingo’s well-known hymn, “Bye, world, Goodbye.” See Kingo, Digtning i udvalg, ed. by Marita Akhøj Nielsen, p. 233. 94 SKS 18, 132, HH:13 / KJN 2, 124. 95 Ibid. 96 Specifically, the first of the two discourses bearing the title, “Love Will Hide a Multitude of Sins.” 97 SKS 5, 70–1 / EUD, 61. 98 SKS 5, 71 / EUD, 61. 99 Kingo, Digtning i udvalg, ed. by Marita Akhøj Nielsen, p. 206. 91

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Kierkegaard passed on Kingo’s insight to his sister-in-law, Sophie Henriette [“Jette”] Glahn Kierkegaard, who suffered from chronic illness. In a letter from September 1847, Kierkegaard notes that human sympathy tends to misunderstand physical suffering: it spends so much energy trying to diagnose and to cure the problem that it creates psychological pain. Thus the patient not only has to struggle with his or her sickness, but also has “to endure the impatience of sympathy.”102 Yet, this circumstance can lead to a blessing. It offers “the opportunity to realize the truth that the God of patience verily is He who can persist completely unconditionally in caring about a human being with the same eternal unchanged compassion.”103 At this point Kierkegaard invokes Kingo: “As the old hymn so movingly asks, ‘If every hour I weep and ask,’ that is, whence help and comfort will come—so movingly does the poet himself reply, ‘But God indeed still lives.’ ”104 Here Kierkegaard, quite concretely, appeals to Kingo as a source of upbuilding. Moreover, he seems to have been impressed by Kingo’s juxtaposition of human frailty and divine immutability, for he was to return to it in works such as The Changelessness of God from 1855.105 Kierkegaard also makes note of the “God as master” theme in Kingo—a theme that complements the motif of God’s comfort, since both express the “infinite qualitative difference” between God and humanity. Kierkegaard suggests this point in the third discourse of “The Gospel of Sufferings,” “The Joy of It That the School of Sufferings Educates for Eternity.” Just as suffering “[weans] one from the world and the things of the world”106 and thereby teaches one to seek comfort in God, so it

The citation also comes from the second part of the Spiritual Choir of Songs—namely, from the “Sigh of the Heart” following the twelfth song. See Kingo, Digtning i udvalg, ed. by Marita Akhøj Nielsen, p. 243 (lines 57 and 58). 101 SKS 18, 54, EE:154 / KJN 2, 49. 102 B&A, vol. 1, p. 180 / LD, Letter 161, p. 227. 103 Ibid. 104 Ibid. The citation is from “Now the Sun Rises up” (stanza 10), the sixth “Morning Song” from part 1 of Kingo’s Spiritual Choir of Songs. See Kingo, Digtning i udvalg, ed. by Marita Akhøj Nielsen, p. 116. 105 Consider the following quotation (SV1 XIv, 292 / M, 278) from The Changelessness of God: “[I]t is also the case that there is reassurance and blessedness in this thought. It is really so that when you, weary from all this human, all this temporal and earthly changefulness and alteration, weary of your own instability, could wish for a place where you could rest your weary head, your weary thoughts, your weary mind, in order to rest, to have a good rest—ah, in God’s changelessness there is rest!” 106 SKS 8, 356 / UD, 257. 100

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also teaches an even more basic lesson—that one is to submit to God. As Kierkegaard explains: [B]y learning obedience in the school of sufferings—[one] learns to let God be master, to let God rule. But what is all eternal truth except this: that God rules; and what is obedience except this: to let God rule; and what other connection and harmony are possible between the temporal and the eternal than this—that God rules and to let God rule!107

A journal note108 connects this observation to “Kingo’s hymnbook,” which, as has been seen, was popular among Danish pietists. In particular, it is a reference to a Good Friday hymn about “Christ’s crucifixion, torment and death.”109 For Kierkegaard, this is an apposite connection. The disciple is to let God rule, because Christ himself was obedient in his very willingness to take on mortal flesh. As Kierkegaard continues, “[Christ] abased himself and became obedient. But to be a human being is indeed his abasement; therefore, for a human being in his relation to God it holds true that obedience is learned only from sufferings.”110 Kierkegaard’s association of these Kingo themes with the person of Christ is significant. It points to a shared concern between the two writers. As discussed above, Kingo was sympathetic toward the great Lutheran upbuilding writer, Johann Arndt. And, reminiscent of works such as Arndt’s True Christianity, “Kingo’s hymnbook” offers a number of renderings of Christ’s passion.111 One Lenten hymn urges people to sing “about [Jesus’] cross, his blood and sweat,”112 while another vividly reproduces Christ’s torment: “See where the thorns cut him! / See where the blood is drawn out! / See how his eyes flow! / See where he is without skin! / See where he stands in agony!”113 Further, Kingo does not treat Christ’s passion as a simple intellectual matter, but, rather, as a pattern for discipleship. Christ’s follower is to “willingly take up the cross.”114 It is a “burden” that he or she will have to bear.115 After all, “[p]overty, imprisonment, distress, and misery” ever threaten the Christian, who, accordingly, turns to God with a lone prayer: “Only grant me that when I am to bear / The cross’ burden that I then / can remain patiently in you, / And never fall away from you!”116 Kierkegaard was well aware of this Kingo theme, too. In Works of Love, he argues that the love of Christ exemplifies how to “hide the multitude of sins,” and, in doing so, he cites one of Kingo’s passion hymns: [Christ] is the prototype; the one who loves has learned from him when he discovers nothing and in this way hides the multitude of sins, when he as a worthy follower, 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116

Ibid. Pap. vII–1 B 181, 6. Kingo, Digtning i udvalg, ed. by Marita Akhøj Nielsen, p. 375. SKS 8, 360 / UD, 263. Kingo, Digtning i udvalg, ed. by Marita Akhøj Nielsen, pp. 321ff. Ibid., p. 323. Ibid., p. 367. Ibid., p. 374. Ibid., p. 375. Ibid.

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Christopher B. Barnett “forsaken, despised, bearing his cross,”117 walks between mockery and pity, between derision and wails of woe, and yet lovingly discovers nothing—truly more wondrous than when the three men walked unscathed in the fiery furnace.118

That Kierkegaard here draws on Kingo indicates that he associated the hymnist with the theme of imitatio Christi—a theme that Kierkegaard was familiar with through his pietist upbringing and through his own interest in Erbauungsliteratur.119 It is wellknown (and not a little controversial)120 that Kierkegaard himself came to emphasize the imitatio motif in his later writings. And while his relation to Kingo, in and of itself, does not settle the various issues raised by this “turn,” it does help situate Kierkegaard within a larger tradition, which not only goes back to the Bible itself,121 but finds remarkable stress in the edificatory literature of medieval monastics and post-Reformation figures such as Kingo. In short, Kierkegaard did not stress the imitation of Christ arbitrarily. He adopted it from certain key predecessors, among whom Kingo was not the least. Earlier it was noted that Kierkegaard claimed to know Kingo’s hymns by heart. The task of this article has been to explore that claim, to find out why Kierkegaard so devoted himself to Kingo’s hymnody. It has been seen that Kingo was a talented poet, whose works testify to a Christian vision centered on existential humility, divine otherness and love, Christ’s suffering, and, finally, the “Christlikeness” of discipleship. These were the traits that Kierkegaard valued in Kingo. In his estimation, Kingo was an outstanding upbuilding writer—indeed, one might add, the kind of writer Kierkegaard himself strove to be.

The quotation is from Kingo’s “Go Stand under the Cross of Jesus.” See Psalmer og aandelige Sange af Thomas Kingo, ed. by p.A. Fenger, p. 179. 118 SKS 9, 286 / WL, 288. 119 See, for example, Cappelørn, “Kierkegaard som bogkøber og bogsamler,” pp. 135–7. 120 A particularly pointed critique has been made by Marie Mikulová Thulstrup. See her “Kierkegaard’s Dialectic of Imitation,” in A Kierkegaard Critique: An International Selection of Essays Interpreting Kierkegaard, ed. by Howard A. Johnson and Niels Thulstrup, New York: Harper and Brothers 1962, pp. 266–85. For a more positive appraisal, see, for example, Bradley R. Dewey, The New Obedience: Kierkegaard on Imitating Christ, washington: Corpus 1968. 121 For an analysis of the imitatio motif’s biblical roots, see, for example, E.J. Tinsley, The Imitation of God in Christ: An Essay on the Biblical Basis of Christian Spirituality, London: SCM press 1960. 117

Bibliography I. Kingo’s Works in The Auction Catalogue of Kierkegaard’s Library Psalmer og aandelige Sange af Thomas Kingo, collected and ed. by p.A. Fenger, Copenhagen: den wahlske Boghandel 1827 (ASKB 203; cf. also ASKB A I 91). Den Forordnede Kirke-Psalme-Bog med hosføyede Collecter, Epistler og Evangelier, og Jesu Christi Lidelses Historie, Copenhagen: N.T. Ditlewsen 1833 (ASKB 204). Psalmer og aandelige Sange af Thomas Kingo, collected and ed. by p.A. Fenger, Copenhagen: den wahlske Boghandel 1827 (ASKB A I 91; cf. also ASKB 203). II. Works in The Auction Catalogue of Kierkegaard’s Library that Discuss Kingo Mynster, Jakob peter, Blandede Skrivter, vols. 1–3, Copenhagen: Gyldendal 1852– 53 [vols. 4–6, Copenhagen: Gyldendal 1855–57], vol. 3, pp. 18–19 (ASKB 358–363). Rudelbach, Andreas G., Om Psalme-Literaturen og Psalmebogs-Sagen, HistoriskKritiske Undersøgelser, vol. 1, Copenhagen: C.G. Iversen 1854, pp. 322–34 passim; p. 385; pp. 481–2 ; pp. 497ff.; p. 503 [vol. 2, 1856] (ASKB 193). Thortsen, Carl Adolph, Historisk Udsigt over den Danske Litteratur indtil Aar 1814, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1839, pp. 41–2 (ASKB 970). III. Secondary Literature on Kierkegaard’s Relation to Kingo None.

Martin Luther: Reform, Secularization, and the Question of His “True Successor” David Yoon-Jung Kim and Joel D.S. Rasmussen

On April 17, 1521, a controversial monk and professor of scripture from the university of wittenberg appeared before Emperor Charles v at the imperial diet in worms. Condemned for heresy in the previous year by the papal Bull, Exsurge Domine, and now facing the more consequential ban of empire, Martin Luther (1483–1546) was given one last opportunity to recant his alleged errors before the princely leaders of the Holy Roman Empire. After confirming a list of works attributed to him, Luther was commanded to respond yes or no to the question: “Will you then recant?” He instead asked for time to pray and think. On the next day Luther gave his famous “Here I stand” speech, in which he insisted that to recant would only add strength to papal tyranny. He is reported to have concluded his speech with these famous words: unless I am convinced by the testimony of Scripture or by clear reason, for I do not trust either in the pope or in councils alone, since it is well known that they have often erred and contradicted themselves, I am bound by the Scriptures I have quoted and my conscience is captive to the word of God. I cannot and will not retract anything, for it is neither safe nor right to go against conscience.1

Luther’s courageous stand at worms left a deep impression on almost everyone gathered for the diet, and notable among them was the young duke of SchleswigHolstein who would soon be crowned King Christian III of Denmark (1503–59). In 1536 Christian III, just victorious in a civil war,2 established the Lutheran state Martin Luther, Career of the Reformer II, vol. 32 in Luther’s Works, vols. 1–55, ed. by Jaroslav pelikan, Helmut T. Lehmann, Hilton C. Oswald et al., St. Louis: Concordia publishing House 1955–86 (abbreviated Luther’s Works), pp. 112–13. The words “Here I stand; I can do no other” are now widely believed to have been inserted by Georg Rörer, the first editor of Luther’s collected works. Accordingly, Diarmaid MacCulloch describes the momentous ending to this speech as the “most memorable thing Luther never said” (Diarmaid MacCulloch, The Reformation, New York: viking 2003, p. 127). 2 Although bundled with various social and political issues, the civil war (Grevens Fejde, 1534–36) was partly instigated by Catholic opposition to the election of the Lutheran Duke (Christian III) to the throne. See Ole peter Grell, “Scandinavia,” in The Early Reformation in

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church in Denmark, then invited Luther, Melanchthon, or anyone of their designation to come to Copenhagen to draft the ordinances for its institutionalization.3 Three centuries later Søren Kierkegaard would look back on these events with deep ambivalence. On the one hand, Kierkegaard envisioned his own work as a writer in terms of Luther’s personal legacy. “Just as Luther stepped forward with only the Bible at the Diet of worms, so I would like to step forward with only the New Testament, take the simplest Christian maxim, and ask each individual: Have you fulfilled this even approximately—if not, do you then want to reform the Church?”4 On the other hand, Kierkegaard bemoaned the historical fruits of Luther’s Reformation, especially toward the latter stages of his authorship. He perceived a grave danger whenever “state and Church grow together and are identified.”5 while magisterial reformers like Luther helped to remove the institutional and ideological restraints of the medieval church, their own program entailed an equally problematic confusion of religion for national politics and national politics for religion such that “Christianity and state have been merged.”6 In short, the genealogical roots of Christendom, as Kierkegaard found it in Denmark, had to be traced back to the accommodations of the Lutheran Reformation. “The future,” Kierkegaard thus foretold, “will correspond inversely to the Reformation: then everything appeared to be a religious movement and became politics; now everything appears to be politics and will become a religious movement.”7 Tantalizing as Kierkegaard’s prediction here is, our question in this article is not whether his forecast proved accurate, but rather with the extent to which Kierkegaard’s understanding of Luther and Lutheranism shaped his own self-understanding. In this article, therefore, we analyze Kierkegaard’s reception of Luther through an examination of Kierkegaard’s published and unpublished writings, and explicate the respects in which—in a certain sense, and despite his perception of the need for an “inverse correspondence” with the Reformation—Kierkegaard viewed himself in the role of Luther’s “true successor.”8

Europe, ed. by Andrew pettegree, Cambridge: Cambridge university press 1992, pp. 94–119, see p. 98; p. 111. 3 The task of drafting the ordinances fell to Luther’s friend and colleague, Johann Bugenhagen. As the first sovereign state to make the Lutheran faith the official state confession, Denmark has the longest history of Erastianism in Europe. See Thorkild Lyby and Ole peter Grell, “The Consolidation of Lutheranism in Denmark and Norway,” in The Scandinavian Reformation, ed. by Ole peter Grell, Cambridge: Cambridge university press 1995, pp. 114–43, see p. 115. 4 SKS 24, 221, NB23:33 / JP 6, 6727. 5 SKS 22, 153, NB12:13 / JP 1, 593. 6 SV1 XIv, 153 / M, 143. 7 Pap. IX B 63:7 / JP 6, 6255. See also Pap. X–6 B 40 / JP 6, 6256. SKS 25, 236, NB28:26 / JP 4, 4220. SKS 24, 144–5, NB22:80 / JP 3, 3686. 8 SKS 23, 323, NB18:101 / JP 3, 2518.

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I. A Brief Outline of Luther’s Dialectical Theology in the Age of Reform Few individuals have had a greater impact on European history than Martin Luther. The age of the Reformation, which he helped to usher in, began with a relatively academic, though symbolically potent, dispute over the sale of indulgences but gradually grew into a battle over religious authority that was to have far-ranging consequences. Luther was not the first theologian to express concern over abuses of the indulgence system, nor did the circulation of The Ninety-Five Theses in 1517 constitute a call to revolution.9 Nevertheless, the image of a defiant Luther standing against the church hierarchy quickly spread throughout Germany, helped in part by the circulation of the theses and his subsequent works in both vernacular and Latin print.10 with his provocations drawing increasing notoriety, representatives of Rome turned the matter into a question of (Luther’s obedience to) papal authority, inciting Luther to reexamine and eventually undercut the traditional pillars on which papal authority rested—the claim of papal pre-eminence by divine right, the infallibility of the pope and church councils, and the precedents of canon law and scholastic theology.11 The period from 1517 until 1522, when Luther returned to wittenberg after appearing before the Diet of worms, were critical years for the young reformer. Not only did Luther date his Reformation breakthrough—his so-called “tower experience”—to 1518, but he also wrote some of his most important works between 1520 and 1521.12 Foremost among these are the great Reformation treatises of 1520, which were to become the defining works of the entire Reformation movement. His Address to the Christian Nobility of the German Nation called upon secular authorities to join the cause of reform and argued that all Christians have the right to interpret scripture based on the biblical concept of the spiritual priesthood of all believers, adding that the power to “test and judge what is right or wrong in matters of faith” did not belong exclusively to the clerical estate.13 The Babylonian MacCulloch, The Reformation, pp. 119–21. For an informative study of the respects in which the Reformation was greatly helped by the interaction between the emergent technology of communication (the printing press) and the rise of vernacular languages in Europe, see Mark u. Edwards, Jr., Printing, Propaganda, and Martin Luther, Berkeley: university of California press 1994. 11 Although the doctrine of papal infallibility did not receive dogmatic definition by the Roman Catholic Church until 1870, discussion of papal infallibility in matters of faith and morals dates to the Middle Ages. Luther’s challenges prompted the papal hierarchy to initiate a series of proceedings—the Heidelberg Disputations (April 1518), the Diet of Augsburg (October 1518), and the Leipzig debates (June–July 1519)—to rein in the rebellious monk. 12 As Scott Hendrix sketches Luther’s career, “the distinctive Reformation themes of Luther’s theology were forged during this early period” and then “honed by the demands and disputes” of the middle (1522–30) and later periods (1530 until his death in 1546). Scott Hendrix, “Luther,” in The Cambridge Companion to Reformation Theology, ed. by David Bagchi and David C. Steinmetz, Cambridge: Cambridge university press 2004, pp. 39–56, see p. 39. 13 Luther, Address to the Christian Nobility of the German Nation, in Luther’s Works, vol. 44, p. 135. 9

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Captivity of the Church redefined and reduced the number of sacraments to two (baptism and the Lord’s Supper) in light of biblical teachings. And The Freedom of a Christian articulated Luther’s central doctrine of justification by faith and characterized Christian life in terms of a correspondence between faith and love, grace and works. This third work (along with the Treatise on Good Works, also of 1520) demonstrates that Luther from very early on worried about the possibility of antinomian interpretations of the New Testament. Here Luther insists that faith gives rise to good works, and thus should not be misconstrued in terms of a simple opposition that precludes works. A second set of works dates to his ten-month interlude at the wartburg, where Luther remained in protective custody of Frederick the wise after being declared an outlaw by the imperial diet at worms until his return to wittenberg.14 Locked up in relative isolation at the wartburg, Luther turned his attention primarily to studying, interpreting, and translating the Bible.15 The most significant fruit of Luther’s labors at the Wartburg is his translation of the New Testament, the first German version based on the Greek original since Wulfila. Also significant, however (especially for Kierkegaard’s reception of Luther) was Luther’s composition of the Church Postil (Kirchenpostille), a collection of model sermons or sermon aids for preachers who wanted to incorporate Lutheran reform into their parish life.16 These postils were the practical companion to the new German translation of the New Testament. Both were anticipated by his earlier pronouncements on scripture being the sole source of religious authority; the Bible needed to be readily available in the vernacular, and these postils were to educate ministers whose job it was to proclaim the gospel to the church at large. Although written for the practical guidance of the evangelical clergy more than for theological disputation, these postils contain many of the same

At the close of the Diet of worms Luther was formally declared an outlaw. He began a return trip to wittenberg, but Frederick the wise, Elector of Saxony and Luther’s advocate who had earlier negotiated his safe-conduct at the diet, staged a kidnapping and had him brought to his castle, the wartburg, where Luther remained in “exile” for the next ten months. 15 Luther was encouraged by Frederick the wise to make use of his time at the wartburg by turning away from the “quarrelsome, sharp, and entangling writings” that had so preoccupied him in recent years in order to produce the tools needed to further evangelical reform. Luther refers to them as the “works of peace,” in contrast to his earlier polemical tracts. See Martin Luther, “Dedication to Frederick, the Elector,” in Sermons of Martin Luther, vols. 1–8, ed. by John Nicholas Lenker, Grand Rapids, Michigan: Baker Book House 1983, vol. 1, p. 9. 16 Luther’s Church Postil (Kirchenpostille) is also referred to as the Wartburg Postil (Wartburgspostille). The term postil is derived from the Latin postilla (“exposition”) which in turn is derived from the customary phrase that began sermonic exposition post illa verba sacrae scripturae (“according to these words of Sacred Scripture”). It was a popular genre for Biblical exposition in early sixteenth century. See John w. Doberstein’s “Introduction to volume 51” (Sermons I) and Hans J. Hillerbrand’s “Introduction to volume 52” (Sermons II) of Luther’s Works. while these volumes of Luther’s Works include selections from Luther’s postils and preached sermons, they do not contain the whole of the Church Postil and House Postil. A reprint of Lenker’s translation of the Church Postil and House Postil (originally issued 1904–09) is available in eight volumes in Sermons of Martin Luther. 14

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theological motifs and arguments presented in the more famous treatises from the previous year. It is clear that Luther in the early years neither intended nor foresaw that his disagreements with Rome would escalate into the permanent breakup of western Christendom; his initial program sought to reform the universal church, not to oversee its fragmentation. Still, the dissemination of his ideas helped to galvanize opposition against Rome—with support coming from many disciplines and social strata— toward the consolidation of a mass movement around teachings like justification by faith, the sole authority of Scripture in matters of faith, liberty of conscience, and the priesthood of all believers. why these early controversies should have set off a revolution of such force and wide-ranging proportions remains a central, if not programmatic, question for evaluating Luther’s legacy and for understanding the Reformation as a whole. Historians sometimes characterize the age of reform in terms of a “confluence” or “surge” of intellectual, sociopolitical, and spiritual currents that made Luther’s message both pertinent and timely.17 But the complexity of the historical moment has meant that various, and sometimes competing, images of Luther have emerged depending on which elements of history interpreters choose to bring into focus. For example, when attention focuses on intellectual history, Luther is often portrayed either as a “late medieval man”18 who can only be understood in relation to late-medieval theological and spiritual traditions or, to a lesser extent, as the evangelical witness who harvests the fruits of Renaissance humanism despite his unacknowledged debt to it.19 when evaluating Luther’s political lineage, however, the spotlight usually moves from Luther’s initial polemics against the papacy to the more problematic interactions with secular princes and evangelical radicals. Luther is then depicted primarily as a “magisterial reformer” who accommodates to the political aspirations of secular princes against the continued challenges posed by his Catholic opponents as well as various evangelical opponents (“fanatics” and “false brethren”) who threatened to undermine his movement from within.20 As will Roland Bainton suggests that the way for reform was prepared by the “confluence” of mysticism (and the relative intellectual independence from papal sway of mystics) on the one side, and the free enquiry of the Renaissance on the other (Roland H. Bainton, The Reformation of the Sixteenth Century, London: Hodder and Stoughton 1953, p. 212). A.G. Dickens maintains that the causes of the Reformation are to be understood primarily in terms of the “surge” of social, political, and economic conditions. “while Luther’s own spirit lacked neither charisma nor intellect,” he says, “it was the surge of forces within the nation... which elevated him to one of the titanic roles of western history” (A.G. Dickens, The German Nation and Martin Luther, London: Edward Arnold 1974, p. 226). 18 Heiko A. Oberman, Luther: Man Between God and the Devil, New York: Doubleday 1992, p. xv. 19 Luther’s own hermeneutical principle of sola scriptura can be understood as an extension of the humanist emphasis on returning “ad fontes” (to the sources) of the Christian faith. zwingli, for instance, expressed annoyance at Luther’s unwillingness to express his debt to humanists like Erasmus, valla, Reuchlin, and pellican. See Mark Edwards, Jr., Luther and the False Brethren, Stanford: Stanford university press 1975, pp. 99–100. 20 Recent Luther scholarship has also asked to what extent the Reformation was a “print event,” linking Luther’s emergence as a reformer to the history of printing. Luther, the foremost 17

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become clear in the following sections of this article, both the intellectual and the political traditions of interpretation find expression in Kierkegaard’s understanding of Luther and Lutheranism. with respect to the political dimension, Kierkegaard (especially in his later remarks on Luther) polemicizes against the manner in which protestant reforms made it politically expedient for Northern princes and kings— including Christian III of Denmark—to espouse Lutheranism, and to establish a new form of collusion between churches and states.21 At the same time, with respect to the intellectual dimension, Kierkegaard stresses the importance of Luther’s latemedieval monastic context for understanding the definitive element of Luther’s spiritual life, namely, his own “anguished conscience” (“this frightful antecedent”22), and his pastoral concern to comfort the terrified consciences of others. Indeed, if we track this intellectual thread first, it is clear that Luther’s intense anxiety over the uncertainty of his own salvation is traceable back to his theological formation in the Augustinian monastery at Erfurt, an anxiety that epitomizes some of the crucial tensions running through late-medieval Christian spirituality and theology. In particular, monastic piety as it flourished in late-medieval Catholicism was closely associated with the scholastic distinction between “counsels of perfection,” on the one hand, and simple “commandments” (or “precepts”) on the other. while all professing Christians are obliged to obey commandments, the obedience to “counsels of perfection” (also called “evangelical counsels,” and traditionally equated with the monastic vows of chastity, poverty, and obedience) is the special monastic vocation of those seeking to merit satisfaction before God through (supererogatory) works. This normative distinction between evangelical counsels and commandments has its soteriological roots in the classical satisfaction theory of atonement—first formulated by St. Anselm of Canterbury (1033–1109) and later endorsed by St. Thomas Aquinas (1225–74)—which, as the dominant scholastic view, provided an important theoretical backdrop for the development of medieval monasticism, both as an institution and as a spiritual ideal. In this sense, as Steven Ozment has argued, monasticism became “the spiritual successor to Christian martyrdom,” which

author of printed propaganda in the early years of the Reformation, has sometimes been portrayed as a savvy publicist outwitting, or “outbroadcasting,” the propaganda machinery of the papacy. Given this, Mark Edwards cleverly suggests that the Reformation motto could have been “justification by print alone” (Edwards, Printing, Propaganda, and Martin Luther, p. 2). 21 See, for example, SKS 22, 153, NB12:13 / JP 1, 593: “ ‘The Church’ should really represent ‘becoming’ [Vorden]; ‘the state,’ on the other hand, ‘the established’ [Bestaaen]. Therefore it is very dangerous when state and Church grow together and are identified. For ‘the state’ it holds true that even if one institution or another is not very successful—if it is part of the established—one must be very much circumspect about abolishing it, simply because the idea of ‘the state’ is ‘the established’; and we are perhaps better served by vigorously maintaining a less successful establishment than by reforming it prematurely. In ‘the Church’ the opposite holds true, since its idea is becoming. ‘Becoming’ is more spiritual than ‘the established.’ Therefore the servants of the Church ought not be officials, perhaps not married, but those implementers qualified to serve ‘becoming.’ ” 22 Pap. XI–2 A 303 / JP 3, 2544.

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the early church considered the most perfect confession of Christian faith.23 The cloistered life, in other words, became a means of preserving the severity (or rigorous ideality) of primitive Christianity in a cultural context where martyrdom was neither inevitable nor desirable. Monasticism generally preserved the ideal of self-sacrifice in imitation of Christ by internalizing the virtues of martyrdom; “If one could not die literally in confession of the faith, one might ‘die’ to oneself by ascetic self-denial in the midst of life.”24 After his evangelical turn, Luther protested vehemently against the distinction between “commandments” and “counsels of perfection,” as well as to its institutionalization in a “two-tier” hierarchy for Christian life, a “double standard” that evaluates monks and nuns by a different measure than it does the laity.25 But what proved most problematic for Luther was the fact that monasticism, as he experienced it, promoted the soteriological view that individuals should cooperate in the attainment of their salvation through the performance of penance and works in a state of grace. prioritizing human freedom, Ockhamist theologians extrapolated that if God rewards works of righteousness performed in the “state of grace,” then it is logical to presuppose that God also rewards good works done in the “state of nature” with an infusion of grace as an appropriate due.26 In Luther’s experience, this placed an unbearable degree of responsibility upon an individual for his or her salvation, for an individual in a state of nature could find herself striving to merit the infusion of grace necessary for salvation. As “a monk for twenty years,” he recounts, “I tortured myself with prayers, fasting, vigils, and freezing; the frost alone might have killed me.”27 But the incessant performance of works and penance seems only to have nurtured rage within his “fierce and troubled conscience.”28 Thus, rather than resolving his religious anxiety, the “great and arduous task in an effort to attain God’s grace” only intensified Luther’s distress and entangled his conscience in what he considered a web of “miserable self-deception.” Finally, after growing to resent Steven Ozment, The Age of Reform 1250–1550, New Haven: Yale university press 1980, p. 84. 24 Ibid. 25 See Luther’s “preface to the Sermon on the Mount,” where he writes, “According to them, Christ does not intend everything He teaches in the fifth chapter to be regarded by His Christians as a command for them to observe, but He gave much of it merely as counsel to those who want to become perfect, to be kept by anyone who pleases. This in spite of Christ’s angry threats that no one will enter heaven who abolishes even one of the least of these commandments (Matt. 5:19); and He explicitly calls them ‘commandments.’ On this basis they have thought up the twelve ‘evangelical counsels,’ twelve bits of good advice in the gospel, which may be kept by anyone who pleases if he wants to attain a perfection higher and more perfect than that of other Christians. Thus they have not only made perfection as well as Christian salvation dependent upon works apart from faith, but they have even made these works optional. I call that forbidding true and fine good works—which is just what these vulgar asses and blasphemers accuse us of doing” (Luther’s Works, vol. 21, p. 3). 26 Ozment, The Age of Reform, p. 234. 27 Luther’s Works, vol. 24, p. 24. Kierkegaard refers to the same span of “about 20 years of fear and trembling and spiritual trials,” a period of such intensity that one individual in a generation undergoes it. Pap. XI–2 A 303 / JP 3, 2544. 28 Luther’s Works, vol. 34, pp. 336–7. 23

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and even to “hate” this conception of God, he experienced what he regarded as a breakthrough discovery: Though I lived as a monk without reproach, I felt that I was a sinner before God with an extremely disturbed conscience. I could not believe that he was placated by my satisfaction. I did not love, yes, I hated the righteous God who punishes sinners, and secretly, if not blasphemously, certainly murmuring greatly, I was angry with God, and said, “As if, indeed, it is not enough, that miserable sinners, eternally lost through original sin, are crushed by every kind of calamity by the law of the Decalogue, without having God add pain to pain by the gospel and also by the gospel threatening us with his righteousness and wrath!” Thus I raged with a fierce and troubled conscience. Nevertheless, I beat importunately upon paul at that place (Romans 1:17), most ardently desiring to know what St. paul wanted.29

The verse in Romans to which Luther here refers reads: “The one who is righteous will live by faith,”30 and, according to Luther, what paul here proclaims is the good news of justification through faith alone, and not through works according to the law. Moreover, according to this “Reformation discovery,” Christians are not to think of the gospel as disclosing the righteousness of God in the active sense (i.e., what one must do in order to become righteous), but rather in the passive sense (i.e., God freely imparts righteousness to human beings). “God does not want to redeem us through our own, but through external, righteousness and wisdom, not through one that comes from us and grows in us, but through one that comes from outside; not through one that originates here on earth, but through one that comes from heaven. Therefore, we must be taught a righteousness that comes from outside and is foreign.”31 whereas Luther had previously understood the gospel mainly as the perfect standard of righteousness that sinners had to meet in order to merit grace, following this discovery he understood that justification is not what the sinner does to merit God’s grace, but what sinners receive (as passive righteousness) as they trust in God’s promise of deliverance. He writes: “There I began to understand that the righteousness of God is that by which the righteous lives by a gift of God, namely by faith. And this is the meaning: the righteousness of God is revealed by the gospel, namely, the passive righteousness with which merciful God justifies us by faith, as it is written, ‘He who through faith is righteous shall live.’ ”32 From the perspective of this new (but, crucially for Luther, Pauline) understanding of the gospel, the fundamental problem with the form of late-medieval monasticism that Luther encountered was the premise that human effort can somehow merit God’s grace. For Luther, the proper understanding of the doctrine of justification depends upon the ability to “distinguish most clearly between the law and the gospel.”33 Ibid. The phrase “placated by my satisfaction” presupposes the system of penance and works discussed above. 30 Rom 1:17. 31 Luther’s Works, vol. 25, p. 136. 32 Ibid., vol. 34, p. 337. 33 Ibid., vol. 26, p. 112. See also p. 116: “The knowledge of this topic, the distinction between the law and gospel, is necessary to the highest degree; for it contains a summary of all Christian doctrine. Therefore let everyone learn diligently how to distinguish the law and 29

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But this is exactly what gets most muddled in scholastic theology, according to Luther, and when he deployed the distinction between law and gospel polemically against Rome, his tendency was to formulate the distinction antithetically in order to deconstruct Roman canon law, clerical authority, and the human institutions on which they rested. “The pope has not only confused the law with gospel,” he writes, “but has changed the gospel into mere laws, and ceremonial laws at that.”34 In particular, on Luther’s view, the papal embrace of scholastic theology tended to confuse law with gospel by accentuating the gospel primarily as disclosing God’s righteous standard or requirement, especially through the teachings and authoritative example of Jesus Christ, without the accompanying understanding of gospel as proclaiming a righteousness which individuals (passively) receive through trust in God’s promise. without this counterpoint, the gospel is easily entangled in law (i.e., “threatening us with...righteousness and wrath”35) and salvation is made contingent upon the human ability to merit God’s grace. In his early polemics, Luther tended to draw a sharp, almost antithetical, distinction between law and gospel, with the gospel triumphing over law. For example, in a 1525 sermon entitled “How Christians Should Regard Moses” he asserts: The law commands and requires us to do certain things. The law is thus directed solely to our behavior and consists in making requirements. For God speaks through the law, saying “Do this, avoid that, this is what I expect of you.” The gospel, however, does not preach what we are to do or to avoid. It sets up no requirements but reverses the approach of the law, does the very opposite, and says, “This is what God has done for you; he has let his Son be made flesh for you, has let him be put to death for your sake.”36

On this view, the gospel does not prescribe a standard for human righteousness, but proclaims Christ as the atoning stand-in for human sin. Such a rhetorical drift tends to turn the distinction between law and gospel into an opposition or antithesis, and this opposition often gets reinforced in important texts by Luther’s followers.37 As the Reformation entered a constructive period of theological consolidation and political expansion, however, the characterization of the relationship between law and gospel in terms of a dualistic opposition began to betray its institutional limitations.38 while it initially proved rhetorically useful for deconstructing traditional Catholic norms and institutions, it was hardly a blueprint for reconstructing a new European order. Many Catholic critics recognized this fact, and described Luther’s radical Biblicism the gospel, not only in words but in feeling and in experience; that is, let him distinguish well between these two in his heart and in his conscience.” 34 Ibid., vol. 26, p. 116. 35 Ibid., vol. 34, pp. 336–7. 36 Ibid., vol. 35, p. 162. 37 The most notable example of this, arguably, is the 1531 Apology to the Augsburg Confession by philipp Melanchthon (1497–1560). The Apology’s theological framework is the distinction between law and gospel conceived in terms of the two kinds of righteousness. See Charles p. Arand, “Two Kinds of Righteousness as a Framework for Law and Gospel in the Apology,” Lutheran Quarterly, vol. 15, 2001, pp. 417–39. 38 John witte, Jr., Law and Reformation, Cambridge: Cambridge university press 2002, p. 87.

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and love for paradoxes as a recipe for antinomianism that would lead, inevitably, to social chaos and tyranny.39 Indeed, some of Luther’s original followers eventually emerged as his evangelical opponents when they moved further and further in an antinomian direction, prompting Luther to speak harshly of the “ranting and ravings” of the radical Anabaptists “who wanted to rule the world by the gospel and abolish all temporal law and sword.”40 At the same time, many of the secular princes whom Luther had initially courted as “emergency bishops” (Notbischofe) had begun to abuse their charge by testing the limits of their authority over the church. By the middle of the 1520s, consequently, Luther shifted tactics and saw the need to instruct them on the proper boundaries between the church and state.41 Luther argued that their presumptions (too) were based on a basic confusion of law and gospel, and of the “two kingdoms” which they respectively governed.42 In short, Luther soon recognized that Rome was not the only threat to his reform movement, and what was initially a concentrated battle against the papacy spilled over into two new fronts—a battle against the presumptions of secular princes, on the one hand, and against the fanatic idealism of evangelical opponents, on the other. Luther responded by seeking to give his basic distinction between law and gospel a dialectical vitality within a broader, arguably more nuanced, framework of the two kingdoms.43 Thus, while insisting that the mark of a real theologian is the ability to distinguish law from gospel and gospel from law, Luther maintains that doing so properly is a matter of discerning what is appropriate to the ecclesial-political context. In his Commentary on St. Paul’s Epistle to the Galatians (1535), for example, Luther evokes the book of Ecclesiastes to characterize his understanding of the distinction: “There is a time to die and a time to live (Eccl. 3:2). There is a time to hear the Law and a time to despise the Law. There is a time to hear the Gospel and a time to know nothing about the Gospel.”44 with respect to the soteriological implications of this dictum, Luther’s Reformation “discovery” shines through: “Let the Law go away now, and let the Gospel come; for this is the time to hear the

Luther’s most famous Catholic critic, Erasmus of Rotterdam, famously asserted that he was not willing to burn for one of Luther’s paradoxes. See Jane E. Strohl, “Luther’s Spiritual Journey,” in The Cambridge Companion to Martin Luther, ed. by Donald K. McKim, Cambridge: Cambridge university press 2003, pp. 149–64, see p. 150. 40 Luther’s Works, vol. 45, p. 91. See also Steven Ozment, Protestants: The Birth of a Revolution, New York: Doubleday 1991, p. 126. 41 Luther in the mid-1520s professed a need to change tactics in light of the ways secular authorities had abused his earlier charge to act on behalf of the church. As Steven Ozment described it, “They now needed to be instructed ‘in what they may not do’ to the church....” (Ozment, Protestants: The Birth of a Revolution, p. 124). 42 Luther’s most definitive formulation of the two-kingdoms doctrine came in a 1523 treatise entitled On Temporal Authority: To What Extent It Should be Obeyed, in Luther’s Works, vol. 45. 43 John witte has characterized Luther as “a master of dialectic—of holding two doctrinal opposites in tension and of exploring ingeniously the intellectual power of this tension” (witte, Law and Reformation, p. 88). 44 Luther’s Works, vol. 26, p. 117. 39

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Gospel, not the Law.”45 But with respect to the dictum’s political ramifications, Luther’s application is as far from antinomianism as one can imagine; in matters of civil society, he says, “obedience to the Law must be strictly required. There let nothing be known about the Gospel, conscience, grace, the forgiveness of sins, heavenly righteousness, or Christ Himself; but let there be knowledge only of Moses, of the Law and its works.”46 One might be tempted to conclude that Luther simply wants to have it both ways, but we do well to remember that he at all times is seeking to preserve the evangelical insight of his great Reformation discovery, and at the same time attempting to steer the expansion and consolidation of an epochal political transformation. If, as Ozment puts it, “the great enemies of the age were the advocates of absolute cultural uniformity,”47 then Luther waged a three-front battle against those who sought—each quarter in its own way—to merge the church and the state, and thus to collapse religion and civil society into one another. Against the papacy, Luther proclaimed that a Christian is justified by God’s grace alone, and not at all by works. Against the radical antinomians, he insisted that the gospel liberates a Christian from the law in a soteriological sense, but that the law nonetheless still has its uses.48 And against the secular princes, he asserted the priority of the gospel in ecclesial affairs so as to safeguard theological doctrine and individual conscience from political interference. In this way, despite Luther’s sharp distinction between law and gospel, he also warns against cutting law and gospel entirely free from each other, maintaining instead that their proper relationship is one of dialectical tension and cooperation, the right understanding of which contains the “summary of all Christian doctrine.”49 On at least one occasion, Kierkegaard depicts Luther as a man who “constantly stood in the tension of combat, concentrated as a polemicist...in the smoke and steam of battle.”50 By and large, however, as Kierkegaard tells it, one would think the only battles Luther fought were within his conscience and against Rome. In the following consideration of Kierkegaard’s reception of Luther, therefore, it will be important to bear in mind the following questions. First, we shall have reason to ask whether Kierkegaard’s appraisal and critique of Luther’s “corrective” to latemedieval monasticism obscures the complex interplay between Luther and his other opponents. And second, given a fuller picture of the various challenges Luther faced on multiple fronts, what contributions should this picture make in our understanding of Kierkegaard’s reception of him? It is to that reception that we now turn.

Ibid. Cf. Eccl 3:1–8. Luther’s Works, vol. 26, p. 116. 47 Ozment, Protestants: The Birth of a Revolution, p. 126. 48 we comment on the Lutheran debates over the “uses” of the law in Section II. B below. 49 Luther’s Works, vol. 26, p. 116. 50 Pap. XI–2 A 305 / JP 3, 3617. 45 46

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II. Kierkegaard and Luther Kierkegaard and his pseudonyms refer explicitly to Luther more than one hundred times in the published works,51 and this count more than doubles with the inclusion of Kierkegaard’s journals and papers. If such numbers encourage the impression that Kierkegaard was well read in Luther’s theology, we should note at the outset that many commentators have insisted otherwise. As Ernest Koenker maintains, for example, “viewed in the light of recent Luther-research, Kierkegaard’s Lutherbild is attenuated and programmatic, always reflecting more of Kierkegaard than of Luther.”52 And Regin prenter has commented that, especially prior to 1848, references to Luther in Kierkegaard’s writings appear “incidental and without real significance.”53 In this estimation, prenter agrees fully with Niels Thulstrup who, when unable to ascertain the source of an 1844 reference to Luther in Philosophical Fragments, concludes that even after having finished his formal theological education, Kierkegaard “did not have basic firsthand knowledge of Luther’s own works.”54 Nonetheless, many These references run to about one column and a half in the Cumulative Index to Kierkegaard’s Writings, ed. by Howard v. Hong, Edna H. Hong, Nathaniel J. Hong, Kathryn Hong, and Regine prenzel-Guthrie, princeton: princeton university press 2000, pp. 203–4. 52 Ernest B. Koenker, “Søren Kierkegaard on Luther,” in Interpreters of Luther: Essays in Honor of Wilhelm Pauck, ed. by Jaroslav pelikan, philadelphia: Fortress press 1968, pp. 231–48; p. 232. 53 Regin prenter, “Luther and Lutheranism,” in Kierkegaard and Great Traditions, ed. by Niels Thulstrup and Marie Mikulová Thulstrup, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1981 (Bibliotheca Kierkegaardiana, vol. 6), pp. 121–72, see p. 127. According to prenter, there is nothing extraordinary about this lacuna in Kierkegaard’s theological education. “On the whole,” he writes, “Luther was not seriously studied by many Danish Lutheran theologians in the first half of the 19th century” (ibid., pp. 122–3). Craig Hinkson echoes this position: “Luther’s own writings were not the object of study in the Lutheran theology faculties of the day” (Craig Q. Hinkson, “will the Real Martin Luther please Stand up! Kierkegaard’s view of Luther versus the Evolving perceptions of the Tradition,” in For Self-Examination and Judge For Yourself!, ed. by Robert L. perkins, Macon, Georgia: Mercer university press 2002 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 21), pp. 45–6). See also Leif Grane, “Det Teologiske Fakultet 1830–1925,” in Det Teologiske Fakultet, vol. 5, ed. by Leif Grane, in Københavns Universitet, vols. 1–14, ed. by Ellehøj Svend et al., Copenhagen: Gads Forlag 1980, vol. 5, p. 330. 54 See Niels Thulstrup, “Commentary,” in Philosophical Fragments, trans. by David Swenson, princeton: princeton university press 1971, p. 67. Despite Thulstrup’s suspicion that Kierkegaard lacked a “basic firsthand knowledge of Luther’s own works” (and by this phrase we can probably assume Thulstrup means such famous treatises as Bondage of the Will, The Babylonian Captivity of the Church, and The Freedom of a Christian, etc.), it should be admitted that Kierkegaard may have had a fuller knowledge of these works than his own writings evidence. Among other volumes by and on Luther, Kierkegaard owned a ten-volume collection of Luther’s major works, a copy of Luther’s Table Talks, and a Danish edition of Luther’s Church and House Postil. See Luther’s Werke: Vollständige Auswahl seiner Hauptschriften, vols. 1–10, ed. by Otto von Gerlach, Berlin: G. Eichler 1840–41 (ASKB 312–316); Tisch-Reden, vols. 1–2, ed. by Benjamin Lindnov, Salfeld: wiedemannen 1745 (ASKB 225–226); En christelig Postille, sammendragen af Dr. Morten Luthers Kirke-og Huuspostiller, vols. 1–2, trans. by Jörgen Thisted, Copenhagen den wahlske Boghandling 1828 (ASKB 283). 51

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readers of Kierkegaard’s writings share the sense that in them one can discern a deeply Lutheran inflection. Johannes Sløk, for example, comments that Kierkegaard could very well be considered more Lutheran than even he recognized.55 And, as Lee Barrett points out, while Kierkegaard may not have been “well read in the intricacies of Luther’s theology,” he certainly became “cognizant of the dominant motifs in the Lutheran heritage,” both through his formal education, and through his “immersion in the liturgy, sermons, and family conversations” from his earliest years onward.56 The extent to which this “Lutheran heritage” remains faithful to Luther’s own thought, however, is a matter of considerable scholarly debate and, as will become clear in what follows, a growing preoccupation of Kierkegaard himself. Kierkegaard would perhaps not dispute his critics’ claims that in the earlier years of his authorship his understanding of Luther was somewhat “incidental,” “attenuated” and, on the whole, derivative. Indeed, in 1847 he seems to admit as much when, after having read one of Luther’s sermons, he writes in his journal, wonderful! The category “for you” (subjectivity, inwardness) with which Either/Or concludes (only the truth which builds up [opbygger] is truth for you) is Luther’s own. I have never really read anything by Luther. But now I open up his sermons—and right there in the Gospel for the First Sunday in Advent he says “for you,” on this everything depends.57 Johannes Sløk, “Kierkegaard and Luther,” in A Kierkegaard Critique, ed. by Howard A. Johnson and Niels Thulstrup, Chicago: Henry Regnery 1962, pp. 85–101, see p. 86. 56 Lee C. Barrett, “Faith, works, and the uses of the Law: Kierkegaard’s Appropriation of Lutheran Doctrine,” in For Self-Examination and Judge For Yourself!, ed. by Robert L. perkins, pp. 77–109, see pp. 78–9. Among the works that would have informed Kierkegaard’s developing understanding of Luther’s thought, Barrett indicates the following: the Augsburg Confession (on which Kierkegaard comments in SKS 17, 260, DD: 134 / KJN 1, 251. Pap. vIII– 1 A 675 / JP 2, 1216. SKS 18, 31, EE:75 / KJN 2, 26); the Formula of Concord (see SKS 18, 31, EE:75 / KJN 2, 26. Pap. I A 243 / JP 3, 3656); N.E. Balle, Lærebog i den Evangelisk-christelige Religion indrettet til Brug i de danske Skoler, Copenhagen: Jens Hostrup Schultz 1824 [1791] (ASKB 183); K.G. Bretschneider, Handbuch der Dogmatik der evangelisch-lutherischen Kirche oder Versuch einer beurtheilenden Darstellung der Grundsätze, welche diese Kirche in ihren symbolischen Schriften über die christliche Glaubenslehre ausgesprochen hat, mit Vergleichung der Glaubenslehre in den Bekenntnißschriften der reformirten Kirche, vols. 1–2, 4th revised and enlarged ed., Leipzig: Johann Ambrosius Barth 1838 (ASKB 437–438); August Hahn, Lehrbuch des christlichen Glaubens, Leipzig: Friedrich Christian wilhelm vogel 1828 (ASKB 535); and Karl Hase, Hutterus redivivus oder Dogmatik der evangelisch-lutherischen Kirche. Ein dogmatisches Repertorium für Studirende, 4th revised ed., Leipzig: Breitkopf und Härtel 1839 (ASKB 581). In addition, as Hinkson points out, Kierkegaard devoted much time and energy in 1831 and 1832 to the study of philipp Marheineke’s Geschichte der teutschen Reformation, vols. 1–4, Berlin: Nicolai 1816–34. This work is not listed in the auction catalogue of Kierkegaard’s library, but Kierkegaard took careful notes on the work, and these run to fourteen pages. See Pap. I C 1 / JP 5, 5052. 57 SKS 20, 274–5, NB3:61 / JP 2, 2463. Kierkegaard indicates here that he was reading Luther’s “Sermon on Matthew 21:1–9, the first Sunday in Advent.” See [Luther], En christelig Postille, sammendragen af Dr. Morten Luthers Kirke- og Huuspostiller, parts 1–2, trans. by Jörgen Thisted, Copenhagen: den wahlske Boghandling 1828 (ASKB 283) vol. 1, p. 28. Luther uses the “for you” construction twice in this sermon: “I have often said that there are 55

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That Kierkegaard was gratified to see in Luther a forerunner for his own emphasis on subjectivity is clear, but his exclamation of “wonderful!” seems also to express surprise at the fact that he has never before recognized this as a special emphasis of Luther. It is perhaps for this reason that he immediately admits, “I have never really read anything by Luther.” Amy Laura Hall is surely right that we should read Kierkegaard’s admission with the emphasis on “really” rather than on “anything,” since previous remarks attest that this is not, in fact, the very first time he has read anything by Luther.58 Beyond that, however, there is the further puzzle as to why Kierkegaard would express such surprise upon reading this sermon (as though for the first time) when it appears that he used this very sermon as a source in preparing the manuscript of Works of Love in the preceding year. This puzzle requires a solution, and a brief consideration of some of the recent literature addressing Lutheran themes in Works of Love should put us in a better position to propose a plausible guess at the riddle. A. Luther in the Published Works while Lutheran themes and explicit references to Luther appear in Kierkegaard’s writings prior to the 1847 publication of Works of Love, it is with this major work that the “deep affinities”59 between Luther and Kierkegaard appear to become a matter of active appropriation on Kierkegaard’s part, rather than a more passive culturallymediated reception. The question, however, is whether or not this apparently active appropriation can be substantiated through source criticism. A number of scholars in recent years have argued that in various sections of Works of Love, Kierkegaard retrieves and reworks themes from Luther’s writings in order to reintroduce his Lutheran readers to Luther’s own insights. But Kierkegaard’s reliance upon Luther is generally “unobtrusive,”60 as Andrew J. Burgess remarks, and the challenge of establishing which of Luther’s works most influence the development of Works of Love is exacerbated by the fact that, in the few instances where Kierkegaard does refer explicitly to Luther there, he does not cite any particular texts. Scholars have two kinds of faith. First, a faith in which you indeed believe that Christ is such a man as he is described and proclaimed here and in all the gospels, but do not believe that he is such a man for you, and are in doubt whether you have any part in him and think: Yes, he is such a man to others, to peter, paul, and the blessed saints; but who knows that he is such to me and that I may expect the same from him and may confide in it, as these saints did?” And more explicitly: “That alone can be called Christian faith, which believes without wavering that Christ is the Saviour not only to peter and to the saints but also to you” (Sermons of Martin Luther, vol. 1, p. 21; italics added). 58 Amy Laura Hall, Kierkegaard and the Treachery of Love, Cambridge: Cambridge university press 2002, p. 202, note 9. See also SKS 18, 267–8, JJ:380 / KJN 2, 246–7. 59 Andrew J. Burgess, “Kierkegaard’s Concept of Redoubling and Luther’s Simul Justus,” in Works of Love, ed. by Robert L. perkins, Macon, Georgia: Mercer university press 1999 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 16), pp. 39–55, see p. 39. 60 Ibid., p. 55. Burgess’ assertion that Kierkegaard “makes no effort to appeal to Luther’s authority” pertains specifically to the fifth discourse of the second series of Works of Love (“Love Hides a Multitude of Sins”) but applies equally to the whole.

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found it necessary, therefore, to speculate somewhat regarding what specific source material Kierkegaard used for its composition. Hall, for example, reads the pivotal discourse of Works of Love entitled, “Our Duty to Remain in Love’s Debt to One Another” as a “dense commentary on Luther’s theology of love,”61 and sources this to Luther’s treatise The Freedom of a Christian. Hall notes the textual parallel created by the fact that Luther’s treatise and Kierkegaard’s discourse both open by quoting paul the Apostle—“Owe no one anything, except to love one another” (Romans 13:8)—and she goes on to argue that Kierkegaard’s discourse “evokes and explicates”62 Luther’s articulation of the relationship between faith in Christ and love of the neighbor. According to Luther, a Christian “lives not in himself, but in Christ and in his neighbor. Otherwise he is not a Christian. He lives in Christ through faith, in his neighbor through love.”63 The similarity in theme and thesis between the way Luther links justification by faith and sanctification by love, on the one hand, and the way Kierkegaard links the Christian debt to Christ and the duty of neighbor love, on the other, makes Hall’s reading a plausible one. And, while no explicit evidence exists to confirm Hall’s thesis, some corroboration comes from Jamie Ferreira’s assertion that it was at least “unlikely” that Kierkegaard would not have been familiar with The Freedom of a Christian.64 If it is fair to say that The Freedom of a Christian guides Hall’s interpretation of Kierkegaard’s relationship to Luther, then Luther’s Treatise on Good Works guides Ferreira’s reading of the same relationship. Ferreira acknowledges that “we have no evidence for claiming that Kierkegaard ever read the Treatise on Good Works,”65 but she suggests how Kierkegaard in Works of Love adopts an appreciation of “works” that seems to reveal an indebtedness to this treatise. The relation between good works and Christian faith in this treatise is, in fact, an extension of the relation between neighbor love and indebtedness to Christ discussed in The Freedom of a Christian; as love of neighbor springs from a Christian’s debt to Christ, so good works flow from authentic Christian faith. Luther was well aware that he was frequently misunderstood on this point by allies and critics alike, and he composed the Treatise on Good Works for the express purpose of correcting this misunderstanding. Ferreira relates how Luther lamented this misunderstanding; “when I exalt faith and reject such works done without faith they accuse me of forbidding good works,” Luther writes. whereas, “the fact of the matter is that I want very much to teach the real good works which spring from faith.”66 The point is that Luther’s insistence on justification by faith alone means that works done apart from faith amount to nothing, whereas the good works that flow from faith are in fact the expression of faith, an “active embrace of Hall, Kierkegaard and the Treachery of Love, p. 37. Ibid., pp. 37–8. Kierkegaard uses Romans 13:8 as the epigraph, whereas Luther cites it along with other important Pauline sayings in the first paragraphs of his treatise. 63 The Freedom of a Christian in Luther’s Works, vol. 31, p. 370. 64 M. Jamie Ferreira, Love’s Grateful Striving, Oxford: Oxford university press 2001, p. 250. 65 Ibid. 66 Treatise on Good Works in Luther’s Works, vol. 44, p. 24; quoted from Ferreira, Love’s Grateful Striving, p. 249. 61 62

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grace.”67 As such, faith itself is a “work,” albeit not one work among others, but a total response to God’s grace. And this view bears more than a passing resemblance to the view Kierkegaard articulates in Works of Love, as Ferreira points out: Kierkegaard, too, will adopt this appreciation of a “work” since he does not limit love’s works to the traditional tasks of attending to those in poverty, hunger, or other distress; the examples he gives of love’s works include the “work” of remaining in love’s debt to the other; of abiding in love; of forgiving another; of trusting, hoping, and believing. As he says when speaking of love’s faithfulness, that love abides “is not an inactive characteristic”; it is a “work” (wL, p. 301).68

As is the case with The Freedom of a Christian, so here too the similarity in theme and thesis between Luther’s position and Kierkegaard’s makes the conjecture that Kierkegaard draws upon Luther’s Treatise on Good Works while writing Works of Love appear plausible. Of course, as Ferreira also notes, given that Kierkegaard nowhere cites either of these works, it might instead be the case that he is drawing upon other writings by Luther that affirm the same message.69 we know from the journals that Kierkegaard began reading Luther’s Church Postil (Wartburgpostille) at least as early as 1847 (the year in which he completed and published Works of Love), and possibly earlier. As mentioned earlier, the Postil consists of a collection of exemplary sermons that Luther prepared in 1521 at wartburg Castle for the instruction of clergy in biblical theology and exposition, and it will be fruitful to investigate whether what Luther writes there could have influenced the composition of Works of Love. Of the three explicit references to Luther in Works of Love, two of them do not seem to suggest any direct engagement with Luther’s writings; the first alludes to what Luther is “supposed to have declared” about the difficulties of praying without distraction,70 and the second merely repeats Luther’s famous, if apocryphal, conclusion to his speech at the Diet of worms—“I cannot do otherwise, God help me. Amen.”71 The third reference, which was introduced earlier, shows more promise. It comes in “Our Duty to Remain in Love’s Debt to One Another” (the discourse that Hall identifies as a “dense commentary on Luther’s theology of love”72) and reads, “Therefore, take away from the essentially Christian the possibility of offense, or take away from the forgiveness of sins the battle of the anguished conscience (to which, according to Luther’s excellent explanation, this whole doctrine is to lead), and then close the churches, the sooner the better, or turn them into places of amusement that stand open all day.”73 Again, Kierkegaard does not cite where in Luther’s writings he comes across this “excellent explanation” regarding the relationship between “the Ibid. Ibid. 69 Alongside the two works already mentioned, Ferreira suggests as another possible candidate Luther’s “Short Exposition of the Decalogue, the Creed, and the Lord’s prayer.” 70 SKS 9, 21 / WL, 13. 71 SKS 9, 84 / WL, 78. 72 Hall, Kierkegaard and the Treachery of Love, p. 37. 73 SKS 9, 199 / WL, 201. 67 68

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anguished conscience” and the doctrine of “the forgiveness of sins,” but, together with an 1846 draft of this passage addressing this even more specifically in terms of the doctrine of “the Atonement,”74 this reads as a gloss on one of the central themes of Luther’s “Sermon on Matthew 21:1–9, the first Sunday in Advent.” Importantly, this is the same sermon about which Kierkegaard exclaims “wonderful!” It would appear, therefore, that the puzzle as to why Kierkegaard expresses surprise upon re-reading the sermon in the following year is not so much a puzzle about dating, but rather a feature of the common hermeneutical phenomenon of getting more out of a text on subsequent readings. Moreover, not only does Luther here address the importance of a personal appropriation of Christ’s forgiveness (“for you”), but he also relates this quite explicitly to the anguish of a troubled conscience: Oh, this is a comforting word to a believing heart, for without Christ, man is subjected to many raging tyrants who are not kings but murderers, at whose hands he suffers great misery and fear. These are the devil, the flesh, the world, sin, also the law and eternal death, by all of which the troubled conscience is burdened, is under bondage, and lives in anguish. For where there is sin there is no clear conscience; where there is no clear conscience, there is a life of uncertainty and an unquenchable fear of death and hell in the presence of which no real joy can exist in the heart.75

we know from Kierkegaard’s journal that he began reading from this collection of Luther’s Postil at about this time, so if this is the “excellent explanation” to which Kierkegaard refers in Works of Love, then it becomes unnecessary to hypothesize that Kierkegaard was additionally working with one or another of Luther’s more wellknown texts.76 This case is strengthened by the fact that, in this first sermon and in the larger collection as well, Luther’s Postil emphasizes precisely what both Hall and Ferreira have shown to be the central theme of Works of Love, namely, “good works” through “love of the neighbor” as the true and complete expression of Christian life. In the section of Luther’s postil on Matthew 21:1–9 headed “Concerning Good works,” for example, Luther writes: we now come to consider good works. we receive Christ not only as a gift by faith, but also as an example of love toward our neighbor, whom we are to serve as Christ serves us. Faith brings and gives Christ to you with all his possessions. Love gives you to your neighbor with all your possessions. These two things constitute a true and complete

SKS 20, 69, NB:79 / JP 3, 2461; see also WL, 406–7. “First Sunday in Advent, Matthew 21:1–9,” in Sermons of Martin Luther, vol. 1, pp. 23–4. See also “Sermon on Matthew 21:1–9, the first Sunday in Advent,” in En christelig Postille, vol. 1, p. 28. 76 Editorial consensus is mounting on this, in fact. In the recently published commentary to Kjerlighedens Gjerninger, Tonny Aagaard Olesen and pia Søltoft suggest this passage as a probable source for this reference (SKS K9, 197). Before them, Howard Hong and Edna Hong identified this same sermon, along with two other sermons from Luther’s Postils (viz., “Sermon on philippians 4:4–7, the fourth Sunday in Advent,” and “Sermon on Romans 13:11–14, the first Sunday in Advent”) as the likely source for Kierkegaard’s reference to “Luther’s excellent explanation” (WL, p. 510, note 245, and p. 522, note 13). 74 75

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Given this evidence that Luther’s Postil are, in fact, substantive enough to serve as the primary source material for the development of Kierkegaard’s Lutherbild, along with the fact that the Postil are the only writings by Luther that Kierkegaard engages critically in his journals (to which we shall soon turn), we might ask why so little critical attention has been given to the importance of these specific works within Luther’s corpus. On the one hand, it is surely understandable that as readers who detect a deeply Lutheran inflection in Kierkegaard’s works we will want to explore further to see whether Kierkegaard’s reading of Luther extends beyond his Postil. On the other hand, we risk overlooking the significance of these writings if we assume that a substantive understanding of the core of Luther’s thought must be sought elsewhere than in these exemplary sermons. In a study of Luther’s possible influence on Kierkegaard’s Practice in Christianity, for instance, william R. Bragstad argues that the pseudonymous author Anti-Climacus “covertly” draws upon Luther’s The Bondage of the Will (1525) in an attempt to “reintroduce Luther into Lutheranism” as part of his avowed task of reintroducing Christianity into Christendom.78 Practice in Christianity was published in 1850, well into the period during which we know Kierkegaard was reading Luther’s Postil with some regularity, but Bragstad casts nary a glance that direction.79 Instead, he sifts Practice in Christianity for indications of an influence from The Bondage of the Will, and he ably identifies parallels in the ways that Luther and Anti-Climacus (and Kierkegaard in his own name in one section) treat issues such as “the Law–Gospel issue”80 and the doctrine “that man is able to do nothing to merit his salvation.”81 Nonetheless, never do we come across a clear allusion to (much less an explicit citation of) The Bondage of the Will. According to Bragstad, this is because “Kierkegaard does not wish to be accused of ‘plagiarism.’ ”82 This is perhaps correct. On source-critical grounds, however, it seems more responsible to say of The “First Sunday in Advent, Matthew 21:1–9,” in Sermons of Martin Luther, vol. 1, p. 34. See also the section entitled “Application of the Gospel: The Doctrine of Faith and Good works,” in Luther’s postil for the “Third Sunday in Advent, Matthew 11,” in Sermons of Martin Luther, vol. 1, pp. 109–13. There Luther writes, “Faith receives the good works of Christ, love bestows works on our neighbor.” It is noteworthy that Luther composed these sermons the year after The Freedom of a Christian and Treatise on Good Works and that, unsurprisingly, they echo many of the same theological themes and arguments in their more famous counterparts. 78 William R. Bragstad, “Luther’s Influence on Training in Christianity,” The Lutheran Quarterly, vol. 28, 1976; pp. 257–71, see p. 257; p. 260. 79 Bragstad does take note of Hermann Diem’s remark that Kierkegaard “confined his readings (after 1847) almost entirely to Luther’s sermons” (quoting Hermann Diem, Kierkegaard’s Dialectic of Existence, Edinburgh: Oliver and Boyd 1959, p. 159), but he does not pursue that angle because he wishes to overcome “the reluctance to give Luther a greater role in Kierkegaard’s writing.” See “Luther’s Influence on Training in Christianity,” pp. 257–8. 80 Ibid., p. 264. 81 Ibid., p. 270; italics in original. 82 Ibid. 77

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Bondage of the Will precisely what Ferreira says of Treatise on Good Works, namely, that we have no evidence for claiming that Kierkegaard ever read it.83 It may well be the case, as Bragstad proposes, that Luther’s influence is “hidden in the public works (as in Training [Practice]), whereas the private works [i.e., Kierkegaard’s journals] represent a more direct statement.” But this thesis too has its complications. First of all, in 1851—the year after Practice in Christianity was published—Kierkegaard did offer a direct and “public” statement of appreciation for Luther as “a man from God and with faith” in the opening pages of For SelfExamination, a work published under Kierkegaard’s own name, and which (along with Judge For Yourself!) overtly develops what Kierkegaard considers “true Lutheranism.”84 If Kierkegaard’s writings seek to smuggle Luther back into Lutheranism, therefore, then this operation is not consistently “covert,” and so one is left wondering whether such ostensive obfuscation is internal to the authorship or attributed by the reader. It might be possible to make appeal here to the complex nature of Kierkegaard’s authorship, suggesting that the reintroduction of Luther into Lutheranism is covert only in the pseudonymous writings, and not necessarily in works published under Kierkegaard’s own name. Bragstad does not make this appeal, however, and in any case it would entail a far more complex theory of Kierkegaard’s authorship than the one Bragstad defends. Surely Bragstad is correct to wish to overcome “the reluctance to give Luther a greater role in Kierkegaard’s writing”85 when and where that influence is apparent. why assume, however, that we would “give Luther a greater role” by locating Kierkegaard’s source in The Bondage of the Will rather than in the Postil? If “reluctance” is the issue, then should we not inquire into the reluctance to look for Kierkegaard’s sources beginning with the texts we know Kierkegaard is reading? The reasonable worry could be that if Kierkegaard never became familiar with Luther’s “major theological writings,” then prenter’s conclusion that Kierkegaard “never studied Luther in the proper sense of the word” would seem justified.86 But that seems fair enough; Kierkegaard certainly never studied Luther’s works in the sense that would entitle him to be considered a Luther scholar. Nonetheless, he developed an informed understanding of the key elements of Luther’s thinking, and we have no reason to think it would be necessary to study more “major” works than the Postil in order to gain such an understanding. After all, as mentioned earlier, the Postil was not simply a collection of Luther’s sermons, but a collection of exemplary sermons, prepared for the instruction of clergy in biblical theology and exposition. And, as for its importance within Luther’s larger authorship, Luther himself once observed, the “Postil is the very best book I ever wrote.”87 Echoing this position, Albrecht

See Ferreira, Love’s Grateful Striving, p. 250. SV1 XII, 307–8 / FSE, 16–17. See Barrett’s clear and informative discussion of Luther’s influence on these works in “Faith, Works, and the Uses of the Law: Kierkegaard’s Appropriation of Lutheran Doctrine.” 85 Bragstad, “Luther’s Influence on Training in Christianity,” p. 258. 86 prenter, “Luther and Lutheranism,” p. 125. 87 Luther’s Works, vol. 52, p. ix. 83 84

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Beutel groups the Church Postil among Luther’s “most important works,”88 and Hans J. Hillerbrand agrees that it “deservedly ranks among the very best of Luther’s writings in terms of clarity of exposition and incisiveness of thought. It epitomizes Luther’s genius.”89 Thus, in turning to Kierkegaard’s discussions of Luther in his journals, we should acknowledge that we are unable to demonstrate Kierkegaard’s direct familiarity with Luther sources other than the Postil, but also recognize that even on its own this collection affords Kierkegaard a carefully wrought elucidation of Luther’s key theological positions. B. Luther in the Journals while prior to 1847 Kierkegaard’s journals and papers exhibit almost no intentional engagement with Luther’s writings, from 1848 onward his entries attest to a new resolution to become more familiar with Luther. In one of Kierkegaard’s earliest references to Luther in that year he comments, “Today I have read Luther’s sermon according to plan,”90 and this reference to a “plan” suggests that Kierkegaard had committed himself to some sort of schedule for reading Luther’s postils as a devotional practice. One might still expect that Kierkegaard would exhibit greater interest in Luther’s other writings as well, but the mass of journal entries that refer to Luther in some connection or another (well over 100) gives no evidence that Kierkegaard ever read from anything but his collection of Luther’s postil sermons.91 If a parallel can be drawn with his own writings, then Kierkegaard apparently assumed that Luther’s sermons were the heart of Luther’s theological contribution, just as he came to consider his succession of upbuilding discourses the “unifying thread” of his own authorship.92 In the first months of this reading plan Kierkegaard Albrecht Beutel, “Luther’s Life,” in The Cambridge Companion to Martin Luther, ed. by Donald K. McKim, p. 12. 89 Hans J. Hillerbrand, “Introduction to volume 52,” in Luther’s Works, vol. 52, p. ix. 90 SKS 20, 357, NB4:153 / JP 3, 2465. 91 The two-volume collection of Luther’s postils which Kierkegaard owned contains Luther’s Church Postil (Kirchenpostille) and selections from the so-called “house postils.” See [Luther], En christelig Postille. The majority of Kierkegaard’s comments refer to Luther’s Church Postil (1521), which cover the church year from the First Sunday in Advent to the end of the Holy week (i.e., from Christmas to Advent). Luther also wrote a “winter-portion,” covering Epiphany to Easter, which appeared in 1525. The so-called House Postil contains the church-year sermons Luther preached in his home between 1531 and 1535, when poor health prohibited him from preaching in public. unlike the Church Postil, these house postils were not written by Luther but based on stenographic notes of Georg Rörer, and are therefore not “exemplary” sermons in the same sense as the former. 92 George pattison, Kierkegaard’s Upbuilding Discourses: Philosophy, Literature, Theology, London: Routledge 2003, p. 13. within the Danish context especially, there are historical grounds for regarding the postils as one of the most important parts of Luther’s authorship, as evidenced by a key source document of the Danish ecclesial tradition. The Church Ordinance of 1537 (written by Luther’s colleague and friend, Johann Bugenhagen, and approved by Luther himself), which helped to define Lutheran Orthodoxy for centuries to come, stipulated that all Lutheran pastors should not only own their own Bibles but also copies of the following works, listed in this order: Luther’s Postils, Melanchthon’s Apology 88

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clearly derived considerable satisfaction from Luther’s sermons. Many of the earliest journal entries convey his approval of certain “excellent observations about faith,”93 of a particular sermon “worth reading again and again,”94 and of a view of prayer that Luther “expresses very beautifully.”95 All of these sentiments echo Kierkegaard’s initial estimation that “Luther is still the master of us all.”96 Almost from the beginning, however, this sanguine view comes to be mixed with, and then overshadowed by, a recurrent complaint that “Luther is somewhat confused—that is, somewhat dialectically confused.”97 Between 1848 and his death in 1855, Kierkegaard comments repeatedly and in a number of different connections on Luther’s “usual dialectical unclarity,”98 and these comments all tend toward a central charge. According to Kierkegaard, Luther is insufficiently “dialectical” with respect to the relationship between law and gospel, or, in the terms Kierkegaard more frequently uses to discuss this dialectic, the relationship between the Christian requirement to imitate Christ as a “prototype” or “pattern,” on the one hand, and the necessity of accepting God’s forgiving grace as an unmerited “gift,” on the other. How are we to interpret this charge, given that other readers regard Luther as “a master of dialectic,”99 and in light of the fact that Luther himself maintained that a proper understanding of the relationship between faith and works contained the “summary of all Christian doctrine”?100 Kierkegaard appreciates Luther’s central insight, and recognizes the importance of the “correction” to medieval monasticism that he makes. “Since the Middle Ages had gone farther and farther astray in accentuating the aspect of Christ as the prototype,” he writes, “Luther came along and accentuated (and presumably also the Augsburg Confessions) and the Loci Communes, Luther’s Smaller Catechism along with a manual for its interpretation, and Melanchthon’s Instruction for the Visitors in Saxony. Although there is no evidence indicating that Kierkegaard actually studied the Church Ordinance, a student of the Danish ecclesial tradition would recognize the importance of Luther’s Postils as one of the major sourcebooks for Lutheran theology. See Martin Schwarz Lausten, “The Early Reformation in Denmark and Norway, 1520–1559,” in The Scandinavian Reformation: From Evangelical Movement to Institutionalization of Reform, ed. by Ole peter Grell, Cambridge: Cambridge university press 1995, pp. 12–41, see p. 40. 93 SKS 21, 170–1, NB8:58 / JP 3, 2474. 94 SKS 22, 9, NB11:3 / JP 3, 2485. 95 SKS 22, 191, NB12:87 / JP 3, 2501. 96 SKS 20, 357, NB4:153 / JP 3, 2465. 97 SKS 20, 375, NB5:10 / JP 3, 2467. 98 SKS 21, 171, NB8:58 / JP 3, 2474. See also SKS 20, 373–4, NB5:10 / JP 3, 2467. SKS 23, 28, NB15:35 / JP 3, 2512. SKS 23, 367–8, NB19:57 / JP 3, 2521. SKS 24, 414, NB24:141 / JP 3, 2541. 99 witte, Law and Reformation, p. 88. Cf. “For Luther, the life of the Christian on earth is necessarily characterized by the presence and regular manifestation of a series of contrasting realities. His spirituality is built around these polarities that cannot be resolved. Luther’s various opponents had, in his eyes, this in common: They tried one way or another to flatten the paradoxes of life under the gospel and thus to rob discipleship of its relentless tension... to live in paradox is to live in a state of crisis that cries out for resolution, a resolution that for Luther only God can effect” (Strohl, “Luther’s Spiritual Journey,” p. 150). 100 Luther’s Works, vol. 26, p. 116.

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the other side, that he is a gift and this gift is to be received in faith.”101 Nonetheless, according to Kierkegaard, Luther was not as careful as he should have been with respect to the potential consequences of his own emphasis on understanding Christ first and foremost in terms of a “gift” that a Christian appropriates in faith. As he writes in 1849: The error of the Middle Ages was in imagining that men could possibly manage to be like Christ. From this came sanctification by works and the like. Then came Luther and quite rightly emphasized Christ as gift and made the same distinction between Christ as gift and as pattern as between faith and works. But I wonder if Luther ever dreamed of the pretence involved in the hidden inwardness which this has engendered. I also wonder if Luther ever dreamed when he got married that this would eventually go so far that a pastor would almost think that if he only married he then would have done all that God required of him.102

Hence, according to Kierkegaard, Luther’s reforms had the regrettable consequence that the dialectic between law and gospel became so attenuated, the tension so slackened, that Christ as gift meant everything and Christ as prototype meant nothing. “After Luther came protestantism,” he writes, and “it found that Luther was glorious; it did not even have enough desire and concern to choose to begin to strive, to fast, to give alms, etc. It had something quite different to attend to—and men wanted only to hear the gospel, the gospel.”103 Kierkegaard’s allegation here is that Luther’s followers did not understand Luther’s position—or did not wish to understand his position—as a counterbalancing corrective to the medieval tendency toward works righteousness; they simply substituted Luther’s emphasis on grace as a new “protestant” norm in place of the older “Catholic” piety which at least (in a limited way) preserved rigor in Christianity through the monastic ideal.104 understood rightly, Kierkegaard thinks, the point of Luther’s reforms underscore the dialectic between law and gospel, between Christ as pattern and Christ as gift, and thus prevent the error of thinking one could ever earn salvation by virtue of his or her own efforts. But “on the whole,” he says, “Luther struck too hard.”105 And the protestant tendency has been to misappropriate Luther’s “correction,” embracing Lutheranism as a kind of license for “the most unchristian shirking,”106 a form of theological antinomianism in which an ostensibly Christian form of life is indistinguishable from a thoroughly secular one: SKS 21, 296, NB10:76 / JP 3, 2481. SKS 22, 241, NB12:162 / JP 3, 2503. 103 SKS 23, 437, NB20:76 / JP 3, 2527. 104 Kierkegaard discerns “more significance in Catholicism simply because ‘imitation’ has not been relinquished completely” (SKS 24, 384, NB24:105 / JP 2, 1904). Kierkegaard in one instance even suggests, “There is no doubt that our age and protestantism especially may need the monastery again or that it should exist. ‘The monastery’ is an essential dialectical element in Christianity; therefore we need to have it out there like a buoy at sea in order to see where we are, even though I myself would not enter it” (SKS 20, 247, NB3:4 / JP 3, 2750). 105 SKS 23, 368, NB19:57.b / JP 3, 2522. 106 SKS 21, 297, NB10:76 / JP 3, 2481. 101 102

Martin Luther: Reform, Secularization, and the Question of His “True Successor” 195 It was not long before the secular mentality understood: Aha! There is just the man for us, that Luther! Aided and abetted by his theory, we get permission to hang on to a thoroughgoing secularity, to arrange our lives so secularly that it is a pleasure, and then we add: “To give everything to the poor, to live in the monastery is not the best thing—that is what Luther said.”107

The question of whether Kierkegaard here depicts the effective history of the Lutheran Reformation from the most revealing angle is no doubt debatable. He brings his reading of Luther’s postils to bear incisively upon his personal observations of daily life under the official Lutheranism of Danish society, but there is no acknowledgement that Luther and his colleagues and followers reflected deeply and carefully on the law–gospel dialectic and, indeed, on the different “uses” of the law in the light of the primacy of the gospel.108 perhaps more surprising, however, is the fact that Kierkegaard comes more and more to hold Luther himself responsible for the protestant misconstrual of the law–gospel dialectic. If he had found in Luther’s postils a censure of the apparent self-righteousness of the earlier piety that nonetheless retained an emphasis on striving to live a life patterned after the life of Christ, then perhaps he might have excused Luther himself from his

SKS 23, 367–8, NB19:57 / JP 3, 2521. Controversies over the use of the law in Christian life “rocked Lutheran circles” from the 1520s onward (see Robert Kolb, “preaching the Christian Life: Ethical Instruction in the postils of Martin Chemnitz,” in Caritas et Reformation: Essays on Church and Society in Honor of Carter Lindberg, ed. by David M. whitford, St. Louis, Concordia publishing House 1989, pp. 133–53, see p. 134). In 1527–28, Luther and his colleague philipp Melanchthon headed a visitation of congregations in electoral Saxony and were dismayed by the moral disorder they found in the villages. Luther’s response was an increased emphasis on the accusatory role of the law in his preaching, the so-called “second use” (ibid., p. 135). Melanchthon, for his part, approached the issue in a somewhat more systematic fashion, and his Visitation Articles (1527) with their discussion of the three “uses” of the law (the civil use, the theological [or accusatory] use, and the didactic use) marks an important “shift toward a law-centered theology” within protestantism (Timothy J. wengert, Law and Gospel: Philip Melanchthon’s Debate with John Agricola of Eisleben over poenitentia, Grand Rapids, Michigan: Baker Books 1997, p. 191). Luther’s own view on the uses of the law tends to be less systematic than Melanchthon’s. Bernd wannenwetsch helpfully describes the mature perspective that Luther develops in his commentary on Genesis as a “narrative dramatic perspective” rather than a systematic articulation of his view (Bernd wannenwetsch, “Luther’s Moral Theology,” in The Cambridge Companion to Martin Luther, pp. 120–35, see p. 124; italics in original). while Luther’s analysis of the uses of the law may be less systematic than Melanchthon’s, however, Luther’s Against the Antinomians (1539) demonstrates that Luther no less than Melanchthon conceived of an ongoing dialectical relationship between law and gospel in Christian life. Moreover, in his dispute with John Agricola over the proper use of the law, Luther is reported to have denounced Agricola as an antinomian, and to have exclaimed, “Oh, if we could [only] honor Master philipp [Melanchthon] who teaches the use of the law most clearly and lucidly. Even I yield to him, although I dealt as clearly with this matter in my Galatians commentary.... For he who destroys the doctrine of the law politically, destroys the magistracy and home discipline; if he destroys [the law] ecclesiastically, then there is no knowledge of sin” (quoted from Edwards, Luther and the False Brethren, p. 157). 107 108

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charges against Lutheranism. But when he alleges, “Luther struck too hard,”109 he seems to mean that overall Luther’s postils emphasize Christ as gift to the neglect of Christ as pattern and, therefore, do not communicate the law–gospel (works–faith, pattern–gift) dialectic in its fullest rigor.110 Here too, the question of whether Kierkegaard’s impression of Luther’s position is as complete as it could be is debatable—a question to which we shall return in the final section—but it seems clear that Kierkegaard assumes that it is. When he reflects on the fact that his own theological trajectory “in the direction of Christ as pattern” is open to criticism on Lutheran grounds, Kierkegaard nonetheless feels confident of his own defense, for, he says, “truly, I have also understood Luther well.”111 And the understanding of Luther that Kierkegaard arrives at is one in which the reformer gets distracted somewhere along the way and becomes an individual who garners political support by making his religious reforms agreeable to human nature: The more I look at Luther the more I am convinced that he was muddle-headed. A reform which amounts to casting off burdens and making life easy is appreciated—and one can easily get friends to cooperate. True reforming always makes life difficult, lays on burdens, and therefore the true reformer is always slain, as if it were enmity toward mankind....But now in our time it is clear that what must come to the fore is the aspect of Christ as prototype.112

Thus, in social-cultural contexts where a Lutheranism of easy grace has taken root, spread, and choked out the older Catholic piety, Kierkegaard insists upon the importance of a reassertion of Christ’s life and teachings as pattern or, as he says here, as “prototype.”113 It would be a mistake to interpret Kierkegaard’s reassertion of the importance of Christ as pattern as a simple swing of the pendulum back towards medieval piety, however, because Kierkegaard considers that form of religiousness “adolescent behavior.”114 Rather, what he calls for is a renewed emphasis on the SKS 23, 368, NB19:57b / JP 3, 2522. In one instance, Kierkegaard draws attention to Luther’s “Sermon on Matthew 11:2– 10, the Third Sunday in Advent” where the problem, as Kierkegaard sees it, is that Luther “separates the two” (the law and the gospel) and characterizes the distinction as an opposition or antithesis, which he insists is not the teaching of Christ. “First the law and then the gospel, which is sheer leniency, etc. This way Christianity becomes an optimism anticipating that we are to have an easy life in this world...” (SKS 26, 166–7, NB32:67 / JP 3, 2554). 111 SKS 22, 241, NB12:162 / JP 3, 2503. 112 SKS 21, 296–7, NB10:76 / JP 3, 2481. 113 The translation would be even more closely rendered with the definite article as “the prototype,” since the Danish term here is “Forbilledet.” 114 SKS 23, 437, NB20:76 / JP 3, 2527. Kierkegaard regards medieval piety as “adolescent” for two reasons. First, while the monasticism of the Middle Ages emphasized the spiritual ascent and rigor of inwardness, it advertised inner transformation through outward expressions (e.g., an external withdrawal from the world, and the celebration of this withdrawal through outward manifestations like dress). Second, medieval piety tended to encourage a regard for monks as extraordinary Christians, and this was a problematic characteristic given Kierkegaard’s conviction that each Christian would be judged by the same criterion, namely, Christ as the prototype (See Howard v. Hong and Edna H. Hong’s note on “Monasticism,” 109 110

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imitation of Christ not as a means of being judged righteous, but as a means of preserving the meaningfulness of grace and the “tensing exertion” needed for inward deepening.115 In this respect, Kierkegaard’s conception of Christ as example is “different from what Luther or the Middle Ages had in mind,” since, according to Kierkegaard, “Christ as pattern ought to jack up the price so enormously that the prototype [Forbilledet] itself teaches men to resort to grace.”116 Consequently, Kierkegaard does not so much seek a middle ground between medieval piety and Lutheran piety (as he understands both of those), but instead wants to articulate a dialectically rigorous religiousness more spiritually edifying than either of them, and one that he considers a truer expression of authentic Christian faith. viewed in this light, Kierkegaard understands his response to Luther in terms of a corrective to Luther’s own corrective. what makes this second corrective necessary, according to Kierkegaard, is the fact that Luther overstepped his legitimate role as a reformer of (medieval) Christianity by leading efforts to establish a new ecclesial status quo. Moreover, since within the emerging “protestant” churches the insistence upon the priority of grace was not adequately “dialectical” with respect to the demands of the law, such sola gratia Lutheranism resulted in what Kierkegaard labels a “reduction” of New Testament Christianity. Luther was right to re-emphasize the centrality of the Bible—on this Kierkegaard agrees. where he disagrees is in his insistence that Luther’s insufficiently dialectical prioritization of grace is not “what the New Testament understands by Christianity” but, to the contrary, “alters New Testament Christianity.”117 Far from “a return to original Christianity,” as Kierkegaard sees it, Luther’s variation on the doctrine of “election by grace” is actually a dogmatic accommodation to human anxiety in the face of the demands of the law.118 Kierkegaard does not hold Luther alone accountable for this accommodation, however, but places him in a long Augustinian tradition that ostensibly “reduces” New Testament Christianity to human scale. His account of this tradition of accommodation in a journal entry from 1854 warrants quotation in full: The idea that a man’s eternal salvation is to be decided by a striving in time, in this life, is so superhumanly heavy that it will kill a man even more surely than massive sunstroke. The weight of it is so great that it is impossible even to begin, for the moment in which one is going to begin is already a wasted moment—alas, and one single moment is enough for the decision of salvation, consequently to his damnation. I now interpret Augustine as having hit upon election by grace simply in order to avoid this difficulty; for in this case eternal salvation is not decided in relation to a striving. in JP 3, p. 822). For this reason, the suggestion that Kierkegaard was “essentially Catholic” seems to miss the point. See walter Lowrie’s description of the exchange between Karl Barth and Father przywara in the introduction to Attack Upon Christendom 1854–1855, princeton: princeton university press 1968, p. xvi. 115 SKS 26, 146–7, NB32:42 / JP 1, 602. 116 SKS 22, 241, NB12:162 / JP 3, 2503. 117 SKS 25, 476–7, NB30:112 / JP 3, 2551. 118 SKS 22, 386, NB14:70 / JP 3, 2507.

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Kierkegaard’s critique of the doctrine of election by grace is instructive on a number of fronts. For one thing, the critique applies not solely to Luther and fellow protestants, but implicates the longer Augustinian theological tradition as well. For another, his critique explicates the sense in which he thinks Luther’s undialectical prioritization of grace betrays a commitment to some criterion more sovereign than scripture, namely, the human desire for reassurance in the face of anxiety. Thirdly, Kierkegaard’s critique exposes Luther’s unwillingness (alleged unwillingness anyway) to admit that his manner of appealing to the doctrine of election by grace is “without foundation” in the New Testament. And, with respect to this unwillingness to admit to a “reduction” of Christianity, Kierkegaard’s marginal addition to the journal entry quoted above is even more pointed. “Instead of this human, bold forthrightness,” he adds, “we got this tragic, pusillanimous, as well as crafty, underhanded Bible interpreting which plagues and torments the Scriptures to find passages from which a tortured person can get what he wants.”120 Kierkegaard stops short of elucidating precisely what he means by “crafty, underhanded Bible interpreting,” but he takes up the matter again not too much later that year in a way that makes it clear that he locates the deficiency of Luther’s biblical interpretation in his undue emphasis on the letters of paul the Apostle. Echoing lines he wrote as early as 1849,121 Kierkegaard explains:

119 120 121

SKS 25, 476–7, NB30:112 / JP 3, 2551. SKS 25, 477, NB30:112.a / JP 3, 2552. See SKS 22, 386, NB14:70 / JP 3, 2507.

Martin Luther: Reform, Secularization, and the Question of His “True Successor” 199 [It] is easy to see that Luther’s preaching of Christianity changes Christianity’s life-view and world view. He has one-sidedly appropriated “the apostle” and goes so far—as he frequently does with this yardstick (turned the wrong way)—that he criticizes the gospels. If he does not find the apostle’s teaching in the gospel he concludes ergo this is no gospel. Luther does not seem to see that the apostle has already relaxed in relation to the gospels. And this wrong tack Luther made has been continued in protestantism, which has made Luther absolute. when we found the apostle to be more rigorous (which he is) than Luther, we concluded: Here the apostle is wrong, this is not pure gospel. In this way we have systematically, step by step, cheated—that is, attempted to cheat God out of the gospel by turning the whole relationship around.122

How many “steps” does Kierkegaard list within these two passages? The first step is the accommodation made by the apostle paul, who “has already relaxed in relation to the gospels.” Augustine is assigned responsibility for the second step, apparently because by “having hit upon election by grace” he gives the pauline emphasis on grace a doctrinal formulation.123 Then the third step, according to Kierkegaard, is Luther’s adoption of the sola gratia principle as the criterion for the proper interpretation of all scripture, such that the parts of scripture that apparently prioritize “works” (e.g., the epistle of James) receive criticism in the light of the doctrine of election by grace. Finally, Kierkegaard identifies the fourth step in this “reduction” with the protestant embrace of Lutheranism from the Reformation into Kierkegaard’s own day, when the criterion of the imitation of Christ and its dialectic with grace has been entirely forgotten, and Luther himself “has been made an apostle.”124 Thus, instead of “the New Testament view” (which, according to Kierkegaard, represents “becoming a Christian” in terms of “the utmost restlessness of spirit,” an intensity of “soul-agony” so pronounced that the imitation of Christ unto martyrdom is seen as a mitigation of the suffering), the secular culture of Lutheranism wrongly assumes that “Christianity exists to soothe and reassure.”125 Given the Reformation embrace of the humanist motto “ad fontes” (to the sources), Kierkegaard’s narration of the Reformation history in terms of “a modification of the essentially Christian,” rather than “a return to original Christianity,” reads like an irony of history.126 Kierkegaard’s implication of Paul in the first step in a long tradition of “reductions,” however, seems to warrant a caveat to this narrative. For even if it is true that Luther “one-sidedly draws paul forward and uses the gospels less,”127 there is still justification for the Reformation claim to be returning to the earliest written sources; from the perspective of canon-criticism, the letters of paul contribute in a central way to “what the New Testament understands by Christianity,”128 and from the perspective of historical-criticism, modern biblical scholarship dates the pauline epistles to an earlier period than any of the four 122 123 124 125 126 127 128

SKS 26, 166–7, NB32:67 / JP 3, 2554. SKS 25, 476–7, NB30:112 / JP 3, 2551. SKS 26, 426, NB36:27 / JP 3, 2556. SKS 25, 399–401, NB30:22 / JP 3, 2550. SKS 22, 386, NB14:70 / JP 3, 2507; italics added. Ibid. SKS 25, 476–7, NB30:112 / JP 3, 2551.

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canonical gospel accounts. Kierkegaard’s claim that paul reduces the gospel thus has a somewhat dubious status vis-à-vis the textual tradition to which he appeals. Regardless of the relative adequacy or inadequacy of Kierkegaard’s interpretation of “what the New Testament understands by Christianity,”129 however, our attention in this article is directed not so much toward Kierkegaard’s interpretation of the New Testament, as toward his criticism of Luther’s interpretation of New Testament faith. This contrast between what Kierkegaard takes to be the New Testament view of Christian faith and the Reformation reduction of that faith marks the point of greatest divergence between Kierkegaard’s conception of the Christian ideal, on the one hand, and the compromises of Lutheran Christendom, on the other, and is the vantage from which we need now to survey and assess the force, balance, and overall adequacy of Kierkegaard’s Lutherbild. III. Conclusion As early as 1845, two years prior to his admission that he had never “really” read anything by Luther,130 Kierkegaard alluded to a pronounced psychological character in Luther’s writings, insinuating that the reformer’s “mental state” shaped his interpretation of scripture. According to this early and cursory psychoanalytic sketch, “Luther makes dominant use of that which the New Testament uses very moderately” because of his spiritual uncertainties and his anguished conscience: when one reads Luther, he gets the impression of a wise and assured spirit who speaks with a decisiveness which is “gewaltig” [tremendous]. And yet it seems to me this assurance has something alarming about it, in fact an uncertainty. It is well known that a mental state frequently seeks a hiding place in its opposite. we bolster ourselves with strong words, and the words tend to become even stronger simply because we ourselves are vacillating. This is not some kind of deception; it is a pious attempt.131

Kierkegaard never again expresses this view so clearly. But if we relate these early psychoanalytic musings to our foregoing textual analysis, it is clear that even into the 1850s he continued to assess Luther’s interpretation of the gospel by referring it back to Luther’s personality. This finds expression (1) in Kierkegaard’s diagnosis that Luther “reduced” the gospel in order to assuage his anguished conscience, and (2) in his allegation that Luther “became a politician”132 because of a personal desire for some historical effect for his movement, a desire evidenced by his eagerness to accommodate political interests in order to overcome papal authority. With respect to the first of these, there is a certain sense in which Kierkegaard finds Luther’s “modification of the essentially Christian” both pardonable and innocuous.133 That is, as regards Luther personally, his prioritizing of grace and 129 130 131 132 133

Ibid. SKS 18, 267, JJ:380 / KJN 2, 247. Ibid. SKS 24, 144, NB22:80 / JP 3, 3686. SKS 22, 386, NB14:70 / JP 3, 2507.

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minimizing of works “is not a deception but a pious attempt.”134 Indeed, this is why Kierkegaard consistently speaks highly of Luther’s monastic trials and spiritual discipline. This discipline—this attempt—is precisely what “guarantees” that much of what Luther says about grace can be true.135 According to Kierkegaard, it was only by way of Luther’s “20 years of fear and trembling and spiritual trial [Anfægtelse]”136 that he could discover authentically that “no man can endure the anxiety [Angst] that his striving will decide his eternal salvation or eternal damnation” and that, consequently, God’s grace alone effects the resolution to this human dilemma.137 Given this, Kierkegaard apparently acknowledges the subjective validity for Luther of the hard-won insight that even the most rigorous spiritual discipline is ineffectual for justification. But Luther’s mistake, Kierkegaard thinks, was to publicize his own personal and consequent appropriation of grace, and to prescribe it universally as the preliminary movement of faith. It is one thing for Luther, who endured spiritual trials so dreadful that “there is hardly one individual in a generation who experiences anything like it,”138 to say, “No, it does not depend on this.”139 But what happens, Kierkegaard asks, when Luther encourages his followers (either in the age of reform or in “the present age”) to say the same thing? What happens when it is forgotten that Luther’s conclusion was rooted in a personal encounter between “an exceedingly anguished conscience” and “a condition in Christendom at a particular time and place”?140 Kierkegaard’s answer expresses clearly that he thinks it illegitimate when those “who have not even tried” preempt their own development by appropriating Luther’s solution to their lives. “Everyone will admit that there is an enormous difference,” he points out, “if someone at the peak of all scholarly achievement suddenly stops and says: No, it does not depend on science and scholarship—and if a bricklayer’s apprentice leaps up and says the same thing.” So why, he continues, do we not want to understand that there is this kind of difference when someone...after having fasted and disciplined his flesh for twenty years and consequently conscious of being able to do this and able at any time to do this if necessary, says: No, it does not depend on this—and when we say the same thing, we who have not even tried. Are there grounds for being suspicious about oneself if one has not tried at all?141

SKS 18, 267, JJ:380 / KJN 2, 247. Pap. XI–2 A 301 / JP 3, 2543: “The discipline which Luther underwent (in fact, it was carried to an immoderate degree) is precisely what guarantees that what he says about his inwardness can be truth.” See also SKS 23, 323, NB18:101 / JP 3, 2518. SKS 24, 396–7, NB24:120a. / JP 3, 2540. 136 Pap. XI–2 A 303 / JP 3, 2544. 137 SKS 25, 476–7, NB30:112 / JP 3, 2551. 138 Pap. XI–2 A 303 / JP 3, 2544. 139 SKS 24, 454, NB25:27 / JP 3, 2542. 140 SKS 25, 399–401, NB30:22 / JP 3, 2550. 141 SKS 24, 454, NB25:27 / JP 3, 2542. Simon podmore helpfully suggests that this comparative appraisal of the earlier and later Luther can be read to mean “Kierkegaard clearly felt greater affinity towards the anguished struggles of the young Luther than the pomposity favoured by orthodoxy’s image of the elder statesman....Specifically, it was Luther’s avowedly anguished struggles with Anfechtung which reverberated most with Kierkegaard’s own sense 134 135

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It is this difference in the manner of appropriating the sola gratia principle that both Luther (from “consideration for us poor human beings”142) and Lutheranism (in a selfdeceptive evasion of Christian requirements) seem to have forgotten, according to Kierkegaard. whether Luther intended it or not, therefore, the nub of the problem as Kierkegaard assesses it is Luther’s own dogmatic preemption of the “pious attempt,” along with the consequent gratitude of the one who has so attempted. Ironically, then, in view of the fact that Luther “purchased his situation of appreciation at an infinitely costly price,”143 the Lutheran prioritization of grace risks taking grace in vain and thus, Kierkegaard will say, “by his later life Luther accredited mediocrity.”144 were this the whole of the matter, it seems that Kierkegaard could acknowledge that Luther’s pre-emptive desire to assuage anguished consciences might be attributable to what we might call (anachronistically) Luther’s “pastoral psychology:” that is, the pastoral justification for sola gratia preaching is that “otherwise a man must despair.”145 But Kierkegaard also identifies a more pernicious element to Luther’s tendency to argue “from the human side,”146 and this element has more to do with the second part of Kierkegaard’s psychological diagnosis of Luther, namely, that his personal desire for historical effect led him to think politically. In this connection, Kierkegaard suggests that Luther deploys his sola scriptura criterion as a ruse: He himself best disproves his conception of the Bible, he who throws out the epistle of James. Why? Because it does not belong to the canon? No, this he does not deny. But on dogmatic grounds. Therefore he himself has a point of departure superior to the Bible, which probably was his idea, too, since he posited Scripture just before the conflict with the Pope, in order to have a firm basis, conceding a willingness to be convinced if they could convince him by the Scriptures. And this was all right, for what he wanted eliminated was the balderdash of tradition, which they no doubt would not find in the Bible.147

Kierkegaard’s charge here is that Luther, while professing to stand solely on the authority of scripture, in fact smuggles in his own standard “by which he determines what is a legitimate gospel” in the first place.148 In contrast to the rigors of authentic New Testament Christianity, as Kierkegaard conceives it, the reformer’s new norm— “first faith, then works”—has a wide popular appeal. No wonder “the contemporary age embraced his cause, joined the party,” Kierkegaard says (ignoring the fact that

of spiritual trial [Anfægtelse].” (Simon D. podmore, “The Lightning and the Earthquake,” The Heythrop Journal, vol. 47, 2006, pp. 562–78, see p. 564.) 142 SKS 26, 166–7, NB32:67 / JP 3, 2554. 143 Pap. XI–2 A 301 / JP 3, 2543. 144 SKS 25, 303–4, NB29:12 / JP 3, 2546. 145 SKS 25, 476–7, NB30:112 / JP 3, 2551. 146 Ibid. 147 SKS 22, 386, NB14:70 / JP 3, 2507. 148 SKS 24, 51, NB21:74 / JP 3, 2529. Kierkegaard sources this criterion to Luther’s “Sermon on the Gospel for the First Sunday in Advent” where the second sentence reads, “All Gospel [proclaims] first faith and then good works” (Sermons of Martin Luther, vol. 1, p.19; [Luther], En christelig Postille, vol. 1, p. 15).

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Luther was anathema in many populations), “Luther wants to topple the pope— bravo!”149 Kierkegaard is surely right that a determining factor in the rise of protestantism in the sixteenth century was the support garnered from princes and magistrates. And we should note that he occasionally waffles on this charge of Luther’s own responsibility in politicizing the Reformation; he sometimes appears to wonder whether Luther might simply have been politically naïve with respect to the motivations of his many powerful supporters with a “secular mentality.”150 was it simply the case that he was “taken in vain politically”151 by calculating nobles who understood that they could leverage Luther’s spiritual insights to cast off the ideological burdens of Rome? why then did Luther actively court their support with such writings as his address To the Christian Nobility of the German Nation Concerning the Reform of the Christian Estate (1520)? Kierkegaard correctly perceives that any portrait depicting Luther as an innocent lackey of the German nobility oversimplifies the reformer’s active solicitation of political support. No, if Luther was naïve, his naiveté had to do not with his objective, but rather with his assumptions about the relationship between secular and spiritual power, and in thinking he could harness the political aspirations of princes by bestowing them “emergency” powers without setting in place institutional structures for keeping these powers in check. But even had Luther been better able to regulate the powers of the nobility, Kierkegaard nonetheless thinks Luther’s objective of institutional reform was fundamentally misguided. He should have been “neutral toward the projection of changes in the external forms of the Church,” Kierkegaard asserts, “for that becomes mere politics or a general inclination for change, which simply is not Christianity.”152 ultimately, therefore, Kierkegaard holds Luther himself responsible for becoming “too much involved with secular things, which is why the fruit of the Reformation became politics and political development.”153 In this way, alongside Kierkegaard’s diagnosis of Luther’s reductive accommodation of the New Testament to human psychological frailty, Kierkegaard detects a desire on Luther’s part for worldly effect as well. This second form of accommodation is what Kierkegaard criticizes as Luther’s opportunistic collaboration with the secular authorities in the political expansion of the Reformation. And what is the ultimate result of Luther’s twofold confusion—that is, of his “reduction of Christianity,”154 and his “pure political bargaining”?155 Kierkegaard assesses the consequence as a complete and utter forgetfulness of “the mint-standard for being a reformer,” namely, that “the martyr is the highest, the true, and that coming out unscathed is something inferior,” as far as true Christianity is concerned.156 Thus, SKS 23, 152, NB16:87 / JP 3, 2514. SKS 24, 385, NB24:105 / JP 2, 1904: “O Luther, Luther, alas, the Reformation went as easily as it did because the ‘secular mentality’ understood ‘this is something for us.’ O, you honest man, why did you not suspect how sly we human beings are!” 151 SKS 23, 152, NB16:87 / JP 3, 2514; emphasis original. 152 SKS 24, 218, NB23:26 / JP 2, 2130. 153 SKS 20, 410, NB5:92 / JP 3, 2469. 154 Pap. XI–3 B 175 / JP 3, 3213. 155 SKS 23, 152, NB16:87 / JP 3, 2514. 156 SKS 25, 303–4, NB29:12 / JP 3, 2546. 149 150

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as Kierkegaard writes the history of the Reformation, what began in a mighty torrent of spiritual anguish terminates in a pointless trickle of worldly mire. For without “faith in martyrdom as having value in and by itself...Christianity runs downhill until, just as the Rhine ends in mud, it ends in the mud of politics.”157 But the attenuation of reform over the course of history, we read, was only a continuation of this same attenuation in the reformer’s own life. As Kierkegaard tells it: Although it is true that for some years [Luther] was salt, his later life was not devoid of pointlessness. The Table Talks are an example: a man of God sitting in placid comfort, ringed by admiring adorers who believe that if he simply breaks wind it is a revelation or the result of inspiration. But if he had this harmful influence even in his own generation, how much more in succeeding generations, when everything became thinner and thinner, worse and still worse, mimicking [Efterabelse]. By halting half-way, Luther debased the mint-standard for being a reformer and thereby gave birth in later generations to that mob, that rabble of nice cordial people who also want to be reformers a little. Furthermore, he gave birth to the confusion of being a reformer with the help of politics.158

If the history of the Reformation were to be written otherwise than as a story of increasing secularization, on this view, Luther would have needed to reject these alleged rabble-rousing ways, proclaim the life of Christ as the criterion for Christianity in all its soul-agonizing severity, and then stand just as firm against the Northern nobility and his would-be followers as he had stood against the papacy. Had Luther done this, Kierkegaard reasons, he would have avoided the secular “pointlessness” of the Reformation, because “pointlessness cannot set in” if an individual either remains “dangerous” to established interests, or if “he is snatched away in a violent death”159 at the hands of the establishment. But since Luther instead spent his later years amidst adoring admirers, Kierkegaard thinks he should have at least confessed that to be a reformer in this “halfway” fashion was not something to be celebrated and exploited by “secularity,” but was actually “something inferior” to authentic Christian faith.160 presumably, this confession would have softened Kierkegaard’s indignation significantly. Kierkegaard denies that Luther ever acknowledged his “mediocrity,” however, and so pronounces a disquieting summary judgment on the life of the reformer: “Luther has actually done incalculable harm by not becoming a martyr.”161 Is Kierkegaard unfair to Luther? Arguably, Kierkegaard’s use of martyrdom as the criterion with which he critiques Luther’s accommodations of Christianity is quite Lutheran; Luther’s attitude towards what he considered true martyrdom, namely, the ultimate sacrifice of those who followed the teachings and example of Jesus, is at the heart of his “theology of the cross.”162 Moreover, from the vantage SKS 25, 236, NB28:26 / JP 4, 4220. SKS 25, 303–4, NB29:12 / JP 3, 2546. 159 Ibid. 160 Ibid. 161 Ibid. 162 See Robert Kolb, “God’s Gift of Martyrdom: The Early Reformation understanding of Dying for the Faith,” Church History, vol. 64, 1995, pp. 399–411, see p. 401. See also 157 158

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point of the early twenty-first century, it seems clear that Kierkegaard offers up a few “reductions” of his own. Specifically, since Kierkegaard focuses almost exclusively on the themes that dominated Luther’s early years—the so-called Reformation principle, and the conflict with Rome—we find scant recognition of important confrontations between Luther and his other opponents in subsequent years. And, while the conflict with the papacy on one front cannot be minimized, knowledge of the additional protracted disputes with the radical antinomians on the other front and, indeed, with the secular princes within his ranks, helps to sensitize us to the sheer complexity of Reformation history. In this light, Kierkegaard’s contention that “the battle was so easy for Luther”163 simply fails to recognize that Luther’s battles were many, and they were rarely all that easy. On the one hand, without dismissing the possibility that Kierkegaard’s penchant for polemic leads him to oversimplify Luther’s situation, it is important to see how Kierkegaard’s restricted reading of Luther’s writings partially accounts for this historical reduction. That is to say, while his primary (and almost exclusive) reliance on the postils—and the Church Postil in particular—afforded him a rich and terse exposition of the major themes and arguments of Luther’s theology, the fact that the Church Postil dates to 1521 means the collection gives no indication of the challenges that Luther faced with the expansion and consolidation of the evangelical movement. Kierkegaard’s oversimplification of the historical context seems not tendentious, therefore, but rather incompletely informed. On the other hand, while this broader understanding enriches our appreciation of the historical convolutions of the sixteenth century, it fails to controvert Kierkegaard’s central charge that the history of the Reformation is one of political compromise and increasing secularization. Indeed, it only indicates further entanglements. Given any political difficulty or contingency in Luther’s struggle that a later reader might wish to flag, Kierkegaard can simply refer back to his central charge that Christian faith becomes attenuated precisely when one focuses on the contingent difficulties instead of the absolute. This is not to endorse Kierkegaard’s reading of Luther, however, much less to argue that it is entirely consistent. For while our source-critical examination allows us to move beyond Sløk’s claim that Kierkegaard’s knowledge of Luther was of a “strangely accidental character” based on “highly arbitrary associations,”164 we are still left with the basic problem that Kierkegaard at times undercuts his prevailing allegation that Luther is “muddleheaded” and “dialectically confused” with subsequent eulogies on Luther’s dialectical sophistication. For example, whereas in 1848 Kierkegaard remarks on Luther’s “usual dialectical unclarity,”165 in 1849 he laments “the tragedy of Christendom [that has] removed the dialectical element Craig Hinkson, “Luther and Kierkegaard: Theologians of the Cross,” International Journal of Systematic Theology, vol. 3, 2001, pp. 27–45; and Lee C. Barrett, “The Joy in the Cross: Kierkegaard’s Appropriation of Lutheran Christology in ‘The Gospel of Sufferings,’ ” in Upbuilding Discourses in Various Spirits, ed. by Robert L. perkins, Macon, Georgia: Mercer university press, 2005 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 15), pp. 257–85. 163 SKS 23, 152, NB16:87 / JP 3, 2514. 164 Sløk, “Kierkegaard and Luther,” p. 85–6. 165 SKS 21, 171, NB8:58 / JP 3, 2474.

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from Luther’s doctrine of faith, so that it has become a cloak for sheer paganism and Epicureanism. we completely forget that Luther urged faith in contrast to a fantastically exaggerated asceticism.”166 Or consider that when Kierkegaard later assigns Luther primary responsibility for the politicization and secularization of protestant Christendom, he gainsays his more subtle insight that Luther’s own sermons articulate a vision of Christian faith at complete odds with nineteenthcentury Danish Lutheranism: “Luther’s way in its essential truth, with its more precise understanding, is infinitely too high, much too intended for ‘spirit,’ ever to become really popular.”167 Finally, what do we make of Kierkegaard’s almost giddy suggestion in 1849 and again in 1850 that it would be clever to deliver one of Luther’s sermons “word for word” but without attribution, or to reissue excerpts from his postils, in order to censure the Lutheranism of his day and “see how furious the clergy would become”?168 “I could be tempted,” he notes in the second of these entries, “to take Luther’s book of sermons and extract a great many sentences and ideas, all of which are marked in my copy, and publish them in order to show how far the preaching nowadays is from Christianity, so that it shall not be said that I am the one who hits upon exaggerations.”169 On the whole, in light of these numerous and remarkable swerves in Kierkegaard’s assessment of Luther and his influence, it seems appropriate to wonder whether Kierkegaard, too, does not sometimes strike too hard.170 If it is possible to see Kierkegaard’s basic admiration for Luther showing through his not infrequent spikes of antipathy, then perhaps we can conjecture that he sometimes expresses himself hyperbolically in formulating his own “corrective” to the historical effects of Luther’s corrective. Indeed, within a year of asserting that Luther incurred “incalculable harm” by not becoming a martyr, Kierkegaard explicitly denies any intention of prompting someone literally to renounce everything. “No,” he says, “I merely wish to contribute to our coming into relationship to truth by means of confessions; I hold to [a] simple thing to do: that when one does not [renounce everything], he confesses that it is because he does not have the strength to do it, is too weak to do it, still clings too much to the world.”171 Thus, if in his private reflections Kierkegaard sometimes appears to overcorrect for Luther’s Reformation principle, then perhaps the reason for that derives from his belief that “Luther’s true successor will come to resemble the exact opposite of Luther, because Luther came after the preposterous overstatement of asceticism, whereas he will come after the horrible fraud to which Luther’s view gave birth.”172 And just as Luther evoked Ecclesiastes to ring the changes on the law–gospel dialectic—“There is a time to SKS 21, 323, NB10:132 / JP 3, 2484. See also the 1851 comment in which Kierkegaard affirms, “In the sermon on the Epistle for the 11th Sunday after Trinity, Luther quite rightly, as usual, characterizes faith” (SKS 24, 209, NB23:7 / JP 3, 2532; italics added). 167 SKS 24, 396, NB24:120 / JP 3, 2539. 168 SKS 22, 58, NB11:104 / JP 3, 2493. 169 SKS 23, 304, NB18:76 / JP 3, 2516. 170 Cf. SKS 23, 368, NB19:57.b / JP 3, 2522: “On the whole Luther struck too hard. He should have done everything to remove self-righteousness from...works and then otherwise left them standing.” 171 Pap. XI–2 A 301 / JP 3, 2543. 172 SKS 23, 32, NB18:101 / JP 3, 2518. 166

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hear the Law and a time to despise the Law. There is a time to hear the Gospel and a time to know nothing about the Gospel. Let the Law go away now, and let the Gospel come; for this is the time to hear the Gospel, not the Law”173—so too can we hear the reverberations of reform when Kierkegaard writes, “now in our time it is clear that what must come to the fore is the aspect of Christ as prototype.”174

173 174

Luther’s Works, vol. 26, p. 117. SKS 21, 296, NB10:76 / JP 3, 2481.

Bibliography I. Luther’s Works in The Auction Catalogue of Kierkegaard’s Library Dr. Morten Luthers liden Cathechismus. Nøiagtig oversat efter Grund-Texten, Copenhagen: det Kong. vaisenhus Forlag 1849 (ASKB 189). Des Hocherleuteten Mannes Gottes D. Martin Luthers Geist- und Sinn-reiche auserlesene Tisch-Reden und andere erbauliche Gespräche...Und nun nebst einigen merckwürdigen Propheceiungen und Belehrungen des sel. Mannes in diesem bequemen Format, Als ein Anhang zu denen Halfeldischen Auszügen, vols. 1–2, ed. by Benjamin Lindnern, Salfeld: wiedemannen 1745 (ASKB 225– 226). En Christelig Postille, sammendragen af Dr. Morten Luthers Kirke- og Huuspostiller. Efter Benjamin Lindners tydske Samling, new Danish trans. by Jörgen Thisted, Copenhagen: den wahlske Boghandling 1828 (ASKB 283). Luthers Werke. Vollständige Auswahl seiner Hauptschriften. Mit historischen Einleitungen, Anmerkungen und Registern, vols. 1–10, ed. by Otto v. Gerlach, Berlin: G. Eichler 1840–41 (ASKB 312–316). “Om den verdslige Øvrigheds Magt,” Dansk Kirketidende, vols. 1–8, ed. by C.J. Brandt and R.Th. Fenger, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1845–53, vol. 6, no. 298, columns 395–409 (ASKB 321–325). Die Deutsche Theologie, eine sehr alte, für jeden Christen äußerst wichtige Schrift, mit einer Vorrede von Dr. Martin Luther und dem gewesenen Generalsuperintendenten Johann Arnd, new ed. by Friedrich Conrad Krüger, Lemgo: Meyer 1822 (ASKB 634). Dr. Martin Luthers Werke. In einer das Bedürfniß der Zeit berücksichtigenden Auswahl, vols. 1–10, 2nd enlarged ed., Hamburg: Friedrich perthes 1827–28 (ASKB A I 100–104). (trans.), Die Bibel oder die ganze Heilige Schrift des alten und des neuen Testaments, nach der deutschen Uebersetzung D. Martin Luthers, [in two parts], Carlsruhe and Leipzig: Expedition der Carlsruher Bibel 1836 (ASKB 3). (trans.), Die Bibel oder die ganze heilige Schrift alten und neuen Testaments, nach der deutschen Uebersetzung Dr. Martin Luthers. Mit Summarien von Johann Philipp Fresenius, Frankfurt am Main: Brönner 1842 (ASKB 4). (trans.), Die Bibel oder die ganze heilige Schrift alten und neuen Testaments, nach der deutschen Uebersetzung Dr. Martin Luthers, Frankfurt am Main: Brönner 1845 (ASKB 5).

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II. Works in The Auction Catalogue of Kierkegaard’s Library that Discuss Luther Balle, Nicolai Edinger, Lærebog i den Evangelisk-christelige Religion indrettet til Brug i de danske Skoler, Copenhagen: Jens Hostrup Schultz 1824 [1791], (ASKB 183). Baur, Ferdinand Christian, Die christliche Gnosis oder die christliche ReligionsPhilosophie in ihrer geschichtlichen Entwicklung, Tübingen: C.F. Osiander 1835, p. 555; p. 558 (ASKB 421). —— Die christliche Lehre von der Versöhnung in ihrer geschichtlichen Entwicklung von der ältesten Zeit bis auf die neueste, Tübingen: Osiander 1838, pp. 289–90; p. 298; p. 305; p. 307; p. 350; p. 361; p. 366; p. 372; p. 414; p. 454; p. 462; p. 515; p. 552; p. 562 (ASKB 423). [Kein Berliner], “Luther als Schiedsrichter zwischen Strauß und Feuerbach,” in Anekdota zur neuesten deutschen Philosophie und Publicistik, vols. 1–2, ed. by Arnold Ruge, zürich and winterthur: verlag des literarischen Comptoirs 1843, vol. 2, pp. 206–8 (ASKB 753). Bretschneider, Karl Gottlieb, Handbuch der Dogmatik der evangelisch-lutherischen Kirche oder Versuch einer beurtheilenden Darstellung der Grundsätze, welche diese Kirche in ihren symbolischen Schriften über die christliche Glaubenslehre ausgesprochen hat, mit Vergleichung der Glaubenslehre in den Bekenntnißschriften der reformirten Kirche, vols. 1–2, 4th revised and enlarged ed., Leipzig: Johann Ambrosius Barth 1838 [3rd revised and enlarged ed., cf. ASKB A I 25–26], (ASKB 437–438). Brøchner, Hans, Nogle Bemærkninger om Daaben, foranledigede ved Professor Martensens Skrift: “Den christelige Daab,” Copenhagen: p.G. philipsen 1843, pp. 13–18; p. 58 (ASKB u 27). Carriere, Moriz, Die philosophische Weltanschauung der Reformationszeit in ihren Beziehungen zur Gegenwart, Stuttgart and Tübingen: J.G. Cotta’scher verlag 1847, pp. 187–95 (ASKB 458). Clausen, Henrik Nicolai (ed.), Den Augsburgske Confession, oversat og belyst ved historisk-dogmatisk Udvikling, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1851 (ASKB 387). —— Det Nye Testaments Hermeneutik, Copenhagen: Jens Hostrup Schultz 1840, p. 264 (ASKB 468). —— Confessio Augustana invariata Inter 3. solennia secularia emendatorum sacrorum Jubente augustissimo rege Friderico VI: In usum ecclesiarum Danicarum, ad fidem: Ed. Melanchthonianae principis impressa, Copenhagen: Schultz 1817 (ASKB 469). —— Den Augsburgske Confession, oversat og belyst ved historisk-dogmatisk Udvikling, trans. and ed. by Henrik Nicolai Clausen, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1854 (ASKB 387). Flögel, Karl Friedrich, Geschichte der komischen Litteratur, vols. 1–4, Liegnitz and Leipzig: David Siegert 1784–87, vol. 1, p. 215; p. 222; p. 257; vol. 2, pp. 220–38 (ASKB 1396–1399). Frauenstädt, Julius, Die Naturwissenschaft in ihrem Einfluß auf Poesie, Religion, Moral und Philosophie, Leipzig: F.A. Brockhaus 1855, p. 145 (ASKB 516).

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Gad, Chr., Den evangelisk-christelige Religion efter den Augsburgske Troesbekjendelse. En Lærebog til Brug ved høiere Underviisning og for tænkende Christne, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1849 (ASKB 184). Grashof, J.w., “Dr. M. Luthers Bibeloversættelse i dens Forhold til vor Tids Fornødenheder,” Tidsskrift for udenlandsk theologisk Litteratur, vols. 1–20, ed. by Henrik Nicolai Clausen and Matthias Hagen Hohlenberg, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1833–52, vol. 4, 1836, pp. 530–71 (ASKB u 29). Guerike, Heinrich Ernst Ferdinand, Handbuch der Kirchengeschichte, vols. 1–2, 3rd revised and enlarged ed., Halle: in der Gebauerschen Buchhandlung 1838, vol. 1, p. 579; pp. 593–706; vol. 2, pp. 709–32; p. 741; p. 751; p. 761; p. 767; p. 774; p. 785; p. 798; p. 806; pp. 808–9; pp. 811–12; p. 821; p. 830; p. 833; pp. 836– 8; pp. 842–50 passim; p. 862; pp. 871ff.; p. 878; p. 883; p. 893; pp. 898–900; pp. 1005–11 passim; p. 1015; p. 1018; p. 1022; pp. 1025–6; p. 1057; p. 1083; p. 1091; p. 1176 (ASKB 158-159). Hahn, August (ed.), Lehrbuch des christlichen Glaubens, Leipzig: Friedrich Christian wilhelm vogel 1828, p. 28; p. 74; p. 114; p. 139; p. 186; p. 193; p. 363; pp. 384ff.; p. 452; p. 467; p. 541; p. 564; p. 567; pp. 575–9 passim; p. 603 (ASKB 535). Hansen, M. Mørk, Populær Fremstilling af Kirkens Historie for tænkende Christne, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1848, pp. 163–76; pp. 188ff. (ASKB 167). Hase, Karl, Hutterus redivivus oder Dogmatik der evangelisch-lutherischen Kirche. Ein dogmatisches Repertorium für Studirende, 4th revised ed., Leipzig: Breitkopf und Härtel 1839, p. 65; pp. 85–6.; p. 91; p. 95; p. 159; p. 217; p. 272; p. 293; p. 306; p. 319; pp. 334ff. (ASKB 581). —— Kirkehistorie, vols. 1–7, trans. by C. winther and T. Schorn, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1837, pp. 407ff.; pp. 426–7; pp. 441–2; p. 483 (ASKB 160–166). Heiberg, Johan Ludvig, Om Philosophiens Betydning for den nuværende Tid. Et Indbydelses-Skrift til en Række af philosophiske Forelæsninger, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1833, pp. 50–1 (ASKB 568). [Herder, Johann Gottfried von], Johann Gottfried von Herder’s sämmtliche Werke. Zur Philosophie und Geschichte, vols. 1–22, Stuttgart and Tübingen: J.G. Cotta’sche Buchhandlung 1827–30, vol. 13, pp. 96–101 (ASKB 1695–1705; see also ASKB A I 114–124). Krüger, Friedrich Conrad (ed.), Die Deutsche Theologie, eine sehr alte, für jeden Christen äußerst wichtige Schrift, mit einer Vorrede von Dr. Martin Luther und dem gewesenen Generalsuperintendenten Johann Arnd, new ed., Lemgo: Meyersche Hof-Buchhandlung 1822 (ASKB 634). [Leibniz, Gottfried wilhelm], God. Guil. Leibnitii Opera philosophica, quæ exstant latina gallica germanica omnia, vols. 1–2, ed. by Johann Eduard Erdmann, Berlin 1839–40, vol. 2, p. 483; p. 493; p. 497; p. 503 (ASKB 620). Lomler, F.w., G.F. Lucius, J. Rust, L. Sackreuter, and Ernst zimmermann (eds.), Geist aus Luther’s Schriften oder Concordanz der Ansichten und Urtheile des großen Reformators über die wichtigen Gegenstände des Glaubens, der Wissenschaft und des Lebens, vols. 1–4, Darmstadt: Karl wilhelm Leske 1827– 31 (ASKB 317–320). Luplau, Ludvig Frederik, Historie om Reformationens Indførelse i Danmark, eller en kort og sandfærdig Underviisning om, hvorledes Pavens falske Christendom

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blev afskaffet her i Landet nu for netop 300 Aar siden, og derimod den sande evangelisk-lutherske Christendom blev indført, Copenhagen: J.D. Qvist 1836, pp. 25–33 (ASKB A II 213). Marheineke, philipp, Lehrbuch des christlichen Glaubens und Lebens für denkende Christen und zum Gebrauch in den oberen Klassen an den Gymnasien, 2nd revised ed., Berlin: in der Nicolai’schen Buchhandlung 1836, pp. 37–8; p. 56; p. 87 (ASKB 257). Martensen, Hans Lassen, De Autonomia conscientiæ sui humanæ in theologiam dogmaticam nostri temporis introducta, Copenhagen: J.D. Quist 1837, p. 48; p. 99 (ASKB 648). —— Den menneskelige Selvbevidstheds Autonomie i vor Tids dogmatiske Theologie, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1841, p. 40; p. 80 (ASKB 651, translation of ASKB 648, cf. also ASKB A I 41). —— Den christelige Dogmatik, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1849, p. 44; p. 74; p. 79; p. 85; p. 104; p. 172; p. 222; p. 294; p. 298; p. 356; p. 363; p. 386, note; p. 388; pp. 507–8; p. 512; pp. 522–3 (ASKB 653). —— Den danske Folkekirkes Forfatningsspørgsmaal, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1851, p. 73; p. 78 (ASKB 655). Meiners, Christoph, Lebensbeschreibungen berühmter Männer aus den Zeiten der Wiederherstellung der Wissenschaften, vols. 1–3, zürich: Orell, Getzner, Füßli und Compagnie 1795–97, vol. 2, p. 298; vol. 3, p. 85; p. 316; p. 319; p. 323; p. 325; p. 327; pp. 345–6; p. 387; p. 487; p. 535; p. 554 (ASKB 1951–1951b). [Montaigne, Michael de], Michael Montaigne’s Gedanken und Meinungen über allerley Gegenstände, ins Deutsche übersetzt, vols. 1–7, Berlin: F.T. Lagarde 1793–99, vol. 3, p. 256; vol. 4, p. 356 (ASKB 681–687). Müller, Julius, Die christliche Lehre von der Sünde, vols. 1–2, 3rd revised and enlarged ed., Breslau: Josef Max und Komp. 1849, vol. 1, pp. 299–318 (ASKB 689–690). [Münscher, wilhelm], Dr. Wilhelm Münschers Lærebog i den christelige Kirkehistorie, til Brug ved Forelæsninger, trans. by Fred. Münter, revised and ed. by Jens Möller, Copenhagen: Trykt paa universitets-Boghandler F. Brummers Forlag 1831, pp. 209ff.; p. 278 (ASKB 168). Mynster, Jakob peter, Blandede Skrivter, vols. 1–3, Copenhagen: Gyldendal 1852–53 [vols. 4–6, Copenhagen: Gyldendal 1855–57], vol. 1, p. 6; p. 46; p. 127; p. 316; p. 323; p. 329; p. 373; p. 386; p. 401; p. 406; p. 410; p. 435; p. 463; p. 472; vol. 2, pp. 40–2; pp. 62–72; p. 141; p. 205; vol. 3, p. 59; p. 188 (ASKB 358–363). Nielsen, Rasmus, De speculativa historiæ sacræ tractandæ methodo commentatio, Copenhagen: Tengnagel 1840, p. 37; p. 58, note; p. 61, note; pp. 62–3; p. 66; p. 70, note (ASKB 697). —— Forelæsningsparagrapher til Kirkehistoriens Philosophie. Et Schema for Tilhørere, Copenhagen: p.G. philipsens Forlag 1843, pp. 60–2 (ASKB 698). —— Evangelietroen og den moderne Bevidsthed. Forelæsninger over Jesu Liv, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1849 (ASKB 700). —— Evangelietroen og Theologien. Tolv Forelæsninger holdte ved Universitetet i Kjøbenhavn i Vinteren 1849–50, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1850, p. 113; p. 117 (ASKB 702).

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petersen, August, Die Idee der christlichen Kirche. Zur wissenschaftlichen Beantwortung der Lebensfrage unserer Zeit. Ein theologischer Versuch, vols. 1– 3, Leipzig: vogel 1839–46, vol. 3, pp. 299–310; pp. 417–32 (ASKB 717–719). petersen, N.M., Dr. Martin Luthers Levnet. Udgivet af Selskabet for Trykkefrihedens Brug, Copenhagen: Trykt i det Brünnische Bogtrykkeri 1840 (ASKB A II 193– 194). [Richter, Johann paul Friedrich], Jean paul, Vorschule der Aesthetik nebst einigen Vorlesungen in Leipzig über die Parteien der Zeit, vols. 1–3, 2nd revised ed., Stuttgart and Tübingen: J.G. Cotta’sche Buchhandlung 1813, vol. 2, p. 605 (ASKB 1381–1383). Rudelbach, Andreas Gottlob, Den evangeliske Kirkeforfatnings Oprindelse og Princip, dens Udartning og dens mulige Gjenreisning, fornemmelig i Danmark. Et udførligt kirkeretligt og kirkehistorisk Votum for virkelig Religionsfrihed, Copenhagen: p.G. philipsen 1849 (ASKB 171). —— Reformation, Lutherthum und Union. Eine historisch-dogmatische Apologie der Lutherischen Kirche und ihres Lehrbegriffs, Leipzig: Bernh. Tauchnitz jun. 1839 (ASKB 751). —— Om det borgerlige Ægteskab. Bidrag til en alsidig, upartisk Bedømmelse af denne Institution, nærmest fra Kirkens Standpunkt, Copenhagen: Otto Schwartz 1851, pp. 36–44 passim; p. 51; p. 67; pp. 71–2 (ASKB 752). —— Om Psalme-Literaturen og Psalmebogs-Sagen, Historisk-kritiske Undersøgelser, vol. 1, Copenhagen: C.G. Iversen 1854, pp. 128–32; pp. 134–5; p. 145; pp. 192–5; p. 198; p. 241; pp. 266–70; p. 408; pp. 511–12 [vol. 2, 1856] (ASKB 193). Schleiermacher, Friedrich, Der christliche Glaube nach den Grundsä[t]zen der evangelischen Kirche im Zusammenhange dargestellt, vols. 1–2, 3rd ed., Berlin: G. Reimer 1835–36 (vols. 3–4, in Friedrich Schleiermacher’s sämmtliche Werke, Erste Abtheilung. Zur Theologie, Berlin: G. Reimer 1834–64 (some of the volumes were published in Berlin: August Herbig)) (ASKB 258). Schopenhauer, Arthur, Die Welt als Wille und Vorstellung, vols. 1–2, Leipzig: F.A. Brockhaus 1844; vol. 1, pp. 458–9; vol. 2, p. 578; p. 600; p. 620; p. 622 (ASKB 773–773a). —— Parerga und Paralipomena: kleine philosophische Schriften, vols. 1–2, Berlin: A.w. Hayn 1851, vol. 2, p. 287 (ASKB 774–775). Stang, Christian Franz Gottlieb, Martin Luther: sein Leben und Wirken, Stuttgart: Literatur-Comptoir 1838 (ASKB 790). Steffens, Henrich, Caricaturen des Heiligsten: in zwei Theilen, vols. 1–2, Leipzig: F.A. Brockhaus 1819–21, vol. 1, p. 387 (ASKB 793–794). —— Was ich erlebte. Aus der Erinnerung niedergeschrieben, vols. 1–10, Breslau: Josef Max und Comp. 1840–44, vol. 7, p. 257; vol. 8, p. 336; vol. 9, p. 67; vol. 10, p. 78; pp. 113–14; p. 135; p. 155; p. 162 (ASKB 1834–1843). [Sulzer, Johann George], Johann George Sulzers vermischte philosophische Schriften. Aus den Jahrbüchern der Akademie der Wissenschaften zu Berlin gesammelt, vols. 1–2, Leipzig: weidmanns Erben und Reich 1773–81, vol. 1, p. 130 (ASKB 807–808).

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—— Allgemeine Theorie der Schönen Künste, in einzeln, nach alphabetischer Ordnung der Kunstwörter auf einander folgenden, Artikeln abgehandelt, vols. 1– 4 and a register volume, 2nd revised ed., Leipzig: weidmannsche Buchhandlung 1792–99, vol. 2, p. 196; vol. 3, p. 469; vol. 4, p. 200 (ASKB 1365–1369). Thisted, Jørgen (ed.), For Christne. Et Tidsskrift, vols. 1–6, Copenhagen: J.C. Elmquist’sche Bogtrykkeri 1823–25, vol. 1, pp. 78–88; pp. 177–85; pp. 225–36; vol. 2, pp. 167–79 (ASKB 364–369). Trendelenburg, Adolf, Logische Untersuchungen, vols. 1–2, Berlin: G. Bethge 1840, vol. 2, p. 125 (ASKB 843). Twesten, August Detlef Christian, Vorlesungen über die Dogmatik der EvangelischLutherischen Kirche: nach dem Compendium des Herrn Dr. W.M.L. de Wette, vols. 1–2, 4th ed., Hamburg: Friedrich perthes 1837–38, vol. 1 [vol. 1, 1838; vol. 2, 1837] (ASKB 849–849a). zeuthen, Ludvig, Humanitet betragtet fra et christeligt Standpunkt, med stadigt Hensyn til den nærværende Tid, Copenhagen: Gyldendal 1846, p. 33; p. 89 (ASKB 915). III. Secondary Literature on Kierkegaard’s Relation to Luther and Lutheranism Barrett, Lee C., “Faith, works, and the uses of the Law: Kierkegaard’s Appropriation of Lutheran Doctrine,” in For Self-Examination and Judge For Yourself!, ed. by Robert L. perkins, Macon, Georgia: Mercer university press 2002 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 21) pp. 77–109. —— “The Joy in the Cross: Kierkegaard’s Appropriation of Lutheran Christology in ‘The Gospel of Sufferings,’ ” in Upbuilding Discourses in Various Spirits, ed. by Robert L. perkins, Macon, Georgia: Mercer university press 2005 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 15), pp. 257–85. Bertelsen, Otto, “Kierkegaard og Luther,” in his Dialogen mellem Grundtvig og Kierkegaard, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1990, pp. 164–5. Bohlin, Torsten, “Kierkegaards dogmatiska åskådning i belysning av Luthers synd- och trosuppfattning,” in his Kierkegaards dogmatiska åskådning i dess historiska sammanhang, Stockholm: Svenska kyrkans diakonistyrelses bokförlag 1925, pp. 441–87 (in German as “Kierkegaards dogmatische Anschauung im Lichte der Auffassung Luthers von Sünde und Glauben,” in his Kierkegaards dogmatische Anschauung in ihrem geschichtlichen Zusammenhange, Gütersloh: C. Bertelsmann 1927, pp. 534–90). —— “ ‘Krisens teologi.’ Luther och Kierkegaard,” in his Tro och uppenbarelse. En studie till teologiens kris och “krisens teologi,” Stockholm: Diakonistyr. 1926, pp. 100–54. —— “Luther, Kierkegaard und die dialektische Theologie,” in his Glaube und Offenbarung. Eine kritische Studie zur dialektischen Theologie, Berlin: Furcheverlag 1928, pp. 98–148. Bragstad, William R., “Luther’s Influence on Training in Christianity,” Lutheran Quarterly, vol. 28, 1976, pp. 257–71.

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Brun, Jean, “Kierkegaard et Luther,” Revue de Métaphysique et de Morale, vol. 75, 1970, pp. 301–8. Bruun, Søren, Viljens dialektik. En studie i forholdet mellem vilje og synd hos Søren Kierkegaard under inddragelse af K.E. Løgstrup og Martin Luther, ph.D. Thesis, university of Copenhagen 2003. Burgess, Andrew J., “Kierkegaard’s Concept of Redoubling and Luther’s Simul Justus,” in Works of Love,” ed. by Robert L. perkins, Macon, Georgia: Mercer university press 1999 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 16), pp. 39–56. Congar, M.J., “Kierkegaard et Luther,” Foi et vie, vol. 35, no. 64, 1934, pp. 712– 17. Diem, Hermann, “Kierkegaard und Luther,” in his Die Existenzdialektik von Sören Kierkegaard, zollikon-zürich: Evangelischer verlag 1950, pp. 155–82. Dietz, walter, “Servum Arbitrium: zur Konzeption der willensunfreiheit bei Luther, Schopenhauer und Kierkegaard,” Neue Zeitschrift für Systematische Theologie und Religionsphilosophie, vol. 42, 2000, pp. 181–94. Eller, vernard, “Luther Criticism,” in his Kierkegaard and Radical Discipleship, princeton, New Jersey: princeton university press 1968, pp. 301–6. Fabro, Cornelio, “Kierkegaard e Lutero: incontro-scontro,” Humanitas, vol. 39, no. 1, 1984, pp. 5–12. Ferreira, M. Jamie, Love’s Grateful Striving, Oxford: Oxford university press 2001, p. 11; p. 19; p. 23; pp. 32–3; p. 38; p. 75; p. 78; p. 80; p. 82; p. 86; p. 119; pp. 121–2; p. 148; p. 154; p. 162; p. 164; pp. 172–3; p. 190; p. 198; pp. 202–3; p. 237; pp. 241–2; p. 245; pp. 247–8; pp. 251–3; p. 258; p. 285, note 9. Geismar, Eduard, “Wie urteilte Kierkegaard über Luther?” Jahrbuch der Luthergesellschaft, 1928, pp. 1–27. —— “Kierkegaard og Luther. To Foredrag,” Monatsschrift für Pastoraltheologie, 1929, pp. 227–41. Grau, Gerd-Günther, “Die historische Destruktion: vom Luthersichen Korrektiv zur protestantischen Korrektur des Klosters,” in his Die Selbstauflösung des christlichen Glaubens. Eine religionsphilosophische Studie über Kierkegaard, Frankfurt am Main: G. Schulte-Bulmke 1963, pp. 176–224. Hall, Amy Laura, Kierkegaard and the Treachery of Love, Cambridge: Cambridge university press 2002, p. 12; p. 14; pp. 16–22; pp. 37–8; p. 40; pp. 43–5; p. 54; p. 102; p. 132; p. 161; p. 201, note 6; p. 202, note 9; p. 205, note 38; p. 216, note 23. Hampson, Daphne, Christian Contradictions: the Structures of Lutheran and Catholic Thought, Cambridge: Cambridge university press 2001. Hauschildt, Friedrich, “Lutherische züge in Søren Kierkegaards gottesdienstlicher Rede ‘Bewahre deinen Fuss, wenn du zum Haue des Herren gehst,’ ” in his (ed.) Approach to Kierkegaard. Workshop-Reports, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1992 (Liber Academiae Kierkegaardiensis, vol. 9), pp. 18–52. Hess, M.w., “Browning and Kierkegaard as Heirs of Luther,” Christian Century, vol. 80, 1963, pp. 799–801. Heymel, Michael, “Kierkegaard und Der junge Mann Luther (E.H. Erikson),” in his Das Humane lernen. Glaube und Erziehung bei Sören Kierkegaard,

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Göttingen: vandenhoeck & Ruprecht 1988 (Forschungen zur Kirchen- und Dogmengeschichte, vol. 40), pp. 168–82. Hinkson, Craig, “Luther and Kierkegaard: Theologians of the Cross,” International Journal of Systematic Theology, vol. 3, 2001, pp. 27–45. —— “will the Real Martin Luther please Stand up! Kierkegaard’s view of Luther versus the Evolving perceptions of the Tradition,” in For Self-Examination and Judge for Yourself, ed. by Robert L. perkins, Macon, Georgia: Mercer 2002 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 21), pp. 37–76, see pp. 45–6. Jensen, Finn Gredal, “Om Martin Luthers oversættelse af Det Nye Testamente—med et sideblik til Erasmus af Rotterdams Novum Instrumentum,” Dansk Teologisk Tidsskrift, vol. 68, no. 2, 2005, pp. 97–108; p. 97, note; p. 107, note. Jolivet, Regis, “Kierkegaard and Luther,” in his Introduction to Kierkegaard, trans. by w.H. Barber, London: Frederick Muller 1950, pp. 206–18 (originally as “Kierkegaard et Luther,” in his Introduction à Kierkegaard, Abbaye S. wandrille: Éditions de fontenelle 1946, pp. 217–30). —— “Kierkegaard et Luther,” in his Aux sources de existentialisme chrétien. Kierkegaard, paris: Libraire Arthéme Fayard 1958, pp. 247–60. Koenker, Ernest B., “Søren Kierkegaard on Luther,” in Interpreters of Luther: Essays in Honor of Wilhelm Pauck, ed. by Jaroslav pelikan, philadelphia: Fortress press 1968, pp. 231–52. Kütemeyer, w., Der einzelne und die Kirche: über Luther und den Protestantismus, Berlin: wolff et al. 1934. Laporte, André, Trois témoins de la liberté: Erasme de Rotterdam, Martin Luther, Soren Kierkegaard, ph.D. Thesis, Geneva, Switzerland 1949. Leuba, Jean-Louis, “Kierkegaard et Luther,” in Kierkegaard, ed. by Jean Brun (special number of Obliques), paris: Eurographic 1981, pp. 149–61. Listov, A., Morten Luther opfattet af Søren Kierkegaard, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1883. Lønning, per, The Dilemma of Contemporary Theology: Prefigured in Luther, Pascal, Kierkegaard, Nietzsche, Oslo: Norwegian universities press 1962. —— “Kierkegaard: A Stumbling-Block to ‘Kierkegaardians’—what Orientation would he Favour Today?” in Kierkegaard Revisited: Proceedings from the Conference “Kierkegaard and the Meaning of Meaning It,” ed. by Niels Jørgen Cappelørn and Jon Stewart, Berlin: walter de Gruyter 1997 (Kierkegaard Studies. Monograph Series, vol. 1), pp. 94–106. Metzger, Hartmut, “wohlfeile Gnade. zum Lutherischen,” in his Kriterien christlicher Predigt nach Sören Kierkegaard, Göttingen: vandenhoeck & Ruprecht 1964 (Arbeiten zur Pastoraltheologie, vol. 3), pp. 61–8. Mortensen, viggo, “Kristendommen som det absolutte hos Kierkegaard og Luther,” Tidehverv, vol. 66, 1972, pp. 45–52. —— “Luther og Kierkegaard,” Kierkegaardiana, vol. 9, 1974, pp. 163–95. —— Lidelsens problem, Copenhagen: Gyldendal 1976, pp. 30–4. Norrby, Tore, “Kierkegaard—Hamlet,” in his Sören Kierkegaard, Stockholm: wahlström & widstrand 1951, pp. 185–91. Ørum, J.C.M., Om Forholdet imellem S. Kierkegaard og Luther, Copenhagen: Eibe 1858.

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Østergaard-Nielsen, Harald, “Die Bedeutung der Gleichzeitigkeit für die Christologie bei Luther und Kierkegaard,” Evangelische Theologie, vol. 24, no. 12, 1964, pp. 642–54. pelikan, Jaroslav, From Luther to Kierkegaard: A Study in the History of Theology, St. Louis: Mississippi: Concordia 1950. podmore, Simon D., “The Lightning and the Earthquake: Kierkegaard on the Anfechtung of Luther,” Heythrop Journal, vol. 47, 2006, pp. 562–78. prenter, Regin, “Luther and Lutheranism,” in Kierkegaard and Great Traditions, ed. by Niels Thulstrup and Marie Mikulová Thulstrup, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1981 (Bibliotheca Kierkegaardiana, vol. 6), pp. 121–72. Refsell, Lloyd, Kierkegaard’s Understanding of Luther, ph.D. Thesis, Jewish Theological Seminary of America, New York 1964. Reuter, Hans, “Kierkegaard und Luther,” Die Studierstube, vol. 16, no. 10, pp. 442–51. Ricca, paolo, “Kierkegaard e Lutero” [Kierkegaard and Luther], in Kierkegaard. Esistenzialismo e dramma della persona. Atti del convegno di Assisi (29 nov.1 dic. 1984) [Existentialism and Situation of the Individual. proceedings of Congress in Assisi, 29th November–1st December 1984], Brescia: Morcelliana 1985, pp. 38–66. Richter, Liselotte, “Luther, der ursprünglich-christliche Ansatz im neuen Subjektsverständnis,” in her Der Begriff der Subjektivität bei Kierkegaard. Ein Beitrag zur christlichem Existenzdarstellung, würzburg: verlag Konrad Triltsch 1934, pp. 57–65. Roos, Heinrich, “Critique of Luther,” in his Søren Kierkegaard and Catholicism, trans. by Richard M. Brackett, westminster, Maryland: The Newmann press 1954, pp. 3–12 (originally as “Lutherkritik,” in his Søren Kierkegaard og katolicismen. Foredrag holdt i Søren Kierkegaard Selskabet den 22. januar 1952, Copenhagen: Ejnar Munksgaard 1952, pp. 17–27). Schröer, Henning, “Kierkegaard und Luther,” Kerygma und Dogma, no. 30, 1984, pp. 227–48. Schückler, Georg, “Kierkegaards Stellung zu Luther und zur Kirche,” Die neue Ordnung, no. 5, 1951, pp. 429–38. Shestov, Lev, “Kierkegaard and Luther,” in his Kierkegaard and the Existential Philosophy, trans. by Elinor Hewitt, Athens, Ohio: Ohio university press 1969, pp. 234–46. Sløk, Johannes, “Kierkegaard og Luther,” Kierkegaardiana, vol. 2, 1957, pp. 7–24. —— “Kierkegaard and Luther,” in A Kierkegaard Critique, ed. by Howard A. Johnson and Niels Thulstrup, New York: Harper 1962, pp. 85–101. Smith, Daniel, Luther, Kierkegaard, and the Absence of God: The Theology of the Cross in the Modern World, ph.D. Thesis, Graduate Theology union, Berkeley 1999. Stucki, pierre-André, “Luther ou l’importance de la foi,” in his Le christianisme et l’histoire d’après Kierkegaard, Basel: verlag für Recht und Gesellschaft 1963, pp. 37–41.

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Suances Marcos, Manuel, Sören Kierkegaard, vols. 1–2, Madrid: universidad Nacional de Educación a Distanca 1997, vol. 1 (Vida de un filósofo atormentado), pp. 158–63. Thust, Martin, “Die Innerlichkeit der Gnade, die Anstrengung des zunichtwerdens: die wiedererweckung Luthers,” in his Sören Kierkegaard. Der Dichter des Religiösen. Grundlagen eines Systems der Subjektivität, Munich: C.H. Beck’sche verlagsbuchhandlung 1931, pp. 478–502.

Hieronimus Savonarola: Kierkegaard’s Model for the Blood-witness Ivan Ž. Sørensen

What is required in order to look at oneself with true blessing in the mirror of the word? The first requirement is that you must not look at the mirror, observe the mirror, but must see yourself in the mirror....[T]his remark was not made by me, nor by someone we in these days call a pious man, the kind of man who has some pious sentiments, but it was made by a truth-witness, a blood-witness, and such glorious people are well informed.1

Hieronimus Savonarola: here we mention by name the man whom Søren Kierkegaard refers to in the work which he—not for the first time—thought of as his last, For SelfExamination, published on September 10, 1851. The Dominican monk Savonarola was executed on the Town Hall Square in Florence on May 23, 1498. He was hanged and burned, and his ashes were cast into the Arno River. He suffered martyrdom for the sake of his faith—as well as for his acts. For Kierkegaard, Savonarola is primarily a truth-witness, as well as a blood-witness, and for a witness it is essential that “faith, this restless thing, should be recognizable in his life.”2 The witness is the prototype of reduplication. One can discuss all the life-views, attitudes, positions, types, and figures along the way that Kierkegaard sketched with regard to the first sentence in Either/Or, victor Eremita’s remark in the preface: “It may at times have occurred to you, dear reader, to doubt somewhat the accuracy of that familiar philosophical thesis that the outer is the inner and the inner is the outer.”3 For a long time, the religious in Kierkegaard was about inwardness—as in Fear and Trembling: “there is an interiority that is incommensurable with exteriority.”4 Savonarola became one of the milestones, marking the swing away from the view that the inward (faith) is not visible in the outward (action). The new view is that the true Christians, in and with their lives, witness to and suffer for their faith—as, for example, Savonarola. If one is unable to do so, then one must honestly and fairly admit one’s impotence. It is also Savonarola (among others), whom Kierkegaard has in mind when he throws himself into the decisive attack on the church in an article in Fædrelandet, on I would like to thank Tom Reeves for the helpful linguistic revisions of this article. 1 SV1 XII, 315 / FSE, 25, translation modified. 2 SV1 XII, 310 / FSE, 19. 3 SKS 2, 11 / EO1, 13. 4 SKS 4, 161 / FT, 69.

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December 18, 1854. On January 30 of the same year Bishop Mynster had died, and the person who was to become his successor, professor Martensen, in his eulogy for him called him a truth-witness. This shocked Kierkegaard, and he had to emphasize, that Bishop Mynster represented “the current Christianity here in this country,”5 that is, a mild, easily manageable and thus strongly distorted “discount-version” of Christianity. By contrast, A truth-witness, one of the authentic truth-witnesses, is a person who is flogged, mistreated, dragged from one prison to another, then finally—the last advancement, by which he is admitted to the first class in the Christian order of precedence among the authentic truth-witnesses—then finally, for this is indeed one of the authentic truthwitnesses Prof. Martensen talks about, then finally is crucified or beheaded or broiled on a grill, his lifeless body thrown away by the assistant executioner into remote place, unburied—this is how a truth-witness is buried!—or burned to ashes and cast to the winds so that every trace of this “refuse”...might be obliterated.6

Savonarola is generally included in the picture when there is talk of truth-witnesses and blood-witnesses, of prototypes and imitation—and of dying.7 Savonarola’s voice is heard indirectly in several of the published works; he appears directly, mentioned by name, in the journals. Savonarola was a relatively late source of inspiration for Kierkegaard; how the Dane became aware of the Italian can also appear a bit arbitrary. But in the critical years (from 1851), when Kierkegaard was busy casting his role in the concluding attack on the church, the monk came along and stepped into the arena, becoming one of the marked models, which Kierkegaard uses to clarify his position. Here I will remark on how Kierkegaard reads and understands the works/figures, which are relevant in the context of Savonarola, namely, the New Testament/Christ, Savonarola himself and, finally, Martin Luther. Here “she,” that is, Regine Olsen, also plays a role and is a part of “the relation.” During the work on Practice in Christianity in 1848 Kierkegaard read (once again) the New Testament. Because this new reading so impressed him he slowly changed SV1 XIv, 52 / M, 46. SV1 XIv, 8 / M, 6. 7 The word “blood-witness” itself (Blodvidne)—with various endings and orthographies—appears only eight times in the works: twice in For Self-Examination (from 1851, SV1 XII, 316 and 349 / FSE, 25 and 64) once in The Moment, no. 7 (from 1855, SV1 XIv, 246 / M, 231) and five times in an article in response to Bishop Martensen in Fædrelandet on December 30, 1854 (SV1 XIv, 15 / M, 9); Martensen claimed that Kierkegaard had made “ ‘truth-witness’ and ‘blood-witness’ synonymous,” but Kierkegaard fine tunes the distinction: “surely the blood-witness also belongs to the truth-witnesses, especially to the ‘authentic’ truth-witnesses..., in which in turn there are, I may assume, many more truth-witnesses than blood-witnesses.” Apart from in The Moment, “Blodvidne” is always translated as “martyr”! In the journals the word “Blodvidne” only appears in 1851 (SKS 24, 243, NB23:68 / JP 4, 4820. Pap. X–4 A 109 / JP 3, 2663. SKS 24, 339–40, NB24:39 / JP 4, 4582. SKS 24, 349– 50, NB24:52 / JP 4, 4890. SKS 24, 516–17, NB25:104 / JP 3, 2966. Pap. X–6 B 2 / FSE, Supplement, p. 229 (translated “martyr”). Pap. XI–3 B 82. 5 6

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his view on many things: on what the external circumstances, also the political, mean for human life; on the role of the church in the political game; on the relation between the masses and the individual; and between the outer and the inner: this was a change away from the view that Christianity is about “the hidden inwardness” toward a focus not only on being hearers of the word, but also its doers, that is, to emulate Christianity in the outward sphere, to imitate Christ.8 This step led him into a decidedly fundamentalist position, where the text, the New Testament, is taken entirely literally—and thus it is no straightforward matter to be a Christian. This is a position from which he, to an ever increasing degree, emphasizes how destructive Christian scholarship is; the same is true of the professional pastors (“From the point of view of eternity, they are what public prostitutes are in temporality”9) and the ruling class (“No, the cultured and well-to-do class, who if not upper-crust are at least upperbourgeoisie—they ought to be the targets”).10 He even implies some of the phrases in this “metamorphosis,” for example, in October 1849, when he describes a person, “suffering and perhaps tormenting himself under a particular conception of some specific Christian point—and then it suddenly dawns on him, and he comes to see the same matter from another side, and he feels a relief comparable to that which a hungry man feels when he gets food, or a fainting person when he is restored.”11 From his new position Kierkegaard posits the figure of Christ as the measuring rod, which one must relate to—now in a way different from how he had conceived it previously: Christ as the savior, but also as the sufferer; Christ as the model who demands imitation by anyone who wants to call himself a Christian. Entirely in agreement with the mirror problem in the above quotation from For Self-Examination, there are no questions raised about the source—since that would be Christian scholarship! There is no doubt about who the author of the Holy Scriptures is and what the meaning of the text is. It is taken completely literally. The source of Kierkegaard’s knowledge of Savonarola is primarily A.G. Rudelbach’s Hieronymus Savonarola und seine Zeit.12 In Kierkegaard there is no discussion about the book as such or its goal. Kierkegaard reads it arbitrarily, almost like the aesthete A in “Rotation of Crops”: “Arbitrariness is the whole secret.... One does not enjoy the immediate object but something else that one arbitrarily introduces. One sees the middle of a play; one reads the third section of a book. One thereby has enjoyment quite different from what the author so kindly intended.”13 Now arbitrariness—this special, Kierkegaardian manner of reading14—serves not only aesthetic enjoyment but the new religious purification. It does not interest See the section “Kierkegaard skifter position” in Kresten Nordentoft’s Søren Kierkegaard, Copenhagen: Dansk universitets presse 1977, pp. 102–12. 9 SKS 21, 92, NB7:31 / JP 6, 6254. 10 SKS 21, 286, NB10:57 / JP 1, 236. 11 SKS 22, 314, NB13:67 / JP 1, 358, translation modified. 12 Andreas Gottlob Rudelbach, Hieronymus Savonarola und seine Zeit, Hamburg: Friedrich perthes 1835. 13 SKS 2, 288 / EO1, 299. 14 Such a reading is not listed among the theories of intertextuality (Julia Kristeva) and misreading (Harold Bloom). 8

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Kierkegaard that Rudelbach’s Savonarola book can be placed on the list of overly praised works which mention the Dominican monk as spiritually related to, and a forerunner of, Luther (just as Luther himself also did), or that the work incidentally is, with respect to source criticism, problematic and highly tendentious.15 Kierkegaard simply takes up what he finds usable. I. Savonarola—A Preacher of Repentance in the Renaissance City of Florence, 1498 At the end of the fifteenth century Florence was the city par excellence, where the foundation of Renaissance ideas and mentality developed. It happened in the minds of the educated leaders, the political elite of the wool and silk producers and bankers as well as in the circle of humanist philosophers, artists, and poets, who dwelled in the city’s magnificent palaces. Lorenzo de’ Medici, the Magnificent (1449–92) was the city’s informal autocrat, a businessman-duke who in thought and deed united tyrannical power, breeding, patronage and hedonism. He surrounded himself in his palace with artists like Botticelli (1445–1510) and Michelangelo (1475–1564), the poet Angelo poliziano (1452–94), and the philosophers Marsilio Ficini (1433–99) and Giovanni pico della Mirandola (1463–94), the author of the work Oration on the Dignity of Man from 1486, which sums up the Renaissance view of man in a synthesis of Neoplatonic philosophy, alchemy and Jewish, Muslim and Christian mysticism.16 But the Renaissance mentality manifested itself also in the unrestrained hedonism and sensual excesses in the streets and palaces of Florence, among others in the great, luxurious and frivolous carnival parades. In his way Lorenzo himself sums up the essence of the prevailing view of life with the carpe diem motif in a poem in his famous Carnival Songs: “How fair is youth that flies so fast! Then be happy, ye who may; what’s to come is still unsure.”17 For Savonarola, the preacher of repentance, this life and this world-view were an abomination. This preacher of repentance had on his program above all penance and improvement, doomsday prophecies and sermons of conversion. After the encounter with the preacher, the humanists converted one after another. In his book on Savonarola Fr. Karl Meier criticizes Rudelbach for “reading” arbitrarily! Rudelbach’s book is marked by a “Mangel an kritischer Prüfung der vorliegenden Quellen, unvollständige und ungenaue Benützung derselben, einseitiges Hervorheben des mystischen Elements in der Theologie Savonarola’s und willkürliche Deutung dahin gehöriger Aussprüche.” Fr. Karl Meier, Girolamo Savonarola aus großen Theils handschriftlichen Quellen dargestellt, Berlin: G. Reimer 1836, p. 326. 16 when Kierkegaard in 1854 writes “Man is a synthesis. He is an animal, but there is also a possibility of something divine in him” (SKS 26, 23–4, NB31:30 / JP 1, 83), then it is almost an echo of pico’s conception of man: “It will be in your power to descend to the lower, brutish forms of life; you will be able, through your own decision, to rise again to the superior orders whose life is divine.” See Giovanni pico della Mirandola, Oration on the Dignity of Man, trans. by A. Robert Caponigri, South Bend, Indiana: Regnery/Gateway, Inc. 1956, pp. 7–8. 17 Quoted from Confucius to Cummings. An Anthology of Poetry, ed. by Ezra pound and Marcella Spann, New York: New Directions publishing 1964, p. 118. 15

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Hieronimus Savonarola (1452–98) came from an old family in Ferrara, where he was particularly influenced by his grandfather, who was a famous physician and, in addition, a learned and widely read man with strict moral and religious principles. From an early age Savonarola was disgusted with the elegant court life in Ferrara, and he was troubled by the heathen-oriented humanists, who in all of Italy were corrupting morals, art, poetry, and—not least of all—Christianity. He began to study medicine and philosophy, but dropped his studies in 1475, and he entered the Dominican order in Bologna. Some biographies mention that behind this step there was an unreciprocated love for a Florentine girl in exile. Savonarola was sent to Florence at the beginning of the 1480s, where he immediately began to censure the citizens there for their immoral and unchristian lifestyles and ways of thinking. But he had little success in this; in the following years he worked as a preacher monk in other Italian cities. pico della Mirandola heard him in San Gimignano, and at his behest Savonarola returned to Florence. This time he preached with greater success. Florentines flocked to the pulpit in the Cathedral Santa Maria del Fiore and in the Dominican complex San Marco. In 1491 he became prior, and here he reformed the rules of the cloister. The new rules were rigid and cloister life was humble. The brothers were to pray, work, and study, and this was popular; in a short time the number of monks grew from 50 to 238. Savonarola set an example, living in his small cell, with rough clothing, simple food, and indefatigable industry. In his cloister cell he felt increasingly as one of God’s chosen ones, his guard in Italy, he who was to announce God’s disapproval and punishment of the ungodly—right in the middle of the Renaissance’s pleasurefixated time. In his doomsday prophecies and calls for prayer and improvement, medieval mysticism and the humanist idea of a new golden age were united. But he was also sensitive to the humanists’ rhetorical technique of persuasion. The church shall be punished; then renewed; and it should happen soon. It was this effective statement which was the turning point in his activity as a preacher; but at the same time secular society felt his lash. And soon the city’s political center of power moved from the Medici palace to San Marco cloister. It was with Lorenzo de’ Medici’s consent that pico called Savonarola to Florence anew. But the monk soon became Lorenzo’s sharpest critic. In thundering sermons he criticized the luxurious life, hunger for power, and lust: the Medicis’ and other merchant families’ control was harmful to the republic of Florence and not least of all for the common citizen. And Savonarola found a receptive audience among them. He prophesied about an immanent doomsday, but first of all Florence would have to be taught a lesson. when Lorenzo died in 1492, his son piero took over the management of the family bank and the other businesses. But he was not able to live up to the stature of his father. He lacked a sense for what was needed in the situation, trying, for example, to centralize power outside the family’s traditional supporters, but above all he lacked Lorenzo’s decisiveness and diplomatic flair. His hesitations in the larger political arena were disastrous for him, when tensions arose between Milan and Naples. The Duke of Milan was supported by King Charles vIII of France, who in September 1494 marched through Italy with a huge army. when he reached the territory of Florence, piero rode out to him and made a humiliating peace treaty, with

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the subsequent loss of several cities. A few days after his return to Florence he had to flee the city. King Charles stayed in Florence—in the Medici palace. Savonarola was one of the leading figures who saved what could be saved—and expedited Charles’ journey further south. The French invasion caused in the long run a temporary rejuvenation of the Republic. But its first result was to create fear and nervousness among the Florentines. with one blow they had lost the belief that they were masters in their own city and over their own fate. This was the psychological basis for Savonarola’s success as religious and political leader in the years 1494–98. What then did the monk—more concretely—have on his agenda? The Republic of Florence was to be reorganized, and through a moral rearmament it would be purged—out with the city’s harmful, corrupt elements (the Medicis), and out with the citizens’ inner folly: hedonism, greed, and envy. This criticism of the rich was like sweet music in the ears of the poor—and the French invasion was interpreted as tangible proof of the truth of Savonarola’s prophecies: King Charles was a tool of God. The purge itself was executed by groups of young boys, who like a kind of vice squad in the name of God forced their way into citizens’ homes and confiscated their luxury items: dice, wigs, jewelry, mirrors, paintings, Boccaccio’s Decameron, etc. Everything was then thrown onto “the bonfire of the vanities,” which took place on Town Hall Square in 1497 and 1498. upper-class women dressed in the new fashion, for example, with breasts exposed, were accosted and quickly given appropriate attire. parties, sporting events, carnivals, and the like were forbidden and replaced by sacred processions and masses. The new republican constitution, which Savonarola created, can almost be called “demo-theocratic”—a religious democracy: the city council’s decisions from then on had to be confirmed by, respectively, “The Grand Council,” consisting of more than 1,700 elected members, and “The Small Council,” consisting of approximately 80 members. In 1495 Savonarola had the palazzo della Signoria expanded with the Sala del Maggior Consiglio for The Grand Council (the chamber was called “The Chamber of the Five-Hundred” after 1865). Savonarola got the theocratic element in the reforms accepted by appointing Christ as absolute king of the city. Many artists and intellectuals took his message seriously, for example, pico, Botticelli, and Michelangelo, but it was the common people especially who flocked around him; his followers were called “piagnoni,” that is, “the wailers” (because his sermons always brought them to tears). They attached themselves to his “fundamentalist” theocracy, in part due to their traditional religious disposition and in part due to their loyalty to the Florentine Republican institution, but also out of fear. He convinced them that a renewal would have to come from them—“the children of God,” and God had chosen Florence as “the new Jerusalem.” They were convinced that they heard the vox Dei—the voice of God, through him. As many as 16,000 people crowded into the cathedral to hear his sermons. But Savonarola and his followers’ rough methods were not met with undivided enthusiasm. His opponents were, however, divided: the Medicis’ followers, the Franciscans, and especially the group which was called “arrabbiati,” that is “the

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angry,” which comprised, among others, aristocrats who were disgruntled with both the Medici regime and Savonarola’s demo-theocracy. Savonarola’s angry and irreconcilable attacks on pope Alexander vI (1492– 1503) proved to be fatal. pope Alexander vI was one of the so-called Renaissance popes: hungry for power, corrupt and hedonistic. Alexander tried to win him over with both stick and carrot, suspending him, and offering him the cardinal’s hat— but the only red hat Savonarola desired, he complacently declared, was the bloody hood of a martyr. Savonarola called Alexander the Anti-Christ, and Alexander excommunicated Savonarola. But the monk preached on unimpressed. Now the pope threatened Florence with an interdict, which could have had serious economic consequences for the city. More and more people became concerned with the monk’s unwillingness to compromise. A Franciscan monk challenged Savonarola to a ordeal by fire, and on April 7, 1498 Savonarola—or more precisely his substitute—was supposed to prove that he was a “truth-witness” by walking unharmed through a bonfire on the Town Hall Square. The ordeal was postponed and ultimately cancelled due to a violent rainstorm. The Florentines became bitter, and the next day, palm Sunday, they stormed the San Marco cloister. After a tumult in the halls of the cloister, Savonarola was arrested along with his closest associates. A trial was then arranged in the Town Hall—a mock trial. In spite of severe torture, the Florentine authorities were not successful in getting a confession out of the mouth of the monks. So they made use of deceit and read publicly to the Florentines in the Sala del Maggior Consiglio a forged confession, stating that Savonarola was neither a prophet nor in any way inspired by God—not the vox dei. This was a fatal blow to his followers who believed the confession to be genuine. The vatican had sworn that Savonarola was to die—even if he were John the Baptist himself!—and demanded that he be sent to Rome. Florence rejected this petition, but a papal commission was invited, arriving on May 19. The sentence was proclaimed: Savonarola was found guilty of heresy, schismatism, and false prophesy. On May 23, 1498 the three monks were deprived of their habits, hanged and burnt, and their ashes were cast into the Arno River. Ever since his execution there have been circles who have honored Savonarola and his teachings and published his writings—first the Dominicans and later other Florentines. On the site of the execution on the piazza della Signoria a memorial plaque was laid in 1898, and the day of Savonarola’s death is celebrated every year. Leading up to the 500-year jubilee in 1998, Florence’s city council and archbishop made a concerted effort to have the monk canonized. To this day they are still working on this. Savonarola, however, enjoys considerable respect from another side, and this not least of all due to Martin Luther. Starting in 1523, several editions of Savonarola’s two last writings appeared—with Luther’s preface. These works are Expositions on the Fifty-First and Thirty-First Psalms, which Savonarola completed during his time in jail awaiting execution—in between painful interrogations. The first consideration is complete, the second unfinished. In his preface Luther refers to the pious reader with his “usual” criticism of papistry, so one can see “what kind of men this abominable Seat of destruction usually destroys.” He emphasizes how Savonarola anticipates his own doctrine

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since “there is no praise of the deeds for God in these night thoughts, but that the one pure faith in God’s mercy, without any trust in deed, is necessary in death and judgment.”18 By interpreting Savonarola as a forerunner of the Reformation, Luther assigned him a position in the protestant world. His Expositions with Luther’s preface were translated into Danish by peder palladius in 1551 and published again in 1558 and 1562. New translations appeared in 1663 and in 1850. In the 1830s, three important works on Savonarola were published in German: namely, the aforementioned A.G. Rudelbach’s Hieronymus Savonarola und seine Zeit and Fr. Karl Meier’s Girolamo Savonarola as well as Nicolaus Lenau’s long poem Savonarola.19 Kierkegaard obviously read the first of these, but probably also the last, which he had in his library. Kierkegaard might also have read something about Savonarola in Grundtvig, who in his Kort Begreb af Verdens-Krønike from 1812 writes: “Savonarola, who in Florence dared to preach Christianity to the people, was hanged, and those who later steadfastly confessed the Gospel had either to lose their lives or emigrate.”20 Lis Jacobsen—the editor of peder palladius’ writings in 1912—writes that palladius, after protestantism had been consolidated, had no awareness whatsoever of the doubt and the uncertainty which the pioneers of the Reformation had known— regardless of whether it was Savonarola or Luther. The victorious protestants should not have to fight for “a new doctrine through internal strife and external persecution; they received it, signed and sealed, in wittenberg....The precondition for a sympathetic understanding of Savonarola’s work was lacking.”21 It was, however, not lacking in Kierkegaard. II. God’s Unchangeableness, 1848 and 1851 However, there might not have been a “sympathetic understanding” in Kierkegaard’s first glance at Savonarola: what Savonarola said about himself—that he was like a hammer in the hands of God: use it as long as you want to, and when you do not wish to use it any longer, throw it away—is really blasphemy against God. No man can have such a relationship to God. It is too much like an erotic relationship, and furthermore it really attributes change to God. It is as if a girl were to say of her faithless lover: I am satisfied that he loved me for

Quoted here from Luther’s foreword in Savonarolas Betragtninger over den 51de og 31 Davids Psalme, ed. by M.Th. wøldike, Copenhagen: Foreningen til christelige Opbyggelsesskrifters udbredelse i Folket 1850, pp. 5–6. 19 Nicolaus Lenau, Savonarola. Ein Gedicht, Stuttgart and Tübingen: Cotta 1837 (ASKB 1743). 20 I quote from Nik. Fred. Sev. Grundtvigs Udvalgte Skrifter, vols. 1–10, ed. by Holger Begtrup, Copenhagen: Gyldendal 1904–06, vol. 2, pp. 267–8. Grundtvig later discusses Savonarola as, among other things “the Italians’ failed reformer,” see Haandbog i VerdensHistorien, from 1843–56, in Udvalgte Skrifter, vol. 7, 1908, p. 470 and pp. 476–7. 21 Peder Palladius’s Danske Skrifter, vols. 1–5, ed. by Lis Jacobsen, Copenhagen: H.H. Thieles Bogtrykkeri 1911–26, vol. 2, p. 137. 18

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a short time; he cast me away, but I love him just the same and thank him for the brief time he loved me. It is as if God changed his mind, as if God became tired of a person—but the relationship cannot be of that kind. The error in those words lies in the emotional turn: when you do not wish to use it any longer—for the task in the relationship to God is always the task of faith, to believe that he therefore and nevertheless loves a person just as intensely. Consequently Savonarola must say: whether you use me or do not use me, help me simply to cling to the faith that you are love; therefore if Savonarola [says] he believes God loves him not because he uses him but because God is love, then his relationship to God is not reflected upon, not to mention reflecting implying a change, but the nature of God, that he is love. There is essentially a despair in Savonarola’s words, implying that God would not be the same, would not be absolute love in his relationship to a person, if he could no longer use him. well, so it is with a human being—but how dreadful to think this way about God.22

This is the first journal entry, where Kierkegaard treats Savonarola—in the Journal NB7 from fall 1848. It is possible that Kierkegaard’s remark is occasioned by Nicolaus Lenau’s poem Savonarola, from 1837. There one reads: Ein Werkzeug nur, das Gott erweckte, Ein Straßenlichtlein in der Nacht, Das warnend Gott am Abgrund steckte, Ein tönend Horn in seiner Schlacht. Will Gott das Lichtlein nicht mehr brauchen, So lischt es aus; doch seine Hand Wird warnend aus dem Abgrund tauchen, Mit einem hellen Fackelbrand. Will Gott dies Horn auch nicht mehr brauchen, Weil lauter wird der Schlachtendrang, So wird er in ein andres hauchen, Das rufen wird wie Donnerklang!23

In Lenau these words appear in the chapter “Die Tortur,” which treats the period from the arrest of Savonarola on April 8 to the day of execution, May 23. These words stand out in Lenau as a part of Savonarola’s denial that he was a heretic. The image of the hammer, which Kierkegaard mentions, however, comes from the sermon which is said to be Savonarola’s last, and which he gave in San Marco Church on March 18—that is, before his arrest and torture. Here a hammer in particular is mentioned, and not, as in Lenau, an undetermined “Werkzeug,” and here the hammer is expressly thrown away: SKS 21, 95, NB7:38 / JP 4, 3838. Lenau, Savonarola. Ein Gedicht, p. 224. It is this poem and this passage that is referred to in SKS K21, 87 as well as in the commentary to Pap. IX A 295. 22 23

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Ivan Ž. Sørensen Lasset den Herrn nur machen, er ist der Meister aller Propheten und aller Heiligen. Der Meister, der den Hammer führt, wenn er ihn gebraucht hat, wozu er will, hebt er ihn nicht auf, sondern wirft ihn weg. So that ers auch dem Jeremias, als er ihn allem seinem Werke gebraucht hatte. So wird ers auch mit diesem Hammer thun; wenn er ihn genugsam geführt hat nach seiner Weise, wird er ihn hinwerfen. Doch wohlan, wir wollen zufrieden sein: der Herr thue was ihm beliebt. Je schlimmer es hier unten geht, desto herrlicher wird die Krone dort oben seyn.24

These are the words in A.G. Rudelbach’s Savonarola monograph. This is the book that Kierkegaard later, that is, in 1851, refers to directly, and it is also a possible source for his note in 1848. Kierkegaard clearly twists Savonarola’s words, first by reformulating the statement to direct speech, from Savonarola to God: “use it as long as you want to....” Savonarola, by contrast, imagines God as the sovereign master and refers to him in the third person. Second, Kierkegaard distorts things by claiming that Savonarola ascribes change to God. But Savonarola clearly states that he, just like Jeremiah, is subordinate to God’s plan, which has nothing to do with changing fancies. Savonarola in fact reflects precisely on God’s love, and in such a way that he is entirely in line with Kierkegaard. But in 1848 Savonarola was apparently an unknown figure for Kierkegaard, who consistently misspells his name: Savanarola (three times), after first having written just Savar (it is, however, not unusual that Kierkegaard is sloppy with orthography!). And he apparently is not touched by the gruesome story of the monk’s end, his martyrdom. It is even stranger that in the Journal NB7 before and after the Savonarola entry (NB7:38) Kierkegaard works with themes which are of the utmost relevance for Savonarola. For example: “The only true way of expressing that there is an absolute is to become its martyr or a martyr to it. It is this way even in whole-hearted erotic love.”25 And so it is with Savonarola. Kierkegaard’s goal at this point in time, in 1848, is to define Christianity more precisely as the absolute, Christianity’s absolute character.26 To this end, he lashes out wildly, primarily at his own time, where everything is nonsense and relativity: A thoroughly Christian Christian I have not seen....The Christian requirement of sacrifice stops at no point. One gives up everything, unconditionally everything, chooses God, holds to God. Enormous task, how rarely, how rarely does it happen. And yet Christianity does not stop here. I seem to hear such a man say: well, now, I choose God—and forsake everything. But then—then God can surely be depended upon, then he will certainly not abandon me. Here we have the ultimate. The prototype teaches that Christian suffering also includes God’s abandoning you right in your heaviest suffering. Frightful! And this is the teaching those job-holding men call the mild doctrine of truth.27

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Rudelbach, Hieronymus Savonarola und seine Zeit, p. 234. SKS 21, 91, NB7:28 / JP 5, 6253. SKS 21, 93, NB7:35 / JP 1, 426. SKS 21, 89–90, NB7:26 / JP 5, 6252.

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Compare Savonarola’s “conclusion”: “Je schlimmer es hier unten geht, desto herrlicher wird die Krone dort oben seyn.”28 Kierkegaard develops this point in detail in For Self-Examination. Luther is raked over the coals for his undialectical procedure, when he promises that Christianity is comfort and cure, and that all uproar and evil come from the devil. But no: “Dialectically one must say: both the consolation and the suffering come with Christianity, for this is the dialectic of the absolute, and Christianity is the absolute.”29 This “Savanarola” is brought into the flock of those who have misunderstood something essential—by making God changeable, relative. And it is important to Kierkegaard to insist on God’s unchangeableness. As early as 1834 he had discussed the issue in the context of dogmatics;30 in 1839 he relates a bit more personally to the theme.31 In 1844 the edifying discourse “One who prays Aright Struggles in prayer” appeared. He who is victorious in this struggle is God. Not necessarily by obliging the mundane wishes of those praying, but he allows himself to be moved: “Indeed, this God is moved by the struggler’s lament when he is perishing in despondency...; he is moved, if not earlier, then by the final sight when, humanly speaking, it already seems to be too late.”32 This God conquers the worshipper as “the vigilance of concern” in him little by little nods off, “never to awaken again, but the time of inwardness is never over.”33 And this victorious God is unchangeable. His unchangeableness consists “in being concerned for a person, and therefore it does not admit of being changed by the scream of the one who prays as if everything were all over now.”34 This is precisely the thought that Savonarola consoles himself with in his agony. Savonarola must have rolled over in his grave (or whatever one would say of unburied blood-witnesses) with Kierkegaard’s “accusation” in 1848 that he was supposed to have thought that God was changeable. It looks as if the witness in a strange way responds from the beyond. For in 1850, as mentioned, the short work Savonarola’s Expositions on the Fifty-First and Thirty-First Psalms, which was written during his torture in 1498, was republished in Denmark. “Since you are the same God in whom there is no change or shadow of variability,” writes the tormented man—then all that he prays for is that God in his mercy and compassion obliviates his transgressions: wipe “my heart that it is purged of all transgressions

Rudelbach, Hieronymus Savonarola und seine Zeit, p. 234. SKS 21, 94, NB7:35 / JP 1, 426. 30 Pap. I A 21 / JP 2, 1303. Pap. I A 29 / JP 2, 1304. 31 SKS 19, 55, EE:160 / KJN 2, 50: “There is so much talk of God’s unchangingness, aimed at weakening the significance of prayer, but I want to ask: do you really believe that the blessing which the priest gives from the holy altar has just as powerful an effect on those who wander curiously about admiring the human works (sculptures) in the Church as on those who have silently gathered here to raise their thoughts devoutly to God?” 32 SKS 5, 370 / EUD, 387. 33 SKS 5, 374 / EUD, 392. 34 SKS 5, 375 / EUD, 393. 28 29

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and freed from all impurity, that it become like a clean board, in which God’s finger can write his law of love, with which no transgression can live together.”35 There is no relativity here! No young girl’s lament, thanking her lover for the brief time he loved her. On the contrary, in the middle of his agony, there is certainty that “Je schlimmer es hier unten geht, desto herrlicher wird die Krone dort oben seyn”36 due to God’s love and unchangeableness. It is not known whether Kierkegaard knew this work from 1850, but in 1851 he apparently changed his view with respect to what Savonarola thought about the essence of God. In the spring of 1851, he was reading David’s psalms: “Today I read my usual portion in the Old Testament. And the sequence came to David’s psalms (24–28).”37 On May 18, 1851 he gave a sermon in the Citadel Church in Copenhagen. The theme was “God’s unchangeableness.”38 It was in the time leading up to this day, and during the work with this text, that Kierkegaard seriously read about Savonarola, with many references to Rudelbach’s monograph. “God’s Faithfulness” is the title of an entry which was actually “written as a conclusion to the sermon on God’s unchangeableness”: what is said about God’s unchangeableness and faithfulness is like this. Even one word suggesting that he would be able to change or at times even want virtually to deceive a man—O, the very thought of saying anything like that makes one shudder. But what about Luther—he certainly was a man of experience! He says: If I am to be deceived, I would rather be deceived by God than by men. There is a devout man—and not merely a devout man, but a blood-witness—and he says in a sermon: You deceived me. O God, etc. (It is Savonarola, quotation found on page 18 in this journal).39

The point is that he who in truth has something to do with God, sometimes feels that God deceives him, “but into the truth.”40 when Kierkegaard, in 1851, brings in Savonarola in a different—more positive—fashion than in 1848, it can, of course, be due to the fact that he has learned something about the monk by carefully reading Rudelbach’s monograph. Or perhaps Kierkegaard’s critical remark that Savonarola offended God was merely a parenthesis in an otherwise profitable familiarity with the monk—back in 1848. This was the year that he became seriously attentive to the concept of imitation [Efterfølgelse]—“and everything involved in ‘imitation,’ dying to the world, being born again, and so on, which I myself was not aware of in 1848,” as he notes in June 1852.41

Quoted here from Savonarolas Betragtninger over den 51de og 31te Davids Psalme, pp. 14–16. 36 Rudelbach, Hieronymus Savonarola und seine Zeit, p. 234. 37 SKS 24, 296, NB23:189 / JP 5, 6745. 38 published on September 3, 1855, SV1 XIv, 281–94 / M, 263–81. 39 SKS 24, 349–50, NB24:52 / JP 4, 4890. 40 Ibid. 41 SKS 25, 14–6, NB26:7 / JP 2, 1962, translation modified. 35

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III. The Prototype—Deceived into the Truth, 1851 Why does Kierkegaard begin to read about Savonarola again in April 1851? It is perhaps because he recalls from the time a few years earlier when he was occupied with the monk that there were important things at stake, which were relevant for his current directions of thought. But perhaps there is (also) a more pressing occasion for why he takes up Rudelbach’s book on Savonarola—here with the accent on Rudelbach. For it was precisely in this spring of 1851 that Kierkegaard entered into a polemic with this man. Andreas Gottlob Rudelbach was a restless man with roots and homes in both Denmark and Germany, an industrious writer in both countries, a sharp polemicist who crossed swords for or with the age’s most significant men, for example, Grundtvig, Mynster, Martensen—and Kierkegaard; he was tremendously well read and “he was reckoned to be one of Lutheranism’s most learned men.”42 Kierkegaard had several of his books in his library,43 and when he died, Rudelbach had been working on a book on Kierkegaard. But the two men also had a direct exchange of words. In 1849 Kierkegaard read Rudelbach’s book The Evangelical Church Constitution44 and comments on it in his journal. This was, as noted, at a time when Kierkegaard was reconsidering the relationship between “the inner” and “the outer.” He applauds Rudelbach’s view that “the State Church gave rise to or contributed to giving rise to the proletariat”—but Kierkegaard radicalizes the issue: “It is unchristian and wicked to base the state on a substructure of men who are totally ignored and excluded from personal association.”45 Kierkegaard’s general and more substantial relation vis-à-vis Rudelbach, however, concerns the claim that he is so extensively occupied with and engaged in the outward forms of Christianity, with the “world,” so to speak. This is also Kierkegaard’s complaint when he, in January 1851, claims “Dr. Rudelbach and I. we shall never understand one another....He has never felt the disquietude of the idea, wondering every single day whether he is now a Christian or not.”46 Faith is a disquieting thing! It is a Lutheran expression which occupies Kierkegaard at this time, and it is one of the central ideas in the work For SelfExamination, which was then beginning to take form. But faith, according to Kierkegaard, is not what disquieted Rudelbach. when Rudelbach in his book On Civil Marriage47 mentioned Kierkegaard in a note, the latter had to respond. He did this with an article in Fædrelandet on January Carl weltzer in Dansk Biografisk Leksikon, vols. 1–27, 2nd ed., ed. by paul Engelstaft, Copenhagen: Schultz 1933–44, vol. 20, pp. 294–8. 43 Rudelbach’s Savonarola is not listed in The Auctioneer’s Record of the Library of Søren Kierkegaard (ASKB), which of course does not exclude the possibility that the book had been in Kierkegaard’s possession. 44 Rudelbach, Den evangeliske Kirkeforfatnings Oprindelse og Princip, dens Udartning og dens mulige Gjenreisning, fornemmelig i Danmark. Et udførligt kirkeretligt og kirkehistorisk Votum for virkelig Religionsfrihed, Copenhagen: p.G. philipsen 1849 (ASKB 171). 45 SKS 22, 217–18, NB12:124 / JP 4, 4164. 46 SKS 24, 214, NB23:20 / JP 5, 6725. 47 Rudelbach, Om det borgerlige Ægteskab. Bidrag til en alsidig, upartisk Bedømmelse af denne Institution, nærmest fra Kirkens Standpunkt, Copenhagen: Otto Schwartz 1851 (ASKB 752). 42

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31, 1851. In short, the conflict concerns the fact that Kierkegaard does not want to endorse the claim that it is in the deepest interest of the church “to become emancipated particularly from what is rightly called habitual and state Christianity.”48 He had never pleaded for the emancipation of anything at all, Kierkegaard says sarcastically. His efforts for Christianity are not directed against “the existing order,” and are not modelled on changes in “the outer,” on reforms. “Christendom is inwardness, inward deepening.”49 The entire affair rolled on into the spring of 1851, because Bishop Mynster in a rejoinder to Rudelbach takes Kierkegaard’s article in Fædrelandet in support of his position—which Kierkegaard took amiss, not due to anything concerning the heart of the discussion itself—the inner and the outer—but because Mynster came to place Kierkegaard alongside his arch-enemy, M.A. Goldschmidt. Kierkegaard expressed his bitterness in a conversation with Mynster on May 2—the account of this appears in the journal50 in the middle of his notations on Rudelbach’s Savonarola. Kierkegaard’s fundamental position in relation to Rudelbach might immediately seem odd, since he is in a phase where “the outer” in relation to Christianity has become his central interest. But with “the outer” he, however, does not mean the institutions. Even if he, in a postscript to the same newspaper article, mentions a case where the outer, “the existing order” (“det Bestaaende”), can be of such a nature that the Christian must refuse it. This is, however, a task for the ideal: the truth-witness, the blood-witness, Savonarola. In April 1851 Kierkegaard thus began his (renewed) reading of Rudelbach’s book on Savonarola. He reflects on it and makes notations with appropriate references. The principle is that he simply collects material and expressions and views in Savonarola, anything that he can fit into his own way of theologizing, which he then makes use of—loyally or according to whim. In the journal we follow his reading over several weeks. His first entry reads as follows: “John of Salisbury said to pope Hadrian Iv in a conversation about the Roman Church: today everything can be had for money, tomorrow one will not be able to get anything without money. cf. Rudelbach Savonarola p. 8.”51 As an introduction to his Savonarola biography, Rudelbach gives an overview up to Savonarola’s time, a “Signatur des funfzehnte Jahrhunderts,”52 of tendencies in the theological and ecclesial debate, among other things, with a longer quotation from John of Salisbury (1115–74), who delivered a scathing criticism of papal power—a criticism which is like the harbinger of Savonarola’s characterization of the pope as Anti-Christ more than 300 years later. Immediately before the sentence about money which Kierkegaard quotes, he mentions John’s charge against the pope: “Sie bringen Verwirrung über die Kirche...und achten Gottesfurcht für eine Handelsware.”53 “An Open Letter prompted by a Reference to Me by Dr. Rudelbach,” Fædrelandet, January 31, 1851, SV1 XIII, 437ff. / COR, 51. 49 Ibid. 50 SKS 24, 219, NB23:30 / JP 4, 6758. 51 SKS 24, 239, NB24:19. 52 Rudelbach, Hieronymus Savonarola und seine Zeit, pp. 7–54. 53 Ibid., p. 8. 48

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The next few entries that Kierkegaard makes in the journal are about “dying”— giving up one’s money and fortune: “it is precisely this, that to which one can die, which the natural man naturally and obviously loves as much as he loves his life.”54 But to die to, that is the challenge. Such a demand can seem to be humanly difficult, unreasonable—and surprising. It can seem to be straightforwardly deceptive when one comes to be alone with God and becomes aware of the consequences—that is, of being a Christian. Here come the longest passages from Savonarola, which Kierkegaard translated from Rudelbach, in a Lent sermon in 1495. while Savonarola is at the peak of his power as prior of the San Marco cloister, he speaks to God, complaining that he has been deceived: You, O Lord, who have created all good, have stolen my heart, and deceived me as no man has ever been deceived. For when over a long period of time I beseeched you to show me the mercy of never being under obligation to supervise others, you have done just the opposite and little by little have drawn me into the position where I now stand, without my becoming aware of it. In short, I longed for a quiet life, and you lured me forth with your bait, just as a bird is caught with birdlime. If I had seen it, I would perhaps not be standing where I now stand.55

Savonarola continues with images of how he had been deceived and concludes with Jeremiah: “I have thereby become a laughingstock every day; everyone mocks me.” Kierkegaard elaborates: “But so it is with God’s upbringing: he deceives a man into the truth. He perceives the truth in imagination—it looks so inviting, he cannot release it, he goes along—and now he stands right in the middle of reality, and the matter is altogether different.”56 Somewhat further on in the journal, in the aforementioned entry on God’s faithfulness/unchangeableness, Kierkegaard explains the deception. He used and twisted and turned it from many angles; he used it on Regine—“To be deceived by a scoundrel was in her favor”57—but the deception, in particular, is a central, effective means in the entire theory of indirect communication. when in the summer of 1848 he writes The Point of View On My Work as an Author, he states that from this point of view the esthetic writing is a deception....One can deceive a person out of what is true, and— to recall old Socrates—one can deceive a person into what is true. Yes, in only this way can a deluded person actually be brought into what is true—by deceiving him....one begins this way: Let us talk about the esthetic. The deception consists in one’s speaking this way precisely in order to arrive at the religious.58

what is new about deception in 1851 is that it no longer concerns an author, who deceptively leads the reader’s attention towards Christ—but concerns God who deceives the person, who will be a Christian: “he deceives a man into the truth.” 54 55 56 57 58

SKS 24, 330, NB24:21 / JP 3, 3758. SKS 24, 331–2, NB24:24 / JP 4, 3839. Ibid., translation modified. SKS 22, 370, NB14:44 / JP 5, 6538. SV1 XIII, 541–2 / PV, 53–4.

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And it is precisely in this position, by their very lives, that the truth-witnesses are models: “Chrysostom says: The lives of the apostles and not their miracles have converted the world. This is quoted by Savonarola. cf. Rudelbach Savonarola p. 189 at the bottom 190 top.”59 Kierkegaard, as he so often did both before and after, critically examined his own life in the note entitled “My position.”60 He has just taunted Goldschmidt—again—for his search for sympathy. Now he himself whines about what “reward” he can expect for the struggle that he was waging for the cause of Christianity, “how thankless the battle is.”61 He finds a fellow sufferer in Savonarola, who “says someplace that he must remind them about what he had said so often: A great benevolence can be repaid only by great ingratitude. Excellent,”62 exclaims Kierkegaard and becomes absorbed in thought. And he inserts this directly into Judge for Yourself!63 The entries over the next few days—after the May 2 meeting with Mynster— consist of brief remarks on Rudelbach’s book, especially the chapters on Savonarola’s views on dogmatics (pp. 372–3) and his works on apologetics (pp. 386–7).64 IV. The Mirror—God’s Word and Christian Scholarship, 1851 The last entry on Savonarola in the journal, where Kierkegaard goes back to p. 341 in Rudelbach’s book, takes up, comments on and further develops Savonarola’s mirror metaphor. The Epistle of James: The word Is a Mirror. How To Look at Yourself in a Mirror with True Blessing. (1) You must not look at the mirror, the frame, for example (the blood-witness Savonarola stresses this), but look at yourself in the mirror. Yet this is precisely what has been done with God’s word as the mirror. This accounts for all those auxiliary sciences in connection with the word which examine the mirror, the frame, etc., instead of looking at oneself in the mirror.... (4) To look at yourself in the mirror is a feminine art. But a woman looks at herself in the mirror in order to see her beauty. It is true that she also sees unbeautiful features, but she does not look at herself in the mirror just to look at them but rather to camouflage them with a more attractive appearance. But earnestness, masculinity, means to look at yourself—in God’s word—in order to see how you actually look.

SKS 24, 333, NB24:27. SKS 24, 333, NB24:28 / JP 4, 4216. 61 Ibid. 62 SKS 24, 334, NB24:29 / JP 2, 1516. In the margin Kierkegaard notes: “see Rudelbach Savonarola, p. 208.” 63 SV1 XII, 428 / JFY, 153: “An excellent man has excellently said that a great favor can be properly rewarded only with great reproach. Superb!” 64 SKS 24, 337, NB24:32 / JP 4, 3840. SKS 24, 338, NB24:33 / JP 4, 3841. SKS 24, 338, NB24:34 / JP 2, 1517. SKS 24, 338, NB24:35 / JP 4, 3842. SKS 24, 339, NB24:37 / JP 3, 3460. 59 60

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Most people are afraid to look at themselves. It is, after all, a hazardous sight; once one has seen it, he does not get over it very easily.... (6) ...yet do not despair but begin with the most important, the decisive thing—to change before the mirror in accordance with the requirement of the mirror.65

The formulations are twisted and turned in the following drafts to For Self-Examination: “(1) You must not look at the mirror, observe the mirror (its frame, border, etc.), but must see yourself in the mirror (a quotation from Savonarola—a martyr). But is this not what we are doing. Introductory scholarship and everything pertaining to it.”66 The final wording, which appears in print in For Self-Examination, is my introductory quotation to the present article. Savonarola’s name has been eliminated; the monk has been used, and now the name can be thrown away. Only traces of this pious, excellent man remain. And thus we have Savonarola’s and Kierkegaard’s common primary reference: the Letter of James. Before we sketch the perspectives involved in the mirror metaphor, we shall look at what passage in Savonarola is at issue here. Savonarola speaks of the conditions for a fruitful reading of the Holy Scriptures. And the first condition is that one has the “Geist” of faith. It is a misunderstanding to think that one can understand the scripture “ohne das übernatürliche Licht des Glaubens.” Subsequently it is a question of receiving God’s word in the correct manner: Man muß fleißig lesen...ganz wie ein Frauenzimmer, das sich im Spiegel sieht, nicht um die Dinge im Spiegel oder was zum Spiegel gehört, zu entdecken, sondern um ihr Angesicht zu sehen, ob etwas ihr nicht gut stehe. So mub die Seele zur Lesung der Heil. Schrift gehen, um das Angesicht des Gewissens zu sehen, ob nicht irgend ein Makel oder eine Runzel drinnen, und um sich zu schmücken vor den Augen ihres ewigen Bräutigams. Dann mub aber der Mensch wieder zum Gebete zurückkehren, und den Herrn bitten, dab er ihm die wahrgenommenen Fehler vergebe, und Gnade schenke, das, was ihm durchs Lesen geboten ist, auch ins Werk zu setzen.67

The mirror image comes from the Epistle of James in the New Testament, where the manner of appropriating the word of God is compared to “a man, who looks at his physical face in a mirror” (James 1:23). There is a striking difference of detail in the manner in which the two readers of the Bible use the image of the mirror. The monk simply and consistently compares the reading with a woman, who concentrates on herself in the mirror—without fastening on the mirror as such. She studies her face for any faults and defects; similarly, the soul should study its conscience for stains and wrinkles—and thus pray to God for forgiveness for them. This is a sober and neutral imagery with a remarkable understanding of female vanity, which one perhaps would not have expected from the ascetic preacher of repentance. Kierkegaard reuses the image of the woman before the mirror, but he turns it and trivializes it, because he has to air his sexism, namely, by juxtaposing the female superficial reflection with the male serious one! In his work, the woman looks at SKS 24, 339–40, NB24:39 / JP 4, 4562. Pap. X–6 B 2, p. 9 / FSE, Supplement, p. 229, translation modified. See also SKS 24, 425–6, NB24:159 / JP 4, 3902. 67 Rudelbach, Hieronymus Savonarola, p. 341. 65 66

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herself in the mirror in order to see her beauty: she is not looking for flaws in her beauty as such, and the ones she sees she wants to cover up. In Savonarola the heart of the image is that “she”, that is, the conscience, prays to God for forgiveness for her shortcomings. In any case, when Kierkegaard takes over this mirror imagery, it is because Savonarola redirects James’ simile so that the word of God, that is, the New Testament, should be read literally—without the intervention of Christian scholarship. “Above all, read the N.T. without a commentary.”68 This is the way it is formulated in an earlier draft of For Self-Examination, from March 1850. And further in May of the same year he writes: The matter is quite simple. The New Testament is very easy to understand. But we human beings are really a bunch of scheming swindlers; we pretend to be unable to understand it because we understand very well that the minute we understand we are obliged to act accordingly at once....Therefore we humans pretend to be unable to understand the N.T.; we do not want to understand it. Here Christian scholarship is the human race’s prodigious invention to defend itself against the N.T., to ensure that one can continue to be a Christian without letting the N.T. come too close. Christian scholarship was invented to interpret, clarify, more sharply illuminate, etc., the N.T. well, thanks!69

In Rudelbach’s book Kierkegaard could read that Savonarola refused “ein Menge von Commentarien” to the Holy Scriptures. “Dann werden wir sie auch leicht verstehen, ohne so viele Logik und Philosophie.”70 And what is so easy to understand is “das, was ihm durchs Lesen geboten ist, auch ins Werk zu setzen.”71 To do as God’s word commands—this is the result in practice of what is decisive in the mirror metaphor; that is, that one in front of the mirror changes in accordance with what the mirror, the word of God, demands. V. Doers of the Word—Drawing James Forward The material to For Self-Examination was—with good inspiration from Savonarola— close to being complete. The book was published, as a direct communication, without any pseudonymous tricks, by S. Kierkegaard on September 10, 1851. As the introductory scriptural passage (after the apparatus with preface and preliminary remarks, etc.) he quotes this passage from the Epistle of James: The Epistle as written in the book of the Apostle James Chapter 1, verse 22 to the end. But be doers of the word, and not only hearers of it, whereby you deceive yourselves. If anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer of it, he is like a man who observes his bodily face in a mirror, for he would observe himself and go away and at once forget

68 69 70 71

SKS 23, 151, NB16:84 / JP 1, 210. SKS 23, 241, NB17:102 / JP 3, 2872. Rudelbach, Hieronymus Savonarola, p. 340. Ibid., p. 339.

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what he was like. But he who looks into the perfect law of freedom and perseveres has not become a forgetful hearer but a doer of a work; he shall be blessed in his work....72

This is a dangerous quotation for a Lutheran. And the quotation is then immediately followed up with a sketch of the historical conflict in the church about faith and acts. In the Middle Ages, acts were regarded as meritorious in themselves. Then Luther entered the stage and placed faith in its righteous place. And “he decided that in order to get things straight: The Apostle James must be shoved aside.”73 The poet Kierkegaard now has Luther arise from the grave so that he can examine contemporary Christians and their faith, and thus evaluate the results of the Reformation; the poet believes that he would certainly conclude that “the Apostle James must be drawn forward a little.”74 And why? Because with the Reformation one brought faith and grace into such a dominant role that one entirely removed acts. Kierkegaard in this way smartly corrects Luther, who claims “faith and grace as the only redemption and salvation.” This is Luther’s “major premise,” and Kierkegaard does not want to change it. But he does want to “pay a little more attention to the minor premise (works, existence, to witness to and suffer for the truth, works of love, etc.).”75 And thus follows a thorough analysis of the scriptural passage in James: “be doers of the word, and not only hearers of it,” with the point of departure in the mirror imagery and the pious blood-witness, Savonarola. And as always in Kierkegaard, there must be a love affair in the imagery in order to make things clear, for example, in the entire question about “God’s word” and “the frame of the mirror”: Which books are authentic? Are they really by the apostles, and are the apostles really trustworthy? ...As for ways of reading, there are thirty thousand different ways. And then this crowd or crush of scholars and opinions...is it not true that all this seems to be rather complicated? God’s Word is the mirror—in reading or hearing it, I am supposed to see myself in the mirror—but look, this business of the mirror is so confusing that I very likely never come to see myself reflected.76

“Ein Menge von Commentarien...Above all, read the N.T. without a commentary,” shout Savonarola and Kierkegaard in chorus. “Therefore, in order to make something out of this, let us take a simple human situation,” says the poet. “Imagine a lover who has received a letter from his beloved...written in a language that the lover does not understand....”77 And thus the issue is twisted and turned—to read with or without a dictionary, etc.—in the light of the reading of a love letter. All of this is then just to illuminate the constellation of issues that Kierkegaard sketches in one of the first drafts to For Self-Examination in March 1850: “I open 72 73 74 75 76 77

SV1 XII, 307 / FSE, 13. SV1 XII, 308 / FSE, 16. Ibid. SV1 XII, 315 / FSE, 24. SV1 XII, 316 / FSE, 25–6. Ibid.

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the N.T. and read: ‘If you want to be perfect, then sell all your goods and give to the poor and come and follow me.’ Good God, all the capitalists, the officeholders, and the pensioners no less, the whole race, except the beggars: we would be sunk if it was not for the scientific scholarship!”78 VI. To Die To. James, Savonarola—and “Her,” Regine Olsen, 1851, 1852, and 1843 “On Sunday, May 18 [1851], I preached in Citadelskirken. It was on my first, my dear, text: James 1. Also, I confess, with the thought of ‘her,’ also whether it would give her pleasure to hear me.”79 He never entirely released “her,” Regine Olsen—who in 1847 was married and became Regine Schlegel. And yet she was there in the Citadel Church in May 1851, and heard him. In May 1852 both he and she were at the morning service in Slotskirken, where pastor paulli was preaching on James 1:17–21: “Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above and comes down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no change or shadow of variation.” Kierkegaard records: upon hearing these words she turns her head, hidden by the one sitting next to her, and looks toward me very fervently. I looked vaguely straight ahead. The first religious impression she had of me is connected with this text, and it is one I have strongly emphasized. I actually did not believe that she would remember it, although I do know (from Sibbern) that she has read the Two Discourses of 1843, where this text is used.80 So on wednesday she nodded to me—and today the text—and she is aware. I confess that for me too it was somewhat jolting. Paulli finished reading the text aloud. She sank down rather than sat down, and I actually was somewhat worried as I was once previously, for her movement is so passionate.81

This is the reason for Kierkegaard’s preference for James: “The first religious impression she had of me is connected with this text....” The “dear” text, James 1, contains everything: “her,” everything good comes from above, doers of the word, and even one more thing: endurance in the face of trials. “My brethren, count it all joy when ye fall into divers temptations” (James 1:2). In 1846, Kierkegaard had been sporadically interested in this passage in connection with the work, “The Gospel of Sufferings,”82 but gradually, and specifically after his encounter with Savonarola, he became strengthened in the thought that “suffering is the mark of the relationship with God.” The paradox here is “that precisely that religion which primarily and singularly has taught that God is love, teaches or demonstrates by SKS 23, 241, NB17:102 / JP 3, 2872, translation modified. Kierkegaard treats the quotation from the New Testament, Mt 19:21, in more detail in “Gospel of Sufferings” from 1847, SKS 8, 323ff. / UD, 221. 79 SKS 24, 365, NB24:74 / JP 5, 6769, translation modified. 80 The second of the two discourses bears the title: “Every Good Gift and Every perfect Gift Is from Above,” SKS 5, 39ff. / EUD, 31ff. 81 SKS 24, 522, NB25:109 / JP 6, 6800, translation modified. 82 SKS 20, 48, NB:49 / JP 6, 5945. 78

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means of the prototypes that to relate to this loving God is to suffer, indeed the more inwardly, the greater the suffering!”83 During his reading of Savonarola, the issue of imitation is made sharper, and this happens in the usual Kierkegaardian manner: the knife is twisted and turned in the thought-wound—in an entry entitled, “Essential Christianity.” He imagines the prototype: one thing is that he, the Righteous One, must suffer, but not only that; the moment inevitably comes when he feels that God has also abandoned him. “How dreadful that having a relationship with God should be like this.”84 In the margin to this entry, Kierkegaard remarks: “Thus it is, for example, with Savonarola when he is in prison, and on the whole this suffering belongs to the specific suffering of the truth-witnesses.”85 with this remark Kierkegaard has reached p. 261 in Rudelbach’s book, where Savonarola after unimaginable torture meets a group of fellow monks from San Marco—and he asks them to send fervant prayers for him up to God, “dessen prophetischer Geist mich jetzt fast gänzlich verlassen hat.”86 “Suffering is the mark of the relationship with God.” The same applies in its own way to the relationship of love. For this reason the love-relation is so painfully suited to illustrating what it means to be a Christian, as it occurs in Self-Examination. Thus, one thinks that one is in love. He looks at the beloved, the object, “the delight of his eye and the desire of his heart.”87 He holds her in his hand. Then the message is: let go of the object. Terribly! But further, she too, thinks it is terrible. Further, he himself must end it. “Here you have an example (that is, if he manages to get around the sharp corner without losing his mind) of what it is to die to.”88 To die to means to let go of one’s most beloved possessions, of one’s own selfishness, of every earthly hope, of the world. Only then does one receive—by means of the spirit who gives life89—faith: that is, the hope of eternity and salvation. And only then does the spirit bring love, that is, Christian love. To die to means to wound selfishness at the root—just as in the case of Abraham. In For Self-Examination a direct line is drawn to Fear and Trembling, to the double movement there. The first movement then, in 1843, was the movement of infinity or resignation, which means that one was prepared to give up everything earthly—that which now, in 1851, is called “to die to.”90 The hero in Fear and Trembling, Abraham, made this movement, but he made another one, the difficult one, the wonderful one: the movement of faith, that is, he believed that he would receive everything again. “He

SKS 24, 490, NB25:71. SKS 24, 37, NB24:31 / JP 2, 1896. 85 SKS 24, 337, NB24:31.b / JP 2, 1898. 86 Rudelbach, Hieronymus Savonarola, p. 261. 87 SV1 XII, 361–2 / FSE, 78–9. 88 Ibid. 89 The headings in For Self-Examination, SV1 XII, 360 / FSE, 75, reference to 2 Cor 3:6. 90 Kierkegaard treated previously the pietistic concept of “dying to the world” or the temporality; see, for example, SKS 5, 315 / EUD, 325 and SKS 10, 81 / CD, 721 with the accompanying commentaries. 83 84

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did not believe that he would be saved in the hereafter but that he would be blessed here on earth...by virtue of the absurd.”91 Abraham also felt faith as a disquieting thing, just like “the tax collector” in Fear and Trembling,92 the contemporary figure, whom one can only imagine because faith in this work is inward; it is not seen in the outward sphere. “I have worked for this restlessness orientated toward inward deepening,” says the “unauthorized poet” of self-examination, S. Kierkegaard.93 But now there has come another kind of “hero of faith” onto the scene, the truth-or blood-witness. “Just as God created man and woman, so he created the hero and the poet or orator. The poet or orator can do nothing that the hero does; he can only admire, love, and delight in him.”94 Thus, the pseudonym Johannes de silentio sketches the roles in Fear and Trembling—with reference to Abraham and himself respectively. The corresponding new creation in For Self-Examination is called the poet S. Kierkegaard and the truth- or blood-witness (Savonarola). The poet: one may think of the difference between a “common” Christian’s life and the life of the truth-witness—he who suffered for faith and “was rewarded with the curses of a whole generation”95 (which is said with an echo of Savonarola’s “excellent” words that a great benevolent deed can only be repaid with great ingratitude96). These two are certainly saved! An injustice crying to heaven, which everyone can see—one can relate to this by recalling “these glorious men every single day.”97 The difference between the hero of faith in Fear and Trembling and the truthwitness in For Self-Examination is a question of an inward relation of faith in God as one life-possibility, and another a life in suffering imitation, where one not only hears the words: “go and sell what you own, and come and follow me”—but actually does it. One dies from this world. when Savonarola, in the breaks between being tortured, holds the mirror up to himself in the word of God in order to discover his “transgressions,” he must concede to God: “Certainly I have sinned for You alone, for You have commanded me to love You for your own sake, but I have loved creation more than You. I have loved it for its own sake. But what else is sin than blind love of the world for the sake of the world?”98 Regardless of whether Kierkegaard read Savonarola’s Expositions or not, it is as if it is now for and about Savonarola that he is speaking: “Not until you have died to the selfishness in you and thereby to the world so that you do not love the world or anything in the world, do not selfishly love even one single person—not until you in loving God have learned to hate yourself, not until then can one speak of that love that is Christian love.”99 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99

SKS 4, 131 / FT, 36, translation modified. SKS 4, 133ff. / FT, 38ff. SV1 XII, 312 / FSE, 21. SKS 4, 112 / FT, 15. SV1 XII, 314 / FSE, 24. SV1 XII, 428 / JFY , 153. Cf. note 63 above. SV1 XII, 314 / FSE, 24. Savonarolas Betragtninger, ed. by wøldike, p. 21. SV1 XII, 366–7 / FSE, 83–4, translation modified.

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VII. Blood-Witnesses and Honesty, 1854, 1855, and Today when Kierkegaard calls attention to prototypes, imitators, martyrs, truth- and bloodwitnesses, it is not to entice good people to go en masse to their death for Christianity. For his own part, the role as martyr could perhaps seem attractive, but “I am not yet capable of becoming a martyr for Christianity, for I dare not to such a degree call myself a Christian. I am actually a genius, who could possibly become a martyr for the truth, that is, for truly presenting what Christianity is,” he says in the fall of 1848.100 And here he chooses for himself the role as “an unauthorized poet who influences by means of the ideals.”101 The ideal, the imitator, “is intended to keep order, to teach humility and the need for grace, to put an end to doubt.”102 what he stirs up is the cheap, mild and distorted Christianity of the established order, the scholars, the pastors, and the bourgeoisie: what detestable mendacity, what a mean slandering of all the heroes of faith and the martyrs and the witnesses to the truth and the models! But so it always is with us! what we want to be exempted from is dangers and efforts and everything that flesh and blood are against. Yes, Christianity, too, is lenient, in the form of an admission—note this well; in the form of an admission—it can spare the single individual much when he humbly admits his own condition, can also spare him this truly Christian venturing when he humbly admits his own condition.103

Here—in Judge for Yourself, the posthumously published continuation of For SelfExamination—here then comes the demand: admission. Here we have the preacher of repentance who preaches conversion of all the “so-called Christians,”104 conversion in the form of admission. This is demanded of the believer in general—and with the admission he is spared. But the admission is demanded above all of the pastors: either they must practice “a strenuous life, strenuous in self-denial and renunciation” and witness for Christianity, or they must—if they choose the mild form—humbly renounce “Christian dignity.”105 It is in this sense that it is such a disaster that professor Martensen called the deceased Bishop Mynster a truth-witness. Kierkegaard himself could well have said many good things about Mynster, but not this! Concerning the scholars, he who carries out Christian scholarship, “the professor”— he must simply be brushed off, because he with his science “shifts the whole viewpoint of Christianity.”106 Incidentally, this man, this profession, is mentioned nowhere in the New Testament! Or, as he writes caustically in the journal in 1854: “One thing is to suffer; to become a professor of another’s having suffered is something else.”107 SKS 21, 98, NB7:45. SV1 XII, 312 / FSE, 21. 102 SKS 24, 384, NB24:103 / JP 2, 1903. 103 SV1 XII, 384 / JFY, 101–2. 104 Cf. “The Sort of person who is Called a Christian” in The Moment, no. 7, where the blood-witnesses are also mentioned, SV1 XIv, 244ff. / M, 229ff. 105 SV1 XII, 406 / JFY, 128. 106 SV1 XII, 462 / JFY, 195. 107 SKS 26, 176, NB32:84 / JP 3, 590, translation modified. 100 101

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Thus, the prototype must be brought forth at least “to procure some respect for Christianity.”108 This is what Kierkegaard uses Savonarola for. Although he is not mentioned by name, he—and his words—pervade Kierkegaard’s final works. He is—after the apostles—one of the few historical prototypes and blood-witnesses. Moreover, he might primarily have served Kierkegaard as an inspiration by sharpening his thoughts and positions, which were already underway in the poet’s mind and on paper. Kierkegaard himself sums up in Fædrelandet on March 31, 1855, what it is that he wants—and how far he dares to go: “I do not dare to call myself a Christian; but I want honesty, and to that end I will venture.”109 How then should the reader today relate to this poet and what he wanted to draw attention to: to the ideal, to the tribulations implied in calling oneself a Christian. At first there is the “possibility of offence,” which is one of the great turning points in Practice in Christianity. when one is made aware—of Christ—then one either believes or is offended (that is, turns away from Christ and his “cause”: “blessed is he who is not offended by me,” as Jesus says, Matthew 11:6). If one is a believer, then honesty, humility and admission are certainly worth considering. If one is offended, then one can rely on Kierkegaard’s respectful words—in Stages on Life’s Way—about Heine, Feuerbach, and others: They frequently are well informed about the religious—that is, they know definitely that they do not want to have anything to do with it. This is a great advantage over the systematicians, who without knowing where the religious really lies take it upon themselves to explain it—sometimes obsequiously, sometimes superciliously, but always unsuccessfully. An unhappy, a jealous lover can know just as much about the erotic as the happy lover, and, similarly, someone offended by the religious can in his way be just as well informed about it as the believer. At present, when our age seldom has a great believer to show, we must always be pleased to have a few really clever ones who are offended.110

As a clever offended person, one might perhaps—with Kierkegaard—point to all the paltry hypocrites, “the so-called Christians,” who since then have not become fewer in number. Translated by Jon Stewart

108 109 110

SV1 XII, 475/ JFY, 209. SV1 XIv, 55 / M, 49. SKS 6, 417–18 / SLW, 452.

Bibliography I. Savonarola’s Works in The Auction Catalogue of Kierkegaard’s Library None. II. Works in The Auction Catalogue of Kierkegaard’s Library that Discuss Savonarola Carriere, Moriz, Die philosophische Weltanschauung der Reformationszeit in ihren Beziehungen zur Gegenwart, Stuttgart and Tübingen: J.G. Cotta’scher verlag 1847, pp. 318–23 (ASKB 458). Hase, Karl, Kirkehistorie. Lærebog nærmest for akademiske Forelæsninger, trans. by C. winther and T. Schorn, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1837, pp. 391–2 (ASKB 160–166). Herder, Johann Gottfried von, “Hieronymus Savonarola,” in Johann Gottfried von Herder’s sämmtliche Werke. Zur Philosophie und Geschichte, vols. 1–22, Stuttgart and Tübingen: J.G. Cotta 1827–30, vol. 15, pp. 75–82 (ASKB 1695– 1705; see also ASKB A I 114–124). Lenau, Nicolaus, Savonarola. Ein Gedicht, Stuttgart und Tübingen: verlag der J.G. Cotta’schen Buchhandlung 1837 (ASKB 1743). [Münscher, wilhelm], Dr. Wilhelm Münschers Lærebog i den christelige Kirkehistorie, til Brug ved Forelæsninger, trans. by Fred. Münter, revised and ed. by Jens Möller, Copenhagen: Trykt paa universitets-Boghandler F. Brummers Forlag 1831, p. 197 (ASKB 168). Rudelbach, Andreas Gottlob, “Hieronymus Savonarola og hans Tid. Fremstillet efter Kilderne,” Tidsskrift for udenlandsk theologisk Litteratur, vols. 1–20, ed. by Henrik Nikolai Clausen and Matthias Hagen Hohlenberg, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1833–52, vol. 4, 1836, pp. 231–310 (ASKB u 29). zimmermann, Johann Georg, Ueber die Einsamkeit, vols. 1–4, Leipzig: bey weidmanns Erben und Reich 1784–85, vol. 2, p. 145 (ASKB 917–920). III. Secondary Literature on Kierkegaard’s Relation to Savonarola None.

Gerhard Tersteegen: Kierkegaard’s Reception of a Man of “Noble piety and Simple wisdom” Christopher B. Barnett

On August 7, 1851, Kierkegaard issued On My Work as an Author and Two Discourses at the Communion on Fridays. Two days later he met with Bishop Jakob peter Mynster (1775–1854), who already had received copies of these works. Mynster told Kierkegaard that On My Work as an Author was “a clue to the whole” of his authorship.1 But Kierkegaard thought this was an understatement. As he recounts, “I answered that the point to bear in mind was this, to have been so devoted, over many years and in much writing, to one thing, that my pen had not made one single deviation.”2 whether or not Kierkegaard’s writings display such constancy is a matter of debate. Indeed, Mynster himself told Kierkegaard that “the little review of Two Ages was an exception.”3 And yet, from another perspective, it is significant that Kierkegaard wanted On My Work as an Author to specify this constancy, that, for him, this short treatise would point out that “the authorship, regarded as a totality, is religious from first to last.”4 Not everyone, he knew, would understand it that way, for persons see what they want to see.5 But On My Work as an Author afforded him the opportunity to clarify how his writings reflect upon the religious “in such a way that it is completely taken back out of reflection into simplicity.”6 In other words, the endpoint of his authorship is “to reach, to arrive at simplicity.”7 As has been seen, Kierkegaard saw this religious movement as the “point” of his literary efforts—a point that On My Work as an Author was to make clear. For that reason, it is fitting that this text’s epigraph was taken from a writer to whom Kierkegaard ascribed “noble piety and simple wisdom,”8 Gerhard Tersteegen (1697–1769):

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

SKS 24, 397–8, NB24:121 / JP 6, 6777. Ibid. Ibid. SV1 XIII, 495 / PV, 6. Ibid. SV1 XIII, 495 / PV, 6–7. SV1 XIII, 495 / PV, 7. SKS 23, 360, NB19:43 / JP 4, 4757, emphasis added.

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Christopher B. Barnett whoever believes is great and rich, He has God and the Kingdom of Heaven. whoever believes is small and poor, He only cries: Lord, have mercy!9

These lines constitute the twenty-sixth stanza of Tersteegen’s devotional poem, “voice out of the Sanctuary,” which Kierkegaard read in an 1841 anthology of Tersteegen’s writings.10 Here Tersteegen articulates a basic paradox of faith: the believer is simultaneously great and small, rich and poor, because he or she is in a relationship with God. Yet, as a “simple wise person,” Tersteegen does not try to “cancel” this paradox.11 Rather, he lets it remain, indicating that he recognizes the limitations of human knowledge. This is the passionate simplicity championed by Kierkegaard—a simplicity immersed “in comprehending the paradox as paradox.”12 These considerations suggest why Kierkegaard employed Tersteegen’s words as an epigraph to On My Work as an Author. But does Tersteegen’s impact on Kierkegaard go further? With some justification, one might suppose not. After all, Kierkegaard does not cite Tersteegen anywhere else in his published authorship. Moreover, in a break from his customary use of epigraphs, Kierkegaard does not even identify Tersteegen as the author of the epigraph to On My Work as an Author. The four lines from “voice out of the Sanctuary” stand alone. On the other hand, Marie Thulstrup sees Tersteegen as a decisive influence on Kierkegaard. As she writes in her short monograph, Kierkegaard and Pietism, “Socrates was wise to [Kierkegaard], Brorson and Johann Arndt old and venerable, but Tersteegen overshadowed them all.”13 Kierkegaard’s own language provides the basis for this remark. An 1849 journal entry lauds Tersteegen’s ability to root his thought “in experience and life,” thereby concluding, “Truly in [Tersteegen] there is inward truth.”14 A later passage puts it even stronger: “On the whole Tersteegen is incomparable.”15 These comments are not anomalous. During the 1849–50 period, Kierkegaard scattered a number of accolades about Tersteegen in the journals.

SV1 XIII, 490 / PV, 2. Gerhard Tersteegen, Auswahl aus Gerhard Tersteegens Schriften nebst dem Leben desselben, ed. by George Rapp, Essen: G.O. Bädeker 1841 (ASKB 729), p. 509. Kierkegaard also owned Tersteegen’s collected works: [Gerhard Tersteegen], Des gottseligen Arbeiters im Weinberge des Herrn: Gerhard Tersteegen’s...gesammelte Schriften, vols. 1–4, vol. 1, Stuttgart: L.F. Rieger’sche Buchhandlung, vols. 2–4, Stuttgart: Becher und Müller 1844–45 (ASKB 827–830). Curiously, however, he always cites Rapp’s anthology. 11 SKS 7, 207–8 / CUP1, 227–8. 12 SKS 7, 207 / CUP1, 227–8. 13 Marie Mikulová Thulstrup, Kierkegaard og Pietismen, Copenhagen: Munksgaard 1967 (Søren Kierkegaard Selskabets Populære Skrifter, vol. 12), p. 35. Translations from foreign language titles are my responsibility, though, unless otherwise noted, translations from Kierkegaard’s works have been taken from the standard Hong and Hong English editions. 14 SKS 22, 114, NB11:190 / JP 4, 4753. 15 SKS 23, 360, NB19:43 / JP 4, 4757. 9

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Tersteegen’s thinking, he says, is “beautiful,”16 “superb,”17 “very penetrating,”18 “very true,”19 “excellent,”20 “correct.”21 Of course, these remarks do not prove that, for Kierkegaard, Tersteegen “overshadowed” persons as significant as Socrates. However, they do mark Tersteegen as an important figure in his own right—indeed, as one whose influence on Kierkegaard demands investigation. The task of this essay is to fulfill that demand. It will explore Kierkegaard’s reception of Tersteegen, arguing that, like other pietists, Tersteegen looms large in the background of Kierkegaard’s thought. In particular, it will point out some of the key themes that attracted Kierkegaard to Tersteegen—the necessity of an existential realization of Christianity and, conversely, the trouble with a merely intellectual or formal approach to the faith, along with the importance of imitating Christ’s humble human life. In the process, it also will be shown that Tersteegen was a mediator of mystical piety to Kierkegaard. Before turning to these topics, however, it is essential to provide an introduction to Tersteegen’s life and thought. For his role in eighteenthcentury pietism helps illuminate his impact on Kierkegaard. I. That Tersteegen played a part in the devotional movement (Frömmigkeitsbewegung) known as pietism has been mentioned. However, it also must be said that Tersteegen confounds any straightforward understanding of the pietist movement. For example, Tersteegen belonged to the Reformed tradition, while many of the great pietists— persons such as Johann Arndt (1555–1621), philipp Jakob Spener (1635–1705), August Hermann Francke (1663–1727), and Count Nikolaus Ludwig von zinzendorf (1700–60)—had a Lutheran background. Moreover, in contrast to these and other pietist leaders, Tersteegen did “not stand in a pietist reform movement.”22 He did not promote the establishment of “separatist communities,” but, rather, preferred to work as a freestanding pastoral caregiver (Seelesorger), offering spiritual counsel through religious talks, hymns and poems, sermons, and a massive pastoral correspondence.23 This reluctance to join up with more organized pietist groups put Tersteegen in the camp of Radical pietism, which tended to harbor skepticism about the institutionalization of Christianity. Yet, for his admirers, he was not so much a “radical” as “a protestant saint.”24 To borrow from the words of Johann SKS 22, 110, NB11:182 / JP 4, 4750. SKS 23, 374, NB19:68 / JP 4, 4760. SKS 22, 111, NB11:184 / JP 4, 4751. SKS 22, 114, NB11:190 / JP 4, 4753. SKS 22, 161, NB12:31 / JP 4, 4754. 18 SKS 22, 113, NB11:188 / JP 4, 4752. 19 SKS 22, 178, NB12:65 / JP 4, 4755. 20 SKS 23, 360, NB19:43 / JP 4, 4757. 21 SKS 23, 380, NB19:78 / JP 4, 4761. 22 Johannes wallmann, Der Pietismus, Göttingen: vandenhoeck & Ruprecht 1990 (Die Kirche in ihrer Geschichte, vol. 4), p. 33. 23 Ibid. 24 Quoted from Hansgünter Ludewig, “Gerhard Tersteegen,” in The Pietist Theologians, ed. by Carter Lindberg, Oxford: Blackwell 2005, pp. 190–205; p. 190. 16 17

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Heinrich Jung-Stilling (1740–1817), the physician, political economist, and friend of Goethe, “[Tersteegen] engendered more true Christians than anyone since the Apostolic period. His numerous disciples among the common people are found from Amsterdam to Bern, and they are surely the best among all the pietists.”25 Tersteegen’s beginnings did not foreshadow such an impact. He came from a modest family in Mörs, Germany, and, though he received a sound “general education,” he was to exchange his schooling for a mercantile apprenticeship in nearby Mülheim.26 But this life did not suit him. He was drawn to religious thinking and practices, and, in 1717, a powerful “conversion experience” convinced him to devote himself to God.27 Soon after, Tersteegen came under the influence of Wilhelm Hoffmann (ca. 1676–1746), a theological student who led a separatist conventicle in Mülheim. In contrast to other pietist leaders in the area, Hoffmann was not a polemicist.28 His inclination was toward the “mystical-quietistic piety” of persons such as pierre poiret (1646–1719).29 Tersteegen came to adopt this posture as well. Distressed by the hypocrisy of the official church, he withdrew from public worship services, even refusing to take part in the Eucharist.30 His spiritual nourishment now came from the practice of “continual prayer,” which he learned from the study of the French Catholic Quietist, Madame Guyon (1648–1717). As Hansgünter Ludewig explains, “The simple prayer directs attention inward to the heart, the hidden place, where the presence of God may be sought....Thus the heart is experienced as the place where Christ is drawn in and imparts himself to us.”31 Yet, for Tersteegen, it was not enough to separate from ordinary ecclesial life. He also sought to take leave of the world. He assumed the lifestyle of a hermit, giving away much of his inheritance and living off bread, water, and milk.32 Profiting from and building on the pietist reclamation of Catholic mystical literature—which was popularized above all by Arndt, who issued numerous editions of pre-Reformation monastic texts, including a selection of sermons by Johannes Tauler (ca. 1300–61), the “Deutero-Taulerian”33 spiritual guide, Theologia deutsch, and The Imitation of Christ by Thomas à Kempis (1380–1471)—Tersteegen immersed himself in the reading and translation of devotional works, not to mention regular Bible study and

Ibid. Ibid., p. 191. 27 Ibid. 28 wallmann, Der Pietismus, p. 33. 29 Ibid. 30 Ibid. 31 Ludewig, “Gerhard Tersteegen,” p. 191. 32 Ibid., p. 192. 33 The expression is George Huntston williams’, who rightly points out that the Theologia deutsch recapitulates much of Tauler’s thought, so much so that, for centuries, it was thought to be from Tauler’s own hand. See G.H. williams, “popularized German Mysticism as a Factor in the Rise of Anabaptist Communism,” in Glaube, Geist, Geschichte: Festschrift für Ernst Benz zum 60. Geburtstage am 17. November 1967, ed. by Gerhard Müller and winfried zeller, Leiden: E.J. Brill 1967, pp. 290–312; pp. 291–2. 25 26

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prayer.34 It was a “period of waiting and seeking for illumination,”35 which came to an end when, after several years of seclusion, Tersteegen found that he “no longer had to desire nearness to God by his own concentration, but on the contrary it happened freely.”36 Thus he began to temper his asceticism and to turn back to society. This return to public life had two distinct, but nevertheless interconnected, aspects. On the one hand, Tersteegen became personally involved in the pietist “awakenings” that ranged across the Mülheim region. He preached, heard confessions, counseled families, provided spiritual direction for the monastic community of pilgerhütte, attended to the sick and to the dead, and, as has been noted, penned countless letters of spiritual instruction.37 Such activities endeared him to many, but his increased visibility brought discord, particularly vis-à-vis certain pietist tendencies. zinzendorf and his Moravian followers sought Tersteegen’s cooperation for years, but a 1741 meeting between the two leaders only confirmed their differences: Zinzendorf thought that Tersteegen’s emphasis on sanctification fostered spiritual pride, whereas Tersteegen insisted that sanctification is precisely the gradual annihilation of such pride.38 Further, Tersteegen opposed the so-called “Eller Sect,” a group of ecstatic pietists who prophesied against their church congregation and, in turn, flew to an independent rural colony, complete with its own place of worship and parsonage.39 while Tersteegen himself had a separatistic bent, he did not endorse such outright schism. As he once put it, “I seek from the heart the best local congregation.”40 This approach characterized Tersteegen’s efforts during the first half of the 1750s, when he regularly addressed assemblies in his own home. These gatherings could exceed 600 people, obliging Tersteegen to open up holes “in the floors of the house so that he could be well understood above and below from the middle floor.”41 Not surprisingly, such popularity disconcerted local magistrates and clerics, but Tersteegen negotiated with them and, eventually, won “royal confirmation [to] hold assemblies in his house and also preach on Sundays.”42 It was not until the eruption of the Seven Years’ war in 1756 that these meetings began to wane. The other side to Tersteegen’s public role was his extensive and varied literary activity. wanting “to make available those writings that had led him to a life in the presence of God,”43 he issued a series of guides to the devout life. In 1727, for instance, he published his translation of the Manual of Piety by Jean de Labadie (1610–74),44 Ludewig, “Gerhard Tersteegen,” pp. 192–3. Ibid., p. 193. 36 Ibid. 37 Ibid., pp. 194ff. 38 Ibid., p. 198. 39 Ibid. Interestingly, a leading figure in the Eller Sect was Daniel Schleyermacher (1695–1776), the grandfather of the renowned theologian and philosopher, Friedrich Daniel Ernst Schleiermacher (1768–1834). 40 Ibid., p. 201. 41 Ibid. 42 Ibid., p. 202. 43 Ibid., p. 195. 44 Jean de Labadie, Hand-Büchlein der wahren Gottseligkeit, trans. by Gerhard Tersteegen, Frankfurt and Leipzig 1727 (photomechanical reprint, Köln: Rheinland verlag and Bonn: Habelt 1997). 34 35

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as well as a new edition of Thomas à Kempis’ The Imitation of Christ.45 Two years later, he put out what would become his best known work—Little Spiritual Garden of the Heartfelt Soul,46 a collection of his own devotional poems, songs, and aphorisms, including the still popular hymn, “God is present, Let us worship.” Several editions of the Little Spiritual Garden appeared in Tersteegen’s lifetime alone, and, in Johannes wallmann’s estimation, Tersteegen emerged as one of German protestantism’s three greatest hymnists, rivaled only by Martin Luther (1483–1546) and paul Gerhardt (1607–76).47 Thus it is ironic that Tersteegen’s early publications, including the Little Spiritual Garden, failed to receive authorization from the Reformed Church and so were issued under significant secrecy. The texts were distributed at book fairs in Frankfurt and Leipzig—lacking information regarding their printer and place of publication—and Tersteegen assumed the pseudonym, “G.T.St.”, a double entendre that not only alluded to his name, but also was short for “Gottseligkeit Trachtende Seele” (“A Soul Striving after the Blessedness of God”).48 Though not indifferent to dogmatic concerns—in fact, his posthumously published Impartial Outline of Basic Christian Truths49 was intended to instruct lay persons in doctrine50—Tersteegen’s later publications continued to accentuate the life of piety. Nowhere is this trend seen more clearly than in his greatest project, Selected Biographies of Holy Souls,51 which features the lives of a number of Catholic saints, including Francis of Assisi (1181–1226), Catherine of Siena (1347–80), Teresa of Avila (1515–82), John of the Cross (1542–91), Gregory Lopez (1542–96), and Marie of the Incarnation (1599–1672). The point of this project was basic: Tersteegen wanted to teach persons about “God’s interior guidance”52 so that they, too, might be spurred on toward holy living. He chose to work in the genre of biography, because, in his view, saints encourage persons more than doctrine.53 This orientation, obviously, brought Tersteegen into close contact with Catholic religious life. However, according to wallmann, his intention was not to “advertise for Catholic piety.”54 Rather, he maintained that Catholicism simply produced “more true evangelical Christians”55 than protestantism. Still, other notable publications

Thomä von Kempis, Bücher von der Nachfolge Jesu Christi, ed. by Gerhard Tersteegen, Frankfurt and Leipzig: walther 1727. 46 Gerhard Tersteegen, Geistliches Blumengärtlein inniger Seelen, Essen: G.D. Bädeker 1841. 47 wallmann, Der Pietismus, p. 35. 48 Ludewig, “Gerhard Tersteegen,” p. 195. 49 Tersteegen’s Unpartheiischer Abriss christlicher Grundwahrheiten, 2nd unchanged ed., Essen: G.D. Bädeker 1842 [1801]. 50 Ludewig, “Gerhard Tersteegen,” p. 193. 51 Gerhard Tersteegen, Auserlesene Lebensbeschreibungen Heiliger Seelen, vols. 1–3, Frankfurt and Leipzig: Böttiger 1733–53. 52 Ludewig, “Gerhard Tersteegen,” p. 196. 53 Ibid. 54 wallmann, Der Pietismus, p. 35. 55 Ibid. 45

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continued to draw on Catholic sources. Tersteegen later issued The Small Kempis,56 a selection of devotional sayings from Thomas à Kempis,57 while his Small String of Pearls58 allocates a lengthy section to the prayers and songs of Tauler, whom he calls “blessed” and “enlightened.”59 Tersteegen’s Catholic affinities, not to mention his reserve opposite reformers such as Luther and John Calvin (1509–64),60 ensured a problematic protestant reception, particularly outside of pietist circles. Albrecht Ritschl (1822–89) spoke for many when he cited Tersteegen as a “representative of an unchristian-Neoplatonic mysticism.”61 undoubtedly, Ritschl’s assessment is tendentious and therefore controversial. However, to underline Tersteegen’s association with Neoplatonic sources such as Tauler is neither inaccurate nor unhelpful, for it sheds light on Tersteegen’s so-called “Quietism.” Indeed, it would be a mistake to conclude that Tersteegen promoted Quietism at the expense of active Christian discipleship. Rather, like Tauler and others in the Deutsche Mystik tradition, he wanted discipleship to emerge out of an internal movement of “detachment,” whereby one withdraws from creaturely things and so surrenders oneself to the divine life. “Giving-in is a truly God-like virtue,”62 Tersteegen explains. This principle finds definitive expression in the Incarnation. whether as a helpless child in the manger or as a helpless man on the cross, Christ’s human life displayed complete receptivity to the Father.63 He detached himself from “alien things,” so that he could communicate God’s will in the world.64 Thus he “gave us an example (Vorbild) that we should follow his footsteps.”65 As Tersteegen writes: Our Jesus was silent for thirty years so that He might imbue us with the love of the life of withdrawal. In public life He spent scarcely four years. Often I think to myself: Oh, if we awakened souls could only endure four apprentice years of quiet praying and dying to self-will before we launched forth, then our subsequent activities would be a little purer and less injurious to the Kingdom of God in us and around us! This is the secret; but the

Gerhard Tersteegen, Der Kleine Kempis, Oder Kurtze Sprüche und Gebätlein: Aus denen meistens unbekannten Wercklein des Thomæ à Kempis zusammen getragen zur Erbauung der Kleinen, 4th expanded ed., Germantown: Gedruckt bey Christoph Saur 1750. 57 Johann Friedrich Gerhard Goeters, “Der reformierte pietismus in Bremen und am Niederrhein im 18. Jahrhundert,” in Der Pietismus im achtzehnten Jahrhundert, ed. by Martin Brecht, Klaus Depperman, ulrich Gäbler, and Hartmut Lehmann, Göttingen: vandenhoeck & Ruprecht 1995 (Geschichte des Pietismus, vol. 2), pp. 372–427; p. 398. 58 Gerhard Tersteegen, Kleine Perlen Schnur, für die Kleinen nur; hie und da zerstreut gefunden, jetzt beisammen hier gebunden, Golingen: p.D. Schmitz 1775. 59 Ibid., p. 169. Also see Goeters, “Der reformierte pietismus in Bremen und am Niederrhein im 18. Jahrhundert,” op. cit., pp. 401–2. 60 wallmann, Der Pietismus, pp. 35–6. 61 Ibid., p. 36. 62 Gerhard Tersteegen, The Quiet Way: Selections from the Letters of Gerhart Tersteegen, trans. by Emily Chisholm, London: Epworth press 1950, p. 51. 63 Ibid., pp. 25–6, p. 32. 64 Tersteegen, Auswahl aus Gerhard Tersteegens Schriften, p. 498. 65 Ibid., p. 499. 56

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Christopher B. Barnett Enemy, using the common and subtle temptations of nature, would entice us away from the ONE THING NEEDFuL and weaken our strength in a multiplicity of works.66

Tersteegen, then, is not an opponent of religious “works” per se, but, rather, aims to make sure that such works spring from the right motives—a concern that also encourages him to emphasize the political, social, and even ecclesial powerlessness of Christian existence. Just as Christ freely accepted “disgrace, poverty, and the cross,”67 leaving to “the Herods and to the pharisees their state (Staat), prestige, and leisureliness,”68 so must the disciple be detached from “pleasantness and enjoyment”69 and do God’s will in abasement. The pursuit and privileges of earthly power cannot be squared with authentic Christian discipleship. Earlier Tersteegen’s differences with zinzendorf were noted. However, it is germane that the “Moravian community spared no effort to bring Tersteegen ‘to their side,’ ”70 and that Tersteegen’s thought was labeled a kind of “Herrnhutist mysticism.”71 These points of connection suggest how Kierkegaard became acquainted with Tersteegen, for the Kierkegaard family itself was steeped in Moravian and pietist life. Kierkegaard’s father, Michael pedersen Kierkegaard (1756–1838), grew up in the west Jutland village of Sædding, where a number of local priests and Moravian emissaries fostered a pietist revival.72 Despite relocating to Copenhagen around 1768, M.P. Kierkegaard never abandoned this sort of Christianity. He affiliated himself with pietist priests such as Hans Sørensen Lemming (1707–88) and peder Saxtorph (1730–1803) of Nikolai Church,73 and, in the last decades of his life, he became one of the leaders of Copenhagen’s Moravian society (Brødresocietet), whose Sunday evening meetings attracted hundreds and hundreds of persons during the 1820s.74 Often accompanying Michael pedersen to these gatherings were his sons, peter Christian Kierkegaard (1805–88) and, of course, Søren Aabye. The latter never broke from these roots. Significantly, his library contained numerous books in the pietist tradition, which were “presumably in the family’s possession for a long time.”75 According to Niels Jørgen Cappelørn, these writings were “the most

Tersteegen, The Quiet Way, pp. 62–3. Tersteegen, Auswahl aus Gerhard Tersteegens Schriften, p. 497. 68 Ibid. 69 Tersteegen, The Quiet Way, pp. 62–3. 70 Ludewig, “Gerhard Tersteegen,” p. 198. 71 wallmann, Der Pietismus, p. 35. 72 Anders pontoppidan Thyssen, De ældre jyske vækkelser: Brødremenigheden i Christiansfeld og herrnhutismen i Jylland til o. 1815, Copenhagen: Gads Forlag 1967 (Vækkelsernes Frembrud i Danmark i første Halvdel af det 19. Århundrede, vol. 4), p. 18. 73 peter Tudvad, Kierkegaards København, Copenhagen: politikens Forlag 2006, p. 396. 74 Kaj Baagø, Vækkelse og Kirkeliv in København og Omegn, Copenhagen: Gads Forlag 1960 (Vækkelsernes Frembrud i Danmark i første Halvdel af det 19. Arhundrede, vol. 1), pp. 20–4. 75 Marie Mikulová Thulstrup, Kierkegaard og Pietismen, p. 13. 66 67

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characteristic in Kierkegaard’s book collection,” thereby indicating “how great a place the upbuilding had for him.”76 Thus Kierkegaard’s reading and appreciation of Tersteegen was not peculiar. On the contrary, it was part of a larger orientation, which involved both his personal and intellectual formation—a point that brings this essay back to its original task. Indeed, now that Tersteegen’s role in the Pietist movement has been clarified, it is appropriate to investigate Kierkegaard’s reception of the German mystic. That Kierkegaard responded positively to Tersteegen already has been seen. The next section, then, will focus on why that was the case. II. Kierkegaard did not read Tersteegen systematically. As was alluded to above, he never issued an analysis of Tersteegen’s thought, nor even mentioned Tersteegen in the body of a published work. Rather, he entered a number of references to Tersteegen in the journals, particularly during the period 1849–1850. These notes are not uniform in character. A couple of them are personal, as where Kierkegaard credits the writings of Tersteegen and François Fénelon (1651–1715)77 for convincing him to publish the Anti-Climacan works, The Sickness unto Death and Practice in Christianity.78 A few others are comparative, casually locating a resemblance between the two thinkers.79 Two more offer mild, almost persnickety, critiques of Tersteegen’s word choice80 and use of punctuation.81 And yet, amidst this variety, several entries suggest that Kierkegaard was drawn to a pair of themes in Tersteegen. First, he applauds Tersteegen’s criticism of a secularized, superficial religiousness, which busies itself with doctrinal niceties but neglects the existential realization of faith. Thus he cites the following “superb expression”82 by Tersteegen: “[Scholars] ought to consider that, among true believers, not one in a thousand may have a complete idea of their various expressions and distinctions, while, on the other hand, a thousand others have the words of truth, but not the truth of the words.”83 Doctrine itself, then, is not in question. There are Niels Jørgen Cappelørn, “Kierkegaard som bogkøber og bogsamler,” in Niels Jørgen Cappelørn, Gert possett, Bent Rohde, Tekstspejle: Om Søren Kierkegaard som bogtilrettelægger, boggiver og bogsamler, Esbjerg: Rosendahls Forlag 2002, pp. 105–219; see p. 135. 77 Along with Madame Guyon, Fénelon was another prominent representative of French Catholic Quietism. 78 SKS 22, 115, NB11:192 / JP 6, 6426. SKS 23, 415, NB20:42 / JP 6, 6762. 79 SKS 22, 107, NB11:177 / JP 2, 1390. SKS 23, 344, NB19.22a / JP 4, 4040. Also see SKS 22, 110, NB11:182 / JP 4, 4750. For instance, in a passage about how Christ’s passion disrupts “direct communication,” Kierkegaard parenthetically adds, “Tersteegen has called attention to this” (SKS 23, 344, NB19:22.a / JP 4, 4040). 80 SKS 22, 113, NB11:188 / JP 4, 4752. 81 SKS 409, NB20:32 / JP 4, 4763. 82 SKS 22, 111, NB11:184 / JP 4, 4751. 83 Ibid., my translation. Also see B&A, vol. 1, p. 242 / LD, Letter 217, p. 308, where Kierkegaard, in a letter to Janus Lauritz Andreas Kolderup-Rosenvinge (1792–1850), a 76

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“words of truth.” what is forgotten, however, is that these words make a claim on the believer’s life. Some persons overlook or fall short of this claim, but, for Kierkegaard, they are not as reprehensible as those who cunningly evade it. Accordingly, he sets down another Tersteegen quotation: “To hide unfaithfulness and lethargy, / Has one ranked with the weak; / For the sake of appearance, one shuns the pious appearance, / when one has no inclination to be pious.”84 Kierkegaard calls this observation “very true,”85 and, in fact, it seems to capture a point he had made in the Concluding Unscientific Postscript a few years before. There, writing as Johannes Climacus, he lampoons a secular-minded pastor who stresses the errors of monasticism. So urgent is this topic—and so threatening the external piety of the monastery—that the pastor “perspires and wipes away the perspiration” during his sermon.86 But, Climacus implies, this scene is a farce. Neither the pastor nor his listeners desire to live as monastics. Their earnest defense of “life’s innocent joys”87 merely covers for a bourgeois indolence that would put religious concerns “on the same level as the rank of captain of the popinjay shooting club and the like.”88 Elsewhere Kierkegaard praises Tersteegen’s ability to ground such insights in the Bible and in parables. Citing Tersteegen’s Epiphany sermon, which makes a distinction between the scribes and the three wise men,89 Kierkegaard writes: Alas, what a difference—the three kings had only a rumor to go on—but it moved them to travel a great distance. The scribes were informed in a quite different way; they sat and studied scripture as professors—but it did not move them. where was there more truth—in the three kings who pursued a rumor or in the scribes who remained sitting with all their knowledge. ...[Tersteegen] uses it—and splendidly—as the spiritual trial it must have been for the kings when the scribes, who gave them the information, remained passively in Jerusalem...for it is indeed a suspicious self-contradiction that the scribes should actually know this and yet remain passive. It is just as suspicious when someone knows about Christianity—and his own life expresses the opposite....90

According to Kierkegaard, Tersteegen’s parable of the sick person also encapsulates the dialectic between passivity and activity.91 The sick person, for Tersteegen, shows distinguished professor of law and Kierkegaard’s Monday afternoon walking partner, makes reference to this quotation. However, even though he calls Tersteegen “[a] devout man,” he does not allude to the religious context of Tersteegen’s saying. Rather, he uses the expression, “the words of truth,” to underline the sincerity of his wish to resume walking with KolderupRosenvinge when the professor returns from a journey to Sweden. 84 SKS 22, 178, NB12:65 / JP 4, 4755, my translation. 85 Ibid. 86 SKS 7, 366 / CUP1, 402. 87 Ibid. 88 SKS 7, 366–7 / CUP1, 402. 89 Mt 2:1–12. 90 SKS 23, 360, NB19:43 / JP 4, 4757. Also see SKS 23, 360, NB19:43.1 / JP 4, 4758. Incidentally, Kierkegaard already had mentioned his fondness for Tersteegen’s Epiphany sermon in an 1849 entry. See SKS 22, 114, NB11:190 / JP 4, 4753. 91 SKS 23, 380, NB19:78 / JP 4, 4761.

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his faith in a physician when he actually “gets in touch with this physician.”92 Likewise, if one’s faith “does not move [one] to act according to it, [one’s] having faith is imaginary...”93 Kierkegaard makes his agreement clear. As he puts it, “Tersteegen is correct...”94 Still, one might wonder, what does this “active faith” look like? Does it have a pattern? These questions suggest the second Tersteegen theme to which Kierkegaard was attracted—namely, that of “detachment.” An 1849 journal entry, quoting Tersteegen’s “On the Difference and progress in the Blessedness of God,”95 establishes Kierkegaard’s appreciation of this motif: But where does it come from that, on the whole, such valuable writings are so little honored and used? Is it not therefore because the inquisitive reason does not find such nourishment in them, also that the old interest of the flesh and of the deep ground of one’s own life are weakened too severely in them, and they do not call for reason and speculation like other books—which accommodated a bit more according to the preference of the old Adam and of reason—but for mortification and denial?96

In recording this “superb” passage, Kierkegaard also notes that the “valuable writings” extolled by Tersteegen are those of “the mystics.”97 He might have added that this same Tersteegen piece describes “mystics” as those who “serve and adore God in spirit and in truth, with a withdrawal of their love and their confidence from all creatures.”98 In other words, mystics are those who practice the virtue of “detachment.” Subsequent journal entries come back to this issue. In one place, Kierkegaard intimates that, for Tersteegen, consolation does not come from creaturely things— not even from fellow human beings—but only from God.99 Another passage offers a quotation from Tersteegen’s 1754 Christmas sermon: “Yes, souls, evacuate your hearts of your sins, of the world and of all your vanities; for Christ wants to come and be born in us.”100 Kierkegaard comments, “Tersteegen says it beautifully...”101 And, at last, a third entry refers to a similarly themed Tersteegen hymn:

Ibid. Ibid. 94 Ibid. 95 Tersteegen, Auswahl aus Gerhard Tersteegens Schriften, pp. 426–53. 96 Quoted in SKS 22, 161, NB12:31 / JP 4, 4754, my translation. Also see Tersteegen, Auswahl aus Gerhard Tersteegens Schriften, p. 443. 97 SKS 22, 161, NB12:31 / JP 4, 4754. 98 Tersteegen, Auswahl aus Gerhard Tersteegens Schriften, p. 443. 99 SKS 23, 346, NB19:26 / JP 4, 4756. 100 Quoted in SKS 23, 374, NB19:68 / JP 4, 4760, my translation. Also see Tersteegen, Auswahl aus Gerhard Tersteegens Schriften, pp. 87–116; p. 108. 101 SKS 23, 374, NB19:68 / JP 4, 4760. 92 93

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Each of these citations touches on some aspect of “detachment.” The aim is to attain union with God—something Tersteegen alludes to in phrases such as “Christ wants to come and be born in us” and “Secluded inside with thee”103—but, again, this union is only possible if one breaks or detaches from worldly things. It is important to note that such things are not “bad” per se. To be more precise, they are attractions that, if approached improperly, coax the self to focus on its own wants and needs rather than on God. Thus detachment, particularly in the tradition emanating from Tauler and finding popularity among Pietists, is above all a matter of self-denial. Its practitioner is purged of self-will, and, for that reason, he or she is able to interact with the world in the manner of Christ, fully moved by God and devoted to humble service. Kierkegaard does not explicitly link Tersteegen’s interest in detachment to the related theme of imitatio Christi, even though, as has been shown, Tersteegen himself coupled these two subjects. Kierkegaard briefly notes one of Tersteegen’s observations about Jesus’ life—namely, that “Gethsemane lies closest to the highest bliss”104—but refrains from connecting this observation to a larger point. Nevertheless, he could not have missed Tersteegen’s development of the imitation of Christ, and, in fact, one can locate parallels between their respective treatments of the motif. This similarity is particularly evident vis-à-vis Christ’s human life and its ramifications for Christian discipleship. Just as Tersteegen stresses Christ’s earthly humility and poverty, so does Kierkegaard underscore the so-called “kenotic hymn” of philippians: “[Christ] emptied himself, / taking the form of a slave, / being born in human likeness. / And being found in human form, / he humbled himself / and became obedient to the point of death— / even death on a cross.”105 Moreover, also like Tersteegen, Kierkegaard stresses that Christ’s “lowly form”106 involves a detachment from the structures of temporal power. Christ was not a “military commander,” “robed in purple,” or a “powerfully influential” person.107 Rather, in his renunciation of self-interestedness and in his single-minded pursuit of God’s will, “[Christ] was self-denial.”108 As such,

Quoted in SKS 23, 409, NB20:32 / JP 4, 4763, my translation. Kierkegaard has amended Tersteegen’s punctuation. Cf. Tersteegen, Auswahl aus Gerhard Tersteegens Schriften, p. 81. 103 Notably, Tersteegen’s word for “Secluded” is “abgeschieden.” This is a clear nod to German mysticism’s stress on “detachment,” since Abgeschiedenheit (a derivative of the verb, abscheiden, which literally means “divided from”) often was used to signify “detachment.” Another, perhaps more famous, term for “detachment” is Gelassenheit. 104 SKS 23, 361, NB19:45 / JP 4, 4759. 105 phil 2:7–8. Quoted in SKS 8, 322–3 / UD, 221. 106 SKS 8, 325 / UD, 223, my translation. 107 SKS 8, 325 / UD, 224. 108 Ibid. 102

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he himself perdures as the benchmark for Christian discipleship: “His presence is the judging,”109 Kierkegaard explains. These reflections date from the 1847 Upbuilding Discourses in Various Spirits. In the following years, Kierkegaard would continue to develop them, stressing the imitatio motif in works such as Practice in Christianity, For Self-Examination, and Judge for Yourself!—texts that were written during or just after Kierkegaard’s most intensive engagement with Tersteegen. That Tersteegen impacted this “turn” in Kierkegaard’s authorship is a virtual certainty. And yet, it may be that Tersteegen’s greatest contribution to Kierkegaard’s thought escapes textual analysis, for, after all, one cannot calculate reverence. “In [Tersteegen] I find genuine and noble piety and simple wisdom,”110 Kierkegaard wrote in 1850. Over a century later, Marie Thulstrup boldly paraphrased this sentiment as follows: “Kierkegaard respected and honoured Tersteegen as a witness of truth.”111 In the end, what is most surprising—and more than a little intriguing—is that her estimation does not seem excessive.

109 110 111

SKS 8, 326 / UD, 224–5. SKS 23, 360, NB19:43 / JP 4, 4757. Marie Mikulová Thulstrup, Kierkegaard og Pietismen, p. 40.

Bibliography I. Tersteegen’s Works in The Auction Catalogue of Kierkegaard’s Library Auswahl aus Gerhard Tersteegen’s Schriften, nebst dem Leben desselben, ed. by Georg Rapp, Essen: G.D. Bädeker 1841 (ASKB 729). Des gottseligen Arbeiters im Weinberge des Herrn: Gerhard Tersteegen’s... gesammelte Schriften, vols. 1–4, vol. 1, Stuttgart: L.F. Rieger, vols. 2–4, Stuttgart: Becher und Müller 1844–45 (ASKB 827–830). II. Works in The Auction Catalogue of Kierkegaard’s Library that Discuss Tersteegen [Tauler, Johann], Johann Tauler’s Nachfolgung des armen Lebens Christi, new ed. by Nikolaus Casseder, Frankfurt am Main: Hermann 1821, p. vIII; pp. 245–7 (ASKB 282). III. Secondary Literature on Kierkegaard’s Relation to Tersteegen Šajda, peter, “ ‘The wise men went another way’: Kierkegaard’s Dialogue with Fénelon and Tersteegen in the Summer of 1849,” in Kierkegaard and Christianity, ed. by Roman Králik et al., Toronto and Šaľa: Kierkegaard Circle 2008 (Acta Kierkegaardiana, vol. 3), pp. 89–105. Thulstrup, Marie Mikulová, “Studies of pietists, Mystics, and Church Fathers,” in Kierkegaard’s View of Christianity, ed. by Niels Thulstrup and Marie Mikulová Thulstrup, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1978 (Bibliotheca Kierkegaardiana, vol. 1), pp. 60–80. —— Kierkegaard og Pietismen, Copenhagen: Munksgaard, 1967, pp. 32–42. —— “pietism,” in Kierkegaard and Great Traditions, ed. by Niels Thulstrup and Marie Mikulová Thulstrup, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1981 (Bibliotheca Kierkegaardiana, vol. 6), pp. 196–207.

Index of persons Abraham, 239, 240. Abraham a Sancta Clara (1644–1709), Austrian divine, 1–20, 34, 35, 36, 39, 143, 144. Adler, Adolph peter (1812–69), Danish philosopher and theologian, 17. Agricola, Johann (1494–1566), German protestant reformer and humanist, 89, 90, 91. Albert of Brandenburg (1490–1545), Cardinal and Elector of the Holy Roman Empire, 121. Alexander a Latere Christi (d. 1719), Austrian author, 3. Andreae, Johann valentin (1586–1642), German theologian, 22. Angelus Silesius (1624–77), German mystic and poet, 8. Anselm of Canterbury (1033–1109), Scholastic philosopher, 178. Anselm of Laon (ca. 1050–117), Scholastic philosopher, 148. Anton, paul, 149. Aquinas, Thomas (ca. 1225–74), Scholastic philosopher and theologian, 178. Aristotle, 90. Arndt, Johann (1555–1621), German protestant theologian, 21–30, 44, 50, 70, 71, 77, 150, 163, 164, 169, 246–8. Arnim, Ludwig Achim von (1781–1831), German poet, 7. Arnold, Gottfried (1666–1714), German pietist, church historian, 154. Arrebo, Anders Christensen (1587–1637), Danish poet and bishop in Trondheim, 161. Arsenius, Saint, 17. Augustine of Hippo (354–430), Church Father, 11, 35, 197–9.

Baader, Benedict Franz Xaver von (1765– 1841), German philosopher, 43, 51, 52, 54, 56, 140. Bach-Nielsen, Carsten, 163. Balle, Nicolai Edinger (1744–1816), Danish bishop, 163, 164. Barfod, Hans peter (1834–92), editor of Kierkegaard’s Efterladte Papirer, 63. Barrett, Lee C., 101, 102, 185. Baur, Ferdinand Christian (1792–1860), German theologian, 51. Becker, Karl Friedrich (1777–1806), German historian, 132. Bering, vitus (1617–75), Danish poet, 160. Bernard of Clairvaux (1090–1153), Church Father, 11, 35. Betke, Joachim (1601–63), German protestant Theologian, 22. Beutel, Albrecht, 191. Billeskov Jansen, Frederik Julius (1907– 2002), Danish literary scholar and author, 161, 162. Birgitta of Sweden (1303–73), mystic and saint, 35. Blosius, Ludovicus or Louis de Blois (1506–66), Flemish Benedictine spiritual author, 11, 31–41, 143, 144. Bluhme, Johannes Bartholomæus (1681– 1753), Court chaplain of the Danish King Christian vI, 65. Boccaccio, Giovanni (1313–75), Italian author, 224. Böhme, Jacob (1575–1624), German mystic, 22. Bossuet, Jacques-Bénigne (1627–1704), French theologian and bishop, 131. Botticelli, Sandro, i.e., Alessandro di Mariano dei Filipepi (ca. 1445– 1510), Italian artist, 222, 224. Böttiger, Karl wilhelm (1790–1862), German historian, 8.

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Bragstad, william R., 190, 191. Brahe, Tycho (1546–1601), Danish astronomer, 44. Breckling, Friedrich (1629–1711), German pastor and author, 22. Brentano, Clemens (1778–1842), German poet and author, 7. Briant, Jonathan, 69. Brorson, Hans Adolph (1694–1764), Danish pietistic poet, 63–79, 158, 246. Brøchner, Hans (1820–75), Danish philosopher, 8. Bucer, Martin (1491–1551), German protestant reformer, 22. Bukdahl, Jørgen (1896–1982), Danish writer, 69, 164. Bullinger, Heinrich (1504–75), Swiss protestant reformer, 85, 86. Buonarrotti, Michelangelo (1475–1564), Italian artist, 222, 224. Burgess, Andrew J., 69, 158, 186. Calvin, John (1509–64), French protestant theologian, 44, 81–110, 251. Carriere, Moriz (1817–95), German philosopher and historian, 52, 55, 56. Catherine of Siena (1347–80), Italian mystic, 35, 250. Charles v, Holy Roman Emperor (1500–58), 31, 32, 113, 173. Charles vIII, King of France (1470–98), 224. Christ, 6, 15, 17, 26, 28, 36, 37, 44, 46, 47, 50, 67–75 passim, 78, 83, 85, 87, 91–8 passim, 103–7 passim, 116, 118, 123, 124, 152, 162, 166–70 passim, 181, 183, 187, 189, 194–6, 204, 207, 221, 224, 233, 251, 255, 256. Christian III, King of Denmark (1503–59), 173, 178. Christian v, King of Denmark (1646–99), 160. Christian vI, King of Denmark (1699– 1746), 65, 68, 163. Chrysostom, Saint John (ca. 345–407), Church Father, 35, 234. Cicero, 117. Claudius, Matthias (1740–1815), German poet, 131, 136, 139–43.

Clausen, Henrik Nicolai (1793–1877), Danish theologian and politician, 119. Colet, John (1467–1519), English Renaissance theologian, 111, 112. Comenius, Johann Amos (1592–1670), Czech educator and writer, 22. Dante Alighieri (1265–1321), Italian poet, 160. Descartes, René (1596–1650), French philosopher, 54. Diogenes Laertius, 4, 138. Dorotheus, Saint, 15. Eck, Johann (1486–1543), German protestant theologian, 33. Eckermann, Johann peter (1792–1854), Goethe’s friend and private secretary, 124. Eckhart or Meister Eckhart (ca. 1260–ca. 1328), German mystic, 22, 33, 37, 39, 53. Eichendorff, Joseph Freiherr von (1788– 1857), German poet and author, 8. Elert, werner, 92. Emmerich, Christian, 115. Erasmus of Rotterdam, i.e., Desiderius Erasmus Roterodamus (1466/69– 1536), Dutch humanist, 85, 111–27. Erigena, John Scotus (810–877), Irish Neoplatonist philosopher, 44. Ersch, Johann Samuel (1766–1828), German academic, 4. Fénelon, François de Salignac de la Mothe (1651–1715), French writer, 129–47, 154, 253. Ferdinand of Styria, i.e., Ferdinand II, Holy Roman Emperor (1578–1637), 44, 46. Ferreira, Jamie, 187–9, 191. Feuerbach, Ludwig (1804–72), German philosopher, 242. Fichte, Johann Gottlieb (1762–1814), German philosopher, 134, 135. Ficini, Marsilio (1433–99), Italian philosopher, 222. Flögel, Karl Friedrich (1729–88), German literary historian, 18, 119.

Index of Persons Foligno, Angela de (1248–1309), Italian nun, mystic and author, 22. Francis of Assisi (1181–1226), Founder of the Franciscan Order, 250. Franck, Sebastian (1499–1543), German chronicler and historiographer, 47. Francke, August Hermann (1663–1727), German protestant theologian, 22, 28, 149–56, 247. Franckenberg, Abraham von (1593–1652), mystic writer, 50. Frederick III, the wise (1486–1525), ruler of Saxon, 176. Frederik III, King of Denmark (1609–70), 159. Frederik Iv, King of Denmark (1671–1730), 64. Frederik v, King of Denmark (1723–66), 68. Friedrich v, the Elector palatine (1596– 1632), King of Bohemia, 44. Froye, Jacques (d. 1586), editor of Blosius’ Opera omnia, 36. Galle, Friedrich, 84, 100. Gattinara, Mercurino (1465–1530), Italian cardinal, 124. Gerhardt, paul (1607–76), German protestant pastor and hymn writer, 250. Gertrude the Great (1256–1302), a German Benedictine and mystic writer, 35. Giødwad, Jens Finsteen (1811–91), Danish jurist and journalist, 14. Gippus, Gilles, 31. Glad, Rasmus, known also as Erasmus Lætus (1526–82), Danish humanist, theologian and poet, 161. Goethe, Johann wolfgang von (1749–1832), German poet, author, scientist and diplomat, 6, 114, 123, 130, 133, 165, 248. Goeze, Johann Melchior (1717–86), German pastor, 4, 5. Goldschmidt, Meïr Aron (1819–87), Danish author, 232, 234. Görres, Joseph von (1776–1848), German Romantic writer, 52. Grassmann, Andreas, 67. Gregory I or Gregory the Great, pope (ca. 540–604), 11.

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Gruber, Johann Gottfried (1174–1851), German author and literary historian, 4. Grundtvig, Nikolai Frederik Severin (1783– 1872), Danish poet and theologian, 157, 158, 226, 231. Guarini, Giovanni Battista (1538–1612), Italian poet and diplomat, 160. Guericke, Heinrich Ernst Ferdinand (1803– 78), German protestant theologian, 152. Guyon, Jeanne-Marie Bouvier de la Motte (1648–1717), 130, 131, 135, 136, 143, 248. Hall, Amy Laura, 97, 98, 101, 186–9. Hamann, Johann Georg (1730–88), German philosopher, 122, 134, 158. Hammerich, Martin (1811–81), Danish author, 14. Hare, John, 96. Hartknoch, Johann Friedrich (1740–89), German publisher, 134. Hase, Karl (1800–90), German theologian, 132. Hegel, Georg wilhelm Friedrich (1770– 1831), German philosopher, 50–6 passim, 131, 158. Heine, Heinrich (1797–1856), German poet and author, 242. Henry, paul Emil (1792–1853), German theologian, 82–4, 100. Herder, Johann Gottfried (1744–1803), German philosopher, 130, 133, 134, 165. Herodotus, 138. Hersleb, peder (1689–1757), bishop of zealand, 66. Hesselink, John, 102. Hillerbrand, Hans J., 192. Hoburg, Christian (1607–75), German mystic theologian, 22. Hoffmann, wilhelm (ca. 1676–1746), German protestant mystic, 248. Hoffmann von Hoffmannswaldau, Christian (1616–79), German poet, 160. Holberg, Ludvig (1684–1754), Danish dramatist and historian, 68. Holbæk, Ole Jonæsen, 65. Hong, Howard v. (b. 1912), American translator, 55, 56.

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Horace, 139. Hossbach, wilhelm, 152. Ild, Samuel Jensen (1638–99), Danish pastor, 163. Jacob of voragine (ca. 1230–98), an Italian chronicler and archbishop of Genoa, 16. Jacobi, Friedrich Heinrich (1743–1819), German philosopher, 135, 137, 139. Jacobsen, Lis (1882–1961), Danish philologist, 226. Jean paul, i.e., Johann paul Friedrich Richter (1763–1825), German author, 6, 7, 135, 143. Jerome, Saint, 112. Jesus, see “Christ.” Joachim of Fiore (ca. 1135–1202), Italian mystic and theologian, 47. Jöcher, Christian Gottlieb (1649– 1758), German academic and lexicographer, 3, 4, 34, 132. John of the Cross (1542–91), Spanish mystic, 33, 250. Judas Iscariot, 16–8. Jung-Stilling, Johann Heinrich (1740–1817), 247. Kangas, David, 56. Kant, Immanuel (1724–1804), German philosopher, 117. Kempis, Thomas à (ca. 1380–1471), Dutch mystic and monk, 39, 70, 77, 248, 250, 251. Kepler, Johannes (1571–1630), German astronomer and mathematician, 44. Kierkegaard, Michael pedersen (1756– 1838), Søren Kierkegaard’s father, 69, 151, 164, 252. Kierkegaard, peter Christian (1805–88), Danish theologian, elder brother of Søren Kierkegaard, 63, 69, 164, 252. Kierkegaard, Sophie Henriette, b. Glahn (1809–81), Søren Kierkegaard’s sister-in-law, 168. Kierkegaard, Søren Aabye (1813–1855), The Concept of Irony (1841), 7, 13, 54, 119. Johannes Climacus, or De omnibus dubitandum est (ca. 1842–43), 54.

Either/Or (1843), 4, 5, 132, 137, 165, 185, 219, 221. Fear and Trembling (1843), 55, 219, 239, 240. Two Upbuilding Discourses (1843), 238. Three Upbuilding Discourses (1843), 167. Four Upbuilding Discourses (1843), 74. Four Upbuilding Discourses (1844), 15, 23, 24, 71, 135, 137, 138, 229. Philosophical Fragments (1844), 184, 229. The Concept of Anxiety (1844), 43, 54–6. Stages on Life’s Way (1845), 74, 137, 138, 242. Concluding Unscientific Postscript (1846), 5, 141, 254. A Literary Review of Two Ages (1846), 245. The Book on Adler (ca. 1846–47), 24. Upbuilding Discourses in Various Spirits (1847), 168, 169, 256, 257. Works of Love (1847), 11, 14–8, 34, 83, 97–101 passim, 169, 170, 186–9. Christian Discourses (1848), 17, 34, 74, 165. The Point of View for My Work as an Author (ca. 1848), 76, 233. The Sickness unto Death (1849), 24, 73, 129, 142–4, 253. Practice in Christianity (1850), 24, 27, 74–6, 123, 154, 190, 191, 220, 242, 253, 257. On My Work as an Author (1851), 245, 246. For Self-Examination (1851), 27, 82, 101, 191, 219, 221, 229, 231, 235–41 passim, 257. Two Discourses at the Communion on Fridays (1851), 245. The Changelessness of God (1855), 168. Judge for Yourself! (1851–52, published posthumously in 1876), 101, 104, 191, 234, 241, 257. Søren Kierkegaards Papirer (1909–48), 116. Journals, Notebooks, Nachlaß, 9, 10, 12, 15–7, 23–6, 28, 34, 37–9, 53, 55, 63, 71, 72, 75. 100, 104, 118–23 passim, 133, 139, 142, 152, 154, 157, 158,

Index of Persons 165, 166, 169, 184, 185, 188–200 passim, 232, 233, 246, 253, 255. Kingo, Thomas (1634–1703), Danish poet, 69, 157–71, 164. Kirmmse, Bruce H., 151. Koch, L.J., 66. Koenker, Ernest, 184. Kolb, Robert, 91. Labadie, Jean de (1610–74), French pietist, 249. Landsberg, Johannes Justus of (ca. 1489– 1539), Carthusian writer, 33, 36. Lausten, Martin Schwarz, 162. Lavater, Johann Kaspar (1741–1801), Swiss poet, 6. Law, David, 76. Leibniz, Baron Gottfried wilhelm von (1646–1716), German philosopher and mathematician, 130, 133, 143. Lemming, Hans Sørensen (1707–78), Danish pietist pastor, 69, 164, 252. Lenau, Nicolaus, see “Strehlenau, Niembsch von.” Lessing, Gotthold Ephraim (1729–81), German writer and philosopher, 4, 5. Levin, Israel (1810–83), Danish philologist, 54. Loen, Johann Michael von (1694–1776), German author and scholar, 136. Lopez, Gregory (1542–96), Catholic saint, 250. Louis XIv, King of France (1638–1715), 130, 133. Lucifer, 49. Ludewig, Hansgünter, 248. Ludolf, Heinrich wilhelm (1655–1712), German academic, 64. Luther, Martin (1483–1546), German religious reformer, 21, 24, 27, 38, 81–103 passim, 113, 114, 117, 121–4, 152, 159, 161, 164, 173–217, 220–5 passim, 229, 230, 237, 250. Luyken, Caspar (1672–1708), Dutch artist, 3. Luyken, Jan (1649–1712), Dutch poet, illustrator and engraver, 2. Madvig, Johan Nicolai (1804–86), Danish philologist, 141.

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Maintenon, Madame de, i.e., Françoise d’Aubigné Scarron, Marquise de Maintenon (1635–1719), 130, 133. Marheineke, philipp (1780–1846), German theologian, 115, 116, 122. Marie of the Incarnation (1599–1672), Catholic saint, 250. Märklin, Christian (1807–49), German protestant theologian, 152. Marnach, Johann, 22. Martensen, Hans Lassen (1808–84), Danish theologian, 51, 53, 54, 56, 76, 122, 134, 137, 220, 231, 241. Matthias, Markus, 150. Mechtilde, Saint (1240/41–98), 15, 35. Medici, Lorenzo de, the Magnificient (1449–92), Italian statesman, 222, 223. Medici, piero de (1472–1503), Lorenzo de Medici’s son, 223, 224. Megerle, Abraham (1607–80), Abraham a Sancta Clara’s uncle, 1. Megerle, Johann ulrich, see “Abraham a Sancta Clara.” Meier, Friedrich Karl (1808–41), 226. Melanchthon, philipp (1497–1560), German protestant reformer, 44, 84–92 passim, 98–103 passim, 114, 174. Menzel, wolfgang (1798–1873), German author and journalist, 7, 133. Meuer, Joseph, 11. Michelangelo, see, “Buonarrotti, Michelangelo.” Milton, John (1608–74), English poet, 160. Molbech, Christian (1783–1857), Danish philologist and literary scholar, 7. Molière, i.e., Jean Baptiste poquelin (1622–73), French dramatist, 4. Molinos, Miguel de (1628–96), Spanish divine, 133, 136, 149. Møller, Jens (1779–1833), Danish theologian and editor, 135. Moller, Martin, 44. More, Thomas (1478–1535), English humanist scholar and statesman, 111, 113, 114. Moréri, Louis (1643–80), French Encyclopaedist, 4, 34, 132. Moses, 183. Mühlpfort, Heinrich (1639–81), German Baroque poet, 161.

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Müller, Adolf (after 1858 Schottmüller) (1798–1871), German historian, 120. Müntzer, Thomas (1490–1525), German theologian and Anabaptist, 86. Mynster, Jakob peter (1775–1854), Danish theologian and bishop, 136, 141, 220, 231, 232, 234, 241, 245. Neukirch, Benjamin (1665–1729), German lawyer and scholar, 130. Oetinger, Friedrich Christoph (1702–82), German pietist and spiritualist, 50. Olsen, Regine (1822–1904), 220, 233, 238. Origen (ca. 185–ca. 254), Church Father, 119. Osiander, Lukas II or Jr. (1571–1638), German theologian, 22. Ozment, Steven, 89, 97, 178, 183. palladius, peder (1503–60), Danish bishop, 226. paphnutius, Saint, 14. pappus, Johann (1549–1610), German protestant minister and church organizer, 22. paracelsus, philippus Aureolus, i.e., Theophrastus Bombastus von Hohenheim (1493–1541), German physician and alchemist, 44. pascal, Blaise (1623–62), French mathematician, physicist and philosopher, 140. paul, 92–4, 115, 118, 123, 152, 180, 187, 198–200. paulli, Just H.v. (1809–65), Danish pastor, 238. pedersen, poul (unknown dates, 17th century), Danish poet, 160. periander, 137–9, 143. perthes, Friedrich Christoph (1772–1843), German publisher, 132. peter, 168. peter Damian, Saint (ca. 1007–72), 117. petersen, August, 84. petrarch, Francesco (1304–74), Italian scholar and poet, 160. pico della Mirandola, Giovanni (1463–94), Italian Renaissance philosopher, 222–4.

plato, 134. pleijel, Hilding, 21. poiret, pierre (1646–1719), French mystic, 248. poliziano, Angelo (1452–94), Italian poet, 222. pontopiddan, Erik Ludvigsen (1698–1764), Danish theologian and author, 66, 69, 164. pope Alexander vI (1492–1503), 225. pope Innocent XII (1615–1700), 131. pope Julius II (1443–1513), 113, 116. praetorious, Lorenz, 69. prenter, Regin, 184, 191. Reitzel, Carl Andreas (1789–1853), Danish publisher, 9. Resen, Hans poulsen (1561–1638), Danish theologian and bishop, 159. Reuss, Johannes Christian, 69. Richter, Gregor (1560–1624), German pastor, 45. Ritschl, Albrecht (1822–89), German liberal theologian, 251. Roscoe, william (1753–1831), English historian and writer, 116. Rudelbach, Andreas Gottlob (1792–1862), Danish theologian, 157, 221–36 passim, 239. Rudolph II, Holy Roman Emperor (1550– 1632), 43. Ruysbroeck, Jan van (1293–1381), Flemish mystic, 33. Sailer, Johann Michael (1751–1832), German Jesuit theologian, 131. Salluste du Bartas, Guillaume (1544–90), French poet, Hugenot, 160. Sandhagen, Caspar Hermann (1639–97), German protestant theologian, 149. Savonarola, Hieronimus, also known as Girolamo Savonarola (1452–98), Italian religious reformer, 219–42. Saxtorph, peder (1730–1803), Danish pietist pastor, 69, 164, 252. Scharling, Carl Emil (1803–77), Danish theologian and editor, 122, 136. Schelling, Friedrich wilhelm Joseph von (1775–1854), German philosopher, 43, 51–6 passim.

Index of Persons Schiller, Friedrich von (1759–1805), German poet, 6. Schillinger, Jan, 12. Schleiermacher, Friedrich (1768–1834), German theologian, 165. Schlosser, Johann Georg (1739–99), German jurist, historian, and philosophical writer, 134. Schofield, John, 87. Schopenhauer, Arthur (1788–1860), German philosopher, 136. Schrader, Johan Herman (1684–1737), Danish pastor, 65. Schwenkfeld von Ossig, Casper (1489 or 1490–1561), German protestant writer, 22, 44. Scultetus, Bartolomäus (1540–1614), German mathematician and astronomer, mayor of Görlitz, 44. Shakespeare, william (1564–1616), English dramatist, 4, 160. Sibbern, Frederik Christian (1785–1872), Danish philosopher, 238. Simonsen, Johannes, 159. Sløk, Johannes (1916–2001), Danish theologian, 185. Socrates, 64, 116, 119, 233, 246, 247. Solger, Karl wilhelm Ferdinand (1780– 1819), German philosopher and aesthetic theorist, 54. Solminhac, Alain de (1593–1659), French bishop, 129. Spener, philipp Jakob (1635– 1705), German protestant theologian, 22, 23, 28, 149–53, 155, 247. Spinoza, Baruch de (1632–77), Dutch philosopher, 53, 135. Staudenmaier, Franz Anton (1800–56), German Catholic theologian, 132. Stewart, Jon, 53. Stilpo, 14. Stoeffler, F. Ernest, 150. Strehlenau, Niembsch von, i.e., Nicolaus Lenau (1802–50), Austro-Hungarian poet, 226, 227.

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Sturm, Johann (1507–89), Luxemburgish educational reformer, 22. Tauler, Johannes (ca. 1300–61), German mystic and theologian, 11, 21, 22, 25, 33, 39, 70, 77, 163, 248, 251. Tennemann, wilhelm Gottlieb (1761–1819), German historian of philosophy, 52. Teresa of Ávila, Saint (1515–82), 33, 139, 250. Tersteegen, Gerhard (1697–1796), German mystic and poet, 77, 141, 154, 155, 245–58. Thais the Harlot, Saint, 14, 16. Thortsen, Carl Adolph (1798–1878), Danish educationist, 157. Thulstrup, Marie Mikulová, 26, 29, 70, 74, 155, 246, 257. Thulstrup, Niels (1924–88), Danish theologian, 116, 184. Tieck, Ludwig (1773–1853), German poet, 54. valla, Lorenzo (1406–57), Italian humanist and philosopher, 25, 117. virgil, 161. voltaire, i.e., François-Marie Arouet (1694–1778), French Enlightenment writer, 114, 130. wallmann, Johannes, 28, 29, 250. weigel, valentin (1533–88), German protestant pastor, 22, 26, 44. wengert, Timothy J., 86. worm, peder Jacobsen (1642–93), Danish pastor, 159. Xenophon, 134. zinzendorf, Nikolaus Ludwig (1700–60), German religious and social reformer, bishop of the Moravian Church, 23, 67, 69, 71, 151, 163, 247, 249, 252. zwingli, Huldrych (1484–1531), Swiss protestant reformer, 44, 86, 122.

Index of Subjects alchemy, 43, 46, 47, 51, 222. Anabaptists, 182. Anfechtung, 24. antinomianism, 83, 85, 86, 90, 100, 176, 182, 183, 194, 195, 205. anxiety, 29, 43, 54, 56, 105, 106, 198, 201. asceticism, 12, 18, 136, 206, 249. atonement, 27, 96, 107, 178, 189. attack on the church, 220. Augsburg Confession, 88, 99, 100, 160, 181, 185, 193. Bible, 1 Corinthians, 115, 123, 152. Ecclesiastes, 139, 182, 206. Galatians, 92, 182. Hebrews, 121. James, 90, 199, 202, 234–8 passim. Jeremiah, 233. John, 149, 165. Matthew, 15, 25, 94, 189, 242. Luke, 15. philippians, 256. psalms, 230. Romans, 85, 90, 94, 180, 187. Song of Solomon, 71. Tobit, 139. Catholicism, 10, 178, 194, 250. Christendom, 13, 17, 31–41 passim, 82, 83, 101, 123, 174, 177, 190, 198, 200, 201, 205, 206, 232. Christianity, 12, 14–6, 21, 25–9, 31, 38, 43, 69, 82–4, 97, 101, 103–6, 112, 118, 124, 137, 140, 142, 151–4, 159, 162–4, 174, 179, 190, 194–206 passim, 220–34 passim, 239, 241, 242, 247, 252, 252. New Testament, 197, 202. Counter-Reformation, 44. cura pastoralis, 39. death, 24.

despair, 73, 105, 106, 198. detachment, 255, 256. Devotio Moderna, 39. Diet of worms, 117, 173–6 passim, 188. dogmatics, speculative, 53. doubt, 54. Edict of Nantes, 130. Enlightenment, 68, 150, 163, 164. Epicureanism, 206. eternity, 55. ethics, Christian, 9. evil, 45, 49, 50, 57, 167. faith, 22, 24, 26, 27, 29, 82–4, 87–96 passim, 101–7 passim, 123, 152, 154, 176, 179, 180, 187, 189, 193, 194, 205, 206, 219, 239, 240, 246, 247, 255. and works, 88, 89, 98, 193, 194, 196, 202, 237. fear, 12. Formula of Concord, 21. freedom, 43, 47, 56, 114, 167, 179. French Revolution, 124. gift, 193, 194, 196. Gnosticism, 44, 46, 47. governance, 141. grace, 22, 27, 28, 77, 82, 83, 88–90, 93–107 passim, 150, 176, 179–83 passim, 187, 193–202 passim, 237, 241. election by, 197–9. Herrnhutism, 23, 67, 151, 163, 252. hope, 12. Huguenots, 130. humanism, 111–14 passim, 177. humility, 11, 76, 77, 82, 103, 170, 241, 256. humor, 7, 8, 17, 140. illuminism, 47. imitatio Christi, see “imitation of Christ.”

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imitation of Christ, 9, 18, 28, 29, 76, 77, 83, 97, 101–7 passim, 153, 170, 179, 193, 197, 199, 220, 221, 230, 239, 240, 247, 256. Incarnation, 140, 251. inward deepening, 197, 232, 240. irony, 17, 119, 140. Romantic, 54. Jansenism, 133. justification by faith, 22, 27, 28, 85–90 passim, 93, 102, 176, 177, 180, 187. kabbalism, 43, 46. Christian, 51. Jewish, 44. law, 82–106 passim, 180–3, 197. and gospel, 86–94 passim, 102, 181–3, 190, 193–6 passim, 206. love, 11, 45, 50, 77, 95, 98, 124, 134, 135, 137, 143, 167, 169, 170, 176, 187, 188, 227, 238, 240. martyrdom, 12, 18, 178, 179, 199, 204–6, 219, 225, 228, 235, 241. melancholy, 24. miracle, 140. monasticism, 10–12, 32, 38, 39, 77, 103, 122, 170, 178–83 passim, 193, 196, 201, 248, 249, 254. mysticism, 4, 21–5 passim, 32, 33, 39, 43–7 passim, 50, 51, 149, 222, 223, 251, 252, 255, Christian, 52. neoplatonic, 47. Neoplatonism, 44, 46, 51, 52, 222, 251. obedience, 11. offense, 27, 188, 242. Ottoman Empire, 2. pantheism, 47. paradox, 246. pastoral care, 40, 247. peasants’ Revolt (1525), 85, 86, 89. pietism, 8, 44, 56, 57, 63–79, 149–56 passim, 247, 249, 252, 253, 256.

Halle, 28, 64–8 passim, 149–53 passim. Moravian, see “Herrnhutism.” poverty, 17, 178, 188, 252, 256. prayer, 12, 25, 26, 75, 139, 169, 179, 193, 249. preaching, 18, 38, 67, 87–9, 98, 113, 150, 192, 195, 199, 202, 206, 238. prototype, the, 83, 97–101, 106, 107, 169, 193–7 passim, 207, 219, 220, 228, 239, 241, 242. purgatory, 10. Quietism, 131, 251, 253. Rationalism, 68, 69, 163. reduplication, 219. Reformation, 21, 33, 81, 82, 84, 113, 118, 119, 154, 159, 174–83 passim, 195, 199, 200, 203–6, 226, 237. Renaissance, 222. repentance, 24, 27–9, 87, 150. Romanticism, 50, 51. salvation, 12, 22, 27, 82, 85, 88, 93, 96, 105, 115, 152, 179, 181, 190, 197, 198, 201, 237, 239. Scholasticism, 4, 117, 119, 150, 155, 178. Seven Years’ war, 249. sin, 15, 17, 26, 28, 43, 49, 53–7 passim, 66, 91–3, 98–100, 104, 106, 162, 167, 180, 181, 183, 189. sola gratia, 197, 199, 202. speculation, 43, 45. speculative philosophy, 52, 54, 56. spiritualism, 23, 46. suffering, 26, 45, 49, 50, 55, 72, 116, 162, 170, 228, 238, 239. temptation, 36, 38, see also “Anfechtung.” Thirty Years’ war, 46, 50, 54. tragedy, 49. Trinity, 46–9 passim. Turks, see “Ottoman Empire.” unity of thought and being, 54. virtue, 10, 11, 18, 85, 98, 163, 179, 194, 251, 255.