Introduction
The main purpose of this article is to clarify Kierkegaard's account of religious faith by comparing it to Kant's moral faith. I argue that the so-called double movement of faith in Fear and Trembling explicates the formal structure of religious faith and provides a key to understanding what Kierkegaard means by religiousness in general. I try to show that later works (e.g. Concluding Unscientific Postscript) make use of the account found in Fear and Trembling.Footnote 1 Furthermore, I try to show why religious faith plays a crucial role in Kierkegaard's theory and why the so-called ethical stage (represented by the pseudonym Judge William) is problematical. I argue that rather than belonging to the ethical stage (as claimed by J. E. Hare), Kant has a different account of religious faith (and divine grace), an account which not only anticipated Kierkegaard's account of faith but also represents an alternative to it.Footnote 2 By saying this, my interpretation of the relation between Kant and Kierkegaard differs not only from that of Hare but also from the interpretations of Ronald Green and Ulrich Knappe, two of the leading scholars writing on the relationship between Kant and Kierkegaard. Although Knappe presents Kant's radical evil as analogous to Kierkegaard's original sin, he maintains that with Kierkegaard's Christian stage of existence ‘nearly all affinity with Kantian thinking stops’.Footnote 3 Green, on the other hand, tries to show that when Kant introduces the doctrine of radical evil, his philosophy of religion runs into problems, problems which Kierkegaard can be seen as resolving by way of a reliance on divine grace and revelation.Footnote 4 By relying on recent scholarship on Kant's philosophy of religion, I will attempt to provide a corrective to these interpretations, claiming that the picture looks quite different if we take into account Kant's mature account of divine grace. Finally, I spell out some important consequences of Kierkegaard's account of faith for the relation between philosophy and Christian thinking and compare Kierkegaard's account briefly to Kant's. In doing this, I try to shed new light on the different roles played by philosophy and revelation in Kierkegaard's corpus.
Kant on grace
Kant's moral faith is based on the natural dialectic wherein pure practical reason seeks the highest good (CPR 5:108).Footnote 5 The highest good is the idea of a moral world where virtue (morality) leads to happiness (CPR 5:113–115). Kant interprets the highest good as a society of the virtuous, as the ethical commonwealth (CPR 5:127ff.; R 6:97ff.).Footnote 6 Even though morality (virtue) depends on human freedom, the realization of the highest good does not depend on one's effort alone (Wimmer (Reference Wimmer1990), 11f.). Divine assistance is needed in order for virtue to lead to happiness and in order to unite the forces of separate individuals so that they become part of an ethical commonwealth (R 6:138f., 97–99; NF 18:456, no. 6107). Kant writes:
Since by himself the human being cannot realize the idea of the supreme [höchsten] good inseparably bound up with the pure moral disposition, either with respect to the happiness [Glückseligkeit] which is part of that good or with respect to the union of the human beings necessary for the fulfillment of the end, and yet there is also in him the duty to promote the idea, he finds himself driven to believe in the cooperation or the management of a moral ruler of the world, through which alone this end is possible. (R 6:139)
However, our ability to do good does not depend on divine grace – Kant dismisses such a view on practical grounds, claiming that it would bypass our agency and undermine our responsibility. Nevertheless, several scholars have argued for a moderate type of grace in Kant's theory, even at the level of virtue (e.g. Beiser (Reference Beiser and Guyer2006), 603; Rossi (Reference Rossi, Firestone and Palmquist2006), 114; Firestone (Reference Firestone2009), 142–144).
Kant interprets moral improvement in terms of an endless progression wherein man moves forward without ever reaching perfection. Since the progression towards perfection is not perfection itself, man's deeds are always defective (R 6:66f., cf. 48; CPR 5:132, 128).Footnote 7 For some reason, however, God counts an individual's progression towards perfection as perfection itself. The point seems to be that he who makes progress receives God's grace so that he attains perfection and happiness (Wood (Reference Wood1970), 120f., cf. 232ff.; Allison (Reference Allison1995), 174).
Kant's doctrine of radical evil suggests that man falls short of the perfection required by moral rigorism, even after having turned from evil to good. Since sins committed cannot be repaid (see R 6:72), there appears to be a need for atonement or forgiveness in order to become perfect or well-pleasing to God. The reason being that ‘we cannot possibly repay the debt of sin; even if we adopt a good disposition and persevere in it, this does not change the fact that we started from evil’.Footnote 8
Kant himself suggests that this problem can be overcome if one progresses towards good and receives divine grace. He writes:
Here, then, is that surplus over the merit from works [Überschuss über das Verdienst der Werke] … which is imputed to us by grace. For what in our earthly life … is always only in mere becoming (namely, our being a human being well-pleasing to God) is imputed to us as if we already possessed it here in full. And to this we indeed have no rightful claim [Kant's note:] Rather, receptivity is all that we, on our part, can attribute to ourselves, whereas a superior's decision to grant a good for which the subordinate has no more than (moral) receptivity is called grace. (R 6:75 with note)
Kant continues by saying that:
so far as we know [erkennen] ourselves (estimate our disposition not directly but only according to our deeds), … the accuser within us would still be more likely to render a verdict of guilty. It is always therefore only a decree [Urtheilsspruch] of grace when we are relieved of all responsibility [aller Verantwortung entschlagen] … (R 6:75f.)
Kant refers to the above as a ‘deduction of the idea of a justification of a human being who is indeed guilty but has passed into a disposition well-pleasing to God [Gott wohlgefälligen Gesinnung]’ (R 6:76).
However, it is not only past sins that make grace relevant. Henry Allison argues that Kant appeals to grace in order to explain how even those with a good disposition can attain moral perfection or be well-pleasing to God when the propensity to evil remains. The propensity towards evil exists even after the adoption of a good disposition, leading to temptations and moral frailty. Allison concludes that there is still a need for justification – and therefore conceptual space for divine grace – since, with respect to being perfect or well-pleasing to God, a genuine gap remains after we have done all that we can (Allison (Reference Allison1995), 174f., cf. 173; Wood (Reference Wood1970), 236–248; R 6:75). Similarly, Jacqueline Marina says that when the will has been weakened by effects of radical evil, divine grace may help the individual to gain the upper hand in the struggle to be virtuous. In particular, divine grace can assist the virtuous person's struggle with evil by bringing first-order desires in line with second-order desires (Marina (Reference Marina1997), 396–399, cf. 390f.; see also Byrne (Reference Byrne2007), 147; Wood (Reference Wood1970), 230). Kant writes:
[F]or the human being, who despite a corrupted heart yet always possesses a good will, there still remains hope of a return to the good from which he strayed … [T]he human being … brings it about that he becomes either good or evil … Granted that some supernatural cooperation is also needed to his becoming good or better, whether this cooperation only consists in the diminution of obstacles or be also a positive assistance, the human being must nonetheless make himself antecedently worthy of receiving it; and he must accept this help (which is no small matter), i.e. he must incorporate this positive increase of force into his maxim: in this way alone is it possible that the good be imputed to him … (R 6:44)
In another passage Kant goes even further, seeing our moral disposition itself as a work of grace:
Scriptural texts which seem to enjoin a passive surrender to an external power that produces holiness in us must, then, be interpreted differently. It has to be made clear from them that we ourselves must work at developing that moral predisposition [jener moralischen Anlage], although this predisposition does point to a divine source that reason can never reach [e ine Göttlichkeit eines Ursprungs beweiset, der höher ist als alle Vernunft] (in its theoretical search for causes), so that our possession of it is not meritorious, but rather the work of grace [s ie besitzen, nicht Verdienst, sondern Gnade ist] … If man's own deeds are not sufficient to justify him before his conscience (as it judges him strictly), reason is entitled to adopt on faith a supernatural supplement to fill what is lacking to his justification [mangelhaften Gerechtigkeit] (though not to specify in what this consists). (CF 7:43, cf. 58f., 44)
These passages suggest that there is a role for grace even at the level of virtue. Kant says that we should do everything within our power, but that whatever good we do is not meritorious. In Lectures on Ethics Kant is reported to have stated that worthiness to be happy cannot be thought of as an acquisition of merit, since here the concept of remuneration is spoken of in terms of freely given reward (LE 27:148f.; Marina (Reference Marina1997), 383). Lectures on the Philosophical Doctrine of Religion says that we could expect nothing but punishment if God was merely a just Judge (LPDR 28:1085f., cf. 1294).
The above suggests that it is misleading to interpret Kant as an ethicist, as Hare does. Unlike the ethicist, Kant does not believe that we can deserve happiness or save ourselves. Nevertheless, it is clear that – for Kant – the good disposition must ground faith, rather than the other way round. So, for practical purposes, we should start by doing good to the utmost of our ability. Only then can we hope to receive the assistance necessary for the realization of the highest good.Footnote 9
The structure of moral faith
In a way that anticipates Kierkegaard's account of faith, Kant takes faith to imply a double structure. Kant writes of a person of moral faith:
[A]lthough he is never justified here in his own eyes, and can never hope to be justified … nevertheless in this progress [towards the good, i.e. the ‘increase of natural perfection’], though it has to do with a goal endlessly postponed … he can have a prospect of a future of beatitude [selige Zukunft]; for this is the expression that reason employs to designate complete well-being [Wohl] independent of all contingent causes in the world … (CPR 5:123 note, cf. 127 note)
Kant says that ‘the Christian morality’, the moral principle of pure practical reason, takes away our confidence (das Zutrauen), but still gives us back confidence and lets us hope (CPR 5:127 note, cf. 127–129). Although the virtuous actor does not know whether he will become happy, he must hope that he can become happy if he does his best.Footnote 10 This corresponds to what Kierkegaard (Johannes de silentio) calls resignation and faith, respectively (more on this later). It seems clear that in this context Kant, like Kierkegaard later, takes faith in the sense of trust or confidence (Zutrauen; Vertrauen; fiducia) rather than in the sense of holding something to be true (Fürwahrhalten). Also, Kant describes moral religion in terms of hope, as an expectancy of good when the outcome is (theoretically) uncertain. In so far as this expectancy is combined with the faith (act) in which one trusts God, hope is hard to distinguish from faith.Footnote 11
However, rather than involving a Kierkegaardian double movement of faith, Kant's moral faith implies the following tripartite structure:
1. Do good with all power (cf. R 6:132f., 120, 190f., 201f.), something that refers to moral laws that are within our powers (cf. R 6:97f.);
2. Renounce everything outside of our power – a deficiency which refers to the realization of the highest good, with its different parts:Footnote 12
(a) that the individual is not capable of becoming completely virtuous and well-pleasing to God, because of radical evil in human nature (cf. R 6:163, 50f.),
(b) that virtue does not always lead to happiness,
(c) since the highest good is a commonwealth, its realization depends on all its members;
3. If, and only if, (no. 1) is the case: believe and hope that divine grace will complete what you cannot (cf. R 6:67f., 117f., 139f., 144f., 201f.). Grace seems to imply:
(a) that God forgives past sins and assists our fight against evil,
(b) that virtue leads to bliss in the hereafter (and to some extent already in this world),
(c) that one is part of a commonwealth of virtuous beings, and by implication that the highest good, with its parts, can be realized fully in the hereafter (and to some degree already in this world).
Kant says that if we have a real (moral) disposition (Gesinnung), the deficiency of our own righteousness (virtuousness) will be supplemented by God in a way that is incomprehensible to us (PP 8:362 note; cf. LE 27:294f., 304). He writes:
We must strive with all our might [Kräften] after the holy intention [Gesinnung] of leading a life well-pleasing to God, in order to be able to believe that God's love for humankind (already assured to us through reason) will somehow make up [ergänzen], in consideration of that honest intention, for humankind's deficiency in action, provided that humankind strives to confirm to his will with all its might [Vermögen]. (R 6:120, cf. 171; C 10:180)
Renunciation (resignation) in regard to the divine will is our duty … we should resign to God what does not lie in our power [Gewalt], and do those things of ours which are within our compass … We take faith here to mean that we should do the best that lies in our power, and this in the hope that God, in His goodness and wisdom, will make up for the frailty of our conduct. So faith means the confidence [Zutrauen] that, so long as we have done everything possible for us, God will supply [ersetzen] what does not lie in our power. This is the faith of meekness and modesty, which is associated with resignation … [P]ractical faith does not consist in believing that God will fulfil our intentions … ; it lies in this, that we in no way prescribe anything to God through our will, but resign the matter to His will, and hope that if we have done what lies within our natural capacity, God will repair [abhelfen] our frailty and incapacity by means that He knows best. (LE 27:320f.; cf. 317f.)
Kant never tires of stressing that only morality can qualify one to expect fulfilment in a religious way (cf. R 6:178, 118). We become worthy of grace not by being without guilt, but by fighting our propensity towards evil. Kant says that when humans realize their lack of capability, it is not inappropriate to rely on moral hope, and thereby to expect assistance from Providence so that mankind can realize its final vocation (i.e. the highest good) (TP 8:312; cf. R 6:100f., 185).
Hope in grace is portrayed by Kant as a (moral) faith in feasibility (Thunlichkeit – LL 9:69 note), suggesting that faith and grace concern the realization of morals in this world. Kant refers to hope by saying that man is not worried, but that he ‘would from himself derive the confidence [Vertrauen] that “all things else (i.e. what relates to physical happiness [Glückseligkeit]) will be added to him.” … Yet without any confidence in the disposition once acquired, perseverance in it would hardly be possible’ (R 6:68). Although the highest good is not something we can fully reach in this life, moral faith implies the confidence (Vertrauen) that physical and this-worldly conditions will be granted so that we can continue to strive towards the highest good. There must be some coordination of freedom and nature, virtue and happiness, in this world, since everything necessary for continued growth in virtue must be provided by nature (Marina (Reference Marina2000), 350). The role of God is to coordinate nature and freedom so that we can approach the highest good in this world. However, if we deny this coordination of nature and freedom, and see the highest good as impossible, this would undermine moral motivation, since morality would seem like an unrealistic ideal (cf. Denis (Reference Denis2005), 54). So for Kant, moral faith makes it possible to act morally in the face of uncertainty and hardship. Moral faith makes us capable of bearing hardship without ever giving up (cf. LE 27:319, 395, 645f., 366–368; LPDR 28:1112). Similarly, Kierkegaard claims that Christian faith makes man capable of living with uncertainty and withstanding hardship.
The ethicist, Kierkegaard, and Kant
Recently, Michelle Kosch has claimed that ‘no remotely plausible account has yet been advanced’ that explains why Kierkegaard believes the ethical stage fails or why it is supposedly ‘inadequate to the situation of existing subjectivity’ (Kosch (Reference Kosch2006), 139). My claim is that, on Kierkegaard's view, the so-called ethical stage fails since it relies on a Pelagian notion of self-salvation. By Pelagianism I mean the doctrine that man can become fully virtuous by his own power and save himself. This way it is possible to deserve happiness and to save oneself; divine grace is neither decisive nor necessary.Footnote 13
In Postscript, Kierkegaard (the pseudonym Climacus) explicitly depicts the ethicist as believing in self-salvation: ‘The ethicist in Either/Or had saved [frelst] himself’ (CUP 257, cf. 288, 572; SKS 7:234, cf. 263, 519).Footnote 14 Moreover, Climacus goes on to say that this belief in self-salvation separates the ethicist from the religious. This is in line with the claim in Stages on Life's Way that the ethical stage is based on the ethical requirement, a requirement (Fordring) so infinite that the individual inevitably falls short (SKS 6:439; cf. 3:207ff., 215; SLW 476; cf. EO2 216ff., 224). In Either/Or, even the aesthete Victor Eremita says that the question is whether the ethicist has the power (Kraft) to ‘maintain his life view [Anskuelse] or not’ (SKS 2:21; EO1 14*), suggesting that the question is whether or not the ethicist is able to live as he preaches.Footnote 15 This seems to say that the ethicist can only maintain his life view if he has the strength to save himself by being perfect.
The ethicist himself holds the world order to be rational (SKS 3:277, 305; 6:145; EO2 292, 323; SLW 155), saying: ‘I am happy in my calling [Kald]; I believe it suits my capabilities [Evner] and my whole personality’ (EO2 323; SKS 3:305). This implies that one's duty correspond to one's personality and (natural) capabilities (cf. SKS 3:257, 265; EO2 270, 279). The ethicist believes that he is capable of becoming virtuous and happy, or saving himself, no matter what happens. By seeing the world order as rational, the ethicist tends towards identifying the rational, good, and divine with the practices and institutions of society.Footnote 16
Although the scholarly literature has pointed to Kantian elements in the ethicist, it is noteworthy that the ethicist dismisses Kant's doctrine of radical evil and criticizes Kantianism for rigorism and formalism (SKS 3:170f., 173; EO2 174f., 178; cf. Schulte (Reference Schulte1991), 279f.; Green (Reference Green1992), 221). If the ethicist is a Pelagian (cf. SKS 3:253, 262; EO2 265, 275f.), this would explain why he disapproves of Kant's doctrine of radical evil, since this doctrine indicates that we cannot save ourselves because we are infinitely guilty. Kant says that the evil in human nature ‘brings with it an infinity [Unendlichkeit] of violations of the law, and hence an infinity of guilt’ (R 6:72).
Kant and Kierkegaard share the view that the ethical requirement has an unconditional (categorical) nature (Knappe (Reference Knappe2004), ch. 3). This view provides the background for what Kant describes as the doctrine of moral rigorism (R 6:22–25; cf. LE 27:302), a doctrine that denies that man is good in some respects and evil in other respects (both in his acts and in his character). Additionally, moral rigorism denies that man is neither good nor evil. Moral rigorism basically asserts that unless you are morally perfect, you are evil or infinitely guilty.
Although the ethicist criticizes Kant's rigorism, Kierkegaard himself and the pseudonyms Climacus and Haufniensis all accept Kantian moral rigorism (SKS 7:383; 4:342; 24:390, NB 24:112; CUP 420f.; CA 36*; JP 998).Footnote 17 Kierkegaard even claims that the only thing wrong with Kant's doctrine of radical evil is that it lacks the category of the paradox or the incomprehensible [Uforklarelige] (SKS 20:88f., NB 125; JP 3089).Footnote 18 Clearly, this suggests that Kierkegaard accepts moral rigorism and holds man to be infinitely guilty. However, Kierkegaard departs from Kant by saying that the consequence of guilt and sinfulness is the complete inadequacy of man's natural capacities to fulfil the ethical task. Kierkegaard (Climacus) insists that we are only capable of realizing our own incapability (cf. SKS 7: 391, 421; CUP 430, 463), whereas Kant stresses that we can and should try to improve ourselves, and that divine grace will complete what lies beyond our powers. On Kant's view, we can only hope for divine assistance if we take the first steps towards virtue on our own. Kierkegaard, by contrast, claims that we are capable of realizing neither virtue nor the highest good; we only choose whether or not to accept divine grace (cf. SKS 7:390f.; 5:267f.; 10:228; 24:190f., NB 22:159; CUP 429f.; EUD 272f.; CD 220f.; JP 1482).Footnote 19 Although this position is anti-Pelagian and Lutheran, it need not presuppose that man's eternal fate is predestined. Kierkegaard criticizes predestination on ethical grounds, claiming that it can foster passivity. Kant uses a similar approach to criticize appeals to grace that fail to make it clear that human agency must take the initiative towards the good.
Kierkegaard thinks that having an ‘anguished conscience’, that is, consciousness of one's failure to meet the requirement of the law, is a prior condition for serious interest in the Christian offer of salvation (SKS 20:69, NB:79; SKS 21:285, NB 10:55; JP 2461, 4018). This means that the ethical requirement, and the failure of fulfilling it, lies at a level that precedes religious faith.Footnote 20 Since religious faith has a double structure according to Kierkegaard, this means that Kierkegaard's theory implies a tripartite structure that resembles Kant's moral faith. But whereas Kant sees virtue as the first element, Kierkegaard sees guilt-consciousness and incapability as the first element.
Kierkegaard's double movement of faith
What Kierkegaard (under the pseudonym Johannes de silentio) describes as the double movement of faith (SKS 4:129–145, 167, 189f., 197, 203; FT, 34–52, 75f., 99–101, 109, 115) consists in the two following acts:
1. Resigning oneself to the fact that one is unable to realize the highest good by one's own, unaided powers.
2. Believing that the same good can nevertheless be realized with divine assistance.
Neither resignation nor faith represents immediate, first-order feelings or sentiments. Rather, they represent specific ways to relate not only to oneself and one's surroundings, but more specifically to what is perceived as being valuable. In performing the movement of resignation, with respect to what one takes to be what is most valuable, for instance getting a princess (cf. SKS 4:136; FT 41f.), one does not deny the importance of getting the princess; the point is rather that the desire or want, as it immediately is, no longer induces one directly to act. This is because it is seen as lying beyond one's capability to realize; the power of immediate (first-order) desire is dethroned or rendered impotent. It will move one to act only if it is endorsed in a new movement, such as the movement of faith.Footnote 21
This structure is different from an ordinary sacrifice, in which one renounces a lower good in order to obtain a higher good. As opposed to the sacrifice of the so-called tragic hero, the knight of faith in Fear and Trembling does not renounce a lower good. Neither does he renounce the highest good; he sees the highest good as necessary, but thinks that he is incapable of realizing it on his own. Still, he believes that it will be realized with God's help (cf. Hannay (Reference Hannay1993), 77; Fremstedal (Reference Fremstedal2006a), 94). Thus, the believer puts his confidence in God even though he completely lacks confidence in his own ability to realize what is most valuable.Footnote 22
At one point Fear and Trembling says that only the single individual can give himself a more precise explanation of what the highest is (SKS 4:163; FT 71). Here the highest is understood as that which is subjectively perceived as the highest, rather than that which actually is objectively highest. However, the book elsewhere makes suggestions about what is objectively good or valuable. Indeed, man's telos (purpose) is explicitly said to be eternal bliss (Salighed) (SKS 4:148; FT 54). We will see that this is consistent with the account given in Postscript, according to which the good resigned in the double movement is eternal bliss, something which is also identified with the highest good. Even in Fear and Trembling it is hinted that the most valuable, that which is resigned (e.g. Isaac), is the highest good: when illustrating the double movement with the story of Abraham's sacrifice of Isaac, it is said that it is Abraham's duty and inclination to take care of Isaac (SKS 4:116f., 127; FT 20f., 31f.; Hannay (Reference Hannay1993), 77f.; Fremstedal (Reference Fremstedal2006a), 93f.). Interpreted in Kantian terms, taking care of Isaac (the highest) represents the union of morals and nature, virtue and happiness. Elsewhere, Fear and Trembling calls the union of virtue and happiness, interpreted as the world where virtue leads to happiness, ‘the world of the spirit’ and ‘an eternal divine order’ (SKS 4:123f.; FT 27). As I have argued elsewhere, both Kierkegaard and Kant interpret this union of virtue and happiness as the highest good.Footnote 23
On my reading, the double movement of faith functions as an explication of the structure of religious faith and is a key to understanding what Kierkegaard means by religiousness in general. I believe there is an essential continuity in Kierkegaard's work, since the double movement of faith in Fear and Trembling throws light on Kierkegaard's remarks in other works and vice versa. Although it has received little attention, Kierkegaard and the pseudonyms build on the double movement of faith rather than dismissing it.Footnote 24 Throughout the article I refer to pseudonymous writings as well as writings Kierkegaard penned under his own name in order to show that these writings overlap when it comes to faith. I do not deny that there are important differences between the different pseudonyms (and Kierkegaard himself), but I focus on important points where they overlap. My argument only requires that there is some overlap or agreement between the different books in Kierkegaard's authorship, not that the pseudonyms should be taken to represent the same voice or perspective.Footnote 25
After Fear and Trembling, religious faith is explicitly described in terms of resignation and divine assistance (grace). While some passages quite explicitly describe religiousness as a ‘double movement’ (e.g. SKS 7:371f., 264; CUP 408f., 290), the double movement is only implicit in the text most of the time – so it can easily be overlooked. However, the concept was so important to Kierkegaard that he appears to have changed the concept of double movement in the second edition of Either/Or in order to distinguish the movements of the aesthete from the double movement of faith as found in Fear and Trembling (see SKS K2–3:69).
Perhaps the earliest (implicit) occurrence of the double movement of faith in the published works is from ‘Ultimatum’ (Law (Reference Law and Perkins1995), 254), a pseudonymous text that pre-dates Fear and Trembling:
If your one and only wish was denied you, my listener, you are still happy … If your wish were what others and you yourself in a certain sense must call your duty, if you not only had to deny your wish but in a way betray your duty, if you lost not only your joy but even your honor, you are still happy – in relation to God, you say: I am always in the wrong … In relation to God we are always in the wrong – this thought puts an end to doubt and calms the [dens – literary: its] cares; it animates and inspires [begeistrer] to action. (EO2 353; SKS 3:331f.)
I take this to say that one must renounce one's duty, because of human guilt and sin. Nevertheless, divine grace makes it possible to be happy or even saved.
After Fear and Trembling, The Concept of Anxiety describes religiousness in terms of a double movement. Paraphrasing the Gospels, Kierkegaard (Haufniensis) describes the religious person as losing all and receiving it back (CA 107, cf. 158; SKS 4:409, 457; cf. K4:479; Matthew 10:39; Luke 17:33). Like Fear and Trembling, The Concept of Anxiety hardly explicates what one loses (resigns) and gets back.
In the ‘Introduction’ of Concept of Anxiety, divine grace and self-salvation are approached by sketching two different types of ethics (SKS 4:323–331; CA 16–24). The so-called first ethics is a philosophical ethics which does not appeal to divine grace. Since it is claimed that any failure or wrongdoing implies that man is infinitely guilty (cf. SKS 4:459f.; CA 161), the first ethics seems to presuppose rigorism. By contrast, the second ethics is a Christian ethics based on the existence of sin and divine grace. Concept of Anxiety assumes the validity of first ethics but goes on to show that this type of ethics collapses because of sin and infinite guilt (SKS 4:459f.; CA 161). The upshot is that the collapse of the first ethics motivates the transition to the second ethics. This argument only works if the validity of the first ethics is presupposed in the first place since otherwise the pre-Christian person would have no reason for making the ‘leap’ (transition) to Christian ethics.
When explaining why the first ethics collapses, Concept of Anxiety refers to the analyses of repentance and faith in Fear and Trembling (SKS 4:324f note; CA 17 note). The so-called infinite movement of repentance in Fear and Trembling that Haufniensis refers to is a form of infinite resignation that specifies that the agent resigns completely because he is guilty and repents (SKS 4:188f.; FT 98f.). In this context Fear and Trembling hints that guilt can be overcome by divine grace as it is found in Christianity (SKS 4:188f.; FT 98f.). Clearly, this parallels the assertion in Concept of Anxiety that the problem of guilt within the first ethics is overcome by the second ethics.Footnote 26 Thus, Concept of Anxiety suggests that the first ethics leads to (infinite) repentance, something which is overcome by Christian ethics.
Stages on Life's Way states very briefly that one has always to make double movements if one is to persist in one's task. Then, the double movement is described as holding on to one's love while simultaneously seeing it as impossible to realize (SKS 6:383f.; SLW 413f.). Presumably, it is impossible to realize, since it lies outside one's capability unless one is to depend on lucky circumstances.
When discussing resignation and how to relate to the highest good, Postscript explicitly describes religious existence as involving a ‘double movement’ (SKS 7:372; CUP 409).Footnote 27 Unfortunately, Climacus does not take the time to explain what he means by double movement. One possibility is to read this as a reference to Fear and Trembling, a work Climacus refers to several times in Postscript (e.g. SKS 7:238ff.; CUP 261ff.). On this reading, Climacus relies on the interpretation of faith in Fear and Trembling, although he specifies that the object resigned is the highest good.
Another possibility is to read this double movement as merely the necessity of relating absolutely to the absolute and relatively to the relative (cf. SKS 7:370f.; CUP 407f.), something which involves attributing absolute value to the highest good and only conditional value to other goods. In any case, the analysis of guilt and suffering in Postscript makes it clear that the highest good (eternal bliss) lies beyond what we are capable of realizing on our own. Kierkegaard (Climacus) therefore concludes that, when it comes to the highest good, we are capable of doing nothing ourselves – although everything is possible thought the Christian God (SKS 7:390f.; CUP 429f.). The pagan cannot get further than this insight into man's incapability, to ‘self-annihilation’ and ‘total guilt-consciousness’ in relation to eternal bliss (CUP 554, 571f.; SKS 7:503, 519). Whereas self-annihilation and guilt-consciousness are said to belong to immanent religiousness, the ability to receive the highest good is tied to Christianity.
This basically means that Postscript aligns immanent religiousness with (what Fear and Trembling calls) resignation, whereas the double movement is aligned with transcendent religiousness. Very much like the first ethics, immanent religiousness is presented as something that necessarily collapses and leads to resignation and guilt-consciousness. Corresponding to this is the repeated claim in the writings penned in Kierkegaard's own name that what is impossible, humanly speaking, is possible Christianly (Kristelig) speaking (cf. SKS 10:20, 30, 95, 126; 8:348f.; CD 9, 17f., 87, 115f.; UD 250f.). In the writings Kierkegaard penned under his own name, the double movement of faith is hinted at many different places (cf. SKS 10:205f., 209, 187; CD 195ff., 200, 176; Andic (Reference Andic and Perkins2005), 218f.). Kierkegaard himself claims that the pagan can resign, but only when he sees that loss is inevitable. He goes on to say that the piety of Judaism, presumably exemplified by Abraham and Job, can resign and believe, but only then is the believer put through an ordeal. As opposed to the pagan and the Jew, the Christian is capable of voluntary resignation and belief (SKS 10:189; cf. 25:152f., NB 27:39; Pap VII2 B235, 199f.; CD 178f.; cf. JP 1433; BA 112f.).
Kierkegaard comments on the relation between Christian faith and the faith of Abraham in the following way:
[A]ccording to the New Testament Abraham is called the father of faith, and yet it is [arguably (vel)] clear that the content of his faith cannot be Christian – that Jesus Christ has been in existence. But Abraham's faith is the formal definition [Bestemmelse – determination] of faith.Footnote 28 (Pap X6 81; JP 12)
In Fear and Trembling Abraham is depicted not only as the knight of faith, he is also used to exemplify the double movement of faith. I take the previous passage to say that the double movement of faith explicates the formal structure of faith rather than the content of faith. So although Judaism and Christianity differ when it comes to the content of faith, Kierkegaard claims that there is a structure common to both of them, a structure which formally defines or determines what faith is. This is significant, since it helps us understand what Kierkegaard and the pseudonyms mean by religious faith, something which can also help us make sense of its significance.
Whereas the content of faith refers to the dogmas or objects of faith, the formal definition appears to correspond to the act whereby one believes. Or rather, it corresponds to the dual act of resigning and believing (in the sense of trusting or putting one's confidence in God). This is in line with the lexical meaning according to which the Danish word for movement (Bevægelse) can mean (subjective) ‘attitude’ or ‘state of mind’.Footnote 29 As we have seen, this analysis of religious faith is anticipated by Kant's account of moral faith concerning both the object and the formal elements of faith.
In Kierkegaard the first part of the double movement (i.e. resignation) belongs to natural (immanent) religiousness, whereas the second part belongs exclusively to revealed (transcendent) religion (Judaism and Christianity).Footnote 30 What sets Christianity apart from Judaism is not revealed faith or divine assistance, but rather the capability to resign without being put through an ordeal. Indeed, this capability to resign voluntarily sets Christianity apart from everything else on Kierkegaard's account. Rather than offering a philosophical argument for this claim, Kierkegaard appears to view it as a theological or dogmatic issue related to the exclusivity of Christianity. Notwithstanding, a comparison with Kant's moral faith indicates that the double movement has some philosophical relevance since it lays claim to an explication of religious faith and to providing a solution to the dual problems of realizing the highest good and how to relate to chance.
We can conclude that the analysis of resignation and faith in Fear and Trembling parallels both the analysis of immanent and transcendent religiousness in Postscript and the first and second ethics in Concept of Anxiety, respectively. And in Kierkegaard's Nachlaß, resignation appears to result from man's incapability and despair, while faith refers to grace (SKS 24:190f., NB 22:159; JP 1482). The four former positions suggest a pre-Christian position that collapses not only because of guilt but also because of more general problems inherent to any attempt to realize the highest good. The four latter positions try to solve these problems by relying on divine grace interpreted in a Judaeo-Christian framework. At least to this extent, these analyses are parallel. This is an important point that has received little attention, a point that will help us understand the relation between philosophy and Christian thinking in Kierkegaard.Footnote 31
Implications for the relation between philosophy and Christian thinking
We can distinguish between three different problems that arise when we try to realize the highest good. The first problem is that man is not completely virtuous. Given moral rigorism, this means that man is evil, (infinitely) guilty, or sinful (cf. SKS 7:242f., 383; CUP 266f., 420f.). This problem is often stressed in the secondary literature as an explanation of why one can have a pre-religious motive for becoming a Christian. Using an example from the analysis of repentance in Fear and Trembling, Poul Lübcke writes:
[T]he Merman has a genuine problem at the pre-religious level of existence. His problem is essentially that he cannot convince himself that his guilt towards Agnete can be eliminated through remorse … Given this pre-religious problem, the Merman has a pre-religious motive to move in the direction of religion … in essence, both Johannes de silentio and Climacus present the transformation from a pre-religious way of life to a religious one by pointing at anomalies in the pre-religious person's interpretation of his own life. … he [the pre-religious person] is motivated to leap into the religious way of life with its own religious perspective and language … (Lübcke (Reference Lübcke, Linde, Purkarthofer, Schulz and Steinacker2006), 411f.)
However, two other problems are typically overlooked: Even if I were virtuous, I could still end up being unhappy. And since the highest good takes the form of a society or kingdom it cannot be realized by the individual alone. I believe these problems provide the background for understanding why non-Christian existence is presented as something that necessarily collapses.
If we accept that man is incapable of realizing the highest good, this suggests that the transition to Christianity can be justified, albeit only negatively.Footnote 32 Kierkegaard (Climacus) says that philosophy can help one ‘seek the leap [Springet] as a desperate way out’ (SKS 7:103; CUP 106). The leap refers to a transition from immanent religiousness to transcendent religiousness (SKS 7:234, 238; CUP 258, 262), that is, a transition from presuppositions we posses to presuppositions that have to be revealed.
Kierkegaard (Climacus) claims that Christianity has ‘passet sit Snit’ (SKS 7:210; CUP 230), that is, that it fits the cut, incision or notch to be found in existing subjectivity. In the next sentence he goes on to say that human passion (Lidenskab) and the Christian paradox ‘passe ganske for hinanden’, that is, that they fit one another completely. Clearly, this suggests that we have a problem at the pre-Christian level that Christianity can solve. Since it is argued that non-Christian positions do not solve this problem, Kierkegaard (Climacus) presents a negative argument for the truth of Christianity in which non-Christian positions are claimed to collapse. This appears to be the main argument Climacus, or even Kierkegaard himself, offers for why one should become a Christian.
However, besides relying on this argumentative strategy, Kierkegaard also criticizes different positions on Christian grounds. This takes the form of relying on the authority of revelation, something which transcends discursive arguments (cf. SKS 10:199; Pap VII2 B235, 24, 146ff.; CD 189; BA 24f.). I believe that we need to keep both of these approaches in mind, both the negative arguments and the Christian presuppositions, if we are to get a proper understanding of how Kierkegaard views religion.Footnote 33 Disregarding the arguments will make Kierkegaard seem overly dogmatic and undialectical. Without the arguments, Kierkegaard cannot show what motivates one to become a Christian, except in a question-begging manner. On the other hand, removing the Christian presuppositions appears to have disastrous results for Christian faith, given Kierkegaard's conception of it. On Kierkegaard's account, Christianity cannot be reduced to mere human categories since it is based on revelation.Footnote 34 So even if Christianity solves the pre-Christian problem of realizing the highest good, it cannot be reduced to pre-Christian categories since it has its own perspective and language.
It seems that the most we can tell from the pre-Christian perspective is that Christianity solves the problem of realizing the highest good. From this perspective, we cannot preclude that there are other solutions to this problem than the Christian one. Thus, I agree with Kosch that the most philosophy ‘can tell us [on Kierkegaardian terms] is that something like a revelation would, if it presented itself, fill a certain existential need – a need that can be described, but not itself filled, from a philosophical standpoint’.Footnote 35 However, Kant goes beyond Kierkegaard on this point: Kant is not satisfied with describing our need for the highest good; in his critical philosophy, he also wants to use moral faith in order to fill it. Whereas Kant appears to find room for the belief in divine grace in his philosophy, Kierkegaard presupposes that grace is exclusive to Judaism and Christianity. Kierkegaard tends to understand philosophy, or immanent thinking, as an enterprise that excludes reference to, or belief in, grace. To some, even to a Kantian, this may seem like an overly narrow or strict conception of philosophy.
On this decisive point Kant is more subtle than Kierkegaard, because he distinguishes between supernatural religion (the belief in grace) and revealed religion (cf. LE 27:309f.).Footnote 36 Kant is reported to have described grace as supernatural assistance that belongs to supernatural religion; virtue, on the other hand, is said to belong to natural religion (LE 27:310). Kant claims that we cannot distinguish between grace and virtue or nature; for we cannot cognize (Erkennen) a supernatural (übersinnliches) thing in experience (R 6:174, cf. 171). Grace, or the part of the realization of morals that refers to ‘what only God can do’, is described as a ‘holy secret ([lat.] mysterium)’ (R 6:138f.). And the concept of supernatural grace ‘is a transcendent concept, merely in the idea of whose reality no experience can assure us [i st transscendent und eine bloße Idee, von deren Realität uns keine Erfahrung versichern kann]’ (R 6:191). This is different from Kierkegaard who appears to see revelation, and even the sacraments, as an indication that grace is given. For instance, Kierkegaard states that through the forgiveness of sins and through Communion, the church may give rest to the soul (SKS 10:281–283; 17:52f., AA:51; CD 265–267; JP 3994).
Kant says that supernatural religion presupposes natural religion; for virtue is completed and supplemented by grace or supernatural assistance (LE 27:309f.). What corresponds to this in Kierkegaard is de silentio's analysis that faith (supernatural religion) presupposes resignation (natural religion). And since Kierkegaard presupposes that the double movement is exclusive to Judaism and Christianity, this corresponds to Climacus's claim that transcendent (revealed) religiousness presupposes immanent (natural) religiousness. But whereas Kant believes that supernatural religion supplements natural religion, Kierkegaard often stresses the discontinuity and incongruity between natural and revealed religion by depicting the revelation as something paradoxical that offends natural man. Nevertheless, natural religion is crucial for him too, since it contains an awareness of guilt that motivates the transition to Christianity. Christianity presupposes an infinite interest in the highest good (eternal bliss) at the pre-Christian level as the sine qua non (SKS 7:25, cf. 560; CUP 16, cf. 617). As we have seen, natural religion's failure to realize the highest good motivates the transition to Christianity.
Although Kant describes his position as Christian, his account is a philosophical one that relies on discursive arguments and the natural dialectic of reason (cf. CPR 5:107–148). Kant's moral faith resembles the first ethics in so far as it is a philosophical ethics that does not rely on revelation, but it resembles the second ethics in so far as it is based on divine grace (and in so far as there is a role for revelation in Kant's critical philosophy). Kant might say that Kierkegaard tends to collapse the distinction between grace and revealed religion. Unless Kant can be taken to endorse revealed faith, Kant's position is a middle ground between the first and second ethics – something for which there is no place in Kierkegaard.Footnote 37 Since Kierkegaard believes that grace is exclusive to the Judaeo-Christian revelation, a middle ground between the first and second ethics is impossible for him. The reason why he views it as impossible appears to have more to do with Christian presuppositions than philosophical arguments.
On Kierkegaard's view, the determinative element in salvific revelation is the entry of God into time, the incarnation. Kierkegaard sees grace as historically bestowed, something Kant does not seem to do. So rather than disagreeing on the necessity of grace, Kant and Kierkegaard disagree about what role history, revelation, and the sacraments play in the giving and receiving of grace:Footnote 38 Kierkegaard fears that man will be trapped in sin and despair unless revelation and the sacraments indicate that grace is actually given to us. Kant, on the other hand, sees a reliance on revelation and the sacraments as highly problematic. Theoretically, this involves a supernatural experience that seems impossible; practically, it can foster moral passivity, since it fails to make it clear that human agency must take the initiative. Thus it seems that the positions of Kierkegaard and Kant both come with difficulties of their own.
Conclusion
In several different works, Kierkegaard describes religious faith by relying on a common structure, namely, the double movement of faith first explicated in Fear and Trembling. This structure helps us make sense of what Kierkegaard means by religious faith in general, as well as how Kierkegaard understands the relation between philosophy and Christian thinking. It is argued that Kierkegaard's Christian faith does not break with Kant in the way claimed by earlier scholarship. Rather than being an ethicist like Judge William (as claimed by Hare), Kant developed an account of faith that anticipates Kierkegaard's account. Although Kant conceives of the roles of virtue, grace, and revelation differently from Kierkegaard, there is a considerable overlap between Kant's moral faith and Kierkegaard's double movement of faith, both in the object of faith (notably the highest good) and in its formal structure.Footnote 39