Chapter 30 of 35

Selected Entries from Kierkegaard’s Journals and Papers Pertaining to Eighteen Upbuilding Discourses

Selected Entries from Kierkegaard’s Journals and Papers Pertaining to Eighteen Upbuilding Discourses

SELECTED ENTRIES FROM

KIERKEGAARD’S JOURNALS AND PAPERS

PERTAINING TO

EIGHTEEN UPBUILDING DISCOURSES

It is strange what hate, conspicuous everywhere, Hegel has for the upbuilding,1 but that which builds up is not an opiate that lulls to sleep; it is the amen of the finite spirit and is an aspect of knowledge that ought not to be ignored.—JP II 1588 (Pap. III A 6) July 10, 1840

The Upbuilding That Lies in the Thought That

in Relation to God We Are Always in the Wrong
2

Otherwise we might be tempted to despair of providence.

For if there were one man, one single man, no matter if he were the most powerful who ever lived in the world or the most humble, a man who on judgment day could justifiably say: I was not provided for, in the great household I was forgotten, or even if he put much of the blame at his own door yet could justifiably say: I acknowledge that I went astray in the world, I departed from the way of truth, but I did repent of my sin, I honestly intended and strove to the utmost for the good, I lifted up my voice and shouted to heaven for help, but no one answered, there was no constructive solution, not even the remotest relief . . . . . if there were such a man, then everything would be foolishness, where then would the limit be.

—Anyone who has ever yielded to temptation must confess, however, that there was a possibility that in the next moment help was already at hand, and this is an observation, not a sophism, as it might seem to a despairing mind inclined to say: One can always say that.—JP V 5486 (Pap. III C 5) n.d., 1840-41

Only that which is upbuilding truly unites jest and earnestness. Consequently it is a jest—more priceless than the whole world—that God in heaven is the only great one whom one unceremoniously addresses with Du,3 even though one is ever so insignificant; but this jest is also the deepest earnestness, simply because every human being does it. On the other hand, it is a very mediocre, cheap, and human joke when a particular favorite addresses an earthly majesty with the familiar Du; therefore there is no earnestness at all in this jest.—JP IV 4924 (Pap. IV A 80) n.d., 1843

From sketch; see 31:1, 70:4-5, 109:1-2, 125:1, 141:1, 159:1:

Contents

1. Have a heartfelt love for one another.4

2. Every good and every perfect gift.

3. Every good and every perfect gift.

4. The Lord gave, and the Lord took away; blessed be the name of the Lord.

5. Be sober in prayer.

6. Be vigilant in prayer.

7. To save one’s soul in patience.

—Pap. IV B 161 n.d., 1843

From sketch; see 159:1-3, 205:1-2:

5th Collection of

Upbuilding Discourses.

No. 1. to gain one’s soul in patience (popular).

No. 2. to learn from what one suffers (stringent and upbuilding by its stringency).

No. 3. to learn from what one suffers (popular).

No. 4. to learn from what one suffers (lyrical).

(a) No. 5. to be sober in prayer and to become sober through prayer.

(b) No. 5. patience in expectancies,

on the Gospel for the Sunday after Christmas

Anna.5

—Pap. IV B 160 n.d., 1843-44

From sketch:

Prayer.

Father in heaven! You loved us first.6 Help us never to forget that you are love,7 so that this full conviction might be victorious in our hearts over the world’s allurement, the mind’s unrest, the anxieties over the future, the horrors of the past, the needs of the moment. O grant also that this conviction might form our minds so that our hearts become constant and true in love to them whom you bid us to love as ourselves.—JP III 3394 (Pap. IV B 171) n.d., 1842-44(?)

From sketch:

You Loved Us First8

Father in heaven, let us never forget that you are love, neither when joy claims to make everything comprehensible without you, nor when sorrow’s dark speech . . . . . nor . . . . .

that nothing may take this assurance away from us, neither the present nor the future, nor we ourselves with our foolish desires, but let us hold on to this assurance and you in it. But then grant also that we might remain in you, convinced that he who remains in love remains in you and you in him.9

And when anxieties seek to terrify us, then hasten, God, to give us a testimony.

that this assurance might also form our hearts, that our hearts might remain in love and thereby remain in you, convinced that he who remains in love remains in you and you in him.

might be victorious over the lust of the world, over the restlessness of the mind, over the need of the moment, over the anxiety about the future, over the terrors of the past, this full assurance.—JP III 2401 (Pap. IV B 150) n.d., 1843

From sketch:

To Learn from What One Suffers.

Intro
.

It is so difficult to speak about sufferings; one is so reluctant to omit anyone, and yet it seems that, for example, the quiet ones among us, the simple people, really do not suffer very much.

—The limitation—

—Pap. IV B 162 n.d., 1843

From sketch:

To Learn from What One Suffers.

The qualification of inwardness, any other qualification of learning is external; the deep impression, in comparison with which all other learning is like writing in sand.—Pap. IV B 163 n.d., 1843

From sketch:

Be Vigilant in Prayer

How difficult it is actually to be vigilant. One does not know whether one still is awake, actually is awake, is sleeping internally.

This lends itself to allegorical development in terms of physical awakening.

—JP III 3392 (Pap. IV B 164) n.d., 1843-44

From sketch:

Be Sober in Prayer

To pray (to collect oneself) is a task for the whole soul, no easy matter.10

1. Conditions before prayer

2. During prayer and after it

3. About fulfillment

do not use many words.

do not anxiously interrupt the prayer

to see if it is happening now.

—JP III 3393 (Pap. IV B 165) n.d., 1843-44

From sketch:

How Difficult It Is to Wake Up.

(on the Epistle for the first Sunday in Advent.11)

to be developed from actual sleeping.—

we finally say to a person: Are you actually awake now? Here each one must call himself, not as someone else calls us in the morning in daily life.

The disciples who could not keep themselves awake in Gethsemane.12—Pap. IV B 167 n.d., 1843-44

From sketch:

The Gospel about the two sons, one of whom said yes and did not do it, and the other said no and did it.13

Yes and No

—Pap. IV B 168 n.d., 1843-44

From sketch:

The two ways and the two brothers.

on the Gospel about a father who had two sons; the one promptly said yes and did not do it, the other promptly said no and did it.14

—Pap. IV B 169 n.d., 1843-44

From sketch:

You believe that God is love and that he guides everything into good for you. But where do you find the image of this, where an instructive representation of this love, if you yourself do not develop your life accordingly. If you are not moved by the pleas of the destitute, if you can walk past him and forget, is it not as if in that moment God forgot you, that it must go with you in the world the very same way you let it go with others?—JP I 909 (Pap. IV B 170) n.d., 1843-44(?)

From sketch:

there he sits in his royal dignity; all the splendor of Phoenicia enhances the glory of his rule over God’s chosen people. The crowd surrounds his throne, a confusion of noise—it is pride over the king’s magnificence, envy, reproaches against God for having given him what was denied them—it became still—he is going to stand up—he speaks—but no words come from his lips—he sinks back powerless, the glory of the throne, the splendor of the crown, the purple garment are too heavy for him; he rises again, the people listen—all is vanity, sheer vanity.15—Pap. IV B 172 n.d., 1842-44(?)

From sketch:

I know very well that it is not only the poor who hunger, that there is a hunger that all the treasures of the world cannot satisfy, and yet this hunger is for them—I know very well that there is a thirst that all the streams of overabundance cannot quench, and yet this thirst is for them—I know very well that there is an anxiety, a secret, private anxiety, about losing— —JP I 44 (Pap. IV B 173) n.d., 1842-44(?)

From sketch:

There was a poor widow; she went up to the temple, she laid her mite in the temple box;16 she felt how insignificant she was, how insignificant her gift; she hid herself, she did not want anyone to see her, and yet there was a witness, and she became immortalized in history.

There were those who ranked high in the world; they were prodigal with their overabundance, the world admired them—but how could this be compared with the quietness and solemnity.—Pap. IV B 174 n.d., 1842-44(?)

From sketch; see 31, 125:

Merciful God! We do know that every good gift and every perfect gift comes from you—but you did not send us empty-handed into the world—let not our hands be closed, our hearts be hardened—but add your blessing so that our gift may be a gift from you above, good and perfect.—JP III 3395 (Pap. IV B 175) n.d., 1842-44(?)

From sketch:

In sparse but strong strokes, the Holy Gospel describes for [IV B 176 348] us one of the contrasts we often experience in the world. There was a rich man—there was a poor man.17 Everyone promptly attaches a conception to he was rich (here a digression about the glory of wealth, about the individual’s independence of earthly cares and thereby a possible striving for something higher—), he was poor (digression)—

Still another stroke for the contrast—he was buried, the rich man died and was buried (the animal dies—its body rots away, [IV B 176 349] and no one pays any attention to it; this is why the poor want so much to be buried18). At his departure, the glory of the world gathers around him; he is again clad in costly linen

a large funeral procession, they carried him

—the poor man also died; he was not buried; perhaps was thrown aside because in death he lay in the way, just as he had in life, perhaps in order to clear the way for the magnificent funeral procession—he was carried away by angels.

One thing in common—they died—

One thing in common—they awakened—

—Pap. IV B 176 n.d., 1842-44(?)

From draft of Preface; see 5:

[IV B 143 331] Preface.

That a young theological student ventures to do what even renowned clerical speakers seldom do, to publish sermons, is so odd that no doubt everyone will readily understand my remark that it is my opinion, as well as my desire, that literature will totally ignore them. When the matter is perceived in this way, it may not be such a great disaster if one more little superfluous book comes out. If the author himself is so obliging as to acknowledge, as I do, its superfluity, he shows that he recognizes his duties to his neighbor and has at least done his part to prevent anyone from wasting his money, his time, and his trouble.

These sermons [Prædikener]19 are not published to draw any attention whatever to themselves, much less to their author. They came into existence in concealment and because of their illegitimate and doubtful origin desire to steal through life secretly and unnoticed. They are not published to be read by an authorized critic, something that is already adequately demonstrated by their form, which in more than one way deviates from the authorized form, yet not by way of accidentality of the form in relation to the thought. Only that which is original is the upbuilding and is that only insofar as it remains in its originality as the present, since only the present is the upbuilding, which more and more vanishes when we want to give the originality and naturalness of the mood time to clothe itself, as it were, in the thought, in order that this conventional or historical attire might be more attractive and respectable. But enough of this. It would pain me if this casual remark or these two sermons were to become the assuredly innocent cause that would give one or another genuinely speculative [IV B 143 332] pate occasion by way of συγϰαταβᾶσις [condescension] even to want to explain to me what it is that the times with categorical necessity demand.20 For many reasons, I am far from flattering myself with the satisfying thought of having understood the times; indeed, even wanting to understand the times is itself a task that in its very immensity is suitable only for thinkers, not for more limited pates. In view of this, I have chosen the lesser task, one that our age, which is moved only by great ideas, may call an insignificant and foolish task, for example: to want to understand a very particular human being, for example, oneself. With regard to this task of mine, I have a wish that our age, which lives only for great and spacious ideas, will call foolishness, the wish to be understood by a very particular human being, by the one I with joy, indeed, with gratitude, will call my reader, without concealing that by wanting to be my reader he does more for me than I can do for him by writing for him.

Although this little book wants to be only what it is, a superfluity, and desires only to remain in hiding, I nevertheless have not bidden it farewell without attaching an almost fantastic hope to it. That is, inasmuch as by its publication it is in a figurative sense starting a journey, I let my eyes follow it for a little while. I saw then how it wended its way down solitary paths or walked solitary on public roads. After a few little mistakes, through being deceived by a fleeting resemblance, it finally met that single individual whom I call my reader.—Pap. IV B 143 n.d., 1843

Addition to final copy of Three Upbuilding Discourses (1843); see 5:2-5, 53:2-5:

. . . . . (which is called “discourses,” not sermons, because its author does not have authority to preach; “upbuilding discourses,” not discourses for upbuilding, because the speaker by no means claims to be a teacher)—JP V 5686 (Pap. IV B 159:6) August 9, 1843

From draft of The Book on Adler; see 5:3:

Note. One or another reader perhaps recalls that I have always used this expression about myself qua author, that I am without authority, and have used it so emphatically that it has been repeated as a formula in every preface. Even though as an author I have had no benefit, I have at least done everything finitely possible not to confuse the highest and the holiest. I am a poor individual human being. If I am, as some think, a bit of a genius, about that I would say: Let it go hang. But an apostle is in all eternity qualitatively just as different from me as from the greatest genius who has ever lived and from the most obtuse person who has ever lived.—Pap. VII2 B 235, p. 144 n.d., 1846-47

In margin of final copy; see 5:1, 53:1:

To the typesetter: this is to be printed in the smallest possible brevier.—Pap. IV B 159:5 n.d., 1843

From final copy; see 53:28:

Copenhagen, August 9, 184321 [changed from: Summer 1843 and then deleted].

—Pap. IV B 159:7 n.d., 1843

Addition in margin of final copy; see 55:1:

To the typesetter

The headings are to be printed as large as possible.

—Pap. IV B 159:8 n.d., 1843

Addition to Pap. IV B 144; see 55:2, 69:2:

Above all have a heartfelt love for one another.

I Peter 4:7-12.

—Pap. IV B 145 n.d., 1843

From sketch; see 55-78:

III

God’s Love Hides a M[ultitude of] S[ins]22 [IV B 144 332]

Is this reason to sin. Christianity is a religion for all, for it pardons a woman who was taken in adultery and condemns the man who looks at a woman to lust after her.

When the Pharisees surrounded that woman,23 they discovered [IV B 144 333] a multitude of sins, but Christ wrote in the sand—and hid it.

In Christ everything is revealed—and everything is hidden.

Christ’s love that indulgently hides a multitude of sins and Christ’s love of God, a love that is pleasing to God and under which he hides a multitude of sins.

He who hides a transgression seeks love. Proverbs 17:9.—JP III 2397 (Pap. IV B 144) n.d., 1843

Addition to Pap. IV B 144:

Love conquers all—more accurately characterized: struggling love. [IV B 146 333]

(1) It struggles with itself.24

Therefore a clear and definite conception of his own weakness is required of him who is to be possessed [by love]—and then to rejoice in happiness—I wonder if it is so easy.

(2) It struggles with time.25

Therefore a concrete conception of time is required of him—and then to rejoice in happiness—Oh! I wonder if it is so easy.

(3) It struggles with vicissitude. [IV B 146 334]

Therefore he must have undergone a religious change—and then really to rejoice in his happiness—I wonder if it is so easy.—JP III 2398 (Pap. IV B 146) n.d., 1843

Addition to Pap. IV B 144:

(Love Casts Out Fear)

Perhaps you would like to do much for another person whom you think you love, but you want it to succeed for you, you want to be recognized for it, admired if not by others at least by the particular person; but you are honest enough to confess to yourself that even with the greatest effort you are able to do only a little. This little you do not want to do, because it is so humbling—consequently you do not love the other person as yourself.

Perhaps love requires that you shall yield. If a father said to his son: We must be separated—would it be a proof of his love for his father if he said: Should I forsake you?—it is indeed the father’s wish.

Self-love is egotism unless it is also love for God—thereby love for others.—JP III 2399 (Pap. IV B 147) n.d., 1843

Addition to Pap. IV B 144;

[IV B 148 334] Above All Have a Heartfelt Love for One Another26

Christianity has been accused of assuming too little in human beings, of making clods of them—yet it assumes that people love themselves; for it says that we must love our neighbor as we love ourselves.27 This is not merely a hard truth but a profound connecting point.

[IV B 148 335] See index to Augustine,28 first part, under the article amor probus—improbus [honorable love—dishonorable].

Love can express itself in many external works, but all these works can also be lacking in love. We can gain friends by unrighteous mammon, but everything disappears; this is not the love being discussed here; it must be an abiding love since it is to have power to hide a multitude of sins.

And only that one is unhappy who is either too vain to be able to love what he must admire or whose inclination governs him so that he loves what he despises.

heartfelt: the qualification of inwardness. Whatever does not proceed from faith is of evil; the same holds for love. Romans 14:23. Psalm 15:4.

The love that, if it has bound itself to its own detriment, nevertheless does not change it [the promise]; but if it has bound itself to another person, to detriment, it changes it.

In margin:

Intro.

When an apostle talks about love, it is something different from the frequently disappointing, frequently confusing talk we generally hear—and yet he adds: a heartfelt . . . . . —JP III 2400 (Pap. IV B 148) n.d., 1843

From sketch; see 69:1:

For No. 229

Lord, our God, you know all, the most secret thought, and when apprehensions would dismay us, when the grief of sin overwhelms us—then hurry, O Lord, and give witness to love, that it may again be victorious in our soul and hide a multitude of our sins.—JP III 3391 (Pap. IV B 149) n.d., 1843

Deleted from final copy; see 77:17:

Or is not God’s heart greater than a human being’s?—Pap. IV B 159:14 n.d., 1843

From sketch; see 79:3-17:

[IV B 151:1 336] Give what you will—only give the witness along with it and therein yourself—the joy—be joyful in you—the sorrow—sorrow in you—take everything, if only I may keep the witness—even death’s message, that it comes with greetings and witness from you.

lest joy tear us away from you in the forgetfulness of pleasure, lest sorrow separate you from us.

You have all the good gifts, and your abundance is greater than human understanding can grasp; you are willing to give, [IV B 151:1 337] and your goodness is greater than human understanding grasps—and yet no human being ventures to request it of you, but therefore we request it of you, and we have this comfort, that you grant every prayer in that you give either what we pray for or that which is far better than that for which we pray.

to be strengthened in the inner being

—Pap. IV B 151:1 n.d., 1843

Deleted from sketch; see 80:2-81:6, 84:17-31:

Intro.

The apostle is in prison.

God assigned man to be the lord of nature. He puts a question to it and demands an explanation from it, a witness.—Pap. IV B 151:2 n.d., 1843

Deleted from sketch; see 86:3:

concerned knowledge

—Pap. IV B 151:8 n.d., 1843

Deleted from sketch; see 86:31-35:

. . . . . the explanation that creation by itself can give is very equivocal, can mean this and that and the opposite—it does not benefit a person—one does not know whether it is God’s mercy or his wrath—therefore the pagans’ anxiety and the oracle’s mysteriousness.—Pap. IV B 151:5 n.d., 1843

Deleted from sketch; see 86:35-87:19:

Every explanation that comes from God is a strengthening in the inner being, be it good fortune and prosperity and joy—the person who builds his barns larger and thanks God for it, should this not be a strengthening

Proclaimer of

That which announces itself in this witness is the inner being, which here is established according to its possibility—Pap. IV B 151:7 n.d., 1843

From final draft; see 86:35:

. . . . . and any witness of this kind is deceitful, and any expression of this knowledge is enigmatic and only engenders anxiety in the same way as it dwelt in the soul of the pagans when the secret wisdom attempted to explain the relation of everything to a person.—Pap. IV B 152 n.d., 1843

From sketch; see 87:20-89:31, 93:7-98:33, 98:26-101:21:

1. when everything witnesses with.

the immediate demonstration is no demonstration in

the inner being

when one achieves that for which one has worked, one

is to thank not oneself for that but God; otherwise it

is no demonstration in the inner being.

2. when everything witnesses against.

adversity can come from other people; God allows

it—or from God—ordeal

Faith, Hope, Love.

there is a hope that is the playmate of childhood; it does not persevere in the ordeal. There is another hope that is gained in the ordeal (experience gives hope); it perseveres, it cannot be put to shame, because it is strongest when the suffering is greatest.

3. God’s assistance.

the witness is still God’s gift, even though a person can almost extort it from God, like that widow.30 Conclusion

about God’s fatherly love.

—Pap. IV B 151:3 n.d., 1843

From sketch; see 88:6-89:3:

We often hear people say

the world is so deceitful—they are thinking of adversity—only a more earnest individual is almost more fearful of prosperity. —And Job was an old man; he prayed for his children when they went to parties.

—Pap. IV B 153:1 n.d., 1843

In margin of Pap. IV B 153:1:

. . . . . in this respect one person will not believe another. It is good that one can learn to help oneself in the inner being, something one cannot learn from others.—Pap. IV B 153:2 n.d., 1843

In margin of final draft; see 88:33-37:

. . . . . and thus no discourse, not even the most glorious, can help another person, because no one, after all, understands another person except the spirit that is within him.—Pap. IV B 154:1 n.d., 1843

From final draft; see 89:5-11:

Consider him, the fortunate one, the favored one, who does not sow and does not gather into barns31—he walks so lightly, his life a dance,

The world is always ready with explanation and testimony.

he who has the world is like one who does not have it, and only he who, when he has the world, is like one who does not have the world, only he has the world; otherwise the world has him.—Pap. IV B 154:2 n.d., 1843

From sketch; see 90:34-37:

Prosperity can have its basis in his being more sagacious, stronger, etc., in something that lies within himself.—Pap. IV B 153:5 n.d., 1843

From sketch; see 90:18-26:

. . . . . but he rejoices over God* more than over all this—he who has the world is like someone who does not have it—he who uses it is like someone who does not misuse it.—Pap. IV B 153:3 n.d., 1843

In margin of Pap. IV B 153:3, see 90:38-91:4:

*only he is in legitimate possession of it. This is why the fortunate person is uneasy, this is why the powerful man, before whom the whole world trembles, trembles. Then what does the legitimate possession lack.—Pap. IV B 153:4 n.d., 1843

Deleted from sketch; see 92:22-24:

. . . . . there were those who gradually lost the inner being—

or those in the moment of good fortune who made the mistake of thinking that they had themselves to thank for it, although earlier they had to confess that they were not capable of it by their own powers.—Pap. IV B 151:6 n.d., 1843

From sketch; see 93:36-95:4:

When would the inner being be more likely to awaken than in adversity, when the world withholds itself—but then existence shows itself as anarchy and this evokes a response in a person; he surrenders to it, and then the inner being is lost and all is vanity.—Pap. IV B 151:9 n.d., 1843

From sketch; see 95:5-25:

1. the concerned person.

the wish.

the temptation to abandon himself to the apparent anarchy—a kind of despair.

but the person who had the concern in his soul before the external concern came to him, the person whose soul was never satisfied by joy in such a way that it did not retain a concern until the witness came, but neither was it overwhelmed by the concern in such a way that the possibility of joy vanished as long as a witness was possible—he gradually threw overboard the worldly weight of earthly desires.

the earthly desires that once were wings for him

hope.

—Pap. IV B 158:1 n.d., 1843

From sketch; see 95:34-96:26:

2. the person who was wronged.

by people

faithlessness—envy, which would like to halt him in the good.

—hate and revenge.

love of God.

whether people rose up against him as brigands or deserted him as deceivers.

a person could win another’s love and lose God’s

a love that does not weary of doing good.

—Pap. IV B 158:2 n.d., 1843

From sketch; see 97:20-98:25:

3. the person who was tried.

the trouble was not external. —People were favorably disposed toward him—and yet distress—ordeal. His soul froze.

the temptation to boast of being lost.

faith.

—Pap. IV B 158:3-4 n.d., 1843

From sketch; see 99:8-19:

. . . . when we speak of the external gifts and then call God father, it is a metaphorical expression, figurative, but inwardly understood, and indeed the inner being asks not about the gift but about the giver, not about what he gives but about who it is who gives—then it is a literal expression.—Pap. IV B 158:7 n.d., 1843

From sketch; see 99:19-20:

. . . . . only the inner being understands that God is father.—Pap. IV B 158:6 n.d., 1843

From sketch; see 99:24-28:

. . . . . comes with the gift in a feeling or mood, can give himself essentially and penetrate the whole gift—Pap. IV B 158:9 n.d., 1843

From sketch; see 99:19-28:

. . . . . it is a metaphorical expression, and it almost seems inadequate. When you want to raise it up to God, it fades away.—Pap. IV B 158:8 n.d., 1843

From sketch; see 99:37-100:27:

When you came to him and had gained the whole world

But your earthly [father] could rejoice with you only on the chance that it would not become a snare for you; since only God can rejoice totally with you, because if you rejoice with God over it, then the temptation retreats.—Pap. IV B 158:5 n.d., 1843

From sketch; see 101:7-22:

The person who turned back to his first love is always happy. Fortunate is the person who truthfully dared to say that God was his first love. Fortunate the person who, however tossed about in the world, nevertheless turned back to it again.—Pap. IV B 151:4 n.d., 1843

See 223:6-7:

. . . . . Even if prayer does not accomplish anything here on earth, it nevertheless works in heaven.—JP III 3390 (Pap. IV A 145) n.d., 1843

See 223:6-7:

. . . . . Of course, when prayer is heard here on earth and mingles with busy human speech, it is idle talk, but it is working in heaven; and frequently prayer does sow in corruption, but nevertheless it harvests in incorruption.32—JP III 3396 (Pap. IV A 171) n.d., 1844

Deleted from final copy; see 231:9:

He is often reminded of that convict who certainly knew how to expound on the condition of his fellow prisoners and say the words that tethered their minds in the sorrowful service of unfreedom but yet was himself a leper just like the others.—Pap. V B 195:4 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 242:1-243:3:

Think about your Creator in the days of your youth

My listener, perhaps you need a demonstration of the existence of God—indeed, then my discourse will look good before I am even finished with it, and then I come to the discourse—or do you not feel the mockery of you as the text is read. —Even though the Preacher ordinarily speaks rigorously to people, he nevertheless is so courteous as to assume that you understand that there is a God and is not so vain as to think that he has invented the existence of God.—Pap. V B 194 n.d., 1844

Deleted from final copy; see 247:34:

. . . . . because he who heeds the wind will not sow, and he who regards the clouds will not reap (Ecclesiastes 11:4).—Pap. V B 195:6 n.d., 1844

Deleted from final copy; see 282:29:

And just as one country keeps a trusted person at another’s court, so the single individual keeps a highly trusted thought at God’s throne in order to know immediately when the servant’s time is at an end.—Pap. V B 195:7 n.d., 1844

In margin of final copy; see 291:1:

To the typesetter. The entire book is to be printed in the same types used in 1843 for Two Upbuilding Discourses and with the same number of lines per page.—JP V 5734 (Pap. V B 232:1) n.d., 1844

From draft; see 295:2-29:

Though this little book (                  ) is now once again going out into the world, it hopes even less than the first to draw any irrelevant attention to itself or occasion new misunderstanding,[*] since it presumably is so familiar that the passers by who see it only in passing are not further disturbed by it and let it freely go its way.[**] Now and then one sees a messenger who goes his way at certain times, and precisely because those whom it does not concern know that this is the case, they let it go and know at once that this is no concern of theirs.

[*]In margin: since it no doubt has rather accustomed the passersby to letting it shift for itself.

[**]In margin: So it is now and then with a child who comes at certain times and occasionally brings food to a prisoner. The first time he perhaps is stopped, but when he comes later, the guard and the superintendent say: Just let him go, and as soon as they see the child, they are not concerned with him and let him go his way.—Pap. V B 233:1 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 295:2-14:

[V B 233:2 361] Though this little book (         ) is now going out once again, it is even less fearful than the first of awakening any irrelevant attention but hopes that precisely because of the repetition the passersby have become accustomed to letting it shift for itself. So it is now and then with a child bringing food to a prisoner. The first time he perhaps [V B 233:2 362] even attracted attention, but soon he is familiar, and no attention is paid to him except to let him go on his errand undisturbed.—Pap. V B 233:2 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 295:2-29:

[V B 233:7 362] Though this little book (             ) is again going out into the world, it is even less fearful of drawing irrelevant attention to itself than the first time it went out, hopes rather that the passersby, insofar as they notice it, will let it shift for itself. A messenger now and then goes his way at certain times

The first time he perhaps even attracted someone’s attention, but soon he is so familiar that no attention is paid to him except to let him go his way without even turning to look at him. In the same way, it goes out to seek that single individual whom I with joy and gratitude call my reader, in order to pay him a visit, indeed, in order to stay with him, not to leave [V B 233:7 363] him again as that messenger does. That is, as soon as he has received it, then it has ceased to be, because it is nothing for itself and by itself, but, all that it is, it is only for him and by him. And although the trails always lead ahead to that favorably disposed person, not back, and although the previous messenger never returns home, and although the person who is sending it never discovers anything about its fate—the next messenger nevertheless cheerfully goes its way in order to disappear, never to return home, and this is precisely the joy of him who sends them.—Pap. V B 233:7 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 295:2-29:

Though this little book (                 ) is once [V B 233:8 363] again going out into the world, it is even less fearful of drawing any irrelevant[*] attention to itself than the first time it started on its journey and hopes rather that because of the repetition the passersby will scarcely notice it, and in any case only[**] to let it shift for itself. A messenger now and then goes his routine way at set times. The first time he perhaps even attracted someone’s attention, but soon he is familiar and so familiar that no attention is paid to him[***] except to let him go his way without even turning to look after him. So then the book goes out to seek and to find that single individual whom I with j. and g. c. m. r., in order to pay him a visit, [****] indeed, in order to stay with him and not leave him again, as that messenger does. That is, as soon as he has received it, then it has ceased to be, because it is nothing for itself and by itself, but all that it is, it is only for him and by him. And although the trails always lead ahead to my reader, not back, and although the previous messenger never returns home and although the one who sends it never discovers anything about its fate, the next messenger nevertheless goes happily through death to life, cheerfully goes its way in order to disappear, never to return home again—and this is precisely the joy of him who sends it.

[*]In margin: impeding

[**]In margin: as something irrelevant

[***]In margin: he is scarcely noticed [V B 233:8 364]

[****]In margin: as a messenger, yet not like that messenger in order to turn back again; it

—Pap. V B 233:8 n.d., 1844

From sketch; see 295:10:

Only in this way does the one follow the others, and their author never hears more from them and does not desire it.—Pap. V B 233:5 n.d., 1844

From sketch; see 295:10:

Storks and swallows are, of course, esteemed birds, but the first starling also signifies spring. Perhaps someone looks around for the first starling, but the second one—who cares about it?

—Pap. V B 233:9 n.d., 1844

From sketch; see 295:10-21:

Someone who is not a prisoner and to whom it does not intend to bring food but merely wants to visit, but whom it, unlike that messenger, does not leave again, because as soon as he has received it, it has ceased to be, since it is not for itself and by itself, but all that it is, it is only for him and by him.—Pap. V B 233:4 n.d., 1844

In margin of Pap. V B 233:4; see 295:15-16:

. . . . . and the discourse seeks that single individual whom I with joy call my reader, whom it does not expect to find as a prisoner, even less expects to be able to release him, not even to bring him food, but only wants to visit him—Pap. V B 233:6 n.d., 1844

From sketch; see 295:21-27:

. . . . . and although the trails always lead ahead to that single individual and not back, and although the previous messenger never returns home, yet it goes almost cheerfully and happily the same way—in order to disappear, never to return home—and this indeed is the joy of him who sends it.—Pap. V B 233:3 n.d., 1844

Deleted from margin in final copy; see 295:28-29:

. . . . . who here for the last time is sending such a one and therefore wishes to bid farewell to his reader, since he has never wished to be remembered but only to be forgotten.—Pap. V B 232:8 n.d., 1844

From sketch; see 297:1-326:14:

To need God is a human being’s highest perfection. [V B 196 340]

Text

among those born of women none is greater; yet he who is least in the kingdom of God is greater than he.33

If a human being did not have absolute need of God, he [V B 196 341] could not

1. know himself—self-knowledge.

2. be immortal.

—JP I 53 (Pap. V B 196) n.d., 1844

From sketch; see 300:4:

A human being’s highest achievement is to let God be able to help him.—JP I 54 (Pap. V B 198) n.d., 1844

From sketch:

Great men like Xerxes34 and others have a slave to remind them to do this and that, but someone who is eager to thank God and yet is afraid that ultimately he will forget to do so has only one to whom he can turn—to God himself—with the prayer that he will remind him to give thanks. Is it not strange! So little can a human being do without God that he cannot even do without God’s help in thanking God.—Pap. V B 197 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 300:5-16:

Pause now a moment, lest we confuse everything by mixing things together without noticing the sting of the thought.—Pap. V B 200 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 302:21-25:

He still had a powerful man who wanted to do everything good for him. —now have the analogy to God’s not helping him in external ways be that that man cannot (if you think that the reason God does not do it is that he is unwilling, then you indeed misunderstand everything).—Pap. V B 201 n.d., 1844

In margin of draft; see 308:29-33:

. . . . if he, before the eye aims at something and makes a conquest of it, first captures the eye so that it may belong to him and not he to the eye; if he, before the hand grasps for something, first grasps the hand so that it may belong to him . . . . . —Pap. V B 205 n.d., 1844

In margin of draft; see 310:5-10:

Fenelon, quoted from Jacobi, Werke,35 I, p. 173 bottom.

—Pap. V B 207:1 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 312:2-16:

[V B 207:2 342] . . . . . he cannot himself decide.* And if we now, perhaps out of habit and thoughtlessness, speak about the greatness of Moses as we speak about all other greatness, there no doubt would be some contemporary of his who would be foolish enough to smile at Moses—if he did not come to admire him [V B 207:2 343] by taking his greatness in vain—and be foolish enough to say: If only I were Moses, I certainly would—alas, if he had been Moses he certainly would have understood that he himself was capable of nothing at all. But precisely because Moses had understood this, he was happy and confident in his trust in God, and in whatever happened he was blessed in the understanding that he was suitable to God precisely because he himself was capable of nothing at all.

In margin: *not even in the moment when the staff is already touching the rock.—Pap. V B 207:2 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 313:12-16:

. . . . . to something else* but did not know himself in relation to himself.

In margin: *there can be changes, and thereby he is changed (another becomes the strongest, the most handsome, the richest, etc.: basically there are implicit in this person’s immediate self-relationship to his environment all of the sophistic positions Socrates fought against, that the strongest is the just36 etc.).—JP I 914 (Pap. V B 207:3) n.d., 1844

In margin of draft; see 314:9-32:

As soon as he turns and faces himself, he will discover that the other to which his first self relates is changeable. As soon as he wants to relate to it, the other self will form him in such a way that it retains the upper hand. Now he comes to a standstill. It is difficult, to be sure, just like rising from sleep to hard work; indeed, it is far easier to go on sleeping and let oneself be lulled by the lullabies of other people.—Pap. V B 207:4 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 321:18-29:

Indeed, he truly did become happy, as we shall now show more explicitly.—Pap. V B 207:5 n.d., 1844

In margin of draft; see 323:23:

. . . . . like the spiritual trial of sorrow—since once one has become unhappy, one really prospers—but whether it would not have been better not to have become unhappy at all . . . . . —Pap. V B 207:6 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 324:26-32:

. . . . . but this never would have happened with God.[*] But from this it does not follow that such a person’s life always becomes easy; on the contrary, it can become very hard, but even when he suffers most, he will not for all the world change places with anyone whom suffering does not place in relation to God.

[*]In margin: and the person who truly has God as witness seldom has him as judge, as it is in the earthly—Pap. V B 207:7 n.d., 1844

From draft;37 see 330:9:

So it perhaps also happens at times in life, and since we are supposed to talk about sufferings, and since it seems to be characteristic of the times that one is not as likely to become self-important through honor, power, and superiority as by sufferings, and since there is a profound truth in regarding suffering as the true means of education, it would perhaps be helpful to bring to mind the untruth in this view. But since we do not have the authority to admonish, we choose another means. Smile only a little at what I will now tell you, my listener; it still is and continues to be an upbuilding discourse, and if by hearing it you are brought to smile at yourself, then the discourse has in fact induced you to admonish yourself. There was once a man who had a riding horse; every time he came home after having ridden, he was somewhat fatigued but was nevertheless pleased with the horse, pleased with riding. Then one day another man borrowed his horse and quickly turned back, explaining in the strongest terms that the horse jolted terribly. The owner answered, “Does it really? I never knew that, for since I have never ridden another horse, I believed that this was the way riding was supposed to be and that the rough motion was part of the fun.” Yet from that moment on a change came over him; he never rode anymore because he could not find a horse that was sufficiently smooth-riding, and because finally he wanted the impossible—that the horse should move without one’s detecting it. In the same way, my listener, there is perhaps many a one who bears life’s sorrows and tribulations in the belief [*] that they are part of living, indeed, that they are part of the enjoyment—until someone tells him that living is dreadful, and he is never happy anymore but at most becomes self-important by not being happy and by being able to reject everything in life.

[*]In margin: since I have never lived before, I believed that this was the way life was supposed to be and that this was part of the enjoyment.—Pap. V B 209:2 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 330: 10:

This has been said; let it now also be forgotten [changed from: But if the suffering is true and deep, then it does not help to want to smile]—Pap. V B 209:3 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 330:31-331:9:

..... does it perhaps also apply to the suffering in which [V B 209:4 344] faith is born, in which faith is victorious, in which hope is developed and acquires its eternal object and love learns to grasp God.

It is this, the highest of life’s sufferings, about which the [V B 209:4 345] apostle speaks. Even though it is painful that they exist, they are still unable to overwhelm a person who has the apostle’s guidance and explanation, because the very fact that before he is tried in them he learns that they exist is already a counterweight against them. Not so with the apostle, who himself first experienced the suffering that hitherto no human being had known, as surely, that is, as there otherwise was a higher life in an apostle than there had ever been in any human being before him and as surely as life, the higher and more devout it becomes, causes deeper pains. What the apostle has experienced primitively can be experienced frequently, experienced again and again; and therefore it is of benefit to speak of it but, please note, in such a way that it signifies something universal, and we are not concerned about learning merely historically what kind of illness P. suffered from.[*] This is of minor importance, and of course the dissimilar in the individual can become the designation for it, but what is described there is something universal

[*]In margin: in the same sense as whether P. was tall or short—Pap. V B 209:4 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 337:1-14:

. . . . . when he was caught up into the third heaven, when he was hidden in the bosom of beatitude, and as if there were no more strife for him, no presentiment of strife, but all victory—but that this can vanish again![*] What confidence can one have in that? And what shall a person do in order to grasp it again? There is nothing to do; it is God’s grace itself that overshadows a person. And can it ever come again? No one knows that. But faith? Yes, if it has not already grasped it—but to have grasped it and now to be thrust back.

[*]In margin: It is hard enough for a person to experience the faithlessness of human beings—but God’s faithlessness—Pap. V B 211:2 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 337:28:

And it is indeed also true that it may seem this way to a person, but an apostle is recognized by his knowing that it is beneficial for him.—Pap. V B 213:1 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 338:18-23:

Then he understands, however, only the self-accusation if the past has the kind of claim upon his soul that no repentance can redeem but only make more terrible, that no trusting in God entirely wipes out, but only God himself—that is, when he is again with God.—Pap. V B 212:1 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 340:25-26:

. . . . . because what the earnest person lays the stress on [V B 212:2 346] particularly is that it is he who is the guilty one, and he is not comforted by having been willing himself to forgive and acquit all other human beings if they were in the same situation. Therefore, for the individual person, something that we ordinarily would call a minor fault can be sufficient, not for him to despair but for him to be unable to acquit himself and for him to keep a bygone in his soul that in time can always find an opportunity to alarm him now and then. In this way, every human being can experience the same thing, and the difference between people lies not so much in the different things that they experience as in the modes in which they experience [V B 212:2 347] them, because every human being experiences the essential. Thus no person has ever lived who has not had occasion to experience that he was a sinner, but is it therefore experienced by everyone! But a past sin is not therefore annihilated and can never be entirely annihilated in time; it is still a part of him, and something that once had power over him can indeed still acquire it.—Pap. V B 212:2 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 341:29-34:

What if he had stood still in the race, what if recollection had seized him, what if apprehensive ruminating had overwhelmed him, whether he would be able to find them again, to rescue them again, to do something good again—and perhaps it could not be done.—Pap. V B 212:3 n.d., 1844

In margin of draft; see 341:37-342:9:

. . . . . (what an upheaval in thought and mind † I place a cross here so that no one will light-mindedly slip by).—Pap. V B 213:3 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 342:12-13:

. . . . . had given recollection time to wound him with the thought of the terror, what if he had not had the humility to understand that it was forgiven him, what if he had made the mistake of wanting to let his work night and day, his apostolic task, make satisfaction for it, and from this viewpoint all this work showed itself to be nothing—Pap. V B 213:4 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 342:34:

. . . . . so that he would not pride himself.—Pap. V B 212:4 n.d., 1844

In margin of draft; see 343:7:

Psychological detail in the single individual.—Pap. V B 213:5 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 343:18-345:15:

And the person who has been caught up into the third heaven has indeed grasped this; for him the rest of beatitude has begun, and now he has to run again.

In margin: In an old devotional book, it says that God deals with a human being as the hunter deals with game in hunting—he gives it a little time to rest and catch its breath, and then the chase begins again. The truth and the falsity of this.—Pap. V B 212:5 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 343:18-22:

. . . . . call it a glorious ending to misunderstanding’s arduous wandering, when the explanation illuminated [lyste ind] it and explained the suffering and the loss[*] and the meaning of the anxiety and pronounced [lyste] the blessed peace of understanding upon it; but there was still one little word lacking, call it a glorious ending to the arduous wandering in the desert of unintelligibility,

[*]In margin: and the danger and the difficulty—Pap. V B 215 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 343:24-26:

. . . . . had already grasped at the treasure, and you still have enough strength to reach it with your last effort, but it is still a finger-breadth away—Pap. V B 214:1 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 344:22-345:15:

This discourse is true in a sense, [*] but its upbuilding value is doubtful. The apostle, however, knows that it is beneficial for him. He who had been caught up into the third heaven had already entered into rest and now again perceived that the thorn in the flesh festered with new pain; he knows it is beneficial for him in that every temporal anxiety that desires must be consumed, every self-confidence[**] that wants to be complete must burn out in the distress of the future; it is beneficial for the apostle so that he will not become proud, he who did indeed fight the good fight; it is beneficial for many that the apostle is with them once again. [***]

[*]In margin: This chase, if it is true, will also be a race toward the perfect, so that every time one pauses for breath, one advances.

Here the part about the relapse. After some time, everything becomes milder, the sin less terrible, sadder; finally one is almost unable to understand that it was possible for a person, but the relapse teaches one again.

[**]In margin: that craves to be deceived in order to become what it is

[***]In margin: One is not unacquainted with the relapse but thinks that nevertheless now everything has become better, but a new relapse will place a leaden weight upon one.—Pap. V B 214:2 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 345:30-346:2:

But if time goes very slowly, if it finally stands still, then the past has again won the opportunity. Who but God knows what serves a person best? What will another person need if even Paul needed an angel of Satan lest he become proud? But, on the other hand, what more will anyone need than what Paul had, the simple, reassuring words: It is beneficial for me.—Pap. V B 212:6 n.d., 1844

In margin of draft; see 345:32-346:2:

If one does not know the inexpressible beatitude, neither will one know the thorn in the flesh in the future.

not of the one who runs (Romans 9:16)

—Pap. V B 214:3 n.d., 1844

Deleted from final copy; see 347:1:

No. 3.

—Pap. V B 232:10 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 384:23-35:

The listener probably would long to hear a discourse like that again. But if he had occasion to speak with another person to whom he had praised the speaker and his eloquence, he would perhaps speak in another way. He no doubt would say: I am well aware that my words will offend you, because in the first place I have to say that that speaker is a deceiver, and in the second place that you have let yourself be deceived. Or have you perhaps come to a resolution. No—Pap. V B 216:2 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 349:26-350:4:

. . . . . but humbly to confess that one is in it [danger], and the pride one chose is to an extent a cowardly pride insofar as it would take a humbler courage to understand that one was in danger and now to rescue oneself from it. Even to discover this danger can tempt to pride, which increases according to one’s discovery of the terror of the danger until, proud of one’s discovery, one becomes fearful of the danger. It is useless to help someone who has not learned first and foremost that the most terrible cowardliness is that which comes in the guise of pride; he will little by little be deceived and come into the situation an experienced man[*] calls the most miserable: to have an abundance of intentions and a poverty of action, to be rich in truths and poor in virtues.

[*]In margin: Ludvig de Ponte38

—Pap. V B 216:3 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 351:7-352:14:

. . . . . in God’s administration, it is more concise, because God has organized it in such a way that, if not before, then on judgment day, and not until then is it really time, everyone becomes his own informer, accuser, the witness against himself—so there is danger. And this danger is not in a crucial moment but is daily, and this makes the discourse about it so difficult, because the discourse must constantly contradict itself. As it is already doing here, it is indeed glorious to come to a crucial resolution, and why is it called crucial? And yet this discourse was described as a deception compared with one that speaks about daily affairs, and as a tested man has said: Do what you can for God, and he will do for you what you cannot do.39 This, you see, is why the one who creeps arrives at the goal sooner than the one who flies, since he does not arrive there at all.—Pap. V B 216:4 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 356:35-357:2

This Very Day

—Pap. V B 234 n.d., 1844

Deleted from draft; see 358:14:

Let us pause a moment at this point. Someone who wants to erect a tower sits down and makes a rough estimate—Pap. V B 218:1 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 360:3-6:

Or is it not just as when doubt congratulates itself on having rooted out all superstition, and knows that it does not believe anything untrue, but has forgotten that it is just as great a misfortune not to believe what is true.—Pap. V B 218:2 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 362:13-16:

And someone who makes a rough estimate of his life understands it differently, and cowardliness helps him to drink the good wine first and then be sickened by the dregs or to perish because he has nothing but water to drink; but the person who makes a resolution no longer makes a rough estimate—he understands everything differently.—Pap. V B 218:3 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 363:10-16:

. . . . . possesses nothing.* No, do what you can; you can come to a resolution, and then God will do for you what you cannot do.

Venture all, therefore, only in trust in God (to be developed).

In margin: *which again is a hidden pride, because he fears that in the moment of resolution it will appear how little it is—so it is nevertheless better to fool oneself and entertain obscure conceptions while one holds off the decision and deceives oneself as if one did not entertain these conceptions.—Pap. V B 218:4 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 364:23-28:

. . . . . so that one needs to hold back

To be developed.

In margin: is one then so close to madness because one is a little depressed—Pap. V B 218:5 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 366:22-33:

But in this way cowardliness has indeed disturbed the continuity of life, which the resolution wanted.

Who does not see now that it is cowardliness and this cowardliness a concealed pride.—Pap. V B 218:6 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 370:33:

. . . . . a woman’s, since this modesty conceals that in this feeling he is with God, and in truth to be in understanding with God is something so high that one does not dare to name it, lest one defile it, and if one named it, one is almost afraid of smiling at the thought that it actually would be so—that is, if being in understanding with God has not become a geläufig [current] idiom—Pap. V B 220:1 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 371:21-23:

. . . . . when thoughtlessness and gibberish and half-baked feelings and hasty resolutions and misunderstanding and prinked-up self-love and the sickly intoxication of promises and intentions attack someone like that.—Pap. V B 220:3 n.d., 1844

In margin of draft; see 371:33-36:

. . . . . when all are willing to give the good their words and yet not do it, then it is tempting to say no and yet do it, like the son in the Gospel (the one brother).40—Pap. V B 220:4 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 373:9:

About Solitude

Ecclesiastes 4:10. Woe to him who is alone; if he falls, there is no one else to raise him up.

—Pap. V B 235 n.d., 1844

Deleted from final copy; see 377:1:

No. 4.

—Pap. V B 232:11 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 377:1-3, 382:27-29:

By struggling aright in prayer, the marvel comes to pass that God in heaven and you are victorious, because you are victorious in that God is victorious.—JP III 3397 (Pap. V B 221) n.d., 1844

From draft; see 384:8-12:

. . . . . flung himself as something miserable and thereby caused new pain to the person who wished him well, was so weak and base as to appeal to the sympathy of the one whose kindness and solicitude he refused to understand, did all he could by his prayer to bewilder the understanding of the person who, strained to the utmost, worked for the welfare of the one praying.—Pap. V B 227:1 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 386:10-22:

The misrelation between inwardness and maturity is to find fault—for example, if someone in the same way as a child would thank God because he won in the lottery but could not endure the least little thing. Now the possibility of conflict is apparent, because deep within there nevertheless lives the thought that everything must be ascribed to God, and it is the inwardness of this innermost thought that nourishes prayer.—Pap. V B 227:2 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 387:19-30:

. . . . . in that case he might, and rightfully so, turn his back on you lest what you say go like a sword through his heart, nail him to a cross of bleak common sense, trap him in the powerlessness of a supercilious sagacity.—Pap. V B 227:3 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 391:4-26:

. . . . . but since you did have this confidence in me and although you disagreed with me you had in your innermost being an integrity that made you stick with me, I was also convinced that in the end you would yourself perceive it, perceive it with all joy, as if you yourself had thought it up.

In margin: then for the first time modesty awakened by his struggle he had strengthened me

—Pap. V B 227:4 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 392:9-33:

Inwardness is the eternal, and desire is the temporal, but the temporal cannot hold out with the eternal. Desire glows less and less fervently, and at last its time is over, but the time of inwardness is never over. Inwardness, its need for God, has then conquered, and the supplicant does not seek God in the external world, does not create him in his desires, but finds him in his inner being, and finally believes that he himself never did desire so vehemently, never has been in such a misunderstanding, and believes that such as he now has become he was from the beginning. But he does not therefore pray less than before, because that which made him pray was inwardness, and it has now conquered.—JP II 2114 (Pap. V B 227:5) n.d., 1844

In margin of draft; see 392:34-36:

It was an illusion that they contended; they were friends.—Pap. V B 228:2 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 392:38-393:6:

. . . . . as if this were a demonstration and the genuine demonstration of God’s love, and as if by the aid of this alone one had an understanding with God. Indeed, it is to lose oneself and lose God, because he who has no more certain demonstration than the uncertain does not possess God and is not possessed by him. Now see how changed.

In margin: that one learns to thank a god, indeed, has become a lifelong debtor to him whom one has oneself made into an idol by one’s prayer and by one’s thanks.—Pap. V B 227:6 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 393:8-22:

b. God has become changed, for now it has indeed become manifest that he is unchanging. —Not the cold changelessness of the understanding.—Pap. V B 229:2 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 393:23-394:11:

The change

a. The one who prays has become one who prays aright, and he was convinced that if he only understood how to pray aright then everything would be good.

that before God he began to concentrate on one single wish, since otherwise all dying to the world is only delusion.

—Pap. V B 229:1 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 394:21-35:

2.

How many strugglers there are, how hidden and private the struggle in a person’s inner being frequently is.

The one whom God has selected out of the relationship with other human beings and selected for solitary pain. The struggle here is to obtain an explanation from God—not to explain God—which is beneficial. He does not himself hit upon something and wish, but he bears the privation and the loss and prays only for an explanation of why he must suffer it. —But God refuses to give him the whole explanation.*

—Pap. V B 229:3 n.d., 1844

Addition to Pap. V B 229:3; see 396:3-4:

*God cannot give him the whole explanation, for when is the Comforter coming? Just as in the past, when Christ had gone away, that is, when all earthly joy and certainty had vanished, which is why Christ said: It is beneficial for you that I go away, since otherwise the Comforter cannot come.—Pap. V B 229:4 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 394:21-395:14:

His plans do not range widely abroad, his thoughts are not busy in the world; he is pondering only an explanation. And he dares to testify to himself that he is not a child who thinks that all that is needed is to ask a passerby about it or a young girl who thinks that the pastor may explain it in passing. No, he works, and in the daytime when life is noisy, his thought works at drowning out the noise; when everything is still at night, his thought is working. That he could find an explanation so that the whole thing may be efficacious for him—efficacious, yes, that is the name of the bridge he wants to throw from his pain across to his blessedness, but see, the storm of sufferings cuts it off.

“efficacious,” that is the name of the friend he wants to win for himself, but, alas, this friend is so inclosed [indesluttet].*

—Pap. V B 229:12 n.d., 1844

Addition to Pap. V B 229:12; see 395:13-14:

*if only he might be initiated into the comfort that with God is the secret of the sufferings is this the explanation, that the explanation fails to come

—Pap. V B 229:14 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 395:10-12:

efficacious—yes, that is the name of the friendship he wants to buy for himself, the name of the inclosed [indesluttet] friend who refuses to open himself to him

In margin: the rendezvous

—Pap. V B 230:1 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 396:3-4:

And Christ Became Invisible to Them

. . . . . understood as a higher spiritual qualification in relation to seeing the visible form—in contrast to the mistaken use of the words: Blessed are they who saw what you saw41—which does not hold true in the external sense, because this is paganism, and Judaism is further advanced inasmuch as it did not even allow any likeness of God (because God is invisible, consequently not because the likeness is objectionable, but because there is none, since there is no likeness to or of invisibility).42—Pap. V B 236 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 396:4:

[V B 237 364] An Ascension Discourse

Just as in teaching a child to walk one covertly gets in front of the child and turns toward it—consequently does not walk [V B 237 365] alongside the child but is oneself the goal (how lovely if it is the mother!) toward which the child is to walk alone—so also Christ in his Ascension covertly gets in front, does not walk beside the disciples; he is himself the goal toward which the believer strives while he is learning to walk alone. There he stands at the goal, turns toward the believers, and stretches out his arms just as the mother does. Even though she stands so far away that she cannot reach the child, she stretches out her arms and motions with them as if she already embraced the child, although there is still some distance between them. That much solicitude she has, but more solicitous she cannot be, since then the child does not learn to walk.43—JP II 1835 (Pap. V B 237) n.d., 1844

From draft; see 396:24-32:

but cursed be all the loose talk that comes in the guise of sympathy and yet does not have the power of truth, [*] that offers itself and yet sinks to its knees as soon as the sufferer wants to lean on it for support, that sounds so delightful to the listener but has the repulsiveness of falsehood to the eater, all the deceitful comfort that thinks that the Comforter is coming immediately[**]

[*]In margin: has not learned from sorrow to count

[**]In margin: to be developed: the forty days the disciples had to wait44 (their reflections during those days)—Pap. V B 230:3 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 397:28-30:

Struggles with himself in prayer (not with God), prays to God for help against himself.—Pap. V B 229:5 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 397:30-398:1:

If he still does not give up his inwardness (and as a consequence stop praying), if he loves God greatly, longs for him—indeed, how shall I say it—not as a young man for his beloved, no, as one who in all eternity is nothing without God; if he deals honestly with the debt of thanksgiving that runs on because he cannot rightly understand and consequently cannot give thanks aright, but deals with it honestly as a good entrusted to him for better times.— —Pap. V B 229:13 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 398:34-399:7:

Just as the adult stands behind a child and guides his hand while it is drawing, so that gradually something beautiful and great emerges from the drawing.

—Pap. V B 229:7 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 399:26-30:

What the child wants to be in the external world, what he wants to resemble, whom he wants to resemble—to resemble God.

if someone wants to be something himself, then this something is enough to frustrate the resemblance and to make the mistaken identity impossible. He must himself want to be nothing.

In margin: if it has now come so far with him that he thinks he cannot become anything at all, then the moment is there—Pap. V B 229:16 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 399:27-29:

Himself wanting to be something—Stoicism.

—Pap. V B 229:6 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 400:7-13:

The change

Either he comes to understand himself differently

Or to understand God differently.

—Pap. V B 229:8 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 400:13-16:

The one who prays aright always gives thanks and consequently is always victorious; otherwise why should he always give thanks.

—Pap. V B 229:11 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 400:10-29:

He can always thank God. One forgets this. The debt one incurs at the gambling table, by throwing dice, in a game of cards, is a debt of honor, but not the debt one is in to God for the solicitude of his providence, for the wisdom of his governance.—Pap. V B 229:10 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 400:30-36:

Conclusion

Struggle is not pleasant; usually only one is victorious; sometimes both lose—this struggle is joyful and upbuilding, because they are both victorious.—Pap. V B 229:9 n.d., 1844

From draft; see 400:36-401:8:

Perhaps you are saying, my listener, that this discourse is not easy (one who is being tested may find it poor and bland compared with the sufferings)—the struggle itself is not easy, either, and if someone should brashly want to waltz himself into it and play like a child with the name of the terror, he will know, if he understands it at all, that here it is a matter of a life-and-death struggle, of pain and spiritual trial, and sleeplessness.—Pap. V B 229:15 n.d., 1844

Perhaps my upbuilding discourses could be made even more specific: Upbuilding Discourses for Kings and Queens—for Beggars—etc.— —JP V 5735 (Pap. V A 39) n.d., 1844

Now I am going to write occasional discourses instead of upbuilding discourses, wedding addresses and communion addresses or funeral addresses.45—JP V 5741 (Pap. V A 62) n.d., 1844

The journal46 will be divided as follows:

Praemonenda [Preface]

1. Examinatio [Examination]

How does a new quality emerge through a continuous quantitative determination?47

2. Contemplatio [Contemplation]

de omnibus d.48

3. Exaedificatio [Upbuilding]

concerning the expectancy of faith.49

Miscellanea [Miscellany]

The question to Prof. Martensen50 regarding the Aristotelian doctrine of virtue.

—JP V 5712 (Pap. V A 100) n.d., 1844

Addition to Pap. V A 100:

[V A 101 41] Second Number

1. Examinatio [Examination]

to what extent is being a category—a quality.51

2. Contemplatio [Contemplation]

P. Møller52 poetically diffused.

[V A 101 42] 3. Exaedificatio [Upbuilding]

a.) on the upbuilding in always thanking God.53

b.) on the advantage of studying the sources.54

their significance for the personality.

Miscellanea [Miscellany]

Question to Prof. Heiberg,55 what is poetry.

The hidden (a young girl has said it).

Weisse,56 something similar at the beginning of part one.

—JP V 5713 (Pap. V A 101) n.d., 1844

[VI A 41 16] The Relation between Either/Or and the Stages57

In Either/Or58 the esthetic component was something present battling with the ethical, and the ethical was the choice by which one emerged from it. For this reason there were only two components, and the Judge was unconditionally the winner, even though the book ended with a sermon and with the observation that only the truth that builds up is the truth for me (inwardness—the point of departure for my upbuilding discourses).

In the Stages59 there are three components and the situation is different.

1. The esthetic-sensuous is thrust into the background as something past (therefore “a recollection”), for after all it cannot become utterly nothing.

The Young Man (thought—depression); Constantin Constantius (hardening through the understanding). Victor Eremita, who can no longer be the editor (sympathetic irony); the Fashion Designer (demonic despair); Johannes the Seducer (damnation, a “marked” individual). He concludes by saying that woman is merely a moment. At that very point the Judge [VI A 41 17] begins: Woman’s beauty increases with the years; her reality [Realitet] is precisely in time.60

2. The ethical component is polemical: the Judge61 is not giving a friendly lecture but is grappling in existence, because he cannot end here, even though he can with pathos triumph again over every esthetic stage but not measure up to the esthetes in wittiness.

3. The religious comes into existence in a demonic approximation (Quidam62 of the imaginary construction) with humor as its presupposition and its incognito (Frater Taciturnus).63—JP V 5804 (Pap. VI A 41) n.d., 1845

See journal, p. 158 n., p. 130 [Pap. VI A 1; V A 47]. [VI A 147 60]

1. A little about the contradictions in the upbuilding address.

The relationship to scholarship—which categories may be used.

Here a little about my upbuilding discourses,64 that they were not sermons.65 (Objections have been made to this without bearing in mind that for this reason the title was not put that way—but upbuilding discourses.)

It is of equal merit to be a good speaker and a good listener:

in scholarship as many results as possible, in religious address as few results as possible, just as strong in the immediate as the reflective, and one must above all have existed [existeret] in both.

[VI A 147 61] The one is a work of art; the other a work of scholarship.

Situation: that Hegel in punishment for his attack upon the religious would have to deliver an upbuilding discourse.

—JP I 630 (Pap. VI A 147) n.d., 1845

From draft of Postscript (SV VII 229):

Magister Kierkegaard’s four most recent upbuilding discourses took on a certain humorous touch,66 perhaps as a sign that here what he wanted to achieve was achieved—the humorous is lightly brought about by using immanence and having time wrongly reflect itself in it, so that eternity lies behind. The religious consists in this, that eternity is behind; the essential is this, the humorous consists in this, that time is like a simulated motion.

Seen from my point of view, this is the direct transition to the paradox.

—Pap. VI B 41:7 n.d., 1845

From draft of preface to proposed “Minor Writings”:67

Although by their very difference in both essence and structure* the different parts of this work have a relation to one another that will be able to occupy someone who happens to have the time and talent and wish to think about such things, yet each particular part so lends itself to being read separately for upbuilding that in order to suggest this I have arranged it in such a way that each part can be purchased separately. Something that is supposed to serve for upbuilding must never contain a split, as if there were one kind of upbuilding for the simple and another for the wise. I have perceived, however, the relational unity in such a way that what the simple can understand should covertly contain what can engage the wise and more educated. Consequently, it ought to be present but concealed so that only reflective self-activity itself can generate it again, since to be more educated, more developed, is still something accidental—the upbuilding is essentially the same for all.

*for reflective comparison

—Pap. VII1 B 220 n.d., 1846-47

From draft of The Book on Adler:

Let us now recapitulate and see what Adler has done and [VII2 B 235 72] bear in mind the words of Paul as a motto: “All that is done is done with the aim of upbuilding; whether someone speaks in tongues or prophesies, he does it for upbuilding.”68 These words contain the demand for sober-mindedness and the ethical responsibility, so that no one should chaotically think that it is a person’s, to say nothing of a chosen person’s, task to be like a troll-witch.—Pap. VII2 B 235 n.d., 1846-47

From draft of The Book on Adler:

... in the early summer of 1846, he altogether unexpectedly [VII2 B 235 128] appeared in the Adresseavisen with four new books69 at one time . . .

But primarily the four books must objectively have a deeper [VII2 B 235 129] purpose—for example, if possible, maieutically to cover a specific terrain on all sides at the same time. It must then be important to the author of the four books—for him a half-poetic artistic task—that each book, which essentially in itself is different from the others, be kept characteristically distinct from the others. The author must poetically know how to support the illusion, which consists essentiallly in the special point of departure in the particular book. By way of the announcement, he himself must see to splitting them up, so that the impact of the four books at the same time actually is a product of the reader’s self-activity. Above, all, no one is obliged to know that there are four books at the same time. Therefore, the art connoisseur, if he discovers in a roundabout way that there is one author, still can have a certain enjoyment in entering into the illusion that there are not four books by one author but by four authors. Thus, even in Adresseavisen, the one and the same author does not introduce and offer himself as the author of four books at one and the same same. As a matter of fact, not long ago such a thing was done in Danish literature in a more artistic manner . . ..70—Pap. VII2 B 235 n.d., 1846-47

What is the essentially Christian and the point in the fifth of the “Christian Discourses”71 is specifically that the authority of the Bible is affirmed, that it is not something one has thought out but something commanded, something with authority, the requirement that hardship is the task. Consequently the analogy of the child of whom the parents require something is continually used: in the same way the Bible, God’s Word, commands the elders. In an upbuilding discourse [opbyggelig Tale], I could not so rigorously maintain that the Bible says this.—JP I 207 (Pap. VIII1 A 20) n.d., 1847

The essentially Christian, the point in the sixth discourse,72 is specifically that it does not enter into a development of the temporal and the eternal, that when placed together they must yield the concept “suffering”; instead, the presentation is strictly from the apostolic word. An upbuilding discourse, which functions with the aid of reflection, could never be structured in this way.—Pap. VIII1 A 21 n.d., 1847

[VIII1 A 32 19] N.B.

One suffers only once—but is victorious eternally.73 Insofar as one is victorious, this is also only once. The difference, however, is that the one time of suffering is momentary74 [VIII1 A 32 20] (even though the moment were seventy years)75—but the one time of victory is eternity. The one time of suffering (even though it lasted seventy years) can therefore not be pictured or portrayed in art. On the altar in Vor Frelsers Church there is a work that presents an angel who holds out to Christ the cup of suffering.76 The error is that it lasts too long; a picture always endures for an eternity. It appears interminable; one does not see that the suffering is momentary, as all suffering is according to the concept or in the idea of victory. The victory, however, is eternal; this (insofar as it is not spiritual) can be portrayed, because it endures.

Meanwhile, the first impression of the upbuilding is terrifying77—if people take time to understand it properly, since in this case to suffer once is like being sick once—that is, for a whole lifetime. But the wisdom and the impatience of this world must not demand that one should be able to comfort the sufferer—at least if one is to speak of the essentially Christian, because the comfort of Christianity begins first of all where human impatience would simply despair. This is how deep the essentially Christian is—first of all one must scrupulously try to find the terrifying and then scrupulously once again—then one finds the upbuilding. Alas, as a rule we try scrupulously in neither the first instance nor the second.—JP IV 4594 (Pap. VIII1 A 32) n.d., 1847

Invitation [VIII2 B 188 295]

Gratified to learn that my upbuilding writings, addressed to the single individual, are still read by many individuals, I have considered obliging these my readers, and perhaps gaining more individuals as readers, by publishing such works in the future in smaller sections on a subscription basis.78 The possible advantages are, first, that the books will be read better if they are read in smaller sections; second, that a certain calmness of understanding may enter into the relation between author and reader, so that a beginning need not be made each time; and finally, that the publication can properly take place quietly and unnoticed, avoiding all irrelevant attention.

From July 1 of this year, I plan, then, to publish under the more general title

Upbuilding Reading

a section of six, at most eight, sheets [Ark79] every three months. Lest the fortuitous division of time arbitrarily cause a disturbing interruption and sometimes let the reader wait three months for an installment or the concluding installment, I have in mind rounding out each section lyrically or dialectically as a little entity by itself so that it may be regarded and read as a separate book.

In my opinion, culture by no means makes upbuilding superfluous: it just makes it more and more necessary, not that culture in itself entails this or leads directly to this. But because the cultured person, if he understands himself (and if not, then his culture may well be purely imaginary, which, since a continuation is rarely lacking, fosters new and worse fancies), will become aware that what we call culture leaves a whole side of the soul unsatisfied, without nourishment and care—therefore, aware of this, he will respond to the need whose claims he perceives, and he will make it his concern to see to it that this need for upbuilding will increase equally with his increasing culture. With regard to culture, the need is immediate, [VIII2 B 188 296] the immediate that perhaps not everyone has. With regard to upbuilding, the explicit task is precisely to develop deeper and deeper the need that everyone ought to have. —For the simpler people, however, who also have the advantage neither of the time nor of the circumstances for the cultivation of the spirit, the upbuilding becomes that which cultivates, that which genuinely and nobly cultivates one who nevertheless remains uninitiated into that which cultivates intellectually and esthetically. —Genuine education never makes one grow away from the upbuilding as something one needs less and less, but makes one grow up to the upbuilding as something one needs more and more and of which one needs more and more. Lacking all other culture, a person can be cultivated by the upbuilding; eternally understood, all other culture devoid of the upbuilding is miseducation. Indeed, upbuilding does not want to set at variance any more than love does, even though it always requires two. The upbuilding does not want to consolidate differences between people any more than the ocean wants to separate. Just like love, the upbuilding wants to unite, if possible, the most different in essential truth.

Since this is so, it is my hope and desire that for the sake of the plan and for mine—but certainly also for their own sakes—a good number of individuals will sympathetically participate. If I am granted the strength and energy to keep on, and in that case if there is also continued support from without, it would indeed be a great and encouraging joy for me that there might be in our native land one more recognizable expression that people need upbuilding, that the upbuilding is a necessity of life. This certainly can be recognized by the fact that in the course of a year many upbuilding books are published; but it is even more decisive to have an ongoing periodical for upbuilding reading (especially if many participate)—one among the many for light reading.

S. Kierkegaard.

January 1848

at the end of the year, the common title page, the table of contents, the list of subscribers.—JP V 6095 (Pap. VIII2 B 188) n.d., 1847-48

This is how it is used. The subject of the single individual appears in every book by the pseudonymous writers, but the price put upon being a single individual, a single individual in the eminent sense, rises. The subject of the single individual appears in every one of my upbuilding books, but there the single individual is what every human being is. This is precisely the dialectic of “the single individual” [changed from: the particular]. The single individual can mean the most unique of all and it can mean everyone. Now if one desires to stimulate attention, one will use this category in rapid succession but always in double-stroke. The pride in the one thought incites a few, the humility in the other thought repels others, but the confusion in this doubleness provokes attention, and yet this is the idea of “the single individual.” The pride in the one thought eggs on a few who in that sense of the word could very well desire to be the single individual of the pseudonyms. But then they are repelled in turn by the thought of “the single individual” in the sense of the upbuilding.*

In margin: *That is, the point of departure of the pseudonymous writers is continually in the differences—the point of departure in the upbuilding discourses is in the universally human.—Pap. VIII2 B 192 n.d., 1847-48

[VIII1 A 486 216] Some Discourses to Be Written for Awakening80

Thoughts That Images from Behind81—for Upbuilding. [*]

“Watch your step when you go to the house of the Lord” (Ecclesiastes).82 See one of the earlier journals [Pap. VIII1 A 256].[**]

This will be the introduction.

In the following discourses the text is to be chosen in such a way that it appears to be a Gospel text, and is that also, but then comes the stinger.

No. 1. “What shall we have, we who have left all?” And Christ answers: You will sit on thrones83 etc.

The satire for us in this question—we who have probably not left anything at all.

No. 2. All things serve us for good, if we love God.84 If we love God. (The irony.)

No. 3. There will be the resurrection of the dead, of both the righteous and the unrighteous.85

[VIII1 A 486 217] Rejoice, you are not to ask for three demonstrations86—it is certain enough that you are immortal—it is absolutely certain—because you must come up for judgment.87 This is a new argument for immortality.

No. 4. It is blessed—to be mocked for a good cause.88 (Rejoice when men speak all sorts of evil about you.89)

So rejoice, then—but perhaps there is no one present to whom this discourse applies.90 You, my listener, rejoice perhaps because you are highly honored, esteemed, and regarded. Yes, then indeed for you it is a meal like the stork’s at the fox’s house.91

The satirical.

“Woe to you if everyone speaks well of you.”92 Here is not appended “and lies”; it is not necessary, since if everyone speaks well of a person, it must be a lie.

No. 5. “We are nearer to salvation now than when we became believers.”93 But are you sure you have become a believer.

No. 6. He (Christ) was believed in the world94 (I Timothy 3:16). But this is perhaps merely a bit of historical information.

[*]In margin: “An assault by thoughts”

[**]In margin: Journal NB2, pp. 147-48 [Pap. VIII1 A 256]. Ditto, pp. 242, bottom, and 243, top [Pap. VIII1 A 367].—JP V 6096 (Pap. VIII1 A 486) n.d., 1847

Yes, it had to be this way. I have not become a religious [IX A 216 112] author; I was that: simultaneously with Either/Or appeared two upbuilding discourses95—now after two years of writing only religious books there appears a little article about an actress.96

Now there is a moment, a point of rest; by this step I have learned to know myself and very concretely.

So the publication must proceed (that is, of course I have more, I have finished what is to be used: (1) A Cycle of Ethical-Religious Essays, (2) The Sickness unto Death, (3) Come [IX A 216 113] Here, All You . . . . . ), if I do not happen to die beforehand. My health is very poor, and the thought of dying has gotten the upper hand with me as I use this half year to sorrow for my sins and work further in the presentation of Christianity. Perhaps it is a despondent thought, perhaps also because I have become disinclined to make the finite decisions involved in publication—in any case I have now been prodded by it.

The next publication will be very decisive for my outer life. I always have held on to the remote possibility of seeking a pastoral call97 if the worst comes to worst financially.98 When I publish the last books, this may well be denied me even if I were to seek it, so the problem will not be as before, if I do dare to undertake it, but rather that it will not even be given to me.

This is one more heavy burden added to my inner suffering and outer mistreatment, but no doubt it will be beneficial so that I do not rush on but come to need God more and more. The more God entrusts to me, the more burdens he lays upon me.

So the work goes on, given time, if I do not die before that, carrying the enormous column of reflection as I virtually do every moment—and yet trustful as a child in my inner being. Oh, I can never sufficiently thank God for what he has done and is doing for me, so indescribably much more than I had expected, he who helps one, step by step, if one honestly tells him the situation and then allows oneself to be helped, helps [IX A 216 114] one by taking away the burdens one may not be able to bear, helps one little by little to carry the burdens from which one once shrank. He who loves God is loved forth99 by God in such a way that this is an education. At all times there is a world of help possible, because for God everything is possible: if I have done something wrong, even though I honestly considered it, there is at all times a world of help, because for God everything is possible100—how blessed that he is also love,101 that for the loving one everything is possible, and that he for whom everything is possible is love. And if I stumble, if sin wins a temporary victory over me, oh, at all times for the honest penitent there is a world of help in the Atonement for all our sins102 with him, our Savior and Redeemer.

To be surrounded everywhere by love in this way, oh, who would not feel blessed in the midst of all his sufferings, which no doubt come so that one may not take salvation in vain but also to make one even more blissfully aware of salvation.—JP VI 6229 (Pap. IX A 216) n.d., 1848

[IX A 222 117] But on the other hand, the understanding, reflection, is also a gift of God. What shall one do with it, how dispose of it if one is not to use it? And if one then uses it in fear and trembling not for one’s own advantage but to serve the truth, if one uses it that way in fear and trembling and furthermore believing that it still is God who determines the issue in its eternal significance, venturing in trust in him, and with unconditional obedience yielding to what he makes of it: is this not fear of God and serving God the way a person of reflection can, in a somewhat different way than the spontaneously immediate person, but perhaps more ardently. But if that is the case, does not a maieutic element enter into the relation to other men or to various other men. The maieutic is really only the expression for a superiority between man and man. That it exists cannot be denied—but existence presses far more powerfully upon the superior one precisely because he is a maieutic (because he has the responsibility) than upon the other.

As far as I am concerned, there has been no lack of witness. [IX A 222 118] All my upbuilding discourses are in fact in the form of direct communication.

Consequently there can be a question only about this, something that has occupied me for a long time (already back in earlier journals103): should I for once definitely explain myself as author, what I declare myself to be, how I from the beginning understand myself to be a religious author.

But now is not the time to do it; I am also somewhat strained at the moment. I need more physical recreation.—JP VI 6234 (Pap. IX A 222) n.d., 1848

N.B. N.B. [IX A 227 124]

Yes, it was a good thing to publish that little article.104 I began with Either/Or and two upbuilding discourses;105 now it ends, after the whole upbuilding series—with a little esthetic essay. It expresses: that it was the upbuilding—the religious—that should advance, and that now the esthetic has been traversed; they are inversely related, or it is something of an inverse confrontation, to show that the writer was not an esthetic author who in the course of time grew older and for that reason became religious.

But it is not really to my credit; it is Governance who has held me in rein with the help of an extreme depression and a troubled conscience.

But there still would have been something lacking if the little article had not come out; the illusion would have been established that it was I who essentially had changed over the years, and then a very important point in the whole productivity would have been lost.

It is true I have been educated by this writing, have developed more and more religiously—but in a decisive way I had experienced the pressures that turned me away from the world before I began writing Either/Or. Even then my only wish was to do, as decisively as possible, something good to compensate, if possible in another way, for what I personally had [IX A 227 125] committed. That I have developed more and more religiously is seen in my now saying goodbye to the esthetic, because I do not know where I would find the time that I could, would, or would dare fill up with work on esthetic writings.

My energies, that is, my physical energies, are declining; the state of my health varies terribly. I hardly see my way even to publishing the essentially decisive works I have ready (“A Cycle of Essays,” “The Sickness unto Death,” “Come Here, All You Who Labor and Are Burdened,” “Blessed Is He Who Is Not Offended”106). It is my judgment that here I am allowed to present Christianity once again and in such a way that a whole development can be based on it. The emphasis upon the situation of contemporaneity, that Christ’s life is infinitely more important than the result; the unrecognizability or the incognito in relation to the God-man; the impossibility of direct communication etc.—in my opinion all the essays contain such a wealth of ideas that again and again I cannot praise God enough for having granted me so infinitely much more than I had expected. And, moreover, I am convinced that it will serve for the inward deepening of Christianity—it has been taken in vain, made too mild, so that people have forgotten what grace is; the more rigorous it is, the more grace becomes manifest as grace and not a sort of human sympathy.

Just one wish for this endeavor of mine if I happen to be separated from it. I live in the faith that God will place the accent of Governance on the life of an extremely unhappy, humanly understood, man who nevertheless by the help of God has felt indescribably blessed—but my wish is that now R. Nielsen107 might be relied on. The same cause that has cost me my health and an enormous strain, the same cause that as long as I live occasions only insults and humiliation because in so many ways I am the object of envy, the same cause, as soon as I am dead, will be a triumphant cause!—if only he does not sell too cheap.

So I turn to the other side,108 forgetting all these many [IX A 227 126] thoughts, mindful only of my sins and entrusting myself to the Atonement of Jesus Christ.—JP VI 6238 (Pap. IX A 227) n.d., 1848

N.B. N.B. [IX A 241 135]

Strange, strange about that little article109—that I had so nearly gone and forgotten myself. When one is overstrained as I was, it is easy to forget momentarily the dialectical outline of a colossal structure such as my authorship. That is why Governance helped me.

Right now the totality is so dialectically right. Either/Or and the two upbuilding discourses*110—Concluding Postscript—for two years only upbuilding discourses and then a little article about an actress. The illusion that I happened to get older and for that reason became a decisively religious author has been made impossible. If I had died beforehand, then the writing I did those two years would have been made ambiguous and the totality unsteady.

In a certain sense, of course, my concern is superfluous when I consider the world of actuality in which I live—since as a matter of fact I have not found many dialecticians.

In margin: *Note. And these two discourses quite properly [IX A 241 136] did not appear at the same time as Either/Or but a few months later—just as this little article now.—JP VI 6242 (Pap. IX A 241) n.d., 1848

[IX A 421 245] “Let not the heart in sorrow sin”111

Under this title I would like to write a few discourses112 [IX A 421 246] dealing with the most beautiful and noble, humanly speaking, forms of despair: unhappy love, grief over the death of a beloved, sorrow at not having achieved one’s proper place in the world, the forms the “poet” loves and that only Christianity dares to call sin, while the human attitude is that the lives of such people are infinitely more worthwhile than the millions that make up the prosy-pack.—JP VI 6277 (Pap. IX A 421) n.d., 1848

[X1 A 510 329] . . . The Sickness unto Death appears at this time, but pseudonymously and with me as editor. It is said to be “for upbuilding.” This is more than my category, the poet-category: upbuilding.113

Just as the Guadalquibir [sic] River (this occurred to me earlier and is somewhere in the journal114 [Pap. X1 A 422]) at some place plunges underground, so is there also a stretch, the upbuilding, that carries my name. There is something (the esthetic) that is lower and is pseudonymous and something that is higher and is also pseudonymous, because as a person I do not correspond to it.

The pseudonym is Johannes Anticlimacus [sic] in contrast to Climacus, who said he was not a Christian. Anticlimacus is the opposite extreme: a Christian on an extraordinary level—if only I myself manage to be just a simple Christian.

“Practice in Christianity” can be published in the same way, but there is no hurry.

But nothing about my personality as a writer; it is false to want to anticipate during one’s lifetime—this merely converts a person into the interesting.

[X1 A 510 330] On the whole, I must now venture in quite different directions. I must dare to believe that through Christ I can be saved from the power of depression in which I have lived; and I must dare to try to be more economical.—JP VI 6431 (Pap. X1 A 510) n.d., 1849

[In margin: About The Sickness unto Death.]

The book is characterized as being “for upbuilding”;115 the preface speaks of it as upbuilding.116 It really should say: for awakening, [In margin: see p. 259 in this journal (Pap. X1 A 529)] This is its basic character, and this is the forward step in the writings. Essentially it is also for awakening, but this does not need to be said yet. This will come out decisively for the first time in the next book, “Practice in Christianity.”—JP VI 6436 (Pap. X1 A 520) n.d., 1849

The two works by Anti-Climacus117 (“Practice in Christianity”) can be published immediately.

With this the writing stops;118 essentially it has already stopped (that which is wholly mine) with “The Friday Discourses.”119 The pseudonymous writer120 at the end is a higher level, which I can only suggest. The second-round pseudonymity is precisely the expression for the halt. Qua author I am like the river Guadalquibir [sic], which at some place plunges underground; there is a stretch that is mine: the upbuilding;121 behind and ahead lie the lower and the higher pseudonymities: the upbuilding is mine, not the esthetic, nor that for upbuilding, and even less that for awakening.122—JP VI 6461 (Pap. X1 A 593) n.d., 1849

[In margin: Peter’s remarks at the convention.] [X2 A 273 201]

Peter’s Remarks at the Convention.123

After all, there is some confusion-compounding to take a passage from Paul and then exhibit Martensen124 and me as the two positions.125 If Martensen is to be compared to Paul, then Paul (and also his σωφϱοσύνη [soundness of mind, self-control]) becomes ecstasy pure and simple. The Martensenian-Petrian concept of composure is a partially irreligious concept of mediocrity and indolent comfortableness.

Moreover, Peter should also have pointed out that it is especially difficult these days to represent ecstasy. Mediocrity, [X2 A 273 202] worldly haggling, etc. are preponderant. It should also be pointed out that my ecstasy is characterized by an equally great composure. The very fact that I use pseudonyms, invented characters (consequently not myself) to represent the ecstatic, while in the upbuilding discourses I myself speak gently and quietly. The difference between the category of the single individual as it is used by the pseudonyms and as I use it etc.

But what does Peter care about all this. He self-complacently expounds mediocrity (and of course to the jubilation of the rural clergy): that there are two trends (that is, the achievers)—and they are one-sided; but we, who achieve nothing, we are of the truth, and we are also the majority. Just believe me, I know; should I not know it—after all, I am eight years older than my brother.—JP VI 6553 (Pap. X2 A 273) n.d., 1849

[X2 A 560 402] Reduplication

Every striving that does not apply one-fourth, one-third, two-thirds, etc. of its power to working against itself systematically is essentially secular striving, in any case unconditionally not a reforming effort.

Reduplication means to work also against oneself while working; it is like the pressure on the plow-handles, which determines the depth of the furrow—whereas a striving that while working does not work also against itself is merely a superficial smoothing over.

What does it mean to work against oneself? It is quite simple. If the established, the traditional, etc., in the context of which a beginning is to be made, is sound, thoroughly sound—well, then apply directly what is to be applied; in any case there can be no talk or thought of reforming, because if the established is sound, then there is nothing, after all, to reform.

To the same degree, however, that the established, consequently there where one’s striving begins, is corrupt, to the same degree the dialectical begins: to work against oneself becomes more and more necessary, so that the new, by being applied directly, is not itself corrupted, does not at once succeed [X2 A 560 403] etc., and thus is not maintained in its heterogeneity.

Again the difference is between the direct and the inverted, which is the dialectical. Working or striving directly is to work and strive. The inverted method is this: while working also to work against oneself.

But who dreams that such a standard exists, and that I use it on such a large scale! Understood I will never be. People think I am involved in a direct striving—and now they believe that I have achieved a kind of breakthrough! Oh, such ignorance! The publication of Either/Or was a huge success; I had it in my power to continue. After all, what is the origin of all the problems in my striving; I wonder if it is not in myself? It is public knowledge that not one single person has really dared to oppose me. But I have done that myself. What a wrong turn on my part, if my striving was to be direct, to publish Two Upbuilding Discourses after Either/Or, which could only have a disturbing effect, instead of letting Either/Or stand with its glittering success, continuing in the direction that the age demanded, only in slightly reduced portions. What a counter effort by myself that I, the public’s darling, introduce the single individual, and finally, that I plunge myself into all the dangers of insults!

But such things can be understood only by someone who himself has risked something essentially similar. Someone else cannot conceive it or believe it.

R. Nielsen126 is actually confused about this, for he interprets my striving as direct striving.—JP VI 6593 (Pap. X2 A 560) n.d., 1850

A Possible Preface to the Upbuilding Discourse “The [X5 B 117 312] Woman Who Was a Sinner.”

If neither “The Accounting” nor Two Discourses at the Communion on Fridays is published but only the upbuilding discourse, which is to be dedicated to my father, the following preface could perhaps be used.127

[X5 B 117 313] Preface

What was first said in my first book of upbuilding discourses, in the Preface to Two Upbuilding Discourses in 1843, that this book “seeks that single individual [hiin Enkelte]”; what was repeated verbatim in the Preface to each new collection of upbuilding discourses; what was pointed out, after I had exposed myself to the laughter and the insults of the crowd and thus, as well as I could, contributed to evoking awareness by dedicating the next large work, Upbuilding Discourses in Various Spirits, 1847, to “the single individual [den Enkelte]”; what the world revolution in 1848 certainly did not witness against or render untrue—emphasis upon the single individual—let me repeatedly remind [readers] of this. [In margin: If for the sake of recollection it is possible for a thinker to manage to concentrate all his thinking in one single idea, this has been granted to me, the upbuilding author, whose entire thinking is essentially contained in this one thought: the single individual.]

“The single individual”—of course, the single individual religiously understood, consequently understood in such a way that everyone, unconditionally everyone, yes, unconditionally everyone, just as much as everyone has or should have a conscience, can be this [denne] single individual and should be that, can stake his honor in willing to be that, but then also can find blessedness in being what is the expression for true fear of God, true love to one’s neighbor, true humanity [Menneskelighed], and true human equality [Menneske-Lighed]. Oh, if only some might achieve it, if it is not, although the task for all, nevertheless too high for all of us, yet not too high in such a way that it should be forgotten, forgotten as if it were not the task or as if this task did not exist [deleted: in November 1850], so that we may at least learn to forsake not only the mediocre but also the indifferent half measures that reject an established order, yet without driving through to become in an extraordinary sense the single individual, but rather schismatically organize parties and sects, which are neither the one nor the other.

November 1850

—JP II 2033 (Pap. X5 B 117)

From draft of “The Accounting,” in On My Work:

. . . The directly religious was present from the beginning; [X5 B 191 377] for Two Upbuilding Discourses of 1843 are, after all, concurrent with Either/Or . . . .128—Pap. X5 B 191, May [changed to: April; changed to: March] 5, 1849

From draft of “The Accounting,” in On My Work:129

. . . The movement it [the authorship] describes is: from [X5 B 201 382] “the poet,” from the esthetic—from the philosopher, from the speculative—to the intimation of the most inward interpretation of the essentially Christian; from the pseudonymous Either/Or, which was immediately accompanied by Two Upbuilding Discourses with my name as author, through Concluding Postscript with my name as editor, to Discourses at the Communion on Fridays [here a double dagger in red crayon, in margin a double dagger and: see the attached], the latest work I have written, and “of which two have been delivered in Frue Kirke.” . . .130—Pap. X5 B 201 n.d., 1849

From draft of “The Accounting,” in On My Work:

Yet I owe it to the truth to admit that in the beginning it was [X5 B 217 404] by no means my thought to become a religious author in the sense I have become that; on the contrary, it was truly my intention in the beginning to become a rural pastor the moment I laid down my pen. I profoundly understood that I belonged to the religious, that it was a deception on my part, albeit a pious deception, to pass myself off as an esthetic author, and I sought an energetic expression for my belonging in the strictest sense to the religious and thought to find this in leaping away from being an esthetic author—and at once becoming a rural pastor. My first thought was to stop with Either/Or—and then at once a rural pastor. It did not happen; but since it did not happen, there was promptly a religious [X5 B 217 405] signaling (Two Upbuilding Discourses). . . . My thought was to deceive by becoming an esthetic author and then promptly to become a rural pastor, accentuating the religious doubly strongly by the contrast. Something else happened: the religious found its expression in my becoming a religious author, but consequently a religious author who began with an esthetic productivity as a deception. The point was that the religious found its expression unconditionally at the same time the esthetic deception was initiated—otherwise there would have been a show of justification in saying that originally I was not conscious that the esthetic productivity was a deception and that the explanation would be that in the beginning I [X5 B 217 406] wanted to be an esthetic author and then later changed. But the presence of the religious at exactly the same time found its expression not as I had thought, by my becoming a rural pastor, but by the publication of Two Upbuilding Discourses.—Pap. X5 B 217 n.d., 1849

From draft of reply to a pamphlet on Kierkegaard’s writings:131

[X6 B 145 217] . . . Let us look at this a little more closely. I certainly do think that my presentation or illumination of the essentially Christian comes some points closer to the truth than the proclamation of Christianity hereabouts ordinarily does—but I am only a poet. If he so wishes, “the pastor” can make capital of this; he can say: To be a pastor is something far higher; a poet, and Magister Kierkegaard is right here, is inadequate when it comes to the essentially Christian, and Mag. K. is only a poet—oddly enough, says so himself. But I have not said that. I have not said that I, measured against “the pastor,” that is, every pastor as such, am only a poet, but measured against the ideal, I am only a poet. For example, in order to jack up the price of preaching, in the preface to my “Upbuilding Discourses,”132 I have continually repeated that they are not sermons or have pointed to “the sermon” as something higher. [X6 B 145 218] If he so wishes, “the pastor” may make capital of this. He can sermonize or hold forth like this: A pastor preaches; that is far higher. But in a way it may be good to have Magister Kierkegaard with us, since he illuminates what we pastors do. His upbuilding discourse is not poor work, but, as he himself says, it still is not a sermon. There, my little children, you see what we pastors do and the truth of what you read as little children in the verse: “Who can do it best? Our pastor can do it best.”133 But I have not said that, I have not said that I, measured against “the pastor,” that is, every pastor as such, cannot preach; I have said that, measured against the ideal, my upbuilding discourse is still not a sermon. I have also said “that before God I regard my whole work as an author as my own education”;134 I am not a teacher but a learner. Every teacher of religion, every music teacher, every gymnastics coach, every part-time teacher may make capital of this if he wishes and say: There you see what it is to be a teacher if Magister Kierkegaard, who is for all that a gifted person, is only a learner, as he himself says. But I have not said that I, measured against every part-time teacher, could not be called a teacher, but that before God, measured against the ideals for being a teacher, I call myself a learner. . . . —JP VI 6786 (Pap. X6 B 145) n.d., 1851

↑ Back to top

↑