"I've described the Incarnation as 'the ontological bridge,' the path created being must cross" to be saved.
It would be instructive to know whether Kierkegaard's position on the Incarnation fits or contradicts your understanding of the "bridge" metaphor. Kierkegaard would have insisted that human understanding cannot understand the metaphor, as the Incarnation is an absolute Paradox. And, "Everyone who understands the Paradox differently may keep the honor of having explained it, which honor he won by not being content to understand it."
What we can understand is our need for a bridge that precisely fits what the Cross offers. This blog and several of your books have done a wonderful job of detailing that fit. Kierkegaard's status as the first existentialist philosopher is a product of his theological project being to detail our existential predicament, and his metaphor for that project was a dance in which his "partner [was] the thought of Death."
Persons who have not read your blog for almost 18 years (or read Kierkegaard, or Becker, etc.) will not understand how rich that metaphor is on the one hand, or how precisely the Cross corresponds to our existential situation on the other.
What I want to ask is whether you are a Platonist in your approach to theology, which is to say, do you agree with Kierkegaard's view that our lives are occasions to learn that we are in "Error" relative to our existential predicament.
I do share the paradox of Kierkegaard's learned fideism as an approach to theology, and for a crucial reason. Our existential predicament defines the Cross as our salvation, but it cannot save us unless it transcends our predicament.
So, just wondering whether you think "Reason" can do more.
(Quotes from David F. Swenson's 1936 translation of Philosophical Fragments.)
I do think the Incarnation isn't something we can understand. I wrote about that recently in my series on mystery. There is an apophatic aspect to the hypostatic union that is simply impenetrable. And that impenetrability could, from a particular perspective, be described as a paradox.
Regarding the ontological bridge, what I'm trying to say is that salvation is more than "stop sinning" (or, in my last line, reducing salvation to ethics) for the very simple reason that we still die. Good people still die. Goodness doesn't do anything about dying. Consequently, salvation has to address death (our ontological contingency and finitude) as well. And in the Christian imagination, what the Incarnation (along with the Resurrection) accomplishes isn't just moral, but ontological. That is, salvation addresses the predicament of death.
So, circling back to Kierkegaard. Existential philosophy can't save us from death. Nor can a rich metaphor save us from death. Nor can paradoxes save us from death. Nor can understanding our existential predicament (or failing to understand our predicament) save us from death. Nothing on our side of the equation can save us from death. Only something ontological--something real and existent beyond ourselves--can save us from death. And that's all I'm describing in this post, that good people still die.
The poem "The Weight of Loss" delves into the themes of creation, transgression, and redemption, exploring the intricate relationship between humanity and divine promise. Each stanza presents a philosophical reflection on the struggles of existence, the permanence of loss, and the hopeful thread of grace that weaves through even the darkest moments.
In the first stanza, the imagery of "fading light" speaks to the gradual loss of reason and understanding. The "whisper of the Word" hints at the divine presence felt in moments of despair, suggesting that the essence of creation is burdened yet still intertwined with the soul.
The second stanza introduces the "law of death" as an oppressive force, illustrating how mortality weighs upon humanity. The "fragile thread" metaphor evokes feelings of vulnerability, emphasizing the cost of creation and how loss resonates in every heartbeat.
The third stanza raises the question of who will restore what has been lost. "The echo of a promise fades" reflects the diminishing connection to the divine, while "whispers" signifies the subtle presence of forgotten hope amid despair.
In the fourth stanza, the conflict between divine authority and human free will is explored. The idea of God demanding a change of heart posits a complex relationship between repentance and divine expectations, highlighting the struggle to reclaim a sense of identity and purpose.
The fifth stanza speaks to the uncontrollable nature of sin and its consequences. The metaphor of an "unwound tapestry" represents the disarray caused by transgression, raising questions about redemption and the possibility of rebirth amidst chaos and suffering.
In the sixth stanza, the concept of grace as guidance is introduced. The “gift of grace” symbolizes the hope offered to those who feel lost. The stanza emphasizes the challenge faced by individuals who strive for connection yet struggle against internal and external darkness.
The seventh stanza deepens the earlier questions about the nature of love and grace. The struggle to find redemption amid despair highlights the tension between yearning for restoration and the realities of degradation and loss.
The eighth stanza shifts to a more uplifting note, affirming that deep within the night’s silence lies a flicker of hope. The "truth emerges" suggests that realization and understanding arise even in moments of profound darkness, nurturing the potential for transformation.
The ninth stanza points toward the incarnation of the Word, drawing on themes of healing and unity. Here, the "balm for wounds" imagery evokes the transformative power of divine love, suggesting that restoration can occur despite past transgressions.
In the final stanza, the overall message culminates in a reassuring proclamation. The affirmation that dawn will "pierce the pall of gloom" instills hope for new beginnings, revealing how loss can ultimately pave the way toward inner peace and renewal.
Overall, "The Weight of Loss" intertwines existential introspection with profound theological inquiries, weaving a narrative that illuminates the struggles of humanity while simultaneously pointing towards the redemptive potential embedded in faith and grace.
Thank you, Dr. Beck for this powerfully profound theology you have brought forth! Father Athanasius is an awesome fount of theological treasure, most notably in the neglected area of metaphysical theology. American evangelicals tend to be very ignorant of theology outside of hamartiology. Sadly, we can feign ignorance of what sin and repentance entails when convenient; i.e. when giving enthusiastic support to an unrepentant sinner like Trump.
"I've described the Incarnation as 'the ontological bridge,' the path created being must cross" to be saved.
It would be instructive to know whether Kierkegaard's position on the Incarnation fits or contradicts your understanding of the "bridge" metaphor. Kierkegaard would have insisted that human understanding cannot understand the metaphor, as the Incarnation is an absolute Paradox. And, "Everyone who understands the Paradox differently may keep the honor of having explained it, which honor he won by not being content to understand it."
What we can understand is our need for a bridge that precisely fits what the Cross offers. This blog and several of your books have done a wonderful job of detailing that fit. Kierkegaard's status as the first existentialist philosopher is a product of his theological project being to detail our existential predicament, and his metaphor for that project was a dance in which his "partner [was] the thought of Death."
Persons who have not read your blog for almost 18 years (or read Kierkegaard, or Becker, etc.) will not understand how rich that metaphor is on the one hand, or how precisely the Cross corresponds to our existential situation on the other.
What I want to ask is whether you are a Platonist in your approach to theology, which is to say, do you agree with Kierkegaard's view that our lives are occasions to learn that we are in "Error" relative to our existential predicament.
I do share the paradox of Kierkegaard's learned fideism as an approach to theology, and for a crucial reason. Our existential predicament defines the Cross as our salvation, but it cannot save us unless it transcends our predicament.
So, just wondering whether you think "Reason" can do more.
(Quotes from David F. Swenson's 1936 translation of Philosophical Fragments.)
I do think the Incarnation isn't something we can understand. I wrote about that recently in my series on mystery. There is an apophatic aspect to the hypostatic union that is simply impenetrable. And that impenetrability could, from a particular perspective, be described as a paradox.
Regarding the ontological bridge, what I'm trying to say is that salvation is more than "stop sinning" (or, in my last line, reducing salvation to ethics) for the very simple reason that we still die. Good people still die. Goodness doesn't do anything about dying. Consequently, salvation has to address death (our ontological contingency and finitude) as well. And in the Christian imagination, what the Incarnation (along with the Resurrection) accomplishes isn't just moral, but ontological. That is, salvation addresses the predicament of death.
So, circling back to Kierkegaard. Existential philosophy can't save us from death. Nor can a rich metaphor save us from death. Nor can paradoxes save us from death. Nor can understanding our existential predicament (or failing to understand our predicament) save us from death. Nothing on our side of the equation can save us from death. Only something ontological--something real and existent beyond ourselves--can save us from death. And that's all I'm describing in this post, that good people still die.
Title: The Weight of Loss
Yvon Roustan ©
In the shadow of a fading light,
Where once was reason, now takes flight,
A whisper of the Word, once whole,
Hangs heavy with the weight of the soul.
The law of death, a shroud that binds,
With every breath, the darkness finds.
A fragile thread, creation’s cost,
In every heartbeat, something lost.
What hand will reach through time’s cruel tide,
To lift the veil where sorrow hides?
The echo of a promise fades,
As memories, like whispers, wade.
Shall God demand a change of heart,
To mend the world that's torn apart?
But can the clay restore its form,
When deep within, the shadows swarm?
For every sin, a thread unwound,
A tapestry of grief unbound.
Is there a way to break the chain,
To rise anew, to heal the pain?
The gift of grace, a light bestowed,
To guide the wanderer on the road.
But what of those who drift and sway,
Lost in the darkness, far away?
In every heart, the question stirs,
What price for love, what grace endures?
Was it enough to merely plead,
When hope lies buried in the seed?
Yet in the silence, faint and clear,
A truth emerges, drawing near.
For in the depths of deepest night,
There burns a flame that sparks the light.
The incorporeal Word descends,
A balm for wounds that never mend.
Through flesh and spirit, intertwined,
A whispered promise, love defined.
Then fear not, though shadows may loom,
For the dawn shall pierce the pall of gloom.
From ashes rise, let grief release,
In loss, we find our path to peace.
*************^*******************
Explanation:
The poem "The Weight of Loss" delves into the themes of creation, transgression, and redemption, exploring the intricate relationship between humanity and divine promise. Each stanza presents a philosophical reflection on the struggles of existence, the permanence of loss, and the hopeful thread of grace that weaves through even the darkest moments.
In the first stanza, the imagery of "fading light" speaks to the gradual loss of reason and understanding. The "whisper of the Word" hints at the divine presence felt in moments of despair, suggesting that the essence of creation is burdened yet still intertwined with the soul.
The second stanza introduces the "law of death" as an oppressive force, illustrating how mortality weighs upon humanity. The "fragile thread" metaphor evokes feelings of vulnerability, emphasizing the cost of creation and how loss resonates in every heartbeat.
The third stanza raises the question of who will restore what has been lost. "The echo of a promise fades" reflects the diminishing connection to the divine, while "whispers" signifies the subtle presence of forgotten hope amid despair.
In the fourth stanza, the conflict between divine authority and human free will is explored. The idea of God demanding a change of heart posits a complex relationship between repentance and divine expectations, highlighting the struggle to reclaim a sense of identity and purpose.
The fifth stanza speaks to the uncontrollable nature of sin and its consequences. The metaphor of an "unwound tapestry" represents the disarray caused by transgression, raising questions about redemption and the possibility of rebirth amidst chaos and suffering.
In the sixth stanza, the concept of grace as guidance is introduced. The “gift of grace” symbolizes the hope offered to those who feel lost. The stanza emphasizes the challenge faced by individuals who strive for connection yet struggle against internal and external darkness.
The seventh stanza deepens the earlier questions about the nature of love and grace. The struggle to find redemption amid despair highlights the tension between yearning for restoration and the realities of degradation and loss.
The eighth stanza shifts to a more uplifting note, affirming that deep within the night’s silence lies a flicker of hope. The "truth emerges" suggests that realization and understanding arise even in moments of profound darkness, nurturing the potential for transformation.
The ninth stanza points toward the incarnation of the Word, drawing on themes of healing and unity. Here, the "balm for wounds" imagery evokes the transformative power of divine love, suggesting that restoration can occur despite past transgressions.
In the final stanza, the overall message culminates in a reassuring proclamation. The affirmation that dawn will "pierce the pall of gloom" instills hope for new beginnings, revealing how loss can ultimately pave the way toward inner peace and renewal.
Overall, "The Weight of Loss" intertwines existential introspection with profound theological inquiries, weaving a narrative that illuminates the struggles of humanity while simultaneously pointing towards the redemptive potential embedded in faith and grace.
Thank you, Dr. Beck for this powerfully profound theology you have brought forth! Father Athanasius is an awesome fount of theological treasure, most notably in the neglected area of metaphysical theology. American evangelicals tend to be very ignorant of theology outside of hamartiology. Sadly, we can feign ignorance of what sin and repentance entails when convenient; i.e. when giving enthusiastic support to an unrepentant sinner like Trump.