Kierkegaard on Preaching

The following excerpts are taken from Training in Christianity by Søren Kierkegaard.

- - - - - - - - - -

In Christendom they preach perpetually about what happened then after Christ’s death, how He triumphed, and how His disciples made a triumphal conquest of the whole world – in short, one hears only sermons which might properly end with Hurrah! rather than with Amen. No, Christ’s life here upon earth is the paradigm; it is in likeness to it that I along with every Christian must strive to construct my life; and this is the essential object of the sermon, this is the end it should serve, to keep me alert when I would become slack, and to strengthen me when I would become disheartened.

- - - - - - - - - -

I have never heard any discourse or sermon about which, if before God the question was put to me, I could dare to say unconditionally that it was Christian – for even the most Christian sermons I have heard had ever about them a suspicious admixture of reasons, a smack of human whimper and compassion, a dissonant note of ingratiation.

- - - - - - - - - -

Hence it is a venturesome thing to preach; for when I mount to that sacred place [the pulpit] – whether the church be crowded or as good as empty – I have, though I myself may not be aware of it, one hearer in addition to those that are visible to me, namely, God in heaven, whom I cannot see it is true, but who verily can see me. This hearer listens attentively to discover whether what I say is true, and He looks also to discern (as well He can, for He is invisible, and in that way it is impossible to be on one’s guard against Him) – so He looks to see whether my life expresses what I say. And although I possess no authority to impose an obligation upon any other person, yet what I have said in the course of the sermon puts me under obligation – and God has heard it. Verily, it is a venturesome thing to preach! … "That he be true" – this means that he himself is what he preaches, or at least strives to be that, or at the very least is sober enough to admit that he is not. Alas, and how many who in mounting to this sacred place to preach Christianity are keen enough of hearing to detect the repugnance and scorn which this sacred place feels for him at hearing him preach with enthusiasm, in moving tones, with tears, the opposite of that which his life expresses.

The Cosmological Argument Toward Christianity

[Some of this is a bit over my head, but I'm giving it a try.]

Today’s scientific consensus is that our universe began 13.7 billion years ago with the Big Bang, has been expanding ever since, and will never contract. Our universe is not infinite, eternal, static, or cyclical. This linear cosmology loudly demands an explanation. The universe exploded into existence; all indications are that something must have caused this. The universe does not give us any reason to believe it is somehow uncaused or self-caused, but instead professes the opposite. This is the extent of scientific fact.

Beyond hard facts, there are cosmological theories which try to explain our universe’s origin naturalistically. These naturalistic theories attempt to mitigate the apparent need for a cause by placing our universe in a larger whole, such as a cyclical pattern of big bang and big crunch, or a larger multiverse. These speculations can go to extravagant lengths, such as taking string theory, which is already purely theoretical, and then extrapolating to an eleven-dimensional ultimate reality which routinely creates universes.

Cosmological theories like these have two major limitations. First, they are positively unverifiable, since scientific fact reaches no further than the Big Bang. These theories are absolutely not on par with linear Big Bang cosmology. In one sense, they are comparable to theistic cosmology: they explain observable scientific fact by positing something beyond it which is not observable. In another sense, though, they are actually inferior to theistic cosmology, because the two have different epistemological foundations. While neither theistic cosmology nor any of these naturalistic theories is scientifically proven, theistic cosmology does not stand exclusively on science – it stands partly on supposed divine revelation. Speculative naturalistic cosmologies can claim no comparable witness; they are raw guesses, however educated they might be. In other words, the greatest aim of these naturalistic theories is to show that such things are possible – but there is nothing in science or elsewhere saying that such things are actually the case.

The second major limitation of speculative naturalistic cosmologies is that even if true, they would only push the question of cause or origin back – they absolutely do not answer it. This will be seen clearly as we progress to more philosophical formulations of the cosmological argument.

Let us consider two of Aquinas’s Five Ways – the unmoved mover, and the first cause. These point out, with reference to the causation of movement and to causation in general, that an infinite regression of causation is impossible. This both elucidates the necessity of a cause for our universe, and lays bare the inadequacy of speculative naturalistic models for this cause. Causation as we know it cannot extend back forever; there must be a first cause (1) which is not itself subject to causation as we know it. This exemption from causation makes this first cause very, very different from all physical things we know.

The cosmological argument is most distilled, and perhaps most forceful, in the classic question “Why is there something rather than nothing?” Consider how this question applies to the Big Bang. Even if it is somehow granted that such an explosion could spontaneously occur without a cause, the question remains: Why was there something there to explode? Moreover, why were there conditions (physical laws, the potential of space, etc.) to enable an explosion? Or consider how the question applies to speculative naturalistic cosmologies. Grant the spectacular eleven-dimensional reality, and the astounding claim that universes naturally pop into existence. The question would still remain: Why is there an eleven-dimensional universe-generator? Why are there eleven dimensions, and strings, and the action principle according to which these strings move? Our question is why there is something rather than nothing. The only way to answer this question is with something which is somehow the reason for its own existence. And this thing would be very, very different from all physical things we know.

We cannot discover this very, very different thing scientifically, for it is “supernatural”: it is outside, in some sense, of the nature which science studies, being very different from it. This scientific limitation is therefore not only in current practice, but also in principle. This leaves us in a position of uncertainty which we can never escape via science. Holding to naturalism is its own leap, its own choice, its own guess – in many ways comparable to holding to a theistic view. But where theistic cosmology is internally consistent, naturalism has a gaping hole, and speculative attempts to fill it naturalistically only accentuate its existence: there must be something very, very different from all physical things we know. The laws of our universe necessitate something outside of themselves; our universe asks questions which it cannot answer. If there is to be any answer, it must come from elsewhere.

- - - - - - - - - -

(1) It has been rightly pointed out that this does not prove that all events share the same first cause. In other words, as far as this argument goes, there could be multiple first causes which were independent of one another. For the sake of conciseness I do not repeatedly add this qualification throughout the argument, but I do grant it, and I do not say anything which depends upon the first cause being singular. Another qualification which must be made is that this argument does nothing to prove the continued existence of the first cause. So while again choosing not to repeat this qualification, I grant that this is only an argument that there must be, or have been, a first cause.

Bad Evangelism

The New Testament's picture of salvation is very complex. There are the familiar points that we are sinful, Christ died for our sins, and we must believe in Christ. These things are absolutely true and absolutely central – but they are not the only three things the New Testament says. There are considerations of what constitutes true faith (1), what indicates a genuine conversion (2), the security of our relationship with God (3), what it means to follow Christ (4), and the place of evangelism within the Christian life as a whole (5) – among others. When we only consider a few of the many aspects of salvation, we create a caricature of the truth – as we do in much of our evangelism. And this can be very misleading, if not simply wrong.

One problem with our evangelism is our focus. We’re supposed to be calling people to repentance and faith. We’re supposed to be calling people to follow Christ. We’re supposed to be calling people to an entire life of discipleship and obedience – of loving and being loved by God. This may well begin with a very clear moment of decision – but we are not supposed to be calling people to that moment. We are calling to a whole life, not to a moment. A conversion is a conversion to Christianity; a decision is a decision to follow Christ. Inasmuch as we overemphasize the moment of decision, or give it an air of accomplishment, finality, or sacramentality, we are going astray. We must be clear with ourselves and with our hearers that we are calling them to an entire life, not to a moment.

Similarly, our invitations to a ritual at the end of sermons – praying a set prayer, coming forward, raising one’s hand, performing some symbolic action, etc. – are very misleading. The message is the invitation. Almost any sermon covers a plain command – at least if the sermon has anything to do with the Bible. But then at the end of the message, we often “give a chance to respond” with some ritual. Is that not quite odd? The chance to respond is to believe and obey! And the chance to respond is not primarily in the moment, but when people go home to families, roommates, and neighbors; or head to work and class the next morning; or walk past their next beggar; or spend their next paycheck; or decide what to do with their next weekend. Prayer is obviously a huge part of our response to God, but it is not our primary response to His commands – obedience is. And a prayer at the time of conversion should express repentance and faith, but it is not itself repentance and faith. How has prayer at the time of conversion become “the prayer”? And where did the language of “accepting” or “receiving” Christ with this prayer come from? This is all foreign to scripture. The most common justification I've heard is Revelation 3:20, which is part of a section containing many rich truths about salvation – but saying nothing of a prayer to open the door of one's heart to Jesus.

Also troubling are the sweeping affirmations we give to new converts. As soon as someone finishes “praying to receive Christ,” some evangelists then assure that person that he or she is definitely going to heaven. Even many of those who spare such brazenness still affirm, “You are a Christian now!” Many tracts end by teaching that any person who just thumbed through the tract and said a short prayer is certainly now a Christian. Of course, the New Testament does boldly proclaim the love of God, and the death of Christ, and the possibility of conversion for all. But it is the unqualified application of these things to an individual that is wrong. Instead of rightly proclaiming God's absolute offer of forgiveness, we presumptuously proclaim the absolute forgiveness of certain individuals. But there remain questions of whether apparent faith is true faith, and whether an apparent conversion is a true one. We therefore see the New Testament giving cautions and disclaimers quite often (6). Therefore even in places where these cautions are not explicit, the message is still something like, “Your sins are forgiven, and you are made right with God! (That is, of course, those of you who truly believe.)” We, on the other hand, leave these cautions out, and tell even the unconverted that they are in fact converted, and forgiven and made right with God. This is immeasurably cruel; it leads toward hell. That can be the cost of bad theology; that can be the cost of bad evangelism.

[This piece developed through two emails and a few posts on my other blog.]

- - - - - - - - - -

(1) James 2:14-22
(2) 1 John 2:3-6, 9, Galatians 5:19-24, Matthew 25:31-46
(3) Romans 11:17-22, John 10:27-29, Matthew 7:21-23, 1 Corinthians 6:9-10
(4) Luke 14:26-27, Matthew 16:24-25
(5) e.g. to avoid Matthew 23:15
(6) 2 Corinthians 13:5, Romans 8:17, 1 John 1:7, 1 Corinthians 10:12, Ephesians 4:20-21, 2 Corinthians 5:17, Romans 8:1, Hebrews 3:6, 14, cf. 1 John 2:19