Page:Selections from the writings of Kierkegaard.djvu/141

Selections from the Writings of Kierkegaard 139 Abraham, why, nothing is easier! Personally, I have de- voted a considerable amount of time to a study of Hegelian philosophy and believe I understand it fairly well ; in fact, I am rash enough to say that when, notwithstanding an effort, I am not able to understand him in some passages, it is because he is not entirely clear about the matter him- self. All this intellectual effort I perform easily and nat- urally, and it does not cause my head to ache. On the other hand, whenever I attempt to think about Abraham I am, as it were, overwhelmed. At every moment I am aware of the enormous paradox which forms the content of Abra- ham's life, at every moment I am repulsed, and my thought, notwithstanding its passionate attempts, cannot penetrate into it, cannot forge on the breadth of a hair. I strain every muscle in order to envisage the problem—and become a paralytic in the same moment.

I am by no means unacquainted with what has been ad- mired as great and noble, my soul feels kinship with it, being satisfied, in all humility, that it was also my cause the hero espoused; and when contemplating his deed I say to myself: "jam tua causa agitur." I am able to identify myself with the hero ; but I cannot do so with Abraham, for whenever I have reached his height I fall down again, since he confronts me as the paradox. It is by no means my intention to maintain that faith is some- thing inferior, but, on the contrary, that it is the highest of all things ; also that it is dishonest in philosophy to offer something else instead, and to pour scorn on faith; but it ought to understand its own nature in order to know what it can offer. It should take away nothing; least of all, fool people out of something as if it were of no value. I am not unacquainted with the sufferings and dangers of life, but I do not fear them, and cheerfully go forth to meet them. . . . But my courage is not, for all that, the courage of faith, and is as nothing compared with it. I cannot carry out the movement of faith : I cannot close my eyes and confidently plunge into the absurd—it is impossible for me ; but neither do I boast of it. . ..