God Is Absurd

Initially, it was somewhat difficult to swallow Kierkegaard's belief about the 3 stages, and the teleological suspension of the ethical. Kierkegaard assumes that God exists, without any kind of logical explanation or proof, because...he just does. It's impossible to provide proof of God's existence.

But isn't this a little unfair? We are simply supposed to accept something so grand and inexplicable, casting aside everything we've learned and grown up believing? That's a tall order. Kierkegaard even says that it may be easier for someone who did not grow up in the Christian religion reach the religious stage, which I also have a hard time accepting. So someone who's grown up in a polytheistic religion, and known nothing else, is supposed to wake up one day and realize that there's only one God, and then put all of their faith in Him?

This reminds me a lot of one of my favorite books, The Brothers Karamazov. Dostoevsky's last book shows three different perspectives on how to live life, and takes on the lofty task of explaining and arguing in support of faith in God (it's very Kierkegaardian!). And he certainly does not skimp on objections to his argument. Ivan Karamazov delivers a grand speech on his objections to God in the chapters Rebellion and The Grand Inquisitor, possibly the most powerful sections in the massive book.I've often seen The Grand Inquisitor sold separately from the entire book.

In Rebellion, while discussing torture against children, Ivan states:

While there is still time, I hasten to protect myself, and so I renounce the higher harmony altogether. It's not worth the tears of that one tortured child who beat itself on the breast with its little fist and prayed in its stinking outhouse, with its unexpiated tears to 'dear, kind God'! It's not worth it, because those tears are unatoned for. They must be atoned for, or there can be no harmony. But how? How are you going to atone for them? Is it possible? By their being avenged? But what do I care for avenging them? What do I care for a hell for oppressors? What good can hell do, since those children have already been tortured? And what becomes of harmony, if there is hell? I want to forgive. I want to embrace. I don't want more suffering. And if the sufferings of children go to swell the sum of sufferings which was necessary to pay for truth, then I protest that the truth is not worth such a price...

...Is there in the whole world a being who would have the right to forgive and could forgive? I don't want harmony. From love for humanity I don't want it. I would rather be left with the unavenged suffering. I would rather remain with my unavenged suffering and unsatisfied indignation, even if I were wrong. Besides, too high a price is asked for harmony; it's beyond our means to pay so much to enter on it. And so I hasten to give back my entrance ticket, and if I am an honest man I am bound to give it back as soon as possible. And that I am doing. It's not God that I don't accept, Alyosha, only I most respectfully return him the ticket."

In The Grand Inquisitor, Ivan goes on to describe why it is wrong that God should've made humans so weak, and then expect us to cast everything aside for faith.

Perhaps these objections were too strong?

It's incredibly rare that I tear up while reading. But these two chapters so beautifully explained all the struggles I was having with religion and faith. Even if God really is so incomprehensible and absurd, it's still not fair. It's not fair that people should starve, it's not fair that children should be abused, it's not fair that there is such an inequality of resources and freedoms between peoples.

It isn't fair that God chose to make us purveyors of knowledge and security in an absurd world.

With all-encompassing power and knowledge, why did God decide to doom us in this way? Even Kierkegaard states that he was not in the religious stage. Is there anyone other than Abraham who has reached that point?

I believe, at one point or another, we all experience fear and trembling. When we realize that at one point we will die, and that we may not be ready to. When we realize that our lives don't mean much; eventually we will be forgotten and no worldly acquisitions or achievements will matter. How do we come to terms with our own mortality? Perhaps Kierkegaard and Dostoevsky are correct and we can only overcome such dread through faith. But I am not ready to accept this. I'll live out my life, and hopefully continue to search out meaning in this world and my own existence. As of now, I'm lost as to what to believe in.