Thursday, February 2, 2017

Final Discussion: Soren Kierkegaard and the Fractal Pattern of Descent

Original Research Paper By Heather Thompson
Blue Phoenix Art, MDIV Student at Seattle University
Copywrite 2017

How does one begin to express the complex fractal pattern of descent embedded throughout Kierkegaard’s writings? How does a person walk alongside others in slowly unveiling the paradox of invitation and offense with the same multi-dimensionality as Kierkegaard? It is my belief that color and creative language acts as a powerful vehicle to accomplish this challenging task. Stepping into the unknown of a blank canvas and allowing my subconscious to communicate directly to the viewer through complex images, the pattern of emergence in the present moment becomes evident. Furthermore, with the willingness to destroy a painting in the forward motion of artistic expression, the path of descent is symbolically represented. Finally, all of this artistic expression occurs in the context of feminine Mystery, which is beyond gender and humanity into the realm of darkness and the unknown. This section focuses on the path of descent through the lens of Theopoetics, including discussion of the fractal pattern, the value of language beyond words, and the irony of “the poet.”



The Fractal Pattern of Descent

The fractal pattern of descent can be observed throughout Kierkegaard’s theology. It goes by many names - the inverse, the invitation/halt, the offense, the absurd, and more. Ultimately, he is describing a repeating pattern – a fractal – that is the pattern of the inviter/prototype/Jesus Christ.


“…and in order to believe in him we have to begin with the abasement.”[1] – Soren Kierkegaard


“Thus, his life was a retrogression instead of a progression, the opposite of what the human mentality naturally thinks and desires.”[2]-Soren Kierkegaard


“He does not say that God is greater than the most loving human being but that he is greater than the heart that condemns itself. In this way, God and the human being thus resemble each other only inversely. Not by steps of direct resemblance – great, greater, greatest – do you arrive at the possibility of comparison; it is only possible inversely.”[3] – Soren Kierkegaard


“So then the Way has now become something else, not the one in the New Testament: in abasement, hated, abandoned, persecuted, and cursed to suffer in this world – No, the Way is: admired, applauded, honored and knighted to make a brilliant career! And just as the Way has become something else, indeed, the opposite, so also the interpretation of Scripture.”[4] – Soren Kierkegaard


A fractal is a never-ending pattern that is infinitely complex.[5] Fractals can occur in mathematics, but they can also be observed throughout the entirety of Creation. Although Kierkegaard did not speak of fractals, he spoke at length about repetition. Perhaps most poignantly, he stated: “The main point is that everything takes place at the right time. Everything has its time in youth, and what has had its time then has it again later in life.”[6] Thus, from the seasons of human life to the cycles of the natural world, we are a universe steeped in repetition.



Even when the moment seems to diverge entirely from the expected and into the absurd, this remains a repetition because the very lack of consistency is being repeated. Through the lens of Kierkegaard, life is unpredictable – thereby making it essentially predictable. As an example, he stated: “The only repetition was the impossibility of a repetition.”[7] He goes on to say, “…for I had discovered that there simply is no repetition and had verified it by having it repeated in every possible way.”[8] Finally, he discussed the uncertainty that exists within the context of this moment by moment repetition, on the one hand referring to it as the “fullness of time,”[9] and on the other hand observing that any moment could bring a collapse of everything meaningful in a person’s life.[10] These statements reflect Kierkegaard’s willingness to experience the paradox of the present moment (immanence), while stepping back to observe repetitive patterns (transcendence).



As I stated in the introduction, it is my belief that the fractal path of descent is a feminine journey. To cultivate this point further, I need to incorporate the concept of Yin as described in Chinese Medicine and the Tao (an essential lens that I incorporate into my Christian perspective).



The feminine path is Yin – it is the walk into darkness where ego is challenged and true self emerges. At the intersection of Yin and Yang lies the element of water – it is fluid, fear-generating, and the path to opening one’s awareness of God’s call. It is only through this path of Yin that one can authentically reach Yang – the masculine path that produces visible action. Absent Yin, the rising of Yang cannot be considered authentic. (Note the similarity to the authentic path described by Kierkegaard.) At the intersection of Yang and Yin lies the element of Fire – it burns with both joy and destruction as the cycle moves back into Yin. Although Kierkegaard didn’t speak specifically of Yin and Yang, feminine and masculine, he described an authentic path that begins with the abasement in an inverted journey where one must go down to go up. The similarities to Yin and Yang are noticeable and applicable in the context of understanding my argument that the downward path is distinctly feminine.


Furthermore, Kierkegaard spoke of Mystery as the unknown depths. He was mindful of the greatness of the unsayable that we call “God,” and the formlessness that accompanies awareness of the abyss:

“Spiritual existence, especially the religious, is not easy; the believer continually lies out on the deep, has 70,000 fathoms of water beneath him. However long he lies out there, this still does not mean that he will gradually end up lying and relaxing onshore. He can become more calm, more experienced, find a confidence that loves jest and a cheerful temperament--but until the very last he lies out on 70,000 fathoms of water.”


While I don’t believe that Kierkegaard intentionally incorporated the feminine abyss into the above quote, I feel compelled to draw attention to his innate awareness of it through the lens of water, instability, darkness – all elements of Yin – which lie at the core of Kierkegaard’s inverted path.


From the birth of stars to the birth of human beings – Kierkegaard seemed to embrace the suffering that accompanies emergence. This is the path of descent. Although it is evident throughout his writings, it is perhaps most apparent in the actual life of Jesus Christ as the prototype. According to Kierkegaard:

“Christ came to the world with the purpose of saving the world, also with the purpose – this in turn is implicit in his first purpose – of being the prototype, leaving footprints for the person who wanted to join him, who then might become an imitator, this indeed corresponds to ‘footprints.’ That is why he let himself be born into lowliness and thereupon lived poor, abandoned, despised, abased – yes, no human being has lived so abased as he. By comparing the conditions of his life with Christ’s, even the otherwise lowliest person would have to come to the conclusion that his own life, humanly speaking, is far preferable in comparison with the conditions of Christ’s life.”[11]



But why? Why did Christ – the Inviter – necessarily live a life of suffering and abasement? This is where Kierkegaard distinguishes between the imitator and the admirer:

“See, that is why Christ was born and lived in abasement. Not one, unconditionally not one person contemporary with him, lived so abased; no human being has ever lived so abased. It was, therefore, unconditionally impossible for anyone to sneak away from the prototype with excuse and evasion on the basis that the prototype, after all, possessed earthly and worldly advantages that he did not have. In that sense, to admire Christ is the untrue invention of a later age, aided by ‘loftiness.’ Understood in that way, there was unconditionally nothing to admire, unless one wanted to admire poverty, misery, contempt, etc. He was not even exempted from the worst – being pitied, a pitiable object of sympathy. No, there was truly not the least thing to admire.”[12]



Thus, admiration was not only a fallacy – as there is nothing to admire except suffering – but it leaves room for detachment in Kierkegaard’s view, where the admirer does not need to strive to be what he admires.[13] It is the imitator that strives to walk in the way of Jesus. This path must begin anew with each generation, yet another fractal. As stated by Kierkegaard, “Christ freely willed to be the lowly one, and although his purpose was to save mankind, yet he also wanted to express what the truth would have to suffer and what the truth must suffer in every generation.”[14] It is a fractal awareness that embraces the painful journey required by each generation from birth unto death, an awareness that often leaves people in a place of no words.


A Divergent Path Beyond Words - Theopoetics

“Thinking about Abraham is another matter, however; then I am shattered. I am constantly aware of the prodigious paradox that is the content of Abraham’s life, I am constantly repelled, and, despite all its passion, my thought cannot penetrate it, cannot get ahead by a hairsbreadth. I stretch every muscle to get a perspective, and at the very same instant I become paralyzed.”[15]


Kierkegaard invites his readers into the paradox of Mystery and the fractal path of descent when he discusses the story of Abraham - a story in which a father suffers with the awareness that he has been asked to kill his own son. He invites his audience to consider the tortuous moments leading up to the events on Mt. Moriah. With each step – over the course of three days – the reader is asked to consider the feelings associated with such a walk into the unknown. It is a story of absolute faith in the face of Mystery that exceeds the human capacity for comprehension; it is a story that places Kierkegaard himself in a place of no words.[16] Thus, the experience of a lack of words can occur at both ends of the spectrum, where one is speechless in the midst of suffering and one can be speechless in the face of the greatness that is the unsayable Mystery of God.


Kierkegaard argues that the walk into suffering is to be embraced, even as it results in abandonment by others and even if it occurs at the hands of the people. He says, “What is decisive in Christian suffering is the voluntariness and the possibility of offense for the one who suffers.”[17] Kierkegaard then goes on to say, “What Christianity wants is: imitation. What the human being does not want is to suffer, least of all the kind of suffering that is authentically Christian, to suffer at the hands of the people. So he discards the imitation and thereby suffering, the distinctly Christian suffering.”[18] Suffering – especially this kind of voluntary suffering– is therefore countercultural.


Whether it be physical pain, disability, sickness, economic struggle, persecution, or any other form of human suffering, suffering pushes people to the margins especially when there is a speechlessness that comes with the struggle. Lacking the ability to express themselves in socially appropriate language and living into the mess of the path of descent, those that are suffering are often at a loss for words. It is in this light that Theopoetics – art, poetry, music, color, intuition, and contemplation – provides a valuable method of theological discourse and expression, especially on the fractal path of descent. It is a method that honors the simultaneous nature of both immanence and transcendence. As stated by Kate Common, Editor of Theopoetics Journal: “Theopoetics illuminates the inherent blind spots of rational-only discourse....It is not enough for me to say that women and other marginalized voices have been silenced...I must also insist that poetic practices and ways of KNOWING have also been silenced.”[19] This is where the paradoxes of suffering and Mystery, descent and resurrection, immanence and transcendence can be communicated within the complex creativity of the divinely inspired human mind.


Although Kierkegaard spent thousands of pages attempting to use words to describe that which is inherently unknowable, he was clearly in touch with the line between language and the frontier of Mystery. The quote at the beginning of this section illustrates his own comprehension of paralysis. Furthermore, he went so far as to suggest silence as preferable to sermons, as evidenced in the following quote: 


“Take certain passages from the New Testament and require the pastors to read them aloud before the congregation. Naturally I would have to make one reservation, that after having read such a passage from the New Testament the pastor does not, as is customary, lay aside the New Testament to “interpret” what was read. No thanks! No, what I could be tempted to propose is the following divine worship service: the congregation is assembled, a prayer is prayed at the church door, a hymn is sung, then the pastor ascends the pulpit, picks up the New Testament, pronounces God’s name, and then reads before the congregation the specified passage loudly and clearly – after that he must be silent and remain standing silent in the pulpit for five minutes, and then he may go. This I would regard as extremely beneficial.”[20]


While it would be a leap to suggest that Kierkegaard would embrace Theopoetics, I believe he is mindful of the limits of human language in the Christian journey.


The Irony of the Poet

Any discussion of Theopoetics in relationship to Kierkegaard must incorporate the irony of “the poet” as a theme throughout his writings. Specifically, Kierkegaard regarded “the poet” as a person primarily concerned with the aesthetic. This understanding was largely contextual, based upon the romanticism of his day. Thus, like a contemporary film-maker, Kierkegaard’s “poet” could toss out fantastical ideas without being held to the existential standard of living into the truth of the poetry. In this way, poetry became palatable and pleasing, thereby lacking the offense that is so critical to an authentic reading of the New Testament.



It is ironic, therefore, that I am using art, creativity and poetry to interpret Kierkegaard’s writings in direct contradiction of his notion of “the poet.” Perhaps he would find this offensive, or perhaps he would find it appropriate, or perhaps he would feel both simultaneously, which would be very appropriate for Kierkegaard’s feeling of the invitation and the offense. This is especially true given the fact that Kierkegaard utilized language and methods that feel very poetic throughout his writings in the way he approaches the unsayable, his use of metaphor, exploration of paradoxes. He even goes so far as to call himself a poet, even as he speaks against it. “We are, as it is called, a Christian nation – but in such a way that not a single one of us is in the character of the Christianity of the New Testament, no more than I am; I have repeated again and again and repeat once again: I am only a poet.”[21]



While it is natural to be confused by these seemingly contradictory messages regarding “the poet,” it is appropriate for there to be no easy answer. In my reading of Kierkegaard, only one thing is certain – that walking in the midst of disorienting questions is the path of faith. His use of paradoxes, irony and metaphors can be observed by his simultaneous criticism and embrace of “the poet.” In fact, he discusses the fact that he used poetry as a disguise during his writings when he stated, “In the name of being a poet, I advanced some ideal…but these good men did not suspect at all that something was hiding behind this poet – that the method was that of a detective in order to make those in question feel safe – a method police use precisely in order to gain an opportunity to look more deeply into the case.”[22] Ironically, my own theopoetical journey into the writings of Kierkegaard is somewhat similar to this poet in disguise. With an orientation toward the depths of the abyss, creative use of art and poetry affords the opportunity to explore complex, paradoxical and even offensive ideas while remaining aesthetically interesting.




ARTISTIC COMMENTARY



Having articulated the inherent value of communication beyond words, the path of descent and the irony of “the poet,” it is appropriate to now – finally – put the linkage between the art and theology into words. Note that there were so many layers, meanings and interpretations that could have arisen out of the paint, poetry and video offered. I chose, however, to focus on two primary elements: The Feminine Darkness and the Metaphor of Trees.

Darkness as Feminine

The painting process is an experiential walk into the feminine Yin; an empowered choice to step into the depths of the unknown in order to allow the art to emerge from my fingers without any conscious intentionality. In doing so, I am uninhibited with one step into the great abyss of Mystery. This is the darkness, the feminine, the unknown. It is the unseen container – womb - in which the seen can flourish. While it would be easy to focus only on the observable product of the artistic journey, it is essential to begin with an acknowledgement of the unseen crucible in which art (as in life) emerges. In this manner, the method by which my paintings came into being becomes just as important as the paintings themselves.



The accompanying poetry references Mystery in feminine language, much as Kierkegaard used notions of “laboring” and “weaning” to reference the path of descent. The poem deliberately incorporates words in direct reference to the feminine experience: immanence, contraction, darkness, Mystery. Furthermore, the poem describes a crucible/womb that is simultaneously both dark and burning beyond comprehension in the following section:

The vision of the Creator

Manifests

Within the bounds of a vast womb,

Beyond which lies the dark crucible

Burning beyond comprehension.



Lastly, the song choice for the video – Dance in the Dark – provides an essential context. I could have chosen many songs, including “Hunger Strike” by Temple of the Dog and “Show Me What I am Looking For” by Carolina Liar, but it was this song that resonated most with the artistic project. A contemporary female artist recognizing the suffering path while celebrating/dancing within the feminine darkness, and a woman “poet” living into the opposition of the aesthetic my making her life into performance art. It is through this multi-dimensionality that I hoped to provide a flicker of insight into the darkness of the feminine experience.



The Metaphor of Trees

During the process of creating the paintings, it became clear to me that my hands were creating trees. I found myself pondering the metaphor as I silently morphed one layer into another, then used the remnants of the first painting to create a second. Perhaps best reflected in the changing of the seasons, deciduous trees offer a beautiful example of the path of descent. Some suggest that the natural world is simply another form of scripture, offering insight into the fractal patterns of all of Creation and therefore a brief glimpse into Creator. Others suggest that the natural world is all a part of the eternal Christ/Word of God. I similarly found myself diving into this metaphorical journey in the language of abstract color and poetry.



Paint exploded onto the canvas just as seeds come unraveled under fertile soil. With thoughts of Hildegard of Bingham, green paint became the foundation upon which the tree eventually emerged. Aware of the letting go process associated with the transition of Fall into Winter, I bravely covered a painting in bronze and black – the entire time I was terrified that I was destroying something beautiful, and yet I persisted, only to have the beautiful red burst forth again in colorful glory. Although not a metaphor used by Kierkegaard, the tree metaphor offered an accessible way of interpreting the fractal path of descent in an aesthetically pleasing and comprehensible way. Once again, I will note the irony of this statement given the earlier discussion on “the poet.”


CONCLUSION

It seems appropriate to end with a question, just as Kierkegaard does not give his audience easy answers. With that in mind…


I wonder what Kierkegaard would have thought of a contemporary woman writing an interpretation of his theological perspective using the aesthetics of art and poetry? Would he have been offended? Would he have noticed that I too was a poet in disguise?


While I will not attempt to answer these questions for Kierkegaard, I will say this – to understand Kierkegaard (if that is even possible) is to grasp that life is to be lived between each person and the Inviter. If my method offends him, perhaps that would be acceptable as his own “halt” on the path of descent…or perhaps not.


Ultimately, his life – and his insistence on communion by a lay person on his deathbed – demonstrates an appreciation for the inverse with the final recognition that we are all alone, individuals, unable to satiate each other (even as we seek their approval), attempting to follow the prototype (yet failing), invited by the Inviter (yet horrified by the reality of Christian life), and standing atop Mystery itself.


And so I shall end with my favorite quote by Soren Kierkegaard…



“And I shall remind myself that every human being is alone. Alone in the infinite world. Yes, in good days, during calm weather when fortune smiles, it does indeed seem as if we live in association with one another. But I shall remind myself that no one can know when news might come to me, news of misfortune, misery, horror, which along with the frightfulness of it would also me make alone or make it evident how alone I am, like every human being, make me alone, deserted by those nearest and dearest to me, misunderstood by my best friend, an object of anxiety that everyone avoids. I shall remind myself of the horrors which indeed no cry of alarm, no tears, no appeals averted, the horrors that have separated a lover from the beloved, a friend from friend, parents from children; and I shall remind myself of how a little misunderstanding, if it then went fatally wrong, sometimes was enough to separate them horridly….”[23]








Works Cited



Darold Treffert, M. (2010). Island of Genius. Philidelphia: Jessica Kingsley Publishers.

Fractal Foundation. (n.d.). Retrieved from http://fractalfoundation.org/resources/what-are-fractals/

Kierkegaard, S. (1983). Fear and Trembling/Repetition (Vol. VI). (H. a. Hong, Trans.) Princeton, New Jersey: Princeton University Press.

Kierkegaard, S. (1985). Philisophical Fragments (Vol. VII). (H. a. Hong, Trans.) Princeton, New Jersey: Princeton University Press.

Kierkegaard, S. (1991). Practice in Christianity (Vol. XX). (H. a. Hong, Trans.) Princeton , New Jersey: Princeton University Press.

Kierkegaard, S. (1998). The Moment and Late Writings (Vol. XXIII). (H. a. Hong, Ed., & H. a. Hong, Trans.) Woodstock, Oxfordshire, United Kingdom: Princeton University Press.

Kierkegaard, S. (2011). Discourses at the Communion on Fridays. (S. Walsh, Trans.) Bloomington, Indiana: Indiana University Press.










[1] (Kierkegaard, Practice in Christianity, 1991, p. 36)


[2] (Kierkegaard, Discourses at the Communion on Fridays, 2011, p. 64)


[3] (Kierkegaard, Discourses at the Communion on Fridays, 2011, p. 79)


[4] (Kierkegaard, The Moment and Late Writings, 1998, p. 22)


[5] (Fractal Foundation, n.d.)


[6] (Kierkegaard, Fear and Trembling/Repetition, 1983, p. 155)


[7] (Kierkegaard, Fear and Trembling/Repetition, 1983, p. 170)


[8] (Kierkegaard, Fear and Trembling/Repetition, 1983, p. 171)


[9] “And now, the moment. A moment such as this is unique. To be sure, it is short and temporal, as them moment is; it is passing, as the moment is, past, as the moment is in the next moment, and yet it is decisive, and yet it is filled with the eternal. A moment such as this must have a special name. Let us call it: the fullness of time.” (Kierkegaard, Philisophical Fragments, 1985, p. 18)




[10] “That even if I were to succeed in having all my wishes fulfilled, in having them brought up into one building-that still no one, no one would be able to guarantee me that just at the same time the whole building would not collapse upon me.” (Kierkegaard, Discourses at the Communion on Fridays, 2011, p. 42)


[11] (Kierkegaard, Practice in Christianity, 1991, p. 238)


[12] (Kierkegaard, Practice in Christianity, 1991, pp. 240-241)


[13] (Kierkegaard, Practice in Christianity, 1991, p. 241)


[14] (Kierkegaard, Practice in Christianity, 1991, p. 35)


[15] (Kierkegaard, Fear and Trembling/Repetition, 1983, p. 33)


[16] (Kierkegaard, Fear and Trembling/Repetition, 1983)


[17] (Kierkegaard, Practice in Christianity, 1991, p. 109)


[18] (Kierkegaard, The Moment and Late Writings, 1998, p. 136)


[19] (Common)


[20] (Kierkegaard, The Moment and Late Writings, 1998, p. 132)


[21] (Kierkegaard, The Moment and Late Writings, 1998, p. 36)


[22] (Kierkegaard, The Moment and Late Writings, 1998, pp. 129-130)


[23] (Kierkegaard, Discourses at the Communion on Fridays, 2011, pp. 43-44)

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