Soren Kierkegaard, Danish Philosopher

Søren Kierkegaard, Danish Philosopher May 24. Søren Kierkegaard. The problem began with Søren’s father. Once when Dad was a shepherd boy hard at work in the harsh weather, he cursed God, and even when he was grown, he was convinced that—because of that curse—all seven of his children would die before they reached the age of 34. This might explain why Søren wrote so prolifically before his 34th birthday. He published close to 40 works, including poetry, fiction, philosophical treatises, theological pieces, social critiques, and works that defy labelling. In many ways, he was like the ancient Greek philosopher, Socrates. Neither philosopher was satisfied with traditional answers to moral questions, and both pushed people to think for themselves and to take responsibility for what they believed and how they lived in the light of that belief. Both philosophers drew criticism from the establishment. The main question that occupied Søren was how to “become a Christian in Christendom.” On this date in 1855, he published one of his final works: The Instant: On Beginnings, which addresses the idea of becoming one’s true self. Here’s his story. Battling the enemy’s lies demands that every man examine what he believes. And the air was thick with lies during the mid-1800s—Søren Kierkegaard’s time. Denmark’s church faced a deadly enemy. It wasn’t anything loud or violent; it was a lie nobody questioned. People just accepted it. This enemy-lie taught that a person could be born into Christianity. If your parents were Christians, then automatically you were, too. But the philosopher Kierkegaard knew that God had sent had His Son to pay the price for sin—to ransom people who entrusted their lives to Him. But the gift of salvation was not a birthright of anyone; it could be had only through faith. In 1855, Kierkegaard realized it was his duty to fight the lie. With nothing but a pen and a mindset of self-examination, Kierkegaard strode into battle. In the middle of this battle, Søren’s brother Peter visited. He was a theologian of the Danish church, and he thought Søren was as eccentric as ever: his light hair high above his forehead, his thin frame supported on legs of uneven lengths, and his eyes with a “quiet glow of love.”