Existentialism — The Anthropological Challenge

by E. Herbert Nygren

A difficult word to pronounce or to spell, existentialism is even more difficult to define.[1] This is true because there is a decided absence of any absolute system of thought held by those who wish to be classified as existentialists. In fact, the whole existential movement has been one against system. In a sense, to define is to destroy. Over a period of several years this word has occasionally been associated with the “bearded Bohemian” with unkempt clothes, with the long-haired cafe singer plunking on an old guitar, with the “beatnik” poet reading his esoteric creations to coffee-drinking listeners. Existentialism has also been associated with an atheistic movement centered in France, propelled by a brilliant one-time resistance-fighter turned essayist and dramatist, John Paul Sartre. Existentialism has further been associated with an attempt on the part of certain contemporary theologians to remake the Christian faith in terms of the culture in which we are now living.

As a distinguishable movement, existentialism can be seen as emerging from the life and the writings of the melancholy Danish gad-fly, Soren Kierkegaard. With some amazing flashes of insight, he jibed and cajoled the church and the society of his day until his contemporaries resented him bitterly. It is just his pungent criticism and biting sarcasm which has led many of Kierkegaard’s twentieth century disciples to arise and call him blessed. Existentialism is, in actuality, perhaps more a movement and an attitude than a system of thought and as such cannot be reduced to a set of tenets. It is a life of continuous questioning. Yet there are several characteristics which seem to be indicative of this expression of life. One general feature is an emphasis upon the individual and a hostility to all systems of thought. Existentialism seeks to exalt the personality and the personal experiences of the individual. In fact, it is this primacy of the existing individual that has suggested the name “existentialism.” Each man is construed as his own point of intellectual departure. This is in sharp contrast to classical philosophy which tended to begin with abstract thinking. Sartre put it: “… first of all man exists, turns up, appears on the scene, and, only afterwards, defines himself.”[2] For the existentialist, man is primarily what he is or what he is becoming by means of his own action. It is in his own search for truth and meaning that man is caught up and involved.

A second concomitant feature is the emphasis placed upon the absolute freedom of this individual man. It is emphasized that man alone, above all else, is a decision-making creature, blessed, or cursed, with the freedom to choose among a variety of possibilities in an absurd and mysterious existence; to be truly human, man must accept this freedom and conquer the anxiety and despair that threatens him by commitment to a way of life. He recognizes no authority beyond himself—past, present, or future. He repudiates any and all bodies of beliefs as having no validity in his life as he quickly rejects any particular code of morals. For the existentialist, morality is not so much conformity as it is creation. Man does not ask what he must do; man chooses what he wants to do. It is man himself who gives meaning to his own action. It is existential man’s exercise of his freedom which makes his action right. In the Flies, Sartre has Orestes say, “Suddenly freedom crashed down upon me and swept me off my feet. Nature sprang back, my youth went with the wind, and I knew myself alone, utterly alone in the midst of this well-meaning little universe… And there was nothing left in heaven, no right or wrong, nor anyone to give me orders.”[3] The emphasis is upon what is true for a person in a particular situation.

In reality, then, man produces values. He does not accept them from without himself—regardless of the source. Man is not; he is becoming.

That is to say, he is what he is not; he is not what he is. Thus one can see the nihilistic implications of Sartrian existentialism. One’s existence is a striving to become, but a never reaching; it is a striving after an illusion, a search for a phantom; thus life is an encounter with nothingness.

To exist in this absolute freedom means to exist “authentically,” to exist as man. According to John Paul Sartre, there is no excuse for one’s action to be found in his past; nor is there any justification to be discovered in the future. His only justification for his action is his choice to act. His words are illustrative of existential thinking: “We find no value or commands to turn to which legitimize our conduct.”[4] The earlier words of Gerhardt Lessing, words which influenced the thinking of Soren Kierkegaard, set the same idea before us: “If God held all truth in his right hand, and in his left hand the persistent striving for truth…and should say, ‘Choose!’ I should humbly bow before his left hand and say, ‘Father, give thy gift…”[5] All a priori principles, all postulates of reason or truth, can thus be discarded.

Perhaps it should be noted that it is the problem of understanding one’s freedom that marks a point of sharp differentation in modern existentialism. The atheistic wing insists that the existing man’s freedom can be attained only apart from any illusion of a supernatural God invented by the forgone ages as means of keeping man in bondage. Sartre would agree with Friedrich Nietsche that to accept God and do His will is actually to abandon freedom. It would not be sufficient to say that God gave man freedom, for this is implicit essentialism. Freedom demands self-determinism. Any belief in God, from the perspective of a Sartre, is detrimental to human nature. It is, as he put it, “bad faith,” a refusal to accept the fact of freedom. One who believes in God has fled from his responsibility. Thus, evil is not to be taken as estrangement from the living God; it is estrangement from one’s self and what one can become.

The religiously oriented wing of existentialism, however, places more emphasis upon the involvement of individual man with the “Ultimate Being” or “God” as indicative of freedom. This “Ultimate Being,” for the existentialist, is very often described as the “Depth of our own being,” which means that man’s subjectivity is central. He finds “Ultimate Being” most meaningful by looking deeply into himself.

Another related generalization of the existential movement is its emphasis upon despair, anxiety, death. There seems to be a prevailing mood of pessimism, a mood which appears to be related to existentialism’s understanding of the human situation as one filled with contradictions which cannot be resolved. In the novel, Nausea, Sartre has Roquentin muse: to exist is to happen without reason. Everything is purposeless, this garden, this town, and myself.[6]

Existentialism’s man, wrote Norman Greene, “must carve a slow and painful path through achievement toward a transcendent perfection which he will never reach.”[7] “Indeed,” Sartre has further suggested, for man “everything is permissible if God does not exist, and as a result man is forlorn, because neither within him nor without does he find anything to cling to.”[8] There is no guide! This general mood of despair comes from existentialism’s persistent emphasis upon man’s corruption and his total incapacity for improvement.

To be sure, Biblical writings antedate the contemporary existentialist movement. Yet, there are certain implications in Scripture which are relevant to this current intellectual mood of the day.

In the writings of the Bible, there is a serious attempt to understand man in his personal existence. At a cursory glance, it might even appear as if the emphasis upon man as the solitary figure who stands condemned as a sinner as a result of Adam’s sin and because of his own rebellion against God would give support to existentialism. A careful study, I believe, will refute such a tentative assumption. Let us see man as presented by the Biblical narrative and compare it to the anthropological assumptions made by existentialism.

At the outset, it must be noticed that there is never an exaltation of the human personality as such. Human personality is incomplete apart from its own recognition of relationship to the Divine. The creation narrative distinctly describes man as dependent upon his creator. To be created in the image of God is to be contingent, and to be dependent upon that over and beyond.

John Wesley suggested that the Scriptures describe man as being in a “state of sleep.” “He is in gross, stupid ignorance of whatever he is most concerned to know.”[9] In man’s natural state it is not possible for man to know anything, especially himself. For this reason a Biblical consideration of man cannot be primarily a purely subjective study. Rather, it must be an awareness of the fact that man is what he is because God said, “Let us make man in our image.” Yes, man is a solitary creature, but his solitariness is meaningless apart from a relation to his creator. Biblically, the proper understanding of man begins with an understanding of his relationship to God, for apart from God man is nothing, accomplishes nothing, and arrives at nothing.

Paul Scherer puts it: “For 400 years and more, ever since the dawn of modern history in the Renaissance, man has struggled to know himself as man—it is almost impossible to assess the gains that have come by way of that struggle—only to have such catastrophe overtake him at last as would seem once and for all to underscore the fact that he cannot even know himself as man unless he knows himself under God. Where there is no God, there is no man.”[10]

Dr. Mack B. Stokes, in addressing himself to existentialism’s emphasis upon man’s subjective existence said: The nontheistic existentialist is “like a man trying to make his way upstream on a worm-eaten, water-logged raft… As he paddles the clumsy craft, his face is set against the currents and the wind. No matter how much he struggles, he makes no headway.”[11]

If one were to attempt to begin with man’s subjectivity, one could not really do so, for apart from God man cannot understand who or what he really is. Words of Wesley may again be used in referring to Biblical man: “What a fool, what a blockhead, what a madman is he that forgets the very end of his creation.”[12] Full self-realization is not possible apart from God. In fact, there can be no self-realization; there can be, in reality, only the realization that one was made like God and needs to have that image restored. Man does not find himself until he finds God.

This means, then, that since one is not able to begin in his own subjectivity, he needs another fulcrum. This point of departure must be the historic Jesus of Nazareth. Without the Christ of history any existential brooding or subjective analysis would be a futile venture, devoid of meaning. Jesus was God’s entry upon the stage of human history, “veiled in flesh.”

Matthew’s Gospel records a series of some ten miracles. Every conceivable type of human malady is represented; every conceivable type of person is represented. In each instance, Jesus entered upon an apparently hopeless situation and life once again took on meaning. In the midst of that series one miracle in particular stands out. It is the one describing the bringing of the paralytic to Jesus by the friends who were forced to pry open the roof in order to gain admission for their friend. Presumably, the paralytic’s reason for wanting to be brought to Jesus was that he might be healed. Strange, was it not? Jesus did not heal him at once as he had others. Instead, he said: “My son, your sins are forgiven.” This gave rise, to a discussion between some of the observers who, in effect, said: Who does He think He is, God? Only God can forgive sin. Jesus then made the comment: Which is easier to say. Your sins are forgiven, or to say Rise and walk? He turned to the man and said, Rise take your bed and walk.” I have a suspicion that what Jesus was saying to the man was: What are you doing lying there? Go home. In effect, the forgiveness of his sins was what that man really needed, although he had thought that it was a physical malady which had enslaved him.

That is to say: He knew his “real” self only after contact with Jesus.

Contemporary existentialism suggests that man’s importance is his being, his existence here and now. This being true, it follows that man’s religious life, what he experiences, is not necessarily related to the historical career of Jesus. Thus it is that for many subjectively inclined existentialists the Gospel record was written to present not so much the life of Jesus as to reveal the experiences of his followers. With such an understanding of the New Testament record, who Jesus was must be forever shrouded by the pall of the unknown and the unknowable. Many existentially-oriented theologians suggest that to speak of Jesus with any degree of historic certainty or demonstrable reality is totally irrelevant to contemporary man, for what happens to us “religiously” may very well happen apart from Jesus by virtue of God’s perpetual saving concern which is merely illustrated in Jesus.

Existentialism emphasizes the confrontation of an individual in his subjectivity with “The Biblical message” rather than with the truth of an historical entity. There is no acceptance that the preaching of the New Testament Church had its foundation in fact, in the One Who lived and died and rose again according to the Scriptures. For the Christian faith it was the historic Jesus Who gave meaning to man, and not man’s religious experience which gave meaning to Jesus’ life and ministry.

Concerning existentialism’s second emphasis—human freedom, one might assume that the Biblical stress upon man’s personal responsibility has existential overtones. For, after all, does not the creation narrative tell us that man had a will, and does not a will imply freedom? The freedom which the New Testament—especially St Paul in his Galatian Letter—espouses, however, is not a freedom to do as one pleases. There is no justification for any suggestion that St. Paul was an antinomian, having thrown over any firmly established moral order in order to ascribe freedom to man. On the contrary, throughout his entire life he was adamant in preaching that there were objective rights and wrongs, that it was not just man’s idea which made for moral correctness. John Wesley forcefully declared: “It is a spokesman for Satan who ‘speakest evil of the law.’”[13]

The Christian Faith from the Apostolic period has persistently taught that there was a difference between right and wrong, that man’s freedom did not mean a freedom to ignore this distinction according to his own whim or fancy. On the contrary, the Biblical word to a century which seemingly has lost control of itself would be a challenge to return to absolutes. There is no doubt that Paul would say without equivocation: Adultery is wrong; sedition is wrong; drunkenness is wrong. They are wrong, he would have argued, because there is a fundamental difference between divine commandment and human exercise. Man himself had not the capacity to determine for himself what was right and wrong.

Another aspect of Biblical teaching relevant to his approach to man’s freedom is on advocacy of the “disciplined life.” One could use Wesley’s adoption of the name “Methodist” for his societies as a suggestion of a disciplined life. His Oxford “Holy Club” was comprised of young disciplined men who denied themselves—not ascetically, but majestically—for the glory of God. His own strictly regulated day which began at four or five o’clock in the morning set Wesley himself in sharp contrast to many men of his time. Nor did Wesley cease his stern moralizing following his Aldersgate experience. The rules drawn up in 1739 for his “Societies” continued to remain in effect. Throughout his life, Wesley practiced and taught others definite rules of life. His reason was suggested in his sermon, “Justification by Faith,” he said, “To man…God gave perfect law, to which he required full and perfect obedience.”[14]

Thus it may be said that true morality is related to one’s faith in Christ. Apart from that faith there can be no true morality, for the unredeemed man is incapable of good. On the other hand, no man who calls himself a lover of God could dare to say that he is free from restraint. One who believes that as a Christian he has suddenly been set free from all objective restraint is a child of the devil.

Paul would hold no quarter fox any theory which might suggest that only in man’s desire for freedom from restraint and in his renunciation of accepted standards is he truly free. Such teaching, he would contend, separates religion and morality. True freedom is rather a voluntary bondage to that which is greater than oneself. Paul identified himself as the servant of Christ.

Concerning the third generalization of contemporary existentialism: How right existentialism is to proclaim this a world of despair. It is—without God. What a day this becomes for the proclamation of the Gospel! For the Christian Faith, man’s life is not ultimately futile, for man can rise into a state of joy. This is indicated by Jesus’ presentation of what should be Christianity’s fundamental teaching regarding the “New Birth.” In fact, emphasis upon the conversion experience sounds a resounding “no” to gloom and despair as the end of man’s life.

Biblical teaching on the New Birth as indicative of his hopeful outlook on man’s future was persistent emphasis upon what came to be called Godlike living. The most awesome, fearful words of Jesus are, “Be ye holy as your Father in Heaven is Holy.”

Many volumes have been written in attempts to delineate what Methodism’s Founder meant by Christian Perfection. Often it seems that he was far from being as precise at this point as we would have liked. There are, nevertheless, several features about this teaching which may be enumerated. He does make clear, first of all, by saying what he does not mean. Christian Perfection, he suggested, is not to be equated with perfect freedom from ignorance, mistakes, infirmities, or temptation.[15] In addition to this negative description, it seems possible to suggest two positive approaches toward an understanding of Wesley’s Perfection. Foremost is the frequent emphasis upon love. By Christian Perfection, Wesley himself declared, “I mean ‘perfect love’ or the loving God with all our heart…”[16] Perhaps his words addressed to his brother Charles are also suggestive. Here he defined Christian Perfection as the “humble, gentle, patient love of God and man ruling…the whole heart.”[17] In his tract, Christian Perfection, he sought to elucidate his meaning of the title as “that love of God and our neighbor which implies deliverance from all sin.”[18]

These words suggest another emphasis by Wesley. He understood Christian Perfection as the expulsion of sin, both inward and outward, from the heart of man. It meant that man’s heart has been “purified…from envy, malice, wrath, and every unkind temper;”[19] it meant that man could walk as Christ walked and be holy even as the God Who called him was Holy. Wesley expressed himself clearly by stating that Christian Perfection is “that habitual disposition of the soul which in the sacred writings is termed holiness and which directly implies being cleansed from sin…”[20]

The late W. E. Sangster of British Methodism has contributed the following summary of Wesleyan teaching on Christian Perfection. “It is indwelling love, banishing all conscious sin, received by faith in an instant, and maintained from moment to moment by humble dependence on God. It is aware of itself, attainable in this life, and yet ascetically detached from the normal life of men.”[21]

Whatever else this Wesleyan doctrine of Christian Perfection might mean, one certain implication is involved in its indication of Wesley’s high regard for the potential of man by the help of God. Man does have a meaningful future toward which to press in anticipation that arrival is a real possibility. It is little wonder that in contrast to Wesleyan hope and joy, existentialism’s man has been described by Dr. Mack Stokes as “an estranged creature whistling in the dark.”[22] Consider John Paul Sartre’s drama, “No Exit.” Three characters appear. They are assigned to a room for “eternity.” This is their “hell,” to be shut up together, to torture each other with their confessions, their accusations. There is no exit, no possible escape from these torments of life which constitutes what hell is. There is no possible forgiveness, no possible eradication of their dismal pasts. Life is nothing more than a torment for possessor and for antagonist.

For John Wesley, God provided man the victory over despair. The believer in Christ may know here and now the joy of the transformed life. Nor are there any limits as to what Divine grace can do for and in a human life. To fully understand oneself, for Wesley, meant a recognition of what one could become as the result of his confrontation with the Christ whose actual life and death is relevant for modern existence.

Notes

1. Sections of this essay originally appeared as “Wesley’s Answer to Existentialism.” Permission to reprint from the Christian Advocate, February 11, 1965, Copyright 1965, by the Methodist Publishing House, has graciously been granted.
2. Sartre, Jean Paul, Existentialism and Human Emotions. (New York: Philosophical Library,) 1957, p. 15.
3. Sartre, Jean Paul, No Exit and Three Other Plays. (Act. IV.) (New York: Vintage Books, 1946, p. 122.)
4. Sartre, Jean Paul, Existentialism and Human Emotions. (New York: Philosophical Library,) 1957, p. 23.
5. Quoted by Kierkegaard, Soren, Concluding Unscientific Postscript, (Translated by David F. Swenson, completed by Walter Lawrie.) Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1941, p. 97.
6. Sartre, Jean Paul, Nausea. (Translated by Lloyd Alexander.) New York: New Directions Books. p. 170.
7. Green, Norman, Jean Paul Sartre, The Existential Ethic. Ann Arbar: University of Michigan Press, 1963, p. 72.
8. Sartre, Jean Paul, Existentialism and Human Emotions. (New York: Philosophical Library,) 1957, p. 23.
9. Wesley, John, Sermons: The Spirit of Bondage and Adoption.” Standard Edition, Vol. I, p. 181.
10. Scherer, Paul, Love is a Spendthrift. (New York: Harper, 1961.) p. 15.
11. Stokes, Mack B., The Epic Revelation. New York: McGraw Hill, 1961, p. 107.
12. Wesley, John, Letters, Standard Edition, Vol. V, pp. 336, 7.
13. Wesley, John, “The Origin, Nature, Property and Use of the Law,” Vol. II, p. 42.
14. Wesley, John, Sermons: “Justification by Faith.” Standard Edition, Vol. p. 116.
15. Ibid., “Christian Perfection,” Standard Edition, Vol. II, p. 152.
16. Loc. Cit.
17. Op. Cit., Letters, Vol. V., p. 38.
18. Ibid., p. 53.
19. Wesley, John, Christian Perfection, p. 13.
20. Ibid., p. 5.
21. Sangster, W. E., Unpublished Sermon.
22. Stokes, Op. Cit., p. 109.