Our Duty to Remain in Love’s Debt to One Another

Danish

Paa forskjellige Maader har man søgt at betegne og beskrive, hvorledes Kjerligheden fornemmes af Den, i hvem den er, Tilstanden i Kjerlighed, eller hvorledes det er at elske. Man kalder Kjerligheden en Følelse, en Stemning, et Liv, en Lidenskab; dog da dette er saa almindelig en Bestemmelse, har man nøiagtigere søgt at beskrive den. Man har kaldet den et Savn, men vel at mærke et saadant, at den Elskende bestandigt savner, hvad han dog besidder, en Længsel, men vel at mærke bestandigt efter det, som den Elskende dog eier – thi ellers er det jo ulykkelig Kjerlighed, man beskriver. – Hiin eenfoldige Vise i Oldtiden har sagt, at »Kjerlighed er en Søn af Rigdom og Armod«. Hvo var vel ogsaa fattigere end Den, som aldrig har elsket! Men paa den anden Side, mon dog vel selv den Fattigste, der bøiet opsanker Smuler, og ydmygt takker for en Penning, mon han egentligen endog blot har en Forestilling om, hvor lille den Ubetydelighed kan være, som har uendeligt Værd for den Elskende, hvor lille den Ubetydelighed kan være, som den Elskende (i sin Armod!) paa det omhyggeligste opsamler og forsigtigt gjemmer – som den kostbareste Skat! Mon selv den Fattigste endog blot er istand til at see, hvad der kan være saa lille, at kun Lidenskabens (Kjerligheden i dens Armod!) skærpede Blik seer det, og uhyre forstørret! Men jo mindre Gjenstanden er, hvilken Armoden opsanker, naar denne dertil takker over al Maade, som var Gjenstanden overordentlig stor, desto større beviser Armoden sig jo at være. End ikke alle Forsikkringer om den største Armod bevise denne saa afgjørende, som hvis den Fattige, hvem Du gav mindre end een eneste Skilling, takkede Dig derfor med en Lidenskab, som havde Du givet ham Rigdom og Overflod, med en Lidenskab, som var han nu bleven riig. Ak, thi det er kun altfor vist, at den Fattige blev væsentligen lige fattig, saa det kun var hans – afsindige Forestilling, at han nu var bleven riig. Saa fattig er Kjerlighedens Armod! – En ædel Mand har sagt om Kjerlighed: »den tager Alt og den giver Alt.« Hvo modtog vel ogsaa Mere end Den, der modtog et Menneskes Kjerlighed; og hvo gav Mere end Den, der gav et Menneske sin Kjerlighed! Men paa den anden Side, mon vel endog selv Misundelsen, naar den misundeligst afklæder et Menneske ham hans virkelige eller formentlige Storhed, mon den kan saaledes trænge ind til det inderste Undertøi! O, Misundelsen er dog saa dum; den aner ikke engang, hvor det Indelukke kunde være, eller at det er til det Indelukke, hvor den sande Rigmand har sine sande Skatte gjemte; den aner ikke, at der virkeligen er et for Tyve (altsaa ogsaa for Misundelsen) dirkefrit Gjemme, ligesom der er Skatte, hvilke Tyve (altsaa ogsaa Misundelsen) ikke formaae at stjæle. Men Kjerligheden kan trænge ind indtil det Inderste og klæde et Menneske saaledes af, at han Intet, Intet eier, saa han selv tilstaaer, at han Intet, Intet, Intet eier. Forunderligt! Misundelsen tager, som den mener, Alt, og, naar den saa har taget det, siger Mennesket: jeg har egentligen Intet tabt. Men Kjerligheden kan tage Alt saaledes, at Mennesket selv siger: jeg eier slet Intet.

Close English

In various ways people have sought to designate and describe how love is felt by the one in whom it is: the state of being in love, or what it is like to love. Love is called a feeling, a mood, a life, a passion; but since this is so general a determination, people have sought to describe it more exactly. It has been called a lack—but, note well, such a lack that the lover continually lacks what he nevertheless possesses; a longing—but, note well, always for that which the lover nevertheless owns, for otherwise it is unhappy love that one is describing.

That simple sage of antiquity said that “love is a son of wealth and poverty”. Who indeed was poorer than the one who has never loved! But on the other hand, does even the poorest person, stooping to gather crumbs and humbly giving thanks for a coin, have the least conception of how small the insignificant trifle can be that has infinite value for the lover? How small can the trifle be that the lover—in his poverty!—most carefully gathers and cautiously hides away as the most costly treasure? Is even the poorest person capable of seeing what can be so small that only passion’s sharpened gaze—love in its poverty!—sees it, and immensely magnified! Yet the smaller the object poverty gathers, when poverty also gives thanks beyond all measure as though the object were extraordinarily great, the greater poverty proves itself to be. Not even every assurance of the greatest poverty proves it so decisively as if the poor person to whom you gave less than a single skilling thanked you with a passion as though you had given him wealth and abundance, with a passion as though he had now become rich. Alas, for it is only too certain that the poor person remained essentially just as poor, so that it was only his mad conception that he had now become rich. So poor is love’s poverty!

A noble man has said of love: “It takes everything and gives everything.” Who indeed received more than the one who received a human being’s love; and who gave more than the one who gave a human being his love! But on the other hand, can even envy, when most enviously stripping a human being of his actual or supposed greatness, penetrate in this way to the innermost undergarment! Oh, envy is nevertheless so stupid. It does not even suspect where the enclosure might be, or that there is such an enclosure in which the truly rich person has his true treasures hidden. It does not suspect that there really is a hiding place safe from lock-picks for thieves—and thus also for envy—just as there are treasures that thieves—and thus also envy—are unable to steal. But love can penetrate into the innermost and strip a human being so completely that he owns nothing, nothing, and himself confesses that he owns nothing, nothing, nothing. Wondrous! Envy takes, as it thinks, everything; and when it has taken it, the person says: I have really lost nothing. But love can take everything in such a way that the person himself says: I own absolutely nothing.

Danish

Dog rigtigst beskriver man maaskee Kjerligheden som en uendelig Gjeld: at et Menneske, naar han gribes af Kjerlighed, fornemmer dette at være som at være i en uendelig Gjeld. I Almindelighed taler man om, at Den, der bliver elsket, ved at blive elsket kommer i Gjeld. Vi tale saaledes om, at Børn ere i en Kjerlighedens Gjeld til Forældrene, fordi disse have elsket dem først, saa at Børnenes Kjerlighed kun er et Afdrag paa Gjelden, eller en Gjengjeld. Og dette er ogsaa sandt. Men dog er denne Tale altfor meget mindende om et virkeligt Regnskabs-Forhold: der er en Gjeld andraget, og den skal afbetales; det er Kjerlighed, der er viist os, og det skal afbetales med Kjerlighed. Derom tale vi nu ikke, om, at man ved at modtage kommer i Gjeld. Nei, Den, som elsker, han er i Gjeld; idet han fornemmer sig greben af Kjerligheden, fornemmer han dette som at være i en uendelig Gjeld. Vidunderligt! At give et Menneske sin Kjerlighed er jo, som sagt, det Høieste et Menneske kan give – og dog, just idet han giver sin Kjerlighed, og just ved at give den kommer han i en uendelig Gjeld. Derfor kan man sige, at dette er Kjerlighedens Eiendommelige: at den Elskende ved at give, uendeligt, kommer – i uendelig Gjeld. Men dette er det Uendeliges Forhold, og Kjerlighed er uendelig. Ved at give Penge kommer man sandeligen ikke i Gjeld, tvertimod kommer jo Modtageren i Gjeld. Naar derimod den Elskende giver, hvad der uendeligt er det Høieste, det ene Menneske kan give det andet, sin Kjerlighed, saa kommer han selv i en uendelig Gjeld. Hvilken skjøn, hvilken hellig Undseelse fører ikke Kjerligheden med sig; den ikke blot ikke tør overtale sig til at blive sig sin Gjerning bevidst som noget fortjenstligt, men den undseer sig endog for at blive sig sin Gjerning bevidst som et Afdrag paa Gjelden; den bliver sig sin Given bevidst som en uendelig Gjeld, hvilken det jo er umuligt at afbetale, da bestandigt det at give er at komme i Gjelden.

Close English

Yet perhaps love is described most correctly as an infinite debt: that a human being, when seized by love, feels this as being in an infinite debt. Ordinarily one speaks of the one who is loved coming into debt by being loved. Thus we speak of children being in a debt of love to their parents because the parents loved them first, so that the children’s love is only an instalment upon the debt, or a return. And this too is true. Yet this language is far too reminiscent of an actual accounting relation: a debt has been incurred and is to be paid down; love has been shown to us and is to be repaid with love. We are not now speaking of that—of coming into debt by receiving. No, the one who loves is in debt. In feeling himself seized by love, he feels this as being in an infinite debt.

Wondrous! To give a human being one’s love is, as stated, the highest thing one human being can give—and yet, precisely as he gives his love and precisely by giving it, he comes into an infinite debt. One may therefore say that this is love’s distinctive character: by giving, the lover infinitely comes—into infinite debt. But this is the relation of the infinite, and love is infinite. By giving money one certainly does not come into debt; on the contrary, the recipient comes into debt. But when the lover gives what is infinitely the highest thing one human being can give another—his love—he himself comes into an infinite debt.

What beautiful, what holy bashfulness love brings with it! It not only does not dare to persuade itself to become conscious of its deed as something meritorious; it is even ashamed to become conscious of its deed as an instalment upon the debt. It becomes conscious of its giving as an infinite debt, which it is of course impossible to pay down, since giving is always to come into debt.

Danish

Saaledes kunde man beskrive Kjerligheden. Dog Christendommen dvæler aldrig ved Tilstande, eller ved at beskrive dem, den haster altid til Opgaven eller med at sætte Opgaven. Dette er just udtrykt i de forelæste apostoliske Ord »bliver Ingen Noget skyldige uden det at elske hverandre«, hvilke Ord vi lægge til Grund for denne Overveielse: Vor Pligt at blive i Kjerlighedens Gjeld til hverandre.

Close English

In this way one could describe love. Yet Christianity never dwells upon states, or upon describing them; it always hastens to the task, or to set the task. This is precisely expressed in the apostolic words read aloud, “owe no one anything except this, to love one another”, which words we lay as the ground of this consideration:

Our duty to remain in the debt of love to one another.

Danish

At blive i en Gjeld! Men skulde det være vanskeligt, Intet er jo lettere end at blive i en Gjeld! Og paa den anden Side, at blive i en Gjeld skulde det være Opgaven, vi mene jo ellers just, at Opgaven er at komme ud af en Gjeld; Gjelden være en hvilkensomhelst, den være Penge-Gjeld, Æres-Gjeld, Løfte-Gjeld, kort hvilkensomhelst, Opgaven pleier ellers altid at være, jo før jo hellere at komme ud af Gjelden. Men her skulde det være Opgaven, altsaa en Ære, at blive i den. Og dersom det er Opgaven, saa maa det jo være en Handling, maaskee en vidtløftig, en vanskelig Handling; men at blive i en Gjeld er dog vel netop Udtrykket for ikke at foretage sig det Mindste, Udtrykket for Uvirksomhed, Ligegyldighed, Dorskhed. Og dette Samme skal her være Udtrykket for det meest modsatte af Ligegyldighed, Udtrykket for uendelig Kjerlighed!

Close English

To remain in a debt! But should that be difficult? Nothing is easier than to remain in a debt! And on the other hand, should remaining in a debt be the task? We otherwise think that the task is precisely to get out of a debt. Let the debt be of any kind whatsoever—money-debt, debt of honour, promise-debt, in short any kind whatsoever—the task is otherwise always to get out of the debt, the sooner the better. But here it is supposed to be the task, and thus an honour, to remain in it. And if it is the task, then it must indeed be an action, perhaps an extensive, difficult action. Yet remaining in a debt is surely precisely the expression for not undertaking the least thing, the expression for inactivity, indifference, sluggishness. And here this same thing is to be the expression for what is most opposite to indifference, the expression for infinite love!

Danish

See, alt Dette, alle disse besynderlige Vanskeligheder, der ligesom optaarne sig mod denne underlige Tale, tyder paa, at Sagen maa have et egent Sammenhæng, saa allerede en vis Omdannelse af Sind og Tanke er fornøden for blot at blive opmærksom paa, hvorom Talen er.

Close English

See, all this, all these strange difficulties that as it were tower up against this strange discourse, indicate that the matter must have a coherence of its own, so that already a certain transformation of mind and thought is necessary merely to become attentive to what the discourse is about.

Danish

Lad os begynde med et lille Tanke-Forsøg. Dersom en Elskende havde gjort for den Elskede noget, menneskeligt talt, saa Overordentligt, saa Høimodigt, saa Opoffrende, at vi Mennesker maatte sige »dette er det Høieste, det ene Menneske kan gjøre for det Andet«: saa var dette jo smukt og godt. Men sæt han tilføiede »see nu har jeg betalt min Gjeld«: var dette da ikke ukjerligt, koldt og strengt talt, var det ikke, om jeg saa tør sige, en Uanstændighed, som aldrig burde høres og heller aldrig høres i den sande Kjerligheds gode Selskab! Dersom derimod den Elskende havde gjort dette Høimodige og Opoffrende, og nu tilføiede »dog har jeg een Bøn, o, lad mig forblive i Gjelden«: var dette ikke kjerligt talt! Eller hvis den Elskende med enhver Opoffrelse føier den Elskedes Ønske og nu siger »det er mig en Glæde med Dette at afdrage en Smule paa den Gjeld – i hvilken jeg dog netop ønsker at blive«: var dette ikke kjerligt talt! Eller hvis han reent fortiede, at det kostede ham Opoffrelse, blot for at undgaae det Forvirrende, at det et Øieblik kunde synes som et Afdrag paa Gjelden; var dette ikke kjerligt tænkt! Naar saa er, er det jo udtrykt, at et egentligt Regnskabs-Forhold er utænkeligt, er Kjerligheden det Vederstyggeligste. Et Regnskab kan kun finde Sted, hvor der er et endeligt Forhold, fordi det Endeliges Forhold til det Endelige lader sig udregne. Men den Kjerlige kan ikke regne. Naar den venstre Haand aldrig faaer at vide, hvad den høire gjør, saa er det umuligt at gjøre et Regnskab op, og ligesaa naar Gjelden er uendelig. At regne med en uendelig Størrelse er umuligt, thi at regne er netop at endeliggjøre. – Den Elskende ønsker altsaa for sin egen Skyld at blive i Gjelden; han ønsker ikke Fritagelse for nogen Opoffrelse, langtfra. Villig, ubeskriveligt villig, som Kjerlighedens Tilskyndelse er, vil han gjøre Alt, og frygter kun Eet, at han saaledes kunde gjøre Alt, at han kom ud af Gjelden. Dette er, ret forstaaet, Frygten; Ønsket er, at blive i Gjelden, men er tillige Pligten, Opgaven. Hvis Kjerligheden i os Mennesker ikke er saa fuldkommen, at dette Ønske er vort Ønske, saa skal Pligten hjælpe os til at forblive i Gjelden.

Close English

Let us begin with a small thought-experiment. If a lover had done for the beloved something, humanly speaking, so extraordinary, so magnanimous, so self-sacrificing that we human beings had to say, “This is the highest thing one human being can do for the other”, then this was indeed beautiful and good. But suppose he added, “See, now I have paid my debt.” Was this not spoken unlovingly, coldly, and harshly? Was it not, if I may put it so, an indecency that should never be heard—and indeed never is heard—in true love’s good society! If, by contrast, the lover had done this magnanimous and self-sacrificing thing and now added, “Yet I have one request: oh, let me remain in the debt”, was this not spoken lovingly! Or if with every sacrifice the lover complies with the beloved’s wish and now says, “It is a joy to me with this to pay down a little of the debt—in which I nevertheless precisely wish to remain”, was this not spoken lovingly! Or if he kept entirely silent that it cost him a sacrifice, merely to avoid the confusing possibility that for a moment it might appear as an instalment upon the debt, was this not thought lovingly!

When this is so, it is indeed expressed that an actual accounting relation is unthinkable and is the most abhorrent thing to love. An account can take place only where there is a finite relation, because the relation of the finite to the finite can be calculated. But the loving person cannot calculate. When the left hand never learns what the right hand is doing, it is impossible to settle an account; and likewise when the debt is infinite. To calculate with an infinite magnitude is impossible, for to calculate is precisely to make finite.

Thus for his own sake the lover wishes to remain in the debt. He does not wish exemption from any sacrifice—far from it. Willingly, indescribably willingly, as love’s prompting is, he will do everything and fears only one thing: that he might do everything in such a way that he came out of the debt. This, rightly understood, is the fear. The wish is to remain in the debt, but it is also the duty, the task. If love in us human beings is not so perfect that this wish is our wish, then the duty shall help us to remain in the debt.

Danish

Naar det er Pligt at forblive i Kjerlighedens Gjeld til hverandre, da maa der tidligt og sildigt eller evigt vaages over, at Kjerligheden aldrig kommer til at dvæle ved sig selv, eller til at sammenligne sig med Kjerligheden i andre Mennesker, eller til at sammenligne sig med sine Gjerninger, som den har udført.

Close English

When it is a duty to remain in love’s debt to one another, then early and late—or eternally—watch must be kept that love never comes to dwell upon itself, or to compare itself with love in other human beings, or to compare itself with the deeds it has performed.

Danish

Der høres i Verden ofte en begeistret og opildnet Tale om Kjerlighed, om Tro og Haab, om Hjertets Godhed, kort om alle Aandens Bestemmelser, en Tale, der i de meest glødende Udtryk, med de meest glødende Farver skildrer og henriver. Og dog er en saadan Tale ret egentligen en malet Væg, den er ved et nærmere og alvorligere Eftersyn et Bedrag, da den enten maa smigre Tilhøreren eller spotte ham. Stundom høres ogsaa christelige Foredrag, hvis hele Hemmelighed er denne, som Tale og Veiledning betragtet, svigefulde Begeistring. Naar nemlig en saadan Tale er hørt, og nu et Menneske ganske eenfoldigt og redeligt (thi det er just Redelighed at ville handle efter hvad der siges En, at ville indrette sit Liv derefter) spørger »hvad skal jeg da gjøre, hvorledes skal jeg faae Kjerligheden til saaledes at flamme i mig«: saa maa Taleren egentligen svare »det er et besynderligt Spørgsmaal; Den, i hvem Kjerligheden og Troen og Haabet og Hjertets Godhed er, i ham er dette paa den beskrevne Maade, men Den, i hvem dette ikke er, ham kan det ikke hjælpe at tale til.« Besynderligt! Man skulde dog troe, at det især var af Vigtighed, at der taltes til dem, som ikke ere saaledes – for at de kunde blive saaledes. Men her ligger just det Svigefulde i Blendværket: at tale, som vilde man veilede Menneskene, og saa at maatte tilstaae, at man kun kan tale om dem, som ingen Veiledning behøve, fordi de nu engang ere saa fuldkomne, som Talen lyder paa. Men til hvem taler man saa, hvo er det saa, der skal have Gavn af denne Tale, der i det Høieste har nogle Enkelte, om hvem den taler – dersom det ellers er saa, at der er saadanne Enkelte til.

Close English

In the world one often hears an enthusiastic and enkindling discourse about love, about faith and hope, about goodness of heart—in short, about all the determinations of spirit—a discourse that depicts in the most glowing expressions, with the most glowing colours, and carries one away. And yet such a discourse is really and truly a painted wall; upon closer and more earnest inspection it is a deception, since it must either flatter the hearer or mock him. At times Christian discourses are also heard whose whole secret is this enthusiasm—deceptive when regarded as discourse and guidance.

For when such a discourse has been heard and a human being now quite simply and honestly—for it is precisely honesty to wish to act according to what one is told and to arrange one’s life accordingly—asks, “What, then, shall I do? How shall I make love flame in me in this way?”, the speaker must really answer: “That is a peculiar question. In the one in whom love and faith and hope and goodness of heart are found, these are present in the manner described; but the one in whom they are not found cannot be helped by being spoken to.” Peculiar! One would nevertheless think it was especially important that those who are not this way should be spoken to—so that they might become this way.

But here lies precisely the deception in the illusion: to speak as though one wished to guide human beings and then to have to admit that one can speak only about those who need no guidance because they happen already to be as perfect as the discourse declares. But then to whom does one speak? Who, then, is to benefit from this discourse, which at most has a few individuals about whom it speaks—if indeed such individuals exist?

Danish

Men skulde saadant Digt og Tant ogsaa være Christendom? Saa er det da en Feil af den oprindelige Christendom, at den i Talen om Retfærdighed og Reenhed bestandigt henvender sig til Syndere og Toldere, som dog vel ikke ere retfærdige! Saa skulde Christendommen jo, istedenfor saa spydigt at tale om de Retfærdige, der ikke have Omvendelse behov, rigtigere have pyntet sig ud til en Lovtale over – de Retfærdige! Men skal dette gjøres, saa faaer Christendommen ikke blot Ingen at tale til, ak, men heller Ingen at tale om; det er, saa er Christendommen bragt til at forstumme. Nei, Christendommen har mindst af Alt anmeldt sig som en Lovtale, og har aldrig befattet sig med at beskrive eller dvæle ved, hvorledes et Menneske nu engang er; den har aldrig gjort Forskjel mellem Menneskene, saa den kun kunde tale om dem, som nu eengang ere saa lykkelige, at være saa kjerlige. Christendommen begynder strax med, hvad ethvert Menneske skal vorde. Derfor kalder Christendommen sig en Veiledning, og med Rette; thi Ingen skal forgjeves spørge Christus, som er Veien, eller Skriften, som er Veiledningen, om, hvad han skal gjøre: Spørgeren skal strax faae det at vide – hvis han selv vil.

Close English

But should such poetic fancy and trifling also be Christianity? Then it must be a mistake of original Christianity that in speaking about righteousness and purity it continually addresses sinners and tax collectors, who are presumably not righteous! Then Christianity, instead of speaking so cuttingly about the righteous who have no need of repentance, ought more properly to have adorned itself for a eulogy upon—the righteous! But if this is to be done, Christianity has not only no one to speak to—alas—but also no one to speak about; that is, Christianity is brought to silence.

No, Christianity least of all has announced itself as a eulogy, and it has never occupied itself with describing or dwelling upon how a human being happens already to be. It has never made a distinction among human beings so that it could speak only about those who happen to be fortunate enough to be so loving. Christianity begins at once with what every human being shall become. Christianity therefore calls itself a guidance, and rightly so; for no one shall ask Christ, who is the way, or Scripture, which is the guidance, in vain about what he shall do. The questioner shall learn it at once—if he himself wills it.

Danish

Dette for at forebygge Misforstaaelse. Enhver, der ikke vil fatte Talen om, hvad man skal gjøre i Forhold til Kjerlighed, at der sandeligen er Meget eller rettere Alt at gjøre baade for at erhverve den og for at bevare den: han har stillet sig udenfor Christendommen, han er en Hedning, som beundrer det Lykkelige, altsaa det Tilfældige, men just derfor famler i Mørke – mon det vel ogsaa bliver lysere om En, hvor mange Lygtemænd der end gøgle!

Close English

This is to forestall misunderstanding. Anyone who will not understand the discourse about what one shall do in relation to love—that there is truly much, or rather everything, to do both to acquire it and to preserve it—has placed himself outside Christianity. He is a pagan who admires what is fortunate, thus what is accidental, but for that very reason gropes in the dark. Does it really grow any lighter around a person, however many will-o’-the-wisps play their tricks!

Danish

Der er altsaa Noget at gjøre, og hvad maa der nu gjøres for at blive i Kjerlighedens Gjeld til hverandre? Naar Fiskeren har fanget en Fisk, og han ønsker at bevare den levende, hvad maa han saa gjøre? Han maa strax sætte den i Vand, ellers bliver den mat og døer efter længere eller kortere Tids Forløb. Og hvorfor maa han sætte den i Vand? Fordi Vand er Fiskens Element, og Alt hvad der skal bevares levende maa bevares i sit Element; men Kjerlighedens Element er Uendelighed, Uudtømmelighed, Umaalelighed. Dersom Du derfor vil bevare Din Kjerlighed, da maa Du passe paa, at den ved Hjælp af Gjeldens Uendelighed, fangen til Frihed og Liv, bestandig bliver i sit Element, ellers sygner den hen og døer – ikke efter længere eller kortere Tids Forløb, thi den døer strax, hvilket just er et Tegn paa dens Fuldkommenhed, at den ene kan leve i Uendeligheden.

Close English

There is, then, something to do; and what must now be done in order to remain in love’s debt to one another? When the fisherman has caught a fish and wishes to preserve it alive, what must he do? He must immediately put it in water; otherwise it becomes faint and dies after a longer or shorter passage of time. And why must he put it in water? Because water is the fish’s element, and everything that is to be preserved alive must be preserved in its element. But love’s element is infinitude, inexhaustibility, immeasurability.

Therefore, if you wish to preserve your love, you must take care that, with the aid of the debt’s infinitude—caught for freedom and life—it continually remains in its element. Otherwise it languishes and dies—not after a longer or shorter passage of time, for it dies at once. This is precisely a sign of its perfection: that it can live only in infinitude.

Danish

At Kjerlighedens Element er Uendelighed, Uudtømmelighed, Umaalelighed, vil vist Ingen negte, det er og let at indsee. Antag, vi kunne jo antage det, at et Tjeneste-Menneske eller et Menneske, hvis Arbeide og Uleilighed Du kan betale, gjør nøiagtigt aldeles det Samme for Dig som den Kjerlige, saa der altsaa mellem Summen af deres Gjerninger og Tjenester ikke er den mindste Forskjel for Forstanden at opdage: dog, dog bliver der en uendelig Forskjel, en Umaalelighedens Forskjel. Der er nemlig bestandigt i det ene Tilfælde en Tilgift, som, besynderligt nok, er uendeligt meget mere værd end Det, hvortil den forholder sig som Tilgift. Dette er dog vel just Begrebet »Umaalelighed«! I Alt hvad den Kjerlige gjør for Dig, i den mindste Ubetydelighed som i den største Opoffrelse, giver han bestandigt Kjerligheden med, og derved bliver den mindste Tjeneste, som Du i Forhold til et Tjeneste-Menneske neppe vilde finde værd at regne med, umaalelig. – Eller tænk Dig, et Menneske fik det Indfald at ville forsøge, om han ikke, uden at elske det andet Menneske, dog, fordi han nu saa vilde det (altsaa for Forsøgets Skyld – ikke for Pligtens Skyld), kunde være, som vi sige, ligesaa uudtømmelig i Opoffrelser, i Tjenester, i Hengivenheds-Yttringer som Den, der elskede dette samme Menneske: Du seer let, han naaer det ikke, der bliver tvertimod en Umaalelighedens Forskjel mellem de Tvende. Den, der virkeligt elsker, har bestandigt et Forspring, og et uendeligt Forspring; thi hver Gang den Anden har udgrundet, beregnet, opfundet en ny Yttring af Hengivenhed, har den Kjerlige allerede udført den, fordi den Kjerlige ingen Beregning behøver, og altsaa heller ikke spilder noget Beregningens Øieblik.

Close English

That love’s element is infinitude, inexhaustibility, immeasurability, surely no one will deny; it is also easy to see. Suppose—we can indeed suppose it—that a servant or a person whose labour and trouble you can pay for does precisely and altogether the same for you as the loving person, so that between the sum of their deeds and services there is not the slightest difference for the understanding to discover. Nevertheless, nevertheless there remains an infinite difference, a difference of immeasurability. For in the one case there is continually an addition which, peculiarly enough, is infinitely more valuable than that to which it is related as an addition. Yet this is surely precisely the concept of “immeasurability”!

In everything the loving person does for you, in the smallest trifle as in the greatest sacrifice, he continually gives love along with it; and thereby the smallest service—which in relation to a servant you would scarcely find worth taking into account—becomes immeasurable.

Or imagine that the idea occurred to a human being to try whether, without loving the other person, he nevertheless, because he now willed it so—thus for the sake of the experiment, not for the sake of duty—could be, as we say, just as inexhaustible in sacrifices, in services, in expressions of devotion, as the one who loved this same person. You readily see that he does not attain it; on the contrary, there remains a difference of immeasurability between the two. The one who truly loves continually has a head start, and an infinite head start; for each time the other has fathomed, calculated, invented a new expression of devotion, the loving person has already carried it out, because the loving person needs no calculation and therefore does not waste even calculation’s moment.

Danish

Men det at være og forblive i en uendelig Gjeld, det er netop et Udtryk for Kjerlighedens Uendelighed, saa den ved at blive i Gjelden bliver i sit Element. Der er her et Vexel-Forhold, men uendeligt fra begge Sider. I det ene Tilfælde er det den Elskede, der i hver en Yttring af den Elskendes Kjerlighed kjerligt fatter Umaaleligheden; i det andet Tilfælde er det den Elskende, der føler Umaaleligheden, fordi han erkjender Gjelden at være uendelig: det er Eet og det Samme, der er uendeligt stort og uendeligt lille. Kjerlighedens Gjenstand tilstaaer i Kjerlighed, at den Elskende ved det Mindste gjør uendeligt mere end alle Andre ved alle de største Opoffrelser; og den Elskende tilstaaer sig selv, at han ved alle mulige Opoffrelser gjør uendeligt mindre, end han fornemmer Gjelden at være. Hvilket vidunderligt Lige for Lige i dette Uendelige! O, de Lærde ere stolte af det Uendeliges Beregning, men her er de Vises Steen: den mindste Yttring er uendeligt større end alle Opoffrelser, og alle Opoffrelser uendeligt mindre end det Mindste til at afdrage paa Gjelden!

Close English

But to be and remain in an infinite debt is precisely an expression of love’s infinitude, so that by remaining in the debt it remains in its element. Here there is a reciprocal relation, but infinite from both sides. In the one case it is the beloved who, in every expression of the lover’s love, lovingly apprehends the immeasurability; in the other case it is the lover who feels the immeasurability because he acknowledges the debt to be infinite. It is one and the same thing that is infinitely great and infinitely small.

Love’s object lovingly admits that in the least thing the lover does infinitely more than all others do in all the greatest sacrifices; and the lover admits to himself that by every possible sacrifice he does infinitely less than he feels the debt to be. What a wondrous like-for-like in this infinite! Oh, the learned are proud of calculating the infinite, but here is the philosophers’ stone: the least expression is infinitely greater than every sacrifice, and every sacrifice infinitely less than the least thing toward paying down the debt!

Danish

Men hvad kan nu bringe Kjerligheden ud af sit Element? Saasnart Kjerligheden dvæler ved sig selv, er den ude af sit Element. Hvad vil det sige at dvæle ved sig selv? Det er at blive sig selv Gjenstand. Men en Gjenstand er altid en farlig Sag, naar man skal bevæge sig fremad; en Gjenstand er som et endeligt fast Punkt, som Grændse og Standsning, en farlig Sag for Uendelighed. Uendeligt kan det nemlig ikke være, at Kjerligheden bliver sig selv Gjenstand, deri er heller ei Fare. Thi uendeligt at være sig selv sin Gjenstand er at blive i Uendeligheden, og forsaavidt blot at være til eller at vedblive at være til, da Kjerlighed er en Fordoblelse i sig selv, forskjellig som Natur-Livets Enkelthed er fra Aandens Fordoblelse. Det maa da altsaa, naar Kjerligheden dvæler ved sig selv, være i sin den enkelte Yttring, at den bliver sig selv Gjenstand, eller at en anden særskilt Kjerlighed bliver Gjenstanden, Kjerligheden i det ene Menneske og Kjerligheden i det andet Menneske. Naar Gjenstanden saaledes er en endelig, dvæler Kjerligheden ved sig selv; thi uendeligt at dvæle ved sig selv er just at bevæge sig. Men naar Kjerligheden endeligt dvæler ved sig selv, er Alt tabt. Tænk Dig en Piil, der fløi, som det hedder, med Pilens Fart, tænk Dig, at den et Øieblik fik det Indfald, at ville dvæle ved sig selv, maaskee for at see, hvor langt den var kommen, eller hvor høit den svævede over Jorden, eller hvorledes dens Fart forholdt sig til en anden Piils, som ogsaa fløi med Pilens Fart: i samme Secund falder Pilen til Jorden.

Close English

But what, then, can bring love out of its element? As soon as love dwells upon itself, it is out of its element. What does it mean to dwell upon itself? It is to become an object to itself. But an object is always a dangerous thing when one is to move forward; an object is like a finite fixed point, like a boundary and a stopping—a dangerous thing for infinitude. It cannot, namely, be in an infinite sense that love becomes its own object; nor is there danger in that. For infinitely to be its own object is to remain in infinitude and, in this respect, merely to exist or continue to exist, since love is a redoubling in itself, as distinct as the singleness of natural life is from spirit’s redoubling.

Therefore, when love dwells upon itself, it must be in its particular single expression that it becomes its own object, or else another particular love becomes the object: love in the one human being and love in the other. When the object is finite in this way, love dwells upon itself; for to dwell infinitely upon itself is precisely to move. But when love dwells finitely upon itself, everything is lost.

Imagine an arrow flying, as the phrase goes, with the speed of an arrow. Imagine that for a moment it got the idea of wishing to dwell upon itself, perhaps to see how far it had come, or how high it hovered above the earth, or how its speed compared with that of another arrow also flying with the speed of an arrow. In that same second the arrow falls to the ground.

Danish

Saaledes ogsaa med Kjerligheden, naar den endeligt dvæler ved sig selv eller bliver sig selv Gjenstand, hvilket nøiagtigere bestemmet er Sammenligningen. Uendeligt sammenligne sig med sig selv kan Kjerligheden ikke, thi uendeligt ligner den saaledes sig selv, at dette blot vil sige den er sig selv; der er i den uendelige Sammenligning intet Tredie, det er en Fordoblelse, altsaa er det ingen Sammenligning. Til al Sammenligning hører det Tredie, samt Lighed og Ulighed. Naar der ingen Dvælen er, er der ingen Sammenligning, naar der ingen Sammenligning er, er der heller ingen Dvælen.

Close English

So too with love when it finitely dwells upon itself or becomes its own object, which more precisely determined is comparison. Love cannot infinitely compare itself with itself, for infinitely it resembles itself in such a way that this simply means it is itself. In the infinite comparison there is no third term; it is a redoubling and therefore is no comparison. Every comparison involves the third term, as well as likeness and unlikeness. When there is no dwelling, there is no comparison; when there is no comparison, neither is there any dwelling.

Danish

Men hvad kan nu Sammenligningens Tredie være? Kjerligheden i det enkelte Menneske kan sammenligne sig med Kjerligheden i Andre. Saa opdager han, eller mener at opdage, at Kjerligheden i ham er større end i Andre, eller at den i enkelte Andre er større, men saa igjen mindre i Andre. Han meente maaskee først selv, at det blot var et flygtigt Sideblik i Forbigaaende, som hverken krævede nogen Tid eller nogen Anstrengelse; ak, men Sammenligningens Sideblik opdager kun altfor let en heel Verden af Forhold og Beregninger. Dette er Standsningen, i samme Øieblik er han ifærd med at komme ud af Gjelden, eller allerede maaskee ude af den – det er ude af Kjerligheden. – Eller Sammenligningens Tredie kan være de af Kjerligheden hidtil udførte Gjerninger. I samme Øieblik er han, tællende og veiende, ifærd med at komme ud af Gjelden, eller maaskee allerede, i stor Selvtilfredshed, mere end ude af Gjelden – det er mere end ude af Kjerligheden.

Close English

But what, then, can comparison’s third term be? Love in the single human being can compare itself with love in others. Then he discovers, or thinks he discovers, that the love in him is greater than in others, or that in some others it is greater but then again less in still others. He himself perhaps thought at first that it was merely a fleeting side-glance in passing, requiring neither time nor effort. Alas, but comparison’s side-glance all too easily discovers a whole world of relations and calculations. This is the stopping. In that same moment he is in the process of coming out of the debt, or perhaps already out of it—which is to be out of love.

Or comparison’s third term may be the deeds love has performed up to now. In that same moment, counting and weighing, he is in the process of coming out of the debt, or perhaps already, in great self-satisfaction, more than out of the debt—which is to be more than out of love.

Danish

I Sammenligningen er Alt tabt, Kjerligheden endeliggjort, Gjelden til at betale – ganske som enhver anden Gjeld, istedenfor at som Æres-Gjeld har den Egenskab, at man først og fremmest, jo før jo hellere, maa see at komme ud af den, saa har Kjerlighedens Gjeld den Egenskab, at den er uendelig. Hvad taber Sammenligning altid? Den taber Øieblikket, det Øieblik, som skulde være udfyldt med en Yttring af Kjerlighedens Liv. Men at tabe Øieblikket er at blive øieblikkelig. Et Øieblik tabt, saa er Evighedens Kjæde brudt, et Øieblik tabt, saa er Evighedens Sammenhæng forstyrret, et Øieblik tabt, saa er det Evige tabt; men at tabe det Evige er jo just at blive øieblikkelig. Et Øieblik spildt paa Sammenligning, saa er Alt forspildt. Sammenligningens Øieblik er nemlig et selvisk Øieblik, et Øieblik, der vil være for sig; just dette er Bruddet, er Faldet – som det er Pilens Fald at dvæle ved sig selv.

Close English

In comparison everything is lost: love is made finite, the debt payable. Quite unlike a debt of honour, which has the characteristic of every other debt—that first and foremost, the sooner the better, one must see to getting out of it—love’s debt has the characteristic that it is infinite.

What does comparison always lose? It loses the moment, the moment that should have been filled with an expression of love’s life. But to lose the moment is to become momentary. One moment lost, and eternity’s chain is broken; one moment lost, and eternity’s coherence is destroyed; one moment lost, and the eternal is lost. Yet to lose the eternal is precisely to become momentary. One moment wasted upon comparison, and everything is forfeited. For comparison’s moment is a self-seeking moment, a moment that wills to be for itself. Precisely this is the breach, is the fall—just as it is the arrow’s fall to dwell upon itself.

Danish

I Sammenligningen er Alt tabt, Kjerligheden endeliggjort, Gjelden til at betale, ligegyldigt hvilken Plads, om det saa var den øverste, Kjerligheden sammenlignelsesviis mener at indtage i Forhold til Andres Kjerlighed, eller i Forhold til sine egne Bedrifter. Lad os forstaae hinanden. Hvis det i Sandhed var saa, vi kunne jo et Øieblik antage det, at det for Kongens Søn var uværdigt og usømmeligt at omgaaes den simple Mand – dersom han da gjorde det alligevel, og nu til sit Forsvar sagde »jeg opgiver ingenlunde min Værdighed, jeg skal vel vide at gjøre mig gjeldende som den første ogsaa blandt disse Mennesker«: mon da ikke den fine Hofmand vilde sige »Deres Høihed, dette er en Misforstaaelse; det Usømmelige ligger i at omgaaes saadanne Mennesker; Deres Høihed vil jo selv føle, at det lyder som en Spot, naar der siges om Dem, Fyrsten, at De er den Første blandt disse simple Mennesker. Indenfor Sammenligningen er Intet at vinde, næsten mindst ved at være den første indenfor; thi Forholdet selv, Sammenligningens Mulighed er Feiltrinet, og kun det at blive udenfor er den kongelige Værdighed.« Dog dette er jo blot en Spøg. Men naar hvad der er og skal være uendeligt søger Omgangens og Sammenligningens slette Selskab med det Endelige, saa er dette usømmeligt, uværdigt, saa er Nedværdigelsen forskyldt, selv om man indenfor Sammenligningen mener at være den første. Thi, om det saa og var sandt, sammenlignelsesviis at elske mere end alle andre Mennesker er: ikke at elske. At elske er at blive i den uendelige Gjeld, Gjeldens Uendelighed er Fuldkommenhedens Baand.

Close English

In comparison everything is lost: love is made finite, the debt payable—regardless of what place, even if it were the highest, love comparatively thinks it occupies in relation to the love of others or to its own achievements. Let us understand one another. If it were in truth the case—we can indeed suppose it for a moment—that it was unworthy and improper for the king’s son to associate with the common man, but he did so nevertheless and now said in his defence, “I by no means give up my dignity; I shall know how to assert myself as the first also among these people”, would the refined courtier not say: “Your Highness, this is a misunderstanding. The impropriety lies in associating with such people. Your Highness will yourself feel that it sounds like mockery when it is said of you, the prince, that you are first among these common people. Within comparison there is nothing to be gained, almost least of all by being first within it; for the relation itself, the possibility of comparison, is the false step, and only remaining outside is royal dignity.”

Yet this is of course only a jest. But when that which is and shall be infinite seeks the bad company of association and comparison with the finite, this is improper, unworthy; then the degradation has been deserved, even if one thinks oneself first within the comparison. For even if it were true, comparatively to love more than all other human beings is—not to love. To love is to remain in the infinite debt; the debt’s infinitude is the bond of perfection.

Danish

Lad mig oplyse dette Samme ved at tale om et andet Uendelighedens Forhold. Tænk Dig en Begeistret, der begeistret kun vil Eet og begeistret vil offre Alt for det Gode, tænk Dig, at det nu hænder ham (hvad da ikke hænder tilfældigviis, men ubetinget vil hænde, saa længe Verden er Verden), at i samme Grad som han arbeider mere og mere uegennyttigt, mere og mere opoffrende, mere og mere anstrenget, i samme Grad arbeider Verden ham mere og mere imod, tænk Dig ham paa denne Spidse – hvis han et eneste Øieblik seer feil og sammenligner sin Stræben med Verdens Løn, eller seer feil og sammenligner sin Stræben med den hidtil udførte Bedrift, eller seer feil og sammenligner sit Lod med deres Udmærkelse, som just ikke synes at brænde af Begeistring: ak, saa er han tabt. Dog Fristeren træder til ham og siger »stands Din Arbeiden, mindsk Anstrengelsen, hav gode Dage, nyd Livet i Magelighed, og tag mod det smigrende Vilkaar, som bydes Dig, at være En af de meest Begeistrede« – thi Fristeren taler ikke ilde om Begeistring, saa klog er Fristeren nok, saa narrer man heller ikke Menneskene saa let til at lade den fare. Imidlertid vil han ikke give efter for Fristeren, han fornyer sin Anstrengelse. Da træder Fristeren atter til ham og siger »stands Din Arbeiden, mindsk Anstrengelsen, hav gode Dage, nyd Livet i Magelighed, ved at tage mod det ubetinget meest smigrende Vilkaar, som rigtignok ogsaa kun kan bydes Dig, at være den meest Begeistrede, et Vilkaar, der jo gjør Dig Livet lettere og skaffer Dig, den Begeistrede, Verdens Beundring, medens Du jo kun gjør Dig Livet anstrenget og derved vinder Verdens Modstand.« Ak, sammenlignelsesviis at være den meest Begeistrede er netop: ikke at være begeistret. Vee det Menneske, som har fordærvet sin Sjel i Sammenligningens Besmittelse, saa han ikke kan forstaae det Næste uden som en uhyre Stolthed og Forfængelighed. Thi den Begeistrede siger til Fristeren »viig bort og tag Sammenligningen med Dig.« Og dette er just det Rigtige. See, derfor tilraabe vi en Begeistret »luk Dit Øie, stop Øret, hold Dig til Uendelighedens Fordring, da skal ingen Sammenligning snige sig ind til at snigmyrde Din Begeistring derved, at Du blev den meest Begeistrede – sammenlignelsesviis! For Uendelighedens Fordring er selv Din den største Anstrengelse et Barneværk, ved hvilket Du ikke skal kunne blive Dig selv vigtig, da Du just kommer til at forstaae, hvor uendeligt meget Mere der fordres af Dig.« Vi advare Den, som staaer paa Skibet, der farer frem med Stormens Fart, at han ikke seer i Bølgerne, thi saa bliver han svimmel: saaledes gjør Sammenligning mellem Uendelighed og Endelighed et Menneske svimmel. Vogt Dig derfor for Sammenligningen, som Verden vil paanøde Dig, thi Verden forstaaer sig ikke mere paa Begeistring end en Pengemand paa Kjerlighed, og Du skal altid finde, at Dvaskhed og Dumhed først af Alt er betænkt paa at sammenligne, og paa at fange Alt i Sammenligningens muddrede »Virkelighed«. See Dig derfor ikke om, »hils Ingen paa Veien« (Luc. 10, 4.), hør ikke Raabet og Tilraabet, som vil narre Dig Din Begeistring fra og narre dens Kraft til at arbeide i Sammenlignelsens Trædemølle. Lad det ikke forstyrre Dig, at Verden kalder Din Begeistring Galskab, kalder den Selvkjerlighed – i Evigheden skal Enhver blive nødsaget til at forstaae, hvad Begeistring og Kjerlighed er. Tag ikke mod Vilkaaret, som bydes Dig: for halv Arbeide at faae Verdens hele Beundring; bliv i Uendelighedens Gjeld, glad ved Vilkaaret: Verdens Modstand, fordi Du ikke vil tinge. Hør ikke, thi det er allerede for sildigt: ikke at troe det, hør ikke, hvad der løgnagtigt siges om Begeistring paa anden Haand, hør det ikke, at Du ikke ogsaa paa en anden Maade skal tage Skade ved at troe det, som var ikke ethvert Menneske, der vil det, Uendeligheden lige nær, og altsaa lige nær til at blive begeistret. Thi hvad er Begeistring, mon vel blot at ville gjøre og lide Alt, mon ikke tillige derhos bestandigt at ville blive i Uendelighedens Gjeld? For hver Gang Pilen skal fare frem, maa Buestrengen strammes, men for hver Gang Begeistringen fornyer eller i Fornyelsen bevarer sin Fart, maa Gjeldens Uendelighed betænkes.

Close English

Let me illuminate this same point by speaking about another relation of infinitude. Imagine an enthusiast who enthusiastically wills only one thing and enthusiastically wills to sacrifice everything for the good. Imagine that it now happens to him—not accidentally, but as it unconditionally will happen as long as the world is the world—that in the same degree as he works more and more unselfishly, more and more sacrificially, with more and more exertion, the world works more and more against him. Imagine him at this extremity. If for a single moment he looks wrongly and compares his striving with the world’s reward, or looks wrongly and compares his striving with the achievement performed so far, or looks wrongly and compares his lot with the distinction enjoyed by those who do not exactly seem to burn with enthusiasm—alas, then he is lost.

Yet the tempter approaches him and says: “Stop your work, lessen the exertion, have good days, enjoy life in comfort, and accept the flattering condition offered to you: to be one of the most enthusiastic.” For the tempter does not speak badly of enthusiasm; the tempter is clever enough for that, and one does not so easily trick human beings into abandoning it. Meanwhile he will not yield to the tempter; he renews his exertion. Then the tempter approaches him again and says: “Stop your work, lessen the exertion, have good days, enjoy life in comfort by accepting the unconditionally most flattering condition—which admittedly can be offered only to you—to be the most enthusiastic. This condition makes life easier for you and secures for you, the enthusiast, the world’s admiration, whereas you merely make your life strenuous and thereby win the world’s opposition.” Alas, comparatively to be the most enthusiastic is precisely—not to be enthusiastic.

Woe to the human being who has corrupted his soul in comparison’s contamination, so that he cannot understand what follows except as monstrous pride and vanity. For the enthusiast says to the tempter: “Go away, and take comparison with you.” And this is precisely right. See, therefore we call out to an enthusiast: “Close your eye, stop your ear, hold fast to infinitude’s demand; then no comparison shall creep in to assassinate your enthusiasm by making you the most enthusiastic—comparatively! For before infinitude’s demand even your greatest exertion is child’s play, by which you shall not be able to make yourself important, since you come precisely to understand how infinitely much more is demanded of you.”

We warn the person standing on a ship that rushes forward with the speed of the storm not to look into the waves, for then he becomes dizzy. In the same way, comparison between infinitude and finitude makes a human being dizzy. Guard yourself, therefore, against the comparison the world seeks to impose upon you; for the world understands enthusiasm no better than a money-man understands love. You shall always find that sluggishness and stupidity are concerned first of all to compare and to catch everything in comparison’s muddy “actuality”. Therefore do not look around; “greet no one on the road” (Luke 10:4). Do not listen to the shouting and calling that would cheat you of your enthusiasm and trick its power into working on comparison’s treadmill. Do not let it disturb you that the world calls your enthusiasm madness, calls it self-love—in eternity everyone shall be compelled to understand what enthusiasm and love are. Do not accept the condition offered to you: to receive the world’s entire admiration for half the work. Remain in infinitude’s debt, glad under the condition of the world’s opposition, because you will not bargain.

Do not listen, for once you have heard it, it is already too late simply not to believe it. Do not listen to what is falsely said at second hand about enthusiasm; do not listen, lest in another way too you suffer harm by believing it—as though every human being who wills it were not equally near to infinitude, and thus equally near to becoming enthusiastic. For what is enthusiasm? Is it merely to will to do and suffer everything? Is it not also continually to will to remain in infinitude’s debt? Each time the arrow is to fly forward, the bowstring must be tightened; but each time enthusiasm renews its speed, or preserves its speed in renewal, the debt’s infinitude must be held in mind.

Danish

Saaledes ogsaa med Kjerlighed. Vil Du bevare Kjerligheden, da maa Du bevare den i Gjeldens Uendelighed. Vogt Dig derfor for Sammenligning. O, Den, som vogter al Verdens kostbareste Skat, behøver dog ikke at vaage saa omhyggeligt over, at Ingen faaer Noget at vide derom; thi Du maa tillige vogte paa, at Du ikke selv ved Sammenligning faaer Noget at vide om Kjerligheden. Vogt dig for Sammenligning! Sammenligning er den usaligste Forbindelse, i hvilken Kjerlighed kan indtræde; Sammenligning er det farligste Bekjendtskab, Kjerlighed kan stifte; Sammenligning er den værste af alle Forførelser. Og ingen Forfører er saa hurtig ved Haanden, og ingen Forfører er saaledes allevegne tilstede som Sammenligningen, saasnart Dit Sideblik vinker – dog sige ingen Forført til sit Forsvar »Sammenligningen forførte mig«, thi det var jo ham selv, som opdagede Sammenligningen. Det er bekjendt nok, hvor angest, hvor unyttigt og dog hvor frygteligt anstrenget et Menneske gaaer, naar han veed han gaaer paa den glatte Iis; men det er ogsaa bekjendt nok, at et Menneske træder ganske sikkert og fast paa den glatte Iis, naar han ved Mørket eller paa anden Maade er forbleven uvidende om, at han gaaer paa den glatte Iis. Vogt Dig derfor for at opdage Sammenligningen. Sammenligningen er det usunde Skud, der tager Væxten fra Træet: forbandet bliver Træet en vissen Skygge, men det usunde Skud voxer i usund Trivelighed. Sammenligning er som Naboens fugtige Grund; selv om Dit Huus ikke er bygget derpaa, det synker alligevel. Sammenligning er som den hemmelige Tærings skjulte Orm, der ikke døer, idetmindste ikke før den har faaet Livet af Kjerligheden. Sammenligning er et væmmeligt Udslæt, som er slaaet ind og æder ved Marven. Vogt Dig derfor i Din Kjerlighed for Sammenligning.

Close English

So too with love. If you will preserve love, then you must preserve it in the debt’s infinitude. Guard yourself, therefore, against comparison. Oh, the person who guards the most costly treasure in all the world does not need to watch so carefully that no one learns anything about it; for you must also watch that you yourself do not, by comparison, learn anything about love. Guard yourself against comparison! Comparison is the most ruinous connection love can enter; comparison is the most dangerous acquaintance love can make; comparison is the worst of all seductions. And no seducer is so quick at hand, and no seducer is thus everywhere present, as comparison, as soon as your side-glance beckons. Yet let no seduced person say in his defence, “Comparison seduced me”, for it was he himself who discovered comparison.

It is well enough known how anxiously, how ineffectually and yet with what dreadful exertion a human being walks when he knows he is walking upon slippery ice. But it is also well enough known that a human being steps quite securely and firmly upon slippery ice when, because of darkness or in some other way, he has remained unaware that he is walking on slippery ice. Guard yourself, therefore, against discovering comparison.

Comparison is the unhealthy shoot that takes growth from the tree: under the curse the tree becomes a withered shadow, while the unhealthy shoot grows with unhealthy vigour. Comparison is like the neighbour’s damp ground: even if your house is not built upon it, it sinks nevertheless. Comparison is like the hidden worm of secret consumption, which does not die—at least not before it has taken the life out of love. Comparison is a loathsome rash driven inward that eats at the marrow. Guard your love, therefore, against comparison.

Danish

Men naar Sammenligning er det Eneste, som kunde bringe Kjerligheden ud af Gjelden eller ifærd med at komme ud af Gjelden, og Sammenligningen undgaaes, saa bliver Kjerligheden, sund og levende – i den uendelige Gjeld. At forblive i Gjelden er et uendelig underfundigt og dog uendelig fyldestgjørende Udtryk for Kjerlighedens Uendelighed. Naar man siger om en Naturkraft, f. Ex. at den stormer frem med en uendelig Fart, eller at den bryder frem med en uendelig Kraft og Rigdom, saa synes det bestandigt som var det dog muligt, at den engang maatte standse eller blive udtømt. Men hvad der, uendeligt i sig selv, tillige har en uendelig Gjeld bag ved sig, det er anden Gang uendeliggjort, det har i sig selv Paapasseren, der bestandigt passer paa, at det ikke standser – Gjelden er anden Gang det Fremskyndende.

Close English

But when comparison is the only thing that could bring love out of the debt, or into the process of coming out of the debt, and comparison is avoided, then love remains, healthy and living—in the infinite debt. To remain in the debt is an infinitely subtle and yet infinitely adequate expression of love’s infinitude. When one says of a force of nature, for example, that it storms forward with an infinite speed or bursts forth with an infinite power and richness, it continually seems as though it were nevertheless possible that it must one day stop or become exhausted. But that which, infinite in itself, also has an infinite debt behind it is made infinite a second time. It has within itself the overseer who continually watches that it does not stop—the debt is the second propelling force.

Danish

Naar det er Pligt at blive i Kjerlighedens Gjeld til hverandre, saa er det at blive i Gjelden ikke et sværmerisk Udtryk, ikke en Forestilling om Kjerligheden, men Handling, saa bliver Kjerligheden, ved Pligtens Hjælp, christeligt, i Handling, i Handlingens Fart og just derved i den uendelige Gjeld.

Close English

When it is a duty to remain in love’s debt to one another, then remaining in the debt is not a rapturous expression, not a conception of love, but action. Then, with duty’s help, love remains in a Christian way in action, in action’s speed, and precisely thereby in the infinite debt.

Danish

At elske er at være kommen i en uendelig Gjeld. Ønsket at blive i Gjelden kunde synes blot at være en Opfattelse af, en Forestilling om Kjerligheden, et sidste, det meest overvættes Udtryk, der hørte med – som Krandsen ved Festlighed. Thi selv det kostbareste Bæger, fyldt med den kosteligste Drik – der mangler dog Noget: at Bægeret bekrandses! Og selv den elskeligste Sjel i den deiligste Qvindes Skikkelse – der mangler dog Noget: Krandsen, som fuldender! Saaledes maa der ogsaa tales, naar der tales blot menneskeligt om Kjerligheden: dette Ønske, at blive i Gjelden, er Festlighedens Høieste, er Krandsen ved Festligheden, Noget, der i en vis Forstand hverken gjør fra eller til (thi man drikker dog vel ikke det bekrandsede Bæger, ei heller voxer Krandsen sammen med Bruden), og netop derfor er det skjønne Sværmeries Udtryk. Blot menneskeligt er skjønt Sværmerie det Høieste.

Close English

To love is to have entered an infinite debt. The wish to remain in the debt could seem to be merely an apprehension of love, a conception of love, a final and most extravagant expression that also belonged with it—like the wreath at a festivity. For even the most costly cup, filled with the most precious drink—something is nevertheless missing: that the cup should be wreathed! And even the most lovable soul in the form of the most beautiful woman—something is nevertheless missing: the wreath that completes! Thus too one must speak when one speaks merely humanly about love. This wish to remain in the debt is the festivity’s highest point, the wreath at the festivity—something that in a certain sense makes no difference either way, for one presumably does not drink the wreathed cup, nor does the wreath grow together with the bride—and precisely for that reason it is the expression of beautiful rapture. Merely humanly, beautiful rapture is the highest.

Danish

Men Christendommen taler ikke sværmerisk om Kjerlighed; den siger, det er Pligt at blive i Kjerlighedens Gjeld, og siger dette ikke som svimlede Tanken nu for sidste Gang og meest beruset – thi Ønsket, at blive i Gjelden, var et overvættes Udtryk, og dog kunde det synes at blive om muligt endnu mere overvættes ved at være Pligt. Selv det Overvættes har dog, mod dets Villie, et Skin af at afdrage paa Gjelden, men er det Pligt at blive i den, saa er Umuligheden svunget endnu engang høiere. Det kunde synes som i en Beruselse, hvor det pludseligt et Øieblik at blive gjort ganske ædru er en Forøgelse af Berusetheden; thi endnu mere sværmerisk bliver Sværmeriet, naar det siges roligt og besindigt, endnu mere eventyrligt bliver det Eventyrlige, naar det fortælles ganske simpelt som en almindelig Begivenhed. – Men saaledes taler Christendommen ikke; den siger om det, at blive i Gjelden, ganske det Samme, som en ædel menneskelig Kjerlighed siger glødende, men den siger det ganske anderledes. Christendommen gjør slet ingen Ophævelser derover, den bliver ikke, som den blot menneskelige Opfattelse af Kjerlighed, overvældet af Synet, nei, den taler lige saa alvorligt herom, som om hvad der synes den blot menneskelige Begeistring aldeles ueensartet. Den siger det er Pligt, og tager derved alt det Opildnede, alt det Øieblikkelige, alt det Svimlende bort fra Kjerligheden.

Close English

But Christianity does not speak rapturously about love; it says that it is a duty to remain in love’s debt. It does not say this as though thought were now reeling for the last time and at its most intoxicated—for the wish to remain in the debt was an extravagant expression, yet it could appear, if possible, still more extravagant by being a duty. Even the extravagant has, against its will, an appearance of paying down the debt; but if it is a duty to remain in it, then the impossibility has been swung yet once more higher. It could seem like an intoxication in which suddenly, for a moment, being made completely sober is an increase of the intoxication; for rapture becomes still more rapturous when spoken calmly and collectedly, and the marvellous becomes still more like a fairy tale when related quite simply as an ordinary event.

But Christianity does not speak in this way. It says about remaining in debt exactly the same thing that a noble human love says glowingly, but says it in an altogether different way. Christianity makes no fuss at all about it; unlike the merely human conception of love, it is not overwhelmed by the sight. No, it speaks just as earnestly about this as about what seems altogether incongruous to merely human enthusiasm. It says: it is duty—and thereby removes from love everything enkindled, everything momentary, everything dizzying.

Danish

Christendommen siger, det er Pligt at blive i Gjelden, og siger dermed, at det er en Handling, intet Udtryk om, ingen eftertænkende Opfattelse af Kjerligheden. Christeligt forstaaet har intet Menneske i Kjerlighed fuldkommet det Høieste; og selv hvis det var saa, dette Umulige, der vilde dog i samme Øieblik, christeligt forstaaet, være ny Opgave. Men er der i samme Øieblik ny Opgave, saa er det en Umulighed at faae at vide, om man har gjort det Høieste; thi det Øieblik, i hvilket man skulde faae det at vide, er fæstet i Opgavens Tjeneste, og Mennesket altsaa forhindret i at faae Noget at vide om det foregaaende Øieblik, dertil har han ingen Tid, han er beskæftiget, i Handlingens Fart, medens der selv i Sværmeriets Høieste er noget Dvælende.

Close English

Christianity says that it is a duty to remain in the debt and thereby says that it is an action, not an expression about love, not a reflective apprehension of love. Christianly understood, no human being has in love accomplished the highest; and even if this impossibility were so, in that same moment there would nevertheless, Christianly understood, be a new task. But if in that same moment there is a new task, then it is impossible to learn whether one has done the highest; for the moment in which one was to learn it is bound to the task’s service, and the human being is thereby prevented from learning anything about the preceding moment. He has no time for that; he is occupied, at action’s speed, whereas even at rapture’s highest there is something that lingers.

Danish

Christendommen forstaaer sig paa hvad det er at handle, og hvad det er i eet væk med Handling at kunne beskæftige Kjerligheden. Den blot menneskelige Opfattelse af Kjerlighed beundrer Kjerligheden, og derfor kommer der saa let en Stillestaaen, Øieblikke, hvor der Intet er at gjøre, ledige Øieblikke, det er Sværmeriets Øieblikke. Kjerligheden er for den blot menneskelige Opfattelses Forestilling som det overordentlig begavede Barn for de eenfoldige Forældre: Barnet er saa hurtig færdigt med Opgaven, at Forældrene tilsidst ikke veed, hvad de skulle hitte paa for at holde Barnet beskæftiget. Kjerligheden er for den blot menneskelige Opfattelses Forestilling som den fyrige, fnysende Ganger, der hurtigt rider Rytteren træt, istedenfor at Rytteren skulde kunne, hvis det behøvedes, ride Gangeren træt. Og dette kan Christendommen. Dens Mening er ikke at arbeide Kjerligheden træt, o langtfra, men Christendommen veed, i Kraft af sit evige Væsen og med Evighedens Alvor, at den kan magte Kjerligheden, og taler derfor saa simpelt, det er saa alvorligt, om den Sag – ret ligesom den jernstærke Beridder, som veed, han kan tumle Hesten, ikke beundrer dens Fyrighed, men siger, den skal være fyrig, thi han tager ikke Fyrigheden fra Hesten; ved at tvinge Fyrigheden forædler han den blot. Saaledes veed Christendommen at tvinge Kjerligheden, og at lære den, at der i ethvert Øieblik er Opgave, veed at holde ud med Kjerligheden, saa denne ydmyget skal lære, at det er ingen Talemaade, intet Sværmerie med at ville blive i Gjelden, men Alvor og Sandhed.

Close English

Christianity understands what it is to act and what it is to be able, without cease, to keep love occupied with action. The merely human conception of love admires love, and therefore a standstill so easily occurs—moments in which there is nothing to do, idle moments: these are rapture’s moments. To the merely human conception, love is like the extraordinarily gifted child to simple parents: the child finishes the task so quickly that in the end the parents do not know what to devise in order to keep the child occupied. To the merely human conception, love is like the fiery, snorting steed that quickly rides the rider tired, instead of the rider being able, if it were needed, to ride the steed tired.

And Christianity can do this. It does not intend to work love tired—oh, far from it—but Christianity knows, by virtue of its eternal essence and with eternity’s earnestness, that it can master love, and therefore speaks so simply, that is, so earnestly, about the matter. It is just like the iron-strong horseman who knows he can manage the horse: he does not admire its fire but says it shall be fiery, for he does not take the fire away from the horse; by controlling the fire he only ennobles it. Thus Christianity knows how to master love and teach it that in every moment there is a task. It knows how to persevere with love, so that love, humbled, shall learn that willing to remain in the debt is no figure of speech, no rapture, but earnestness and truth.

Danish

Det Farlige var, som viist blev, at Kjerligheden kom til at dvæle sammenlignelsesviis ved sig selv. Dette maa forhindres, men idet det forhindres ved Pligtens Hjælp, skeer der tillige noget Andet, Kjerligheden kommer til at forholde sig til den christelige Forestilling, eller christeligt til Guds Forestillingen; Gjelds-Forholdet overføres til Forholdet mellem Menneske og Gud. Det er Gud, der, saa at sige, kjerligt overtager Kjerlighedens Fordring; den Elskende kommer, ved at elske et Menneske, i en uendelig Gjeld – men igjen til Gud som Værge for den Elskede. Nu er Sammenligning gjort umulig, og nu har Kjerligheden fundet sin Mester. Der er ikke mere Tale om festlig Stemning og stadselig Bedrift; Kjerligheden skal ikke mere, om jeg saa tør sige, spille paa Menneskelighedens barnagtige Skueplads, der lader det tvivlsomt, om det er Spøg eller Alvor. Medens Kjerligheden i alle sine Yttringer vender sig ud ad mod Menneskene, hvor den jo har sin Gjenstand og sine Opgaver, veed den dog, at her er ikke Stedet, hvor den skal bedømmes, men at inderst inde, hvor Kjerligheden forholder sig til Gud, der er Dommen. Det er som naar Barnet er ude blandt Fremmede: Barnet gjør eftersom det er oplært. Men hvad enten de Fremmede synes godt om Barnet eller ikke, hvad enten det forekommer Barnet, at det fører sig bedre op end de andre Børn eller ikke: det alvorligt opdragne Barn glemmer aldrig, at Dommen er hjemme, hvor Forældrene dømme. Og dog er jo Opdragelse ikke beregnet paa, at Barnet skal blive hjemme hos Forældrene, tvertimod paa, at Barnet skal gaae ud i Verden. Saaledes med Kjerligheden, christeligt forstaaet. Det er Gud, der saa at sige opdrager Kjerligheden i et Menneske; men Gud gjør det ikke for selv ligesom at forlyste sig ved dette Syn, tvertimod gjør han det, for saa at sende Kjerligheden ud i Verden, idelig beskæftiget i Opgave. Men den alvorligt opdragne, den christelige Kjerlighed glemmer i intet Øieblik, hvor det er den skal dømmes, nemlig Aften eller Morgen eller naar det ellers er, kort, hver Gang den fra alle sine Opgaver et Øieblik kommer hjem, bliver overhørt – for strax at sendes ud igjen. Thi hos selv det høieste Sværmerie kan Kjerligheden dog dvæle lidt, inden den gaaer ud igjen, men hos Gud er der ingen Dvælen.

Close English

The danger, as was shown, was that love came comparatively to dwell upon itself. This must be prevented; but as it is prevented with duty’s help, something else also happens. Love comes to relate itself to the Christian conception, or Christianly to the conception of God; the debt-relation is transferred to the relation between the human being and God. It is God who, so to speak, lovingly takes over love’s claim. By loving a human being, the lover enters an infinite debt—but in turn to God as the beloved’s guardian. Now comparison has been made impossible, and now love has found its master.

There is no longer talk of a festive mood and a stately achievement. Love shall no longer, if I may put it so, play upon humanity’s childish stage, which leaves it doubtful whether this is jest or earnestness. While love in all its expressions turns outward towards human beings, where it indeed has its object and its tasks, it nevertheless knows that here is not the place where it shall be judged; rather, in the innermost place where love relates itself to God, there is the judgement.

It is as when the child is out among strangers: the child acts as it was brought up to act. But whether the strangers approve of the child or not, whether it seems to the child that it behaves better than the other children or not, the earnestly brought-up child never forgets that the judgement is at home, where the parents judge. And yet upbringing is of course not designed for the child to remain at home with the parents; on the contrary, it is designed for the child to go out into the world.

So too with love, Christianly understood. It is God who, so to speak, brings up love in a human being; but God does not do this in order, as it were, to amuse himself at the sight. On the contrary, he does it in order then to send love out into the world, incessantly occupied in the task. Yet the earnestly brought-up, the Christian love, never for a moment forgets where it is to be judged. Evening or morning or whenever it may be—in short, each time it comes home for a moment from all its tasks, it is examined, only to be sent out again immediately. For even with the highest rapture love can nevertheless linger a little before going out again, but with God there is no lingering.

Danish

See saaledes forstaaet er det Alvor og Sandhed med at blive i Kjerlighedens Gjeld til hverandre. Endog det oprigtigst meente og menneskelig talt ædleste Sværmerie, endog den meest glødende og uegennyttigste Begeistring er dog ikke Alvor, om den end udfører det Forbausende, og om den end tillige ønsker at blive i Gjelden. Det Mangelfulde ved selv den ædleste menneskelige Begeistring er, at den, som blot menneskelig, i sidste Forstand ikke er sig selv mægtig, fordi den ingen høiere Magt har over sig. Kun Guds-Forholdet er Alvor; det Alvorlige er just, at Opgaven tvinges til sit Høieste, fordi der er Den, som tvinger med Evighedens Magt, det Alvorlige er, at Begeistringen har Magt over sig og Tvang paa sig. Den Enkelte er forpligtet i Kjerlighedens Gjeld til andre Mennesker, men det er hverken dette enkelte Menneske selv eller andre Mennesker, som skal bedømme hans Kjerlighed. Naar saa er, maa den Enkelte blive i den uendelige Gjeld. Gud har Sandhedens og Ufeilbarhedens uendelige Forestilling om Kjerlighed, Gud er Kjerlighed, altsaa maa den Enkelte blive i Gjelden – saa sandt Gud bedømmer det, eller saasandt han bliver i Gud, thi kun i Gjeldens Uendelighed kan Gud blive i ham.

Close English

See, understood in this way, there is earnestness and truth in remaining in love’s debt to one another. Even the most sincerely intended and, humanly speaking, noblest rapture—even the most glowing and unselfish enthusiasm—is nevertheless not earnestness, although it performs the astonishing and although it also wishes to remain in the debt. The deficiency in even the noblest human enthusiasm is that, as merely human, it is in the final sense not master of itself because it has no higher power over it.

Only the God-relation is earnestness. The earnest thing is precisely that the task is compelled to its highest because there is the one who compels with eternity’s power; the earnest thing is that enthusiasm has a power above it and a constraint upon it. The single individual is obligated in love’s debt to other human beings, but neither this individual himself nor other human beings shall judge his love. When this is so, the single individual must remain in the infinite debt. God has truth’s and infallibility’s infinite conception of love; God is love. Therefore the single individual must remain in the debt—as surely as God judges it, or as surely as he remains in God, for only in the debt’s infinitude can God remain in him.

Danish

Han bliver i Gjelden, og han erkjender tillige, at det er hans Pligt at blive i Gjelden, hans Pligt, at gjøre denne Tilstaaelse, der, christeligt, ikke er Sværmeriets, men en ydmyg, kjerlig Sjels. Det Ydmyge ligger i at gjøre Tilstaaelsen; det Kjerlige ligger i at være uendelig villig til at gjøre den, fordi det hører med til Kjerlighed, fordi der er Salighedens Mening og Sammenhæng i denne Tilstaaelse; det Christelige ligger i, slet ingen Ophævelse at gjøre derover, fordi det er Pligt.

Close English

He remains in the debt and at the same time acknowledges that it is his duty to remain in the debt—his duty to make this confession, which, Christianly, belongs not to rapture but to a humble, loving soul. The humble lies in making the confession; the loving lies in being infinitely willing to make it because it belongs with love, because in this confession there is blessedness’s meaning and coherence; the Christian lies in making no fuss at all about it, because it is duty.

Danish

»Bliver derfor Ingen Noget skyldige, uden det at elske hverandre«; nei, »betaler Alle Alt, hvad I ere dem skyldige, Den, som I ere Skat skyldige, Skat; Den, som Told, Told; Den, som Frygt, Frygt; Den, som Ære, Ære.« Bliver saaledes intet andet Menneske Noget skyldige, ikke hvad Du har laant af ham, ikke hvad Du har lovet ham, ikke hvad han med Rette kan fordre af Dig som Gjengjeld. Bliv, om muligt, intet Menneske Noget skyldig, ingen Forekommenhed, ingen Tjeneste, ingen Deeltagelse i Glæde eller Sorg, ingen Skaansomhed i at dømme, ingen Hjælp i Livet, intet Raad i Farer, ingen Opoffrelse, end ikke den tungeste, nei, i alt Dette bliv intet Menneske noget skyldig; men bliv dog i Skylden, som Du med alt dette ingenlunde har villet og for Gud ingenlunde har kunnet afbetale, den Skyld, at elske hverandre!

Close English

“Therefore owe no one anything, except to love one another”; no, “pay everyone everything you owe them: tax to the one to whom you owe tax; customs to the one to whom customs; fear to the one to whom fear; honour to the one to whom honour.” Thus owe no other human being anything: not what you have borrowed from him, not what you have promised him, not what he can rightfully demand of you in return. If possible, owe no human being anything: no gracious readiness, no service, no participation in joy or sorrow, no gentleness in judging, no help in life, no counsel in dangers, no sacrifice, not even the heaviest; no, in all this owe no human being anything. But nevertheless remain in the debt which, by all this, you have by no means wished, and before God have by no means been able, to pay off: the debt of loving one another!

Danish

O, gjør dette! Og saa blot Eet endnu: »husk itide paa, at dersom Du gjør dette eller dog stræber at gjøre derefter, da vil det gaae Dig ilde i Verden.« Dette er især vigtigt at minde om særligt ved denne Tales, almindeligt ved denne lille Bogs Slutning, at Talen ikke usandt skal virke henrivende. Derfor vil Verden just finde Slutningen aldeles forfeilet, hvilket igjen har sin Betydning for at bevise, at Slutningen er – rigtig.

Close English

Oh, do this! And then just one thing more: “remember in good time that, if you do this, or at least strive to act accordingly, things will go badly for you in the world.” It is especially important to recall this at the conclusion of this discourse in particular, and of this little book in general, so that the discourse shall not act in an untruthfully captivating way. Precisely for this reason the world will find the conclusion altogether unsuccessful, which in turn has its significance for proving that the conclusion is—right.

Danish

Man læser og hører stundom med Bedrøvelse christelige Foredrag, der egentligen udelade den sidste Fare. Hvad der siges om Tro, om Kjerlighed, om Ydmyghed er ganske rigtigt og ganske christeligt; men dog maa en saadan Tale vildlede en Yngling istedenfor at veilede ham, fordi Talen udelader, hvad der saa derpaa hænder det Christelige i Verden. Talen fordrer, at et Menneske med Selvfornegtelse skal arbeide paa, at udvikle det christelige Sindelag i sig – men saa, saa, ja saa siges der ikke mere, eller de høist betænkelige nærmere Bestemmelser forties, medens der tales saadan om og forsikkres, at det Gode har sin Løn, at det er elsket baade af Gud og af Menneskene. Naar nu dette christelige Sindelag, med Rette, anprises som det Høieste, saa maa jo Ynglingen troe, at hvis han da fuldkommer dette eller dog redeligt arbeider paa at fuldkomme det, saa vil det ogsaa gaae ham godt i Verden. See, denne Fortielse af den sidste Vanskelighed (at det nemlig, menneskelig talt, vil gaae ham ilde i Verden, og netop jo mere han udvikler det Christelige i sig) er et Bedrag, som enten maa føre Ynglingen til at fortvivle over sig selv (som laae Feilen ganske ligefrem hos ham, at han ikke var en sand Christen) eller til mismodigt at opgive sin Stræben, som hændte der ham noget ganske Usædvanligt, medens der dog kun hænder ham, hvad Apostelen Johannes taler om, som om det ganske Sædvanlige, naar han siger (1 Joh. 3, 13): »lad dette ikke forundre Eder.« Ynglingen har Taleren altsaa bedraget ved at fortie det sande Sammenhæng, ved at lade som var der, christeligt, kun Strid paa eet Sted, istedenfor, at den sande christelige Strid altid er Dobbelt-Farens, fordi der er Strid paa to Steder: først i Menneskets Indre, hvor han skal stride med sig selv, og saa, naar han gjør Fremgang i denne Strid, udenfor Mennesket med Verden. Ak, maaskee er en saadan Taler bange for at anbefale det Christelige og det Gode paa denne vistnok besynderlige, men sandfærdige Maade, at det ingen Løn har i Verden, ja, at Verden just arbeider det imod. Maaskee synes det Taleren, at det er som at slaae sig selv paa sin – veltalende Mund, naar han, efter at have i de meest anbefalende og saa særdeles heldigt valgte Vendinger og Udtryk anpriist det Gode, og altsaa lagt det Tilhøreren saa nær som muligt endnu idag at gaae hen og gjøre derefter, det synes ham maaskee, at det er som at slaae sig selv paa Munden, ja, at det er Synd for Indtrykket af hans smagfulde Veltalenheds Mesterstykke, hvis han saa skulde tilføie blandt Anbefalingerne: at det Gode lønnes med Had, Foragt, Forfølgelse. Thi hvis saa er, synes det jo naturligere at advare mod det Gode, eller endnu rettere, det gjør man jo ved at anbefale det paa denne Maade. Taleren er rigtignok i en vanskelig Stilling. Velmenende maaskee, vil han saa gjerne lokke Menneskene: saa udelader han den sidste Vanskelighed, Det, som gjør Anbefalingen saa vanskelig – og nu gaaer det flydende, baade opløftende og taaredrivende, i et henrivende Foredrag. Ak, men dette er, som viist blev, at bedrage. Skal Taleren derimod gjøre Brug af – den vanskelige Anbefaling, saa »skrækker han Tilhørerne bort«, maaskee vilde Talen næsten forskrække ham selv, han der i høi Grad feiret, agtet og skatteret, jo beviser, at det gode Christelige har sin Løn i Verden. At han nemlig har Lønnen, om saa Evigheden ti Gange mener, at han har Lønnen borte, at han har Lønnen, kan ikke negtes, men den synes noget verdslig, og er ikke den Godtgjørelse, som Christendommen itide har lovet sine Tilhængere, og hvorved den strax har – anbefalet sig.

Close English

At times one reads and hears with sorrow Christian addresses which actually omit the final danger. What is said about faith, about love, about humility is entirely correct and entirely Christian; yet such a discourse must mislead a young man instead of guiding him, because it omits what then happens to what is Christian in the world. The discourse demands that a human being work with self-denial to develop the Christian disposition within himself—but then, then, yes, then no more is said, or the highly disquieting further determinations are passed over in silence, while people speak in this way and assure us that the good has its reward, that it is loved both by God and by human beings. When this Christian disposition is rightly praised as the highest, the young man must therefore believe that, if he fulfils it, or at least honestly works at fulfilling it, things will also go well for him in the world. See, this silence about the final difficulty—namely that, humanly speaking, things will go badly for him in the world, and precisely the more he develops what is Christian within himself—is a deception. It must lead the young man either to despair over himself, as though the fault quite simply lay in his not being a true Christian, or to give up his striving in despondency, as though something quite extraordinary were happening to him, although what happens is only what the Apostle John speaks of as quite ordinary when he says (1 John 3:13): “do not let this astonish you.”

The speaker has thus deceived the young man by keeping silent about the true connection, by acting as though, Christianly, there were struggle in only one place. The true Christian struggle is always that of the double danger, because there is struggle in two places: first within the human being, where he must struggle with himself, and then, when he makes progress in this struggle, outside him, with the world. Alas, perhaps such a speaker is afraid to commend what is Christian and the good in this admittedly strange but truthful way: that it has no reward in the world, indeed that the world works precisely against it. Perhaps the speaker thinks it is like striking himself upon his—eloquent mouth when, after praising the good in the most commendatory and so especially felicitously chosen turns and expressions, and thus making it as immediately compelling as possible for the listener to go and act accordingly this very day, he should then add among the recommendations that the good is rewarded with hatred, contempt, persecution. Perhaps this seems like striking himself on the mouth, indeed like a pity for the effect of his tasteful eloquence’s masterpiece. For if this is so, it seems more natural to warn against the good; or, more correctly still, that is precisely what one does by commending it in this way.

The speaker is certainly in a difficult position. Perhaps well-meaning, he wants so much to entice people. He therefore omits the final difficulty, that which makes the recommendation so difficult—and now it flows, both uplifting and moving to tears, in a captivating address. Alas, but this, as was shown, is to deceive. If, on the other hand, the speaker is to use—the difficult recommendation, then he “frightens the listeners away”; perhaps the discourse would almost frighten the speaker himself, who, greatly celebrated, respected and esteemed, indeed proves that Christian goodness has its reward in the world. For that he has the reward—even if eternity ten times considers that he has already had his reward—that he has the reward cannot be denied. But it seems somewhat worldly, and is not the recompense which Christianity has promised its followers in good time, and by which it has at once—commended itself.

Danish

Vi ville sandeligen nødigt gjøre en Yngling opblæst, og tidligt lære ham at faae travlt med at dømme Verden, Gud forbyde, at noget Ord af os skulde kunne bidrage til at udvikle denne Usundhed i et Menneske; vi mene netop at skulle gjøre ham hans Liv indefter saa anstrenget, at han for det Første faaer Andet at tænke paa, thi det er vistnok, at det er et usundt Had til Verden, som, maaskee endog uden engang at have betænkt det uhyre Ansvar, ønsker at blive forfulgt. Men paa den anden Side ville vi sandeligen ogsaa nødigt bedrage en Yngling ved at fortie Vanskeligheden, og fortie den just i det Øieblik, vi stræbe at anbefale det Christelige, thi da og just da er Øieblikket til at tale. Vi fortrøste os til frimodigt at turde anprise det Christelige ogsaa med det Tilføiende, at dets Løn mildest talt er Utak i Verden. Vi ansee det for vor Pligt bestandigt at tale til itide, saa vi ikke stundom anprise det Christelige med Udeladelse af nogen dets væsentlige Vanskelighed, og til andre Tider, maaskee i Anledning af en enkelt Text, hitte paa nogle Trøstegrunde for den i Livet Forsøgte. Nei, just da, naar det Christelige stærkest anprises, skal Vanskeligheden samtidigt fremhæves. Det er nemlig uchristeligt Klynkerie, om Nogen vil mene: lad os paa enhver Maade vinde Menneskene for det Christelige, og naar saa engang Gjenvordighederne komme over dem, saa har vi jo Raad, saa er det Tid at tale derom. Men heri ligger den Sviig: om det dog ikke skulde være muligt, at en Christen kunde slippe fra disse Gjenvordigheder, aldeles i samme Forstand, som En heldigt hverken forsøges i Armod eller Sygdom. Det vil sige, man seer Verdens Modstand i et tilfældigt Forhold til det Christelige, ikke i et væsentligt: Modstanden kan maaskee komme, men maaskee ogsaa udeblive. Dog denne Betragtning er aldeles uchristelig. Om en Hedning kan have Ret i at prise sig lykkelig i sin Død, at han slap igjennem Livet og dog forbi alle Gjenvordigheder, er vel muligt; men en Christen maa være lidt betænkelig ved denne Glæde i Døds-Øieblikket – thi, christeligt, staaer Verdens Modstand i et væsentligt Forhold til det Christeliges Inderlighed. Desuden skal Den, der vælger det Christelige, netop i det Øieblik have Indtrykket af dets Vanskelighed, at han kan vide, hvad det er han vælger. Der skal ikke loves Ynglingen Andet, end hvad Christendommen kan holde, men Christendommen kan ikke Andet end holde, hvad den fra først af har lovet: Verdens Utak, Modstand, Forhaanelse, og bestandigt i høiere Grad, jo alvorligere Christen En bliver. Dette er den sidste Vanskelighed ved det Christelige, og den maa allermindst forties da, naar man anpriser det Christelige.

Close English

We would certainly be reluctant to make a young man puffed up and teach him early to busy himself with judging the world. God forbid that any word of ours should contribute to developing this unhealthiness in a human being. We think, on the contrary, that we ought to make his inward life so strenuous that he immediately has something else to think about. For it is certain that it is an unhealthy hatred of the world which wishes to be persecuted, perhaps without even having considered the tremendous responsibility. But, on the other hand, we would certainly also be reluctant to deceive a young man by keeping silent about the difficulty, and keeping silent precisely at the moment when we strive to commend what is Christian; for then, precisely then, is the moment to speak. We trust that we may boldly praise what is Christian also with the addition that its reward in the world is, to put it mildly, ingratitude. We consider it our duty always to speak in good time, so that we do not sometimes praise what is Christian while omitting any of its essential difficulties, and at other times, perhaps on the occasion of a particular text, devise some grounds of consolation for the person tried in life. No, precisely when what is Christian is praised most strongly, the difficulty must be brought forward at the same time.

For it is unchristian whining if someone should think: let us win people for what is Christian in every way, and once adversities come upon them, we shall have remedies; then will be the time to speak of it. But within this lies the deception: whether it might nevertheless be possible for a Christian to escape these adversities in exactly the same sense as someone fortunately is tried neither by poverty nor by sickness. That is, one sees the world’s opposition as standing in an accidental relation to what is Christian, not an essential one: perhaps opposition may come, but perhaps it may also stay away. Yet this view is altogether unchristian. It may well be possible that a pagan is right to count himself fortunate in his death for having passed through life while avoiding all adversities; but a Christian must be a little uneasy about this joy at the moment of death. For, Christianly, the world’s opposition stands in an essential relation to Christian inwardness. Moreover, the person who chooses what is Christian must have an impression of its difficulty precisely at that moment, so that he may know what he is choosing. Nothing shall be promised to the young man except what Christianity can keep; but Christianity cannot do otherwise than keep what it has promised from the beginning: the world’s ingratitude, opposition, mockery, and always in a higher degree the more earnest a Christian one becomes. This is the final difficulty of what is Christian, and it must least of all be passed over in silence when one praises what is Christian.

Danish

Nei, naar den sidste Vanskelighed forties, saa kan der egentligen ikke tales om det Christelige. Dersom Verden ikke er saaledes som Christendommen oprindeligt antog den at være, saa er det Christelige væsentligen afskaffet. Hvad Christendommen kalder Selvfornegtelse er just og væsentligen indeholdende en Dobbelt-Fare, ellers er Selvfornegtelsen ikke christelig Selvfornegtelse. Kan derfor Nogen bevise, at Verden eller Christenheden nu er bleven væsentligen god, som var det Evigheden, saa skal jeg ogsaa bevise, at den christelige Selvfornegtelse er gjort umulig, og Christendommen afskaffet, saaledes som den vil være afskaffet i Evigheden, hvor den vil være ophørt at være stridende. Den blot menneskelige Selvfornegtelses Tanke er denne: opgiv Dine selvkjerlige Ønsker, Attraaer, Planer – saa bliver Du agtet og æret og elsket som den Retfærdige og Vise. Man seer let, at denne Selvfornegtelse ikke naaer Gud eller Guds-Forholdet, den bliver verdsligt indenfor Forholdet mellem Menneske og Menneske. Den christelige Selvfornegtelses Tanke er: opgiv Dine selvkjerlige Ønsker og Attraaer, opgiv Dine egennyttige Planer og Hensigter, saa Du i Sandhed uegennyttigt arbeider for det Gode – og find Dig saa i, just derfor at være afskyet næsten som en Forbryder, forhaanet, bespottet, find Dig saa i, hvis det fordres af Dig, just derfor at blive henrettet som en Forbryder, eller rettere, find Dig ikke deri, thi det kan man næsten nødsages til, men vælg det frit. Dette veed nemlig den christelige Selvfornegtelse forud, at det vil hænde den, og vælger det frit. Christendommen har Evighedens Forestilling om hvad det er at opgive sine egennyttige Hensigter, den lader derfor den Christne ikke slippe for halv Priis. Man seer let, at den christelige Selvfornegtelse naaer Gud, og i Gud har sit eneste Tilhold. Men kun saaledes at være forladt – i Dobbelt-Faren er christelig Selvfornegtelse; den anden Fare, eller Faren paa andet Sted er netop Sikkerheden for, at det er i sin Rigtighed med Guds-Forholdet, at det er et reent Guds-Forhold. Og om der ingen anden Dobbelt-Fare var, blot det at ville være saaledes forladt, anseer Verden for Dumhed eller Galskab, hvad den altsaa er meget langt fra at ære og beundre. Verden forstaaer sig kun klogt paa Selvfornegtelse, og ærer derfor kun den Selvfornegtelse, som klogt bliver indenfor Verdsligheden. Derfor sørger Verden bestandigt for, at der er et tilstrækkeligt Antal af den eftergjorte Selvfornegtelses falske Sedler i Omløb, ak, og stundom bliver Forholdenes og Tankernes Krydsen saa forviklet, at der hører et kyndigere Øie til strax at kjende den falske Seddel. Thi man kan jo ogsaa tage Gud verdsligt med indenfor Verdsligheden, og altsaa faae en Selvfornegtelse, som har Gud-Mærket og dog er falsk. Det kan jo stundom verdsligt tage sig godt ud som det hedder at fornegte sig selv for Guds Skyld, dog ikke i hiin Dobbelt-Farens forladte Fortrolighed med Gud, men saaledes, at Verdsligheden forstaaer dette Menneske og ærer ham derfor. Dog er det let at kjende Falskneriet, thi saasnart Dobbelt-Mærket mangler, saa er Selvfornegtelsen ikke christelig Selvfornegtelse. Det er menneskelig Selvfornegtelse, naar Barnet fornegter sig selv, medens Forældrenes Favn opmuntrende og tilskyndende aabner sig for det. Det er menneskelig Selvfornegtelse, naar et Menneske fornegter sig selv, og Verden nu aabner sig for ham. Men det er christelig Selvfornegtelse, naar et Menneske fornegter sig selv, og han nu, just fordi Verden derfor lukker sig for ham, stødt tilbage af Verden maa søge Guds Fortrolighed. Dobbelt-Faren ligger jo just i at møde Modstand der, hvor han havde ventet at finde Bistand, saa han altsaa maa vende sig to Gange, istedenfor, at den blot menneskelige Selvfornegtelse kun vender sig een Gang. Al den Selvfornegtelse derfor, som finder Bistand i Verden, den er ikke christelig Selvfornegtelse. Det var i denne Betydning at de gamle Kirkelærere sagde: at Hedenskabets Dyder ere glimrende Laster. – Det er blot menneskelig Selvfornegtelse: uden Frygt for sig selv og uden Hensyn til sig selv at vove sig i Fare – i den Fare, hvor Æren vinker den Seirende, hvor de Medlevendes, Tilskuernes Beundring allerede vinker Den, som blot vover. Man seer let, at denne Selvfornegtelse ikke naaer Gud, men bliver underveis, indenfor Menneskeligheden. Det er christelig Selvfornegtelse: uden Frygt for sig selv og uden Hensyn til sig selv at vove sig i den Fare, om hvilken de Medlevende, hildede og forblindede og medskyldige, ingen Forestilling have eller ville have, at der er Ære at vinde, saa det altsaa ikke blot er farefuldt at vove sig i Faren, men dobbelt farefuldt, fordi Tilskuernes Forhaanelse venter den Modige, ligegyldigt enten han seirer eller han taber. I det ene Tilfælde er Forestillingen om Faren given; de Medlevende ere enige om, at der er Fare, Fare at vove sig i, og altsaa Ære at vinde ved Seiren, da Forestillingen om Faren allerede gjør dem villige til at beundre Den, der blot vover. I det andet Tilfælde maa den Modige ligesom opdage Faren og stride for at faae Lov til at kalde Fare, hvad de Medlevende ikke ville, der, om de end indrømme, at det er muligt at sætte Livet til i denne Fare, dog negte, at det er en Fare, da det for deres Forestilling er en Latterlighed og altsaa dobbelt latterligt at sætte sit Liv til for en Latterlighed. Christendommen opdagede saaledes en Fare, som hedder evig Fortabelse. Denne Fare forekom Verden en Latterlighed. Lad os nu tænke et christeligt Vidne. Han vover sig for denne Læres Skyld i Kamp med de Mægtige, der have hans Liv i deres Haand, og som i ham maae see en Urostifter – det vil vel koste ham Livet. Men paa samme Tid finde de Medlevende, med hvem han ikke har nærmest at stride, men som ere Tilskuere, de finde det latterligt at vove sig i Døden for en saadan Taabeligheds Skyld. See, her er Livet at tabe, og sandeligen ingen Ære og Beundring at vinde. Dog saaledes at være forladt, kun saaledes at være forladt er christelig Selvfornegtelse. – – Dersom nu Verden eller Christenheden var væsentligen bleven god, saa var denne Selvfornegtelse gjort umulig, thi i saa Fald vilde Verden jo, som væsentligen god, ære og prise Den, som fornegtede sig selv, og bestandigt have den rigtige Forestilling om, hvor Faren er, og hvilken den sande Fare er.

Close English

No, when the final difficulty is kept silent, it is not really possible to speak of what is Christian. If the world is not as Christianity originally assumed it to be, then what is Christian has essentially been abolished. What Christianity calls self-denial precisely and essentially contains a double danger; otherwise self-denial is not Christian self-denial. Therefore, if anyone can prove that the world or Christendom has now become essentially good, as though it were eternity, then I shall also prove that Christian self-denial has been made impossible and Christianity abolished, as it will be abolished in eternity, where it will have ceased to be militant. The thought of merely human self-denial is this: give up your selfish wishes, desires, plans—then you will be respected and honoured and loved as the righteous and wise person. It is easy to see that this self-denial does not reach God or the God-relation; it remains worldly, within the relation between human being and human being. The thought of Christian self-denial is: give up your selfish wishes and desires, give up your self-interested plans and intentions, so that you truly work disinterestedly for the good—and then submit to being, precisely for that reason, detested almost as a criminal, mocked, reviled; then submit, if it is required of you, to being executed precisely for that reason as a criminal. Or rather, do not submit to it, for one can almost be forced to that, but choose it freely. Christian self-denial knows beforehand that this will happen to it, and chooses it freely. Christianity has eternity’s conception of what it is to give up one’s self-interested intentions, and therefore does not let the Christian off at half price.

It is easy to see that Christian self-denial reaches God and has its only refuge in God. But only to be abandoned in this way—in the double danger—is Christian self-denial. The second danger, or the danger in the second place, is precisely the assurance that the God-relation is in order, that it is a pure God-relation. And if there were no other double danger, the world considers merely wishing to be abandoned in this way stupidity or madness, which it is thus very far from honouring and admiring. The world understands self-denial only in terms of shrewdness, and therefore honours only the self-denial which shrewdly remains within worldliness. For this reason the world always ensures that a sufficient number of counterfeit self-denial’s false banknotes are in circulation. Alas, and at times the crossing of relations and thoughts becomes so entangled that it takes a more practised eye to recognise the false banknote at once. For one can also include God in a worldly way within worldliness, and so obtain a self-denial which bears God’s mark and yet is false. It can at times look well in a worldly sense to deny oneself, as it is called, for God’s sake—not, however, in that abandoned intimacy with God of the double danger, but in such a way that worldliness understands this person and honours him for it. Yet it is easy to recognise the forgery: as soon as the double mark is missing, self-denial is not Christian self-denial.

It is human self-denial when the child denies itself while the parents’ arms open to it encouragingly and supportively. It is human self-denial when a human being denies himself and the world now opens to him. But it is Christian self-denial when a human being denies himself and, precisely because the world closes itself to him on that account, he must, repelled by the world, seek God’s intimacy. The double danger lies precisely in meeting opposition where he had expected to find support, so that he must thus turn twice, whereas merely human self-denial turns only once. All self-denial, therefore, which finds support in the world is not Christian self-denial. It was in this sense that the ancient teachers of the Church said that paganism’s virtues are splendid vices.

It is merely human self-denial to venture into danger without fear for oneself and without regard for oneself—into the danger where honour beckons to the victor, where the admiration of contemporaries, of spectators, already beckons to the one who merely ventures. It is easy to see that this self-denial does not reach God, but stops along the way, within humanity. It is Christian self-denial to venture, without fear for oneself and without regard for oneself, into the danger in which one’s contemporaries, entangled and blinded and complicit, have or will have no conception that honour is to be won. Thus it is not only dangerous to venture into the danger, but doubly dangerous, because the spectators’ mockery awaits the courageous person, regardless of whether he wins or loses. In the one case, the conception of the danger is given: contemporaries agree that there is danger, danger to venture into, and therefore honour to be won through victory, since the conception of the danger already makes them willing to admire the one who merely ventures. In the other case, the courageous person must as it were discover the danger, and struggle to be allowed to call danger what his contemporaries refuse to call it. Even if they admit that it is possible to lose one’s life in this danger, they nevertheless deny that it is a danger, since to their conception it is a ridiculous thing, and therefore doubly ridiculous to lose one’s life for a ridiculous thing.

Thus Christianity discovered a danger called eternal perdition. This danger seemed a ridiculous thing to the world. Let us now imagine a Christian witness. For the sake of this teaching he ventures into conflict with the powerful, who hold his life in their hands and must see a troublemaker in him—it will surely cost him his life. But at the same time his contemporaries, with whom he is not primarily in conflict but who are spectators, find it ridiculous to venture into death for the sake of such foolishness. See, here there is life to lose, and certainly no honour and admiration to win. Yet to be abandoned in this way, only to be abandoned in this way, is Christian self-denial. If, then, the world or Christendom had become essentially good, this self-denial would have been made impossible. For in that case the world, being essentially good, would indeed honour and praise the one who denied himself, and would always have the right conception of where the danger lies and what the true danger is.

Danish

See derfor ønske vi at ende denne som al vor Tale, der efter den os forundte Evne priser det Christelige, med denne lidet indsmigrende Anbefaling: vogt Dig at begynde paa at gjøre det – dersom det ikke i Sandhed er Din Alvor at ville i Sandhed fornegte Dig selv. Vi have for alvorlig en Forestilling om det Christelige til at ville lokke Nogen, vi ville hellere næsten advare. Den, der i Sandhed vil tilegne sig det Christelige, han vil dog komme til indvortes at opleve ganske andre Forfærdelser end Forfærdelsens Smule Skuespil i en Tale; han maa udefter være ganske anderledes besluttet end han kan blive det ved Hjælp af en Smule Veltalenheds sminkede Usandhed. Vi overlade til Enhver at prøve, om denne vor alvorlige Forestilling skulde synes kold, trøstesløs, uden Begeistring. Forsaavidt En skulde tale om sit eget Forhold til Verden, da vilde dette være en anden Sag, da er det Pligt at tale saa mildt, saa undskyldende som muligt, og selv naar han gjør det, er det Pligt at blive i Kjerlighedens Gjeld. Men naar vi tale veiledende, tør vi ikke fortie, hvad der maaskee er lidet skikket til at indynde Talen i en sværmersk Ynglings higende Forestilling. Vi tør heller ikke anprise, smilende at ville opløfte sig over Verdens Modstand og Daarskab; thi selv om det lader sig gjøre, som det er gjort i Hedenskabet, det lader sig og kun gjøre i Hedenskabet, fordi Hedningen ikke har det Christeliges sande, alvorlige, evigt bekymrede Forestilling om det Sande; thi for denne er det ingenlunde latterligt, at Andre mangle den. Christeligt forstaaet er Verdens væsentlige Daarskab ingenlunde latterlig, selv hvor latterlig den er; thi naar der er en Salighed at vinde eller tabe, saa er det hverken en Spøg, om jeg vinder den, ei heller latterligt, om Nogen forskjertser den.

Close English

See, therefore we wish to end this discourse, like all our discourse which praises what is Christian according to the ability granted us, with this little-ingratiating recommendation: beware of beginning to do it—unless it is truly your earnest intention truly to deny yourself. Our conception of what is Christian is too earnest for us to wish to entice anyone; we would almost rather warn. The person who truly wishes to appropriate what is Christian will nevertheless come to experience inwardly terrors quite other than the little spectacle of terror in a discourse; outwardly he must be quite otherwise resolved than a little eloquence’s painted untruth can make him. We leave it to each person to test whether this earnest conception of ours should seem cold, comfortless, without enthusiasm. Insofar as someone were to speak about his own relation to the world, this would be a different matter: then it is a duty to speak as mildly, as excusingly, as possible, and even when he does so it is a duty to remain in the debt of love. But when we speak to guide, we dare not keep silent about what is perhaps little suited to ingratiating the discourse with a rapturous young man’s yearning conception. Nor dare we commend wishing smilingly to rise above the world’s opposition and foolishness. For even if this can be done, as it has been done in paganism, it can also be done only in paganism, because the pagan does not have Christianity’s true, earnest conception of truth, eternally concerned; for that conception it is by no means ridiculous that others lack it. Christianly understood, the world’s essential foolishness is by no means ridiculous, however ridiculous it is; for when there is a blessedness to gain or lose, it is neither a jest whether I gain it, nor ridiculous if someone forfeits it.

Danish

Derimod er det en Latterlighed, som vi vel skulle vogte os for: at tale indsmigrende om det Christelige. Mon vel ogsaa et Menneske, idet han overrakte det andet Menneske et uhyre skarpt slebent, tveægget Redskab, mon han vilde overrække det med Miner, Gebærder, Udtryk, som man overrækker en Blomsterkost? Var dette ikke afsindigt? Hvad gjør man da? Forvisset om det farlige Redskabs Fortræffelighed, anpriser man det vistnok med fuld Stemme, men saaledes, at man i en vis Forstand advarer derimod. Saaledes med det Christelige. Hvis fornødent gjordes, skulde vi derfor heller ikke tage i Betænkning, under Ansvar paa høieste Sted, i christelige, just i christelige Prædikener at prædike mod Christendommen. Thi vi vide heelt vel, hvor Ulykken i disse Tider stikker: at man ved gjækkelig og indsmigrende Søndags-Tale har faaet Christendommen narret ind i et Sandsebedrag, og os Mennesker ind i den Indbildning, at vi saadan ere Christne. Dog, hvis et Menneske meente at holde en Blomst i sin Haand, en Blomst, som han halvt forfængeligt, halvt tankeløst forlystede sig med at betragte – og da Nogen, med Sandhed vel at mærke, raabte til ham »Ulyksalige, Du seer ikke, at det er et uhyre skarpt slebent, tveægget Redskab, Du holder i Din Haand«: mon han ikke et Øieblik vilde blive forfærdet! Men, men – mon Den, der med Sandhed sagde det, bedrog ham eller Sandheden? Thi atter dette vilde dog kun være at sætte ham fastere i Misforstaaelsen, hvis En vilde minde hiint Menneske om, at den Blomst, han holdt i sin Haand, var ingen simpel eller almindelig Blomst, men den høist sjeldne. Nei, Christendommen er ikke i menneskelig Forstand den høist sjeldne Blomst, ei heller den allersjeldneste – saa bliver Talen dog, hedensk og verdsligt, indenfor den blot menneskelige Forestilling. Christendommen er, guddommeligt forstaaet, det høieste Gode, og derfor tillige, menneskelig forstaaet, et uhyre farligt Gode, fordi den, blot menneskeligt forstaaet, er saa langtfra at være den sjeldne Blomst, at den er Forargelse og Daarskab, nu som engang i Begyndelsen og saa længe Verden bestaaer.

Close English

On the other hand, there is a ridiculous thing against which we must indeed be on our guard: speaking ingratiatingly about what is Christian. Would a person, when handing another person an immensely sharp-ground, double-edged instrument, hand it over with the expressions, gestures and words with which one hands over a bouquet? Would that not be mad? What does one do, then? Convinced of the dangerous instrument’s excellence, one certainly commends it with a full voice, but in such a way that, in a certain sense, one warns against it. So with what is Christian. If it should become necessary, we would therefore not hesitate, answerable to the highest authority, to preach against Christianity in Christian—precisely in Christian—sermons. For we know very well where the misfortune of these times lies: through foolish and ingratiating Sunday talk, Christianity has been tricked into an illusion, and we human beings into imagining that we are Christians as a matter of course.

But if a person thought he held a flower in his hand, a flower he delighted in contemplating half vainly, half thoughtlessly, and someone then cried to him—truthfully, be it noted—“Unhappy man, you do not see that what you hold in your hand is an immensely sharp-ground, double-edged instrument”: would he not for a moment be terrified! But, but—did the one who truthfully said this deceive him or the truth? For once again, this would only establish him more firmly in the misunderstanding if someone were to remind that person that the flower he held in his hand was no simple or ordinary flower, but the exceedingly rare one. No, Christianity is not, in the human sense, the exceedingly rare flower, nor the rarest of all. Then the discourse still remains, paganly and worldly, within the merely human conception. Christianity is, divinely understood, the highest good, and therefore also, humanly understood, an immensely dangerous good. For, merely humanly understood, it is so far from being the rare flower that it is offence and foolishness, now as once in the beginning and as long as the world endures.

Danish

Overalt hvor det Christelige er, er Forargelsens Mulighed, men Forargelse er den høieste Fare. Enhver, der i Sandhed har tilegnet sig det Christelige eller Noget af det Christelige, han har ogsaa maattet gaae Forargelsens Mulighed saaledes forbi, at han har seet den, og med den for Øie – valgt det Christelige. Skal der tales om det Christelige, maa Talen bestandigt holde Forargelsens Mulighed aaben, men altsaa kan den aldrig komme til ligefremt at anbefale Christendommen, saa Forskjellen mellem Talerne blot vilde være den, at een gjorde det i stærkere, en anden i svagere, en tredie i de allerstærkeste Lovprisningens Udtryk. Christendommen kan kun anprises, idet paa ethvert Punkt Faren i eet væk gjøres aabenbar: hvorledes det Christelige er den blot menneskelige Forestilling Daarskab og Forargelse. Men ved at gjøre dette tydeligt og aabenbart, advares der jo. Saa alvorlig er Christendommen. Hvad der trænger til Menneskenes Bifald gjør sig strax lækkert for dem, men Christendommen er saaledes sikker paa sig selv, og veed med saadan Alvor og Strenghed, at det er Menneskene, der trænge til den, at den just derfor ikke anbefaler sig ligefrem, men først skrækker Menneskene op – som Christus anbefalede sig til Apostlene ved itide at forudsige dem, at de for hans Skyld vilde blive forhadte, ja at Den, som slog dem ihjel, vilde mene at gjøre Gud en Tjeneste.

Close English

Wherever what is Christian is present, there is the possibility of offence; but offence is the highest danger. Everyone who has truly appropriated what is Christian, or something of what is Christian, has also had to pass by the possibility of offence in such a way that he has seen it and, with it before his eyes, chosen what is Christian. If what is Christian is to be spoken of, the discourse must always keep the possibility of offence open. But thus it can never come to commend Christianity directly, so that the difference between speakers would merely be that one did so in stronger, another in weaker, a third in the very strongest expressions of praise. Christianity can be praised only while, at every point and without cease, the danger is made manifest: how what is Christian is foolishness and offence to the merely human conception. But in making this clear and manifest, one is indeed giving warning. Such is Christianity’s earnestness. What needs human beings’ approval immediately makes itself delectable to them. But Christianity is so certain of itself, and knows with such earnestness and severity that it is human beings who need it, that for this very reason it does not commend itself directly, but first startles human beings—as Christ commended himself to the apostles by foretelling in good time that for his sake they would be hated, indeed that the one who killed them would think he was doing God a service.

Danish

Da Christendommen kom ind i Verden, behøvede den ikke (om den dog gjorde det) selv at gjøre opmærksom paa, at den var Forargelsen, thi denne opdagede jo Verden let nok, som tog Forargelsen. Men nu, nu, da Verden er bleven christelig, nu maa Christendommen for Alt selv passe paa Forargelsen. Dersom det derfor er saa, at saa mange »Christne« i disse Tider gaae Glip af Christendommen, hvoraf kommer det, uden deraf, at Forargelsens Mulighed glipper for dem, dette Forfærdelige: behag at bemærke? Hvad Under saa, at Christendommen og dens Salighed og dens Opgaver ikke mere kan tilfredsstille »de Christne« – de kunne jo ikke engang forarges paa den! – Da Christendommen kom ind i Verden, behøvede den ikke selv (om den dog gjorde det) at gjøre opmærksom paa, at den stred mod den menneskelige Fornuft, thi dette opdagede Verden let nok. Men nu, nu, da Christendommen gjennem Aarhundreder har levet i vidtløftig Omgang med den menneskelige Fornuft, nu, da en falden Christendom – ligesom hine faldne Engle, der giftede sig med jordiske Qvinder – har giftet sig med den menneskelige Fornuft, nu, da Christendom og Fornuft ere blevne Du og Du: nu maa Christendommen for Alt selv passe paa Anstødet. Skal Christendommen (ak, det er som var det Eventyret om det i hundrede Aar fortryllede Slot) prædikes ud af Sandsebedragets Fortryllelse og vanskabte Forvandling, saa maa først Forargelsens Mulighed igjen fra Grunden af prædikes tillive. Kun Forargelsens Mulighed (Modgiften mod Apologetikens Slumre-Drik) er istand til at vække den Indslumrede, istand til at kalde den Fortryllede tilbage, saa Christendommen atter er sig selv.

Close English

When Christianity entered the world, it did not itself need to call attention to its being the offence, although it did so; for the world, which took offence, discovered this easily enough. But now, now that the world has become Christian, Christianity must above all itself take care of the offence. If, therefore, so many “Christians” in these times miss Christianity, from what does this come except that the possibility of offence slips past them—this terrifying “please take note”? What wonder, then, that Christianity and its blessedness and its tasks can no longer satisfy “the Christians”—they cannot even take offence at it!

When Christianity entered the world, it did not itself need to call attention to its conflicting with human reason, although it did so; for the world discovered this easily enough. But now, now that Christianity has for centuries lived in a loose association with human reason; now that a fallen Christianity, like those fallen angels who married earthly women, has married human reason; now that Christianity and reason have become familiar with one another, on “thou and thou” terms: now Christianity must above all itself take care of the stumbling block. If Christianity—alas, it is as though it were the fairy tale of the castle enchanted for a hundred years—is to be preached out of the illusion’s enchantment and misshapen transformation, then the possibility of offence must first be preached back to life anew, from the ground up. Only the possibility of offence, the antidote to apologetics’ sleeping draught, is capable of awakening the one who has fallen asleep, capable of calling back the enchanted one, so that Christianity is once again itself.

Danish

Siger da den hellige Skrift »vee Den, ved hvem Forargelsen kommer«, saa fortrøste vi os til at sige: vee Den, som først hittede paa at prædike Christendom uden Forargelsens Mulighed. Vee Den, som indsmigrende, leflende, anbefalende, bevisende paaprakkede Menneskene noget umandigt Noget, som skulde være Christendom! Vee Den, som kunde gjøre Miraklet begribeligt, eller dog aabne os lyse Udsigter til, at det snart skulde lykkes! Vee Den, som forraadte og brød Troens Hemmelighed, forvanskede den til offentlig Viisdom, fordi han tog Forargelsens Mulighed bort! Vee Den, som kunde begribe Forsoningens Hemmelighed uden at mærke Noget til Forargelsens Mulighed, endnu engang vee ham, at han meente dermed at gjøre Gud og Christendommen en Dyrkelse! Vee alle disse utroe Husholdere, som satte sig ned og skrev falske Beviser, og derved vandt Christendommen og sig selv Venner, naar de fraskreve Christendommen Forargelsens Mulighed og tilskreve den Daarskaber i hundredeviis. O, sørgeligt spildte Lærdom og Skarpsind, o sørgeligt spildte Tid paa dette uhyre Arbeide med at forsvare Christendommen! Sandeligen, naar Christendommen blot atter reiser sig vældig ved Forargelsens Mulighed, saa denne Rædsel atter kan skrække Menneskene op: saa behøver Christendommen intet Forsvar. Og paa den anden Side, jo lærdere, jo fortræffeligere Forsvaret, desto mere er Christendommen forvansket, afskaffet, afmattet som en Halvmand. Thi Forsvaret vil netop godhedsfuldt tage Forargelsens Mulighed bort. Men Christendommen skal ikke forsvares; det er Menneskene, der skulle see til, om de kunne forsvare sig og forsvare for sig selv hvad de vælge, naar Christendommen forfærdeligt som engang byder dem Valget, og forfærdeligt nødsager dem til at vælge: enten at forarges eller at antage Christendommen. Tag derfor Forargelsens Mulighed bort fra det Christelige, eller borttag fra Syndernes Forladelse den ængstede Samvittigheds Kamp (til hvilken dog, efter Luthers ypperlige Forklaring, hele denne Lære er at henføre) og luk saa jo før jo hellere Kirkerne eller gjør dem til Forlystelsessteder, som staae aabne hele Dagen.

Close English

If, then, Holy Scripture says, “woe to the one through whom offence comes,” we trust ourselves to say: woe to the one who first thought of preaching Christianity without the possibility of offence. Woe to the one who, with ingratiation, flattery, commendation and proofs, foisted upon people some unmanly something which was supposed to be Christianity! Woe to the one who could make the miracle comprehensible, or at least open bright prospects to us that it would soon succeed! Woe to the one who betrayed and broke faith’s mystery, distorted it into public wisdom, because he took away the possibility of offence! Woe to the one who could comprehend the mystery of reconciliation without noticing anything of the possibility of offence; once again woe to him for thinking that by this he was rendering worship to God and Christianity! Woe to all these unfaithful stewards who sat down and wrote false certificates, and thereby won friends for Christianity and themselves, when they wrote off Christianity’s possibility of offence and credited it with foolishnesses by the hundred. Oh, sorrowfully wasted learning and acuteness; oh, sorrowfully wasted time on this tremendous labour of defending Christianity! Truly, if Christianity only rises again in its might through the possibility of offence, so that this terror can once again startle people, then Christianity needs no defence. And, on the other hand, the more learned and excellent the defence, the more Christianity is distorted, abolished, enfeebled like half a man. For the defence wishes precisely, in its kindness, to take away the possibility of offence.

But Christianity is not to be defended. It is human beings who must see whether they can defend themselves and justify to themselves what they choose, when Christianity, terrifyingly as once before, offers them the choice and terrifyingly compels them to choose: either to take offence or to accept Christianity. Therefore take the possibility of offence away from what is Christian, or remove from the forgiveness of sins the struggle of the anguished conscience—to which, nevertheless, according to Luther’s excellent explanation, this entire doctrine is to be referred—and then, the sooner the better, close the churches or turn them into places of entertainment that stand open all day.

Danish

Men medens man saaledes ved at tage Forargelsens Mulighed bort har faaet hele Verden christnet, skeer bestandigt det Besynderlige: at Verden forarges paa den virkelige Christen. Her kommer Forargelsen, hvis Mulighed nu engang er uadskillelig fra det Christelige. Kun er Forvirringen sørgeligere end nogensinde; thi engang forargedes Verden paa Christendommen – det var der Mening i; men nu har Verden faaet den Indbildning, at den er Christen, at den har tilegnet sig Christendommen uden at mærke Noget til Forargelsens Mulighed – og forarges saa paa den virkelige Christen. Sandelig, et saadant Sandsebedrag er vanskeligt at komme ud af. Vee, de hurtige Penne og de travle Tunger, vee den hele Travlhed, som fordi den hverken veed det Ene eller det Andet, derfor saa uendelig let kan forlige baade det Ene og det Andet!

Close English

But while, by taking away the possibility of offence in this way, people have made the whole world Christian, the strange thing continually happens that the world takes offence at the actual Christian. Here comes the offence whose possibility is, after all, inseparable from what is Christian. Only the confusion is more sorrowful than ever; for once the world took offence at Christianity—there was meaning in that. But now the world has come to imagine that it is Christian, that it has appropriated Christianity without noticing anything of the possibility of offence—and then takes offence at the actual Christian. Truly, such an illusion is difficult to escape. Woe to the swift pens and the busy tongues; woe to all the busyness which, because it knows neither the one nor the other, can therefore so infinitely easily reconcile both the one and the other!

Danish

Paa den virkelige Christen forarges endnu bestandigt den christne Verden. Kun er Forargelsens Lidenskab ordentligviis her ikke saa stærk, at den vil udrydde ham, nei det bliver blot ved Spot og Haan. Dette lader sig let forklare. Dengang da Verden var sig selv bevidst ikke at være Christen, da var der Noget at strides om, da gik det paa Liv og Død. Men nu da Verden stolt og beroliget er forvisset om selv at være Christen, saa er den sande Christens Overdrivelse jo ikke mere værd end at lee af. Forvirringen er sørgeligere end i Christendommens første Tid. Det var sørgeligt, men der var Mening deri, da Verden stred paa Liv og Død med Christendommen; men Verdens nuværende ophøiede Rolighed i Bevidsthed af selv at være Christen, dens, om man saa vil, billige Smule Spot – over den virkelige Christen: dette grændser næsten til Afsindighed. Saaledes er Christendommen aldrig i dens første Tid bleven til Gjenstand for Spot.

Close English

The Christian world still continually takes offence at the actual Christian. Only, the passion of offence is ordinarily not so strong here that it wishes to eradicate him; no, it remains merely mockery and scorn. This is easily explained. At the time when the world was conscious of not being Christian, there was something to fight about; then it was a matter of life and death. But now that the world is proud and reassured in its conviction that it is itself Christian, the true Christian’s exaggeration is indeed worth no more than a laugh. The confusion is more sorrowful than in Christianity’s earliest time. It was sorrowful, but it made sense, when the world fought Christianity to the death. But the world’s present lofty tranquillity in the consciousness of itself being Christian, its, if you will, reasonable little mockery—of the actual Christian: this almost borders on madness. Christianity was never made an object of mockery in this way in its earliest time.

Danish

Naar da i denne christne Verden et Menneske vil blot nogenlunde stræbe at fuldkomme den Pligt at blive i Kjerlighedens Gjeld til hverandre: saa vil han ogsaa blive ført ud i den sidste Vanskelighed og faae Verdens Modstand at kæmpe med. Ak, Verden tænker saa lidt eller aldrig paa Gud; deraf kommer det, at den aldeles maa misforstaae ethvert Liv, hvis væsentligste og stadigste Tanke just er Tanken om Gud, Tanken om, hvor, guddommeligt forstaaet, Faren er, og hvilken Fordringen til et Menneske. Om den virkelige Christen vil derfor den christne Verden i denne Henseende sige: »han priisgiver sig selv; endog der, hvor han aabenbart er den Forurettede, er det ikke langtfra, at han næsten er Den, som beder om Forladelse«. Verden vil hos ham – christeligt (thi Verden er jo Christen) savne den fornødne – christelige Hjertets-Haardhed, der har travlt med at paatale sin Ret, at hævde sig selv, at gjengjelde Ondt med Ondt eller dog med den stolte Bevidsthed at gjøre godt. Verden mærker slet ikke, at et saadant Menneske har en ganske anden Maalestok for sit Liv, og at deraf lader det Hele sig ganske simpelt forklare, medens det rigtignok bliver ganske meningsløst, forklaret ved Hjelp af Verdens Maalestok. Men da Verden egentligen ikke veed af og vel ikke vil vide af, at denne Maalestok (Guds-Forholdet) er til, saa kan den ikke forklare et saadant Menneskes Adfærd uden som Særhed – thi at det er Christelighed kan naturligviis aldrig falde Verden ind, der som Christen dog vel selv bedst veed, hvad Christendom er. Det er sært, at et Menneske ikke er egennyttigt, det er sært, at han ikke skjender igjen, det er sært og flaut, at han tilgiver sin Fjende og næsten er bange for, om han ogsaa gjør nok for sin Fjende, det er sært, at han altid kommer an paa forkeert Sted, aldrig hvor det tager sig ud at være modig, høimodig, uegennyttig: dette er sært og søgt og halvfjantet, kort Noget til at lee lidt af, naar man da selv, ved at være Verden, er sikker paa som Christen at være i Besiddelse af det Sande og Saligheden baade her og hisset. Verden har ingen uden i det høieste en meget fjern Stor-Høitids-Forestilling om, at Guds-Forholdet er til, end sige, at det dagligt skulde bestemme et Menneskes Liv – derfor maa den dømme saaledes. Den usynlige Lov for et saadant Menneskes Liv, for dets Lidelse og for dets Salighed, er slet ikke til for Verden: ergo maa den forklare et saadant Liv mildest som Særhed, ligesom vi jo forklare det som Afsindighed, naar et Menneske i eet væk seer sig om efter en Fugl, som Ingen af os Andre kan see, eller naar et Menneske dandser – efter en Musik, som det ikke er noget andet Menneske, selv med hans redeligste Villie, muligt at høre, eller naar et Menneske ved sin Gang udtrykker, at han gaaer af Veien for noget – Usynligt. Og dette er jo ogsaa Afsindighed; thi en Fugl, hvis den virkelig er tilstede, kan ikke være usynlig tilstede, saa lidet som en virkelig Musik kan være uhørlig, og saa lidet som en virkelig Hindring paa Ens Vei, der gjør det fornødent at gaae af Veien, kan være usynlig; men Gud kan kun være usynlig og uhørlig tilstede, saa det, at Verden ikke seer ham, endda ikke beviser saa meget.

Close English

When, then, in this Christian world a human being wishes even in some measure to strive to fulfil the duty of remaining in the debt of love to one another, he will also be led out into the final difficulty and have the world’s opposition to struggle with. Alas, the world thinks so little of God, or never thinks of him. Hence it must altogether misunderstand every life whose most essential and constant thought is precisely the thought of God: the thought of where, divinely understood, the danger lies, and what the demand upon a human being is. Of the actual Christian, the Christian world will therefore say in this respect: “he gives himself away; even where he is plainly the wronged party, he is not far from almost being the one who asks forgiveness.” In him the world will—Christianly, for the world is of course Christian—miss the necessary—Christian hardness of heart, which busies itself with asserting its right, maintaining itself, repaying evil with evil or at least doing good with a proud consciousness.

The world does not notice at all that such a person has an entirely different measure for his life, and that everything can be explained quite simply from this, although it certainly becomes quite meaningless when explained with the help of the world’s measure. But since the world does not really know, and presumably does not wish to know, that this measure—the God-relation—exists, it cannot explain such a person’s conduct except as oddity. For that it is Christianity can naturally never occur to the world, which, being Christian, must surely itself know best what Christianity is. It is odd that a person is not self-interested; it is odd that he does not return abuse; it is odd and embarrassing that he forgives his enemy and is almost afraid whether he is doing enough for his enemy; it is odd that he always arrives in the wrong place, never where it looks well to be courageous, magnanimous, disinterested. This is odd and affected and half foolish; in short, something to laugh a little at, when one is oneself, by being the world, certain as a Christian of possessing truth and blessedness both here and hereafter.

The world has no conception, except at most a very remote high-festival conception, that the God-relation exists, let alone that it should daily determine a human being’s life; therefore it must judge in this way. The invisible law of such a person’s life, of his suffering and of his blessedness, simply does not exist for the world. Therefore it must explain such a life, at the mildest, as oddity: just as we explain it as madness when a person continually looks around for a bird which none of the rest of us can see, or when a person dances—to a music which no other person, even with the most honest willingness, can possibly hear, or when a person’s way of walking expresses that he is stepping aside for something—invisible. And this is indeed madness; for a bird, if it is really present, cannot be invisibly present, any more than real music can be inaudible, or than a real obstacle in one’s path which makes it necessary to step aside can be invisible. But God can be present only invisibly and inaudibly, so that the world’s not seeing him still does not prove so very much.

Danish

Lad mig oplyse dette Forhold ved et simpelt Billede, som jeg oftere har brugt om end paa en forskjelliggjort Maade – det er saa frugtbart, saa lærerigt og saa betegnende. Naar et strengt opdraget Barn er sammen med uartige eller mindre artige Børn, og det da ikke vil deeltage med dem i deres Uartigheder, hvilke de dog selv, idetmindste for en stor Deel, ikke ansee for Uartigheder: saa vide de uartige Børn ikke at forklare dette anderledes, end at Barnet maa være et sært og tosset Barn; de mærke ikke, at Forholdet lader sig forklare paa en anden Maade, af, at det strengt opdragne Barn bestandigt, hvor det end er, hos sig har Forældrenes Maalestok for hvad det tør og hvad det ikke tør. Dersom Forældrene synligen vare tilstede, saa de uartige Børn saae dem, da vilde de bedre kunne forstaae Barnet, især hvis det tillige viste sig bedrøvet ved at maatte lyde Forældrenes Forbud, thi saa var det jo aabenbart, at Barnet hellere end gjerne vilde som de uartige Børn, og det var let nok at indsee, ja at see, hvad det var, som holdt Barnet tilbage. Men naar Forældrene ikke ere tilstede, saa kunne de uartige Børn ikke forstaae det strengt opdragne. De tænke som saa: enten maa dette Barn slet ikke have saadanne Lyster som vi andre Børn, men det er jo tosset og sært; eller det har maaskee nok Lysterne, men tør ikke – dog hvorfor tør det ikke, Forældrene ere jo ikke tilstede, see det er igjen tosset og sært. Man kan derfor ingenlunde ligefrem kalde det Skadefryd eller Ondskab af de mindre artige Børn, at de dømme saaledes om det strengt opdragne, o, nei de mene det maaskee endog paa deres Viis ret godt med det. De forstaae ikke det strengt opdragne Barn, de synes selv godt om deres Uartigheder, og derfor ville de, at det skal tage Deel med dem, og være en rask Dreng – ligesom de andre. – Anvendelsen af dette Billede er let at gjøre. Verden kan slet ikke faae det i sit Hoved (og det er da heller ikke Tilfældet), at en Christen ikke skulde have samme Lyster og Lidenskaber, som Verden har. Men dersom han har dem, saa kan den endnu mindre faae i sit Hoved, hvorfor han af Frygt for en Usynlig tosset nok vil tvinge de efter Verdens Begreb uskyldige og tilladelige Lyster, som det endog »er Pligt at søge«, hvorfor han vil tvinge den Selvkjerlighed, som Verden kalder ikke blot uskyldig, men priselig, hvorfor han vil tvinge den Vrede, som Verden ikke blot anseer for naturlig men for Kjendet paa en Mand og en Mands Ære, hvorfor han altsaa paa en dobbelt Maade vil gjøre sig selv ulykkelig: først ved ikke at faae Lysterne tilfredsstillede, og dernæst ved til Løn derfor at blive udleet af Verden.

Close English

Let me illuminate this relation with a simple image which I have often used, though in a varied way—it is so fruitful, so instructive and so characteristic. When a strictly brought-up child is together with naughty or less well-behaved children, and will not participate with them in their naughtiness, which they themselves, at least to a large extent, do not consider naughtiness, the naughty children can explain this only by supposing that the child must be an odd and foolish child. They do not notice that the relation can be explained in another way: by the strictly brought-up child’s always having with it, wherever it is, the parents’ measure for what it may and may not do. If the parents were visibly present, so that the naughty children saw them, they would be better able to understand the child, especially if it also showed sorrow at having to obey the parents’ prohibition. For then it would be evident that the child would more than gladly do as the naughty children did, and it would be easy enough to understand, indeed to see, what was holding it back. But when the parents are not present, the naughty children cannot understand the strictly brought-up child. They think something like this: either this child must not have such desires at all as we other children, but that is foolish and odd; or perhaps it does have the desires, but does not dare—yet why does it not dare, since the parents are not present? See, that is again foolish and odd. One cannot therefore by any means directly call it malicious pleasure or wickedness on the part of the less well-behaved children that they judge the strictly brought-up child in this way. Oh no, perhaps in their way they even mean quite well by it. They do not understand the strictly brought-up child, they themselves like their naughtiness, and therefore they wish it to join in with them and be a lively boy—like the others.

The application of this image is easy to make. The world cannot at all get it into its head—and it is not the case either—that a Christian should not have the same desires and passions as the world. But if he has them, it can still less get it into its head why, out of fear of an Invisible One, he would foolishly enough restrain the desires which according to the world’s conception are innocent and permissible, which it is even “a duty to seek”; why he would restrain the self-love which the world calls not only innocent but praiseworthy; why he would restrain the anger which the world regards not only as natural but as the mark of a man and of a man’s honour; why, therefore, he would make himself unhappy in a double way: first by not having his desires satisfied, and then by being laughed at by the world as his reward.

Danish

Man seer let, at Selvfornegtelsen her er rigtigt mærket: den har Dobbelt-Mærket. Just fordi dette er saaledes, fordi ganske rigtigt Den, som vil for Alvor søge at efterkomme det, vil geraade i dobbelt Fare, just derfor sige vi, at det er de Christnes Pligt: at blive i Kjerlighedens Gjeld til hverandre.

Close English

It is easy to see that self-denial here is rightly marked: it has the double mark. Precisely because this is so, because quite rightly the person who earnestly wishes to seek to fulfil it will fall into double danger, precisely for this reason we say that it is the duty of Christians: to remain in the debt of love to one another.