II

He who invites is, then, Jesus Christ in his abasement, it is he

who spoke these words of invitation. It is not from his glory

that they are spoken. If that were the case, then Christianity

were heathendom and the name of Christ taken in vain, and for

this reason it cannot be so. But if it were the case that he who

is enthroned in glory had said these words: Come hither--as though

it were so altogether easy a matter to be clasped in the arms of

glory--well, what wonder, then, if crowds of men ran to him! But

they who thus throng to him merely go on a wild goose chase,

imagining they know who Christ is. But that no one knows; and

in order to believe in him one has to begin with his abasement.

He who invites and speaks these words, that is, he whose words

they are--whereas the same words if spoken by some one else are,

as we have seen, an historic falsification--he is the same lowly

Jesus Christ, the humble man, born of a despised maiden, whose

father is a carpenter, related to other simple folk of the very

lowest class, the lowly man who at the same time (which, to be

sure, is like oil poured on the fire) affirms himself to be God.

It is the lowly Jesus Christ who spoke these words. And no word

of Christ, not a single one, have you permission to appropriate

to yourself, you have not the least share in him, are not in any

way of his company, if you have not become his contemporary in

lowliness in such fashion that you have become aware, precisely

like his contemporaries, of his warning: "Blessed is he whosoever

shall not be offended in me.[10]" You have no right to accept

Christ's words, and then lie him away; you have no right to accept

Christ's words, and then in a fantastic manner, and with the aid

of history, utterly change the nature of Christ; for the chatter

of history about him is literally not worth a fig.

It is Jesus Christ in his lowliness who is the speaker. It

is historically true that h e said these words; but so soon as

one makes a change in his historic status, it is false to say

that these words were spoken by him.

This poor and lowly man, then, with twelve poor fellows as his

disciples, all from the lowest class of society, for some time

an object of curiosity, but later on in company only with sinners,

publicans, lepers, and madmen; for one risked honor, life, and

property, or at any rate (and that we know for sure) exclusion

from the synagogue, by even letting one's self be helped by

him--come hither now, all ye that labor and are heavy laden!

Ah, my friend, even if you were deaf and blind and lame and

leprous, if you, which has never been seen or heard before,

united all human miseries in your misery--and if he wished to

help you by a miracle: it is possible that (as is human) you

would fear more than all your sufferings the punishment which

was set on accepting aid from him, the punishment of being cast

out from the society of other men, of being ridiculed and mocked,

day after day, and perhaps of losing your life. It is human

(and it is characteristic of being human) were you to think

as follows: "no, thank you, in that case I prefer to remain deaf

and blind and lame and leprous, rather than accept aid under

such conditions."

"Come hither, come hither, all, ye that labor and are heavy

laden, ah, come hither," lo! he invites you and opens his arms.

Ah, when a gentlemanly man clad in a silken gown says this in

a pleasant, harmonious voice so that the words pleasantly resound

in the handsome vaulted church, a man in silk who radiates honor

and respect on all who listen to him; ah, when a king in purple

and velvet says this, with the Christmas tree in the background

on which are hanging all the splendid gifts he intends to distribute,

why, then of course there is some meaning in these words! But

whatever meaning you may attach to them, so much is sure that

it is not Christianity, but the exact opposite, something as

diametrically opposed to Christianity as may well be; for remember

who it is that invites!

And now judge for yourself--for that you have a right to do;

whereas men really do not have a right to do what is so often

done, viz. to deceive themselves. That a man of such appearance,

a man whose company every one shuns who has the least bit of sense

in his head, or the least bit to lose in the world, that he--well,

this is the absurdest and maddest thing of all, one hardly knows

whether to laugh or to weep about it--that he--indeed, that is

the very last word one would expect to issue from his mouth; for

if he had said: "Come hither and help me," or: "Leave me alone,"

or: "Spare me," or proudly: "I despise you all," we could understand

that perfectly--but that such a man says: "Come hither to me!" why,

I declare, that looks inviting indeed! And still further: "All

ye that labor and are heavy laden"--as though such folk were

not burdened enough with troubles, as though they now, to cap

all, should be exposed to the consequences of associating with

him. And then, finally: "I shall give you rest." What's that?--he

help them? Ah, I am sure even the most good-natured joker who

was contemporary with him would have to say: "Surely, that was

the thing he should have undertaken last of all--to wish to

help others, being in that condition himself! Why, it is about

the same as if a beggar were to inform the police that he had

been robbed. For it is a contradiction that one who has nothing,

and has had nothing, informs us that he has been robbed; and

likewise, to wish to help others when one's self needs help

most." Indeed it is, humanly speaking, the most harebrained

contradiction, that he who literally "hath not where to lay

his head," that he about whom it was spoken truly, in a human

sense, "Behold the man!"--that he should say: "Come hither unto

me all ye that suffer--I shall help!"

Now examine yourself--for that you have a right to do. You have

a right to examine yourself, but you really do not have a right

to let yourself without self-examination be deluded by "the

others" into the belief, or to delude yourself into the belief,

that you are a Christian--therefore examine yourself: supposing

you were contemporary with him! True enough he--alas! he affirmed

himself to be God! But many another madman has made that claim--and

his times gave it as their opinion that he uttered blasphemy.

Why, was not that precisely the reason why a punishment was

threatened for allowing one's self to be aided by him? It was

the godly care for their souls entertained by the existing order

and by public opinion, lest any one should be led astray: it was

this godly care that led them to persecute him in this fashion.

Therefore, before any one resolves to be helped by him, let him

consider that he must not only expect the antagonism of men,

but--consider it well!--even if you could bear the consequences

of that step--but consider well, that the punishment meted out

by men is supposed to be God's punishment of him, "the blasphemer"--of

him who invites!

Come hither now all ye that labor and are heavy laden!

How now? Surely this is nothing to run after--some little pause

is given, which is most fittingly used to go around about by way

of another street. And even if you should not thus sneak out in

some way--always providing you feel yourself to be contemporary

with him--or sneak into being some kind of Christian by belonging

to Christendom: yet there will be a tremendous pause given, the

pause which is the very condition that faith may arise: you are

given pause by the possibility of being offended in him.

But in order to make it entirely clear, and bring it home to our

minds, that the pause is given by him who invites, that it is he

who gives us pause and renders it by no means an easy, but a

peculiarly difficult, matter to follow his invitation, because

one has no right to accept it without accepting also him who

invites--in order to make this entirely clear I shall briefly

review his life under two aspects which, to be sure, show some

difference though both essentially pertain to his abasement.

For it is always an abasement for God to become man, even if

he were to be an emperor of emperors; and therefore he is not

essentially more abased because he is a poor, lowly man, mocked,

and as Scripture adds,[11] spat upon.

Selections from the Writings of Kierkegaard · 第 28 / 47 题