The Concept of Anxiety: A Simple Psychologically Oriented Deliberation in View of the Dogmatic Problem of Hereditary Sin

Next, Kierkegaard discusses anxiety’s relationship to paganism, which Kierkegaard defines not necessarily as the belief in multiple gods, but as lack of belief or knowledge of the Christian God, which is why Kierkegaard also speaks of “Christian paganism” (94). 

Due to this lack, Kierkegaard argues ancient paganism “stretches out time” and “never arrives at sin in the deepest sense” (93). Christian paganism differs in that it also lacks spirit while still acknowledging spirit, a condition that Kierkegaard describes as “spiritlessness.” Kierkegaard argues it is, in a way, worse than ancient paganism, which had “the absence of spirit,” because Christian paganism is “the stagnation of spirit and the caricature of ideality” (95, emphasis added). Anxiety still exists within spiritlessness and its impact is worse, especially when anxiety comes in the form of the fear of one’s imminent death.

Although Kierkegaard described ancient paganism as having an absence of spirit, he clarifies that ancient paganism did have a concept of spirit, but he adds it was “not in the deepest sense.” Along with this conception of spirit, paganism had a sense of anxiety that had its “object” (97) in fate. Paganism literally could not develop a deep sense of guilt and sin, because these concepts stand in contradiction to their notion of fate. Specifically, he questions how, if fate dictates all human actions, anyone could be guilty of anything. Kierkegaard traces the traditional understanding of hereditary sin, namely the mistaken idea that all people are born with sin, to this idea of fate. Hereditary sin is basically the idea that all humans are fated to be guilty of sin.

Kierkegaard relates this discussion to geniuses, who experience this kind of pagan anxiety when they experience spirit but do not understand it as such. While the spiritless ignore fate as “foolishness” (98), geniuses can develop their understanding of fate with spirit into a comprehension of Providence, which is God’s influence over history and people’s lives. Although fate itself is “nothing,” the genius believes in their own great destiny and “bestows” it with “omnipotent significance.” Even then, fate in the case of a genius is just the “anticipation of providence” (99). It is the genius’s relationship with their perceived and anticipated fate that causes their anxiety. The problem is that the genius who does not become religious becomes so preoccupied with their fate and their actions in the world that they do “not become significant” (101) to themselves, meaning they never “satisfy the hunger of the wishing soul” (102).

Guilt replaces anxiety with repentance. At the same time, anxiety often emerges as a person being afraid to face their own guilt. Kierkegaard believes that anxiety in Judaism is centered around guilt, much the same way that ancient pagan anxiety was manifested with fate. Kierkegaard argues that Judaism only seeks in vain to achieve repentance through religious sacrifice, like how ancient pagans depended on oracles, instead of “the cancellation of the relation of anxiety to guilt” (104) through the Christian understanding of sin and belief in the Atonement. Geniuses only stand apart because they are born with an innate understanding of the past, which gives them a preemptive comprehension of Providence.

Kierkegaard laments how, in his own time, people “only learn how to drive ourselves, our neighbors, and the moment to death—in the pursuit of the moment” instead of contemplating “how my religious existence comes into relation with and expresses itself in my outward existence” (105). Instead, Kierkegaard argues individuality can only truly be achieved through “religious reflection” (106), something that has declined in his time. In the Middle Ages, people went too far with this, subsuming their own individuality and talents for the sake of religion. This does not seem to be necessary or desirable, in Kierkegaard’s view. For instance, he describes a hypothetical individual artist who, despite painting a non-religious subject, still invoked a religious fervor in their dedication to their art.

The religious genius “turns toward himself” (107). By doing so, they also turn toward God and their own guilt. The genius is born with an understanding of guilt and innocence, much the same way they are born with an understanding of fate. By turning inward and facing their guilt, such a person also discovers freedom, which is not “defiance” or “selfish,” but it is instead the “opposite” (108) of guilt. 

Specifically, freedom operates as the personal and internal choice to face guilt and achieve repentance. At the same time, guilt has a “dialectical character” (109), meaning it is composed of two opposing concepts. By this, Kierkegaard means that guilt cannot be transferred somewhere else, but at the same time, guilt is not just an internally created emotion since it also comes from what caused the guilt.