Selections from the Writings of KierkegaardKierkegaard, Søren
Religion
Selections from the Writings of Kierkegaard
Kierkegaard, Søren
Philosophy; Theology
It stands by the parting of the ways where worldly and earthly
sufferings have set down their crosses, and calls out: Come
hither, all ye poor and wretched ones, ye who in poverty must
slave in order to assure yourselves, not of a care-free, but of
a toilsome, future; ah, bitter contradiction, to have to slave
for--assuring one's self of that under which one groans, of that
which one flees! Ye despised and overlooked ones, about whose
existence no one, aye, no one is concerned, not so much even as
about some domestic animal which is of greater value! Ye sick,
and halt, and blind, and deaf, and crippled, come hither!--Ye
bed-ridden, aye, come hither, ye too; for the invitation makes
bold to invite even the bed-ridden--to come! Ye lepers; for the
invitation breaks down all differences in order to unite all,
it wishes to make good the hardship caused by the difference
in men, the difference which seats one as a ruler over millions,
in possession of all gifts of fortune, and drives another one
out into the wilderness--and why? (ah, the cruelty of it!) because
(ah, the cruel human inference!) because he is wretched, indescribably
wretched. Why then? Because he stands in need of help, or at
any rate, of compassion. And why, then? Because human compassion
is a wretched thing which is cruel when there is the greatest
need of being compassionate, and compassionate only when, at
bottom, it is not true compassion! Ye sick of heart, ye who only
through your anguish learned to know that a man's heart and an
animal's heart are two different things, and what it means to be
sick at heart--what it means when the physician may be right in
declaring one sound of heart and yet heart-sick; ye whom faithlessness
deceived and whom human sympathy--for the sympathy of man is
rarely late in coming--whom human sympathy made a target for
mockery; all ye wronged and aggrieved and ill-used; all ye noble
ones who, as any and everybody will be able to tell you, deservedly
reap the reward of ingratitude (for why were ye simple enough
to be noble, why foolish enough to be kindly, and disinterested,
and faithful)--all ye victims of cunning, of deceit, of backbiting,
of envy, whom baseness chose as its victim and cowardice left
in the lurch, whether now ye be sacrificed in remote and lonely
places, after having crept away in order to die, or whether ye
be trampled underfoot in the thronging crowds where no one asks
what rights ye have, and no one, what wrongs ye suffer, and no
one, where ye smart or how ye smart, whilst the crowd with brute
force tramples you into the dust--come ye hither!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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