Paul Tillich on 'The Courage to Be'
The
following extracts some of the key ideas from Tillich’s book The Courage to Be.[1]
Tillich claims that ‘[c]ourage is usually described as the power of the mind to overcome fear’ (43) and that ‘anxiety is the state in which a being is aware of its possible non-being, or anxiety is the existential awareness of non-being’ (44). It is not the transitoriness of everything or the death of others ‘but the impression of these events on the always latent awareness of our own having to die, that produces anxiety. Anxiety is finitude, experienced as one’s own finitude’ (44). This anxiety afflicts all human beings and to some extent all living beings.
Fear has a definite object which can be ‘faced, analysed, attacked, endured’ (44). Courage is able to ‘meet every object of fear, because it is an object which makes participation possible’ (45). As long as fear has an object, it can be conquered by love. But anxiety has no object, or has as its object ‘the negation of every object’ (45). Thus, ‘participation, struggle and love with respect to it are impossible’ (45). Anxiety therefore leads to helplessness in both human beings and animals. ‘Fear is being afraid of something, a pain, the rejection by a person or a group, the loss of something or somebody, the moment of dying’ (46), but what is frightening is not the negativity which these will bring on the subject, but anxiety about the implications of the negativity (ibid). Fear of dying is fear of being killed by illness or accident and experiencing great pain and the loss of everything. But anxiety about death is about the unknown after death; the threat is the threat of nothingness. Thus, anxiety ‘is always the anxiety of ultimate non-being’ (47). The root cause of anxiety in any situation is the anxiety of being unable to preserve one’s own being (47).
Anxiety therefore ‘strives to become fear, because fear can be met by courage’ (47). Ultimately, however, ‘attempts to transform anxiety into fear are vain. The basic anxiety, the anxiety of a finite being about the threat of non-being, cannot be eliminated. It belongs to existence itself’ (48).
There are three kinds of anxiety – anxiety about
1. fate and death (the anxiety of death),
2. emptiness and loss of meaning (the anxiety of meaninglessness), and
3. guilt and condemnation (anxiety of condemnation).
In each case the anxiety is existential in that it belongs to existence and is not the product of an abnormal state of mind (49). And they are not mutually exclusive (49-50).
Tillich comments on the three kinds of anxiety as follows:
1. ‘The anxiety of fate and death is most basic, most universal, and inescapable. Even if the so-called arguments for the “immortality of the soul” had argumentative power … they would not convince existentially, for existentially everybody is aware of the complete loss of self which biological distinction implies’ (50). Some suggest that anxiety about death is reduced in collectivistic as opposed to individualized civilizations (50), but Tillich argues that if this were so ‘the threat of the law or of a superior enemy would be without effect’, and this is never so (51); ‘Man as man in every civilization is anxiously aware of the threat of non-being and needs the courage to affirm himself in spite of it’ (ibid).
2. ‘The anxiety of meaninglessness is anxiety about the loss of ultimate concern, of a meaning which gives meaning to all meanings. This anxiety is aroused by the loss of a spiritual centre, of an answer, however symbolic and direct, to the question of the meaning of existence’ (54-55). ‘Emptiness and loss of meaning are expressions of the threat of non-being to the spiritual life’ (55). A system of ideas and values may be emptied not only by personal doubt but by the realization that those ideas and values no longer have their original power to express the human situation and answer existential questions – as is the case with the symbols of Christian doctrine. Alternatively, it may be that they no longer have meaning because the present is so different from the time at which the symbols were created (57).
3. Even our best deeds contain an element of non-being because they are not perfect (59). Thus we suffer the relative anxiety of guilt and the absolute anxiety of self-rejection or condemnation (58).
Tillich offers his solution to the problem in his final chapter, ‘Courage and Transcendence [The Courage to Accept Acceptance]’. He claims that ‘[c]ourage is the self-affirmation of being in spite of the fact of non-being. It is the act of the individual self in taking the anxiety of non-being upon itself by affirming itself either as part of an embracing whole or in its individual selfhood’ (152). Those who are said to be courageous attempt to transcend themselves and their world in order ‘to find the power of being-itself and a courage to be which is beyond the threat of non-being’ (ibid). Every example of courage has a religious root, whether acknowledged or not, because ‘religion is the state of being grasped by the power of being itself” (152-153).
For Tillich,“[p]rovidence is not a theory about some activities of God; it is the religious symbol of the courage of confidence with respect to fate and death. For the courage of confidence says in spite of even to death’ (163). Faith ‘is not a theoretical affirmation of something uncertain, it is the existential acceptance of something transcending ordinary experience. It is the state of being grasped by the power of being which transcends everything that is and in which everything that is participates’ (168).
In our time, it is not the anxiety of fate and death or of guilt and condemnation but the anxiety of doubt and meaninglessness which is dominant (168). A leap from doubt to dogmatic certitude is not the answer; while this may give the courage to be to the converted, it does not show how that courage is possible (170). Tillich claims that ‘[t]here is only one possible answer, if one does not try to escape the question: namely that the acceptance of despair is in itself faith and on the boundary line of the courage to be. In this situation the meaning of life is reduced to despair about the meaning of life. But as long as this despair is an act of life it is positive in its negativity’ (170). Thus, he argues, ‘[t]he faith which makes the courage of despair possible is the acceptance of the power of being, even in the grip of non-being. Even in the despair about meaning being affirms itself through us. The act of accepting meaninglessness is in itself a meaningful act. It is an act of faith’ (171).
The characteristics of absolute faith are:
1. Experience of the power of being which is present ‘even in the most radical manifestation of non-being’ (170).
2. Dependence of the experience of non-being on the experience of being, and dependence of the experience of meaninglessness on the experience of meaning. Even when one despairs, one has enough being to make despair possible (170-171).
3. The acceptance of being accepted. There is nobody/nothing that accepts, but ‘there is the power of acceptance itself which is experienced’ (171). To accept the power of acceptance is ‘the religious answer of absolute faith, of a faith which has been deprived by doubt of any concrete content, which nevertheless is faith and the source of the most paradoxical manifestation of the courage to be’ (171).
For Tillich, ‘[t]here are no valid arguments for the existence of God, but there are acts of courage in which we affirm the power of being, whether we know it or not’ (175-176); ‘[t]heism in all its forms is transcended in the experience we have called absolute faith. It is the accepting of the acceptance without somebody or something that accepts. It is the power of being-itself that accepts and gives the courage to be’ (179).
Tillich claims that the traditional symbols which helped us to endure fate and death have lost their power. Providence has become superstition, and immortality is imaginary – but the power which was in these symbols ‘can still be present and create the courage to be in spite of the experience of a chaotic world and a finite existence’ (182). Even if we understand divine judgment in terms of a psychological complex, and forgiveness as ‘a remnant of the father-image’, the power of these symbols ‘can still be present and create the courage to be in spite of the experience of an infinite gap between what we are and what we ought to be’ (183).
Elizabeth Burns, December 2013
[1] (Glasgow: Collins) 1952.
Tillich claims that ‘[c]ourage is usually described as the power of the mind to overcome fear’ (43) and that ‘anxiety is the state in which a being is aware of its possible non-being, or anxiety is the existential awareness of non-being’ (44). It is not the transitoriness of everything or the death of others ‘but the impression of these events on the always latent awareness of our own having to die, that produces anxiety. Anxiety is finitude, experienced as one’s own finitude’ (44). This anxiety afflicts all human beings and to some extent all living beings.
Fear has a definite object which can be ‘faced, analysed, attacked, endured’ (44). Courage is able to ‘meet every object of fear, because it is an object which makes participation possible’ (45). As long as fear has an object, it can be conquered by love. But anxiety has no object, or has as its object ‘the negation of every object’ (45). Thus, ‘participation, struggle and love with respect to it are impossible’ (45). Anxiety therefore leads to helplessness in both human beings and animals. ‘Fear is being afraid of something, a pain, the rejection by a person or a group, the loss of something or somebody, the moment of dying’ (46), but what is frightening is not the negativity which these will bring on the subject, but anxiety about the implications of the negativity (ibid). Fear of dying is fear of being killed by illness or accident and experiencing great pain and the loss of everything. But anxiety about death is about the unknown after death; the threat is the threat of nothingness. Thus, anxiety ‘is always the anxiety of ultimate non-being’ (47). The root cause of anxiety in any situation is the anxiety of being unable to preserve one’s own being (47).
Anxiety therefore ‘strives to become fear, because fear can be met by courage’ (47). Ultimately, however, ‘attempts to transform anxiety into fear are vain. The basic anxiety, the anxiety of a finite being about the threat of non-being, cannot be eliminated. It belongs to existence itself’ (48).
There are three kinds of anxiety – anxiety about
1. fate and death (the anxiety of death),
2. emptiness and loss of meaning (the anxiety of meaninglessness), and
3. guilt and condemnation (anxiety of condemnation).
In each case the anxiety is existential in that it belongs to existence and is not the product of an abnormal state of mind (49). And they are not mutually exclusive (49-50).
Tillich comments on the three kinds of anxiety as follows:
1. ‘The anxiety of fate and death is most basic, most universal, and inescapable. Even if the so-called arguments for the “immortality of the soul” had argumentative power … they would not convince existentially, for existentially everybody is aware of the complete loss of self which biological distinction implies’ (50). Some suggest that anxiety about death is reduced in collectivistic as opposed to individualized civilizations (50), but Tillich argues that if this were so ‘the threat of the law or of a superior enemy would be without effect’, and this is never so (51); ‘Man as man in every civilization is anxiously aware of the threat of non-being and needs the courage to affirm himself in spite of it’ (ibid).
2. ‘The anxiety of meaninglessness is anxiety about the loss of ultimate concern, of a meaning which gives meaning to all meanings. This anxiety is aroused by the loss of a spiritual centre, of an answer, however symbolic and direct, to the question of the meaning of existence’ (54-55). ‘Emptiness and loss of meaning are expressions of the threat of non-being to the spiritual life’ (55). A system of ideas and values may be emptied not only by personal doubt but by the realization that those ideas and values no longer have their original power to express the human situation and answer existential questions – as is the case with the symbols of Christian doctrine. Alternatively, it may be that they no longer have meaning because the present is so different from the time at which the symbols were created (57).
3. Even our best deeds contain an element of non-being because they are not perfect (59). Thus we suffer the relative anxiety of guilt and the absolute anxiety of self-rejection or condemnation (58).
Tillich offers his solution to the problem in his final chapter, ‘Courage and Transcendence [The Courage to Accept Acceptance]’. He claims that ‘[c]ourage is the self-affirmation of being in spite of the fact of non-being. It is the act of the individual self in taking the anxiety of non-being upon itself by affirming itself either as part of an embracing whole or in its individual selfhood’ (152). Those who are said to be courageous attempt to transcend themselves and their world in order ‘to find the power of being-itself and a courage to be which is beyond the threat of non-being’ (ibid). Every example of courage has a religious root, whether acknowledged or not, because ‘religion is the state of being grasped by the power of being itself” (152-153).
For Tillich,“[p]rovidence is not a theory about some activities of God; it is the religious symbol of the courage of confidence with respect to fate and death. For the courage of confidence says in spite of even to death’ (163). Faith ‘is not a theoretical affirmation of something uncertain, it is the existential acceptance of something transcending ordinary experience. It is the state of being grasped by the power of being which transcends everything that is and in which everything that is participates’ (168).
In our time, it is not the anxiety of fate and death or of guilt and condemnation but the anxiety of doubt and meaninglessness which is dominant (168). A leap from doubt to dogmatic certitude is not the answer; while this may give the courage to be to the converted, it does not show how that courage is possible (170). Tillich claims that ‘[t]here is only one possible answer, if one does not try to escape the question: namely that the acceptance of despair is in itself faith and on the boundary line of the courage to be. In this situation the meaning of life is reduced to despair about the meaning of life. But as long as this despair is an act of life it is positive in its negativity’ (170). Thus, he argues, ‘[t]he faith which makes the courage of despair possible is the acceptance of the power of being, even in the grip of non-being. Even in the despair about meaning being affirms itself through us. The act of accepting meaninglessness is in itself a meaningful act. It is an act of faith’ (171).
The characteristics of absolute faith are:
1. Experience of the power of being which is present ‘even in the most radical manifestation of non-being’ (170).
2. Dependence of the experience of non-being on the experience of being, and dependence of the experience of meaninglessness on the experience of meaning. Even when one despairs, one has enough being to make despair possible (170-171).
3. The acceptance of being accepted. There is nobody/nothing that accepts, but ‘there is the power of acceptance itself which is experienced’ (171). To accept the power of acceptance is ‘the religious answer of absolute faith, of a faith which has been deprived by doubt of any concrete content, which nevertheless is faith and the source of the most paradoxical manifestation of the courage to be’ (171).
For Tillich, ‘[t]here are no valid arguments for the existence of God, but there are acts of courage in which we affirm the power of being, whether we know it or not’ (175-176); ‘[t]heism in all its forms is transcended in the experience we have called absolute faith. It is the accepting of the acceptance without somebody or something that accepts. It is the power of being-itself that accepts and gives the courage to be’ (179).
Tillich claims that the traditional symbols which helped us to endure fate and death have lost their power. Providence has become superstition, and immortality is imaginary – but the power which was in these symbols ‘can still be present and create the courage to be in spite of the experience of a chaotic world and a finite existence’ (182). Even if we understand divine judgment in terms of a psychological complex, and forgiveness as ‘a remnant of the father-image’, the power of these symbols ‘can still be present and create the courage to be in spite of the experience of an infinite gap between what we are and what we ought to be’ (183).
Elizabeth Burns, December 2013
[1] (Glasgow: Collins) 1952.