Goodnight, Nietzsche!
Jesus looked at him and said, “How hard it is for the rich to enter the kingdom of God! Indeed, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.”
- Luke 18:24-25
A year ago I was neck deep in the writings of Nietzsche, Schopenhauer and a host of other materialist/existentialist/pessimistic thinkers. I found myself somewhat obsessed because it was the only thing that made sense to me at the time. I was convinced that life was meaningless, or at least that’s what I thought was being echoed back to me in my life. No matter what I did, I couldn’t break away from the negativity.
I now understand why.
According to Nietzsche, there are two types of morality: master and slave. Master morality is the morality of power and dominance. It suggests that because life is meaningless, the only worthy morality is one that is made up by powerful men (essentially). Think kings, tyrants, womanizers. It basically suggests that if you accumulate enough power - physically, mentally, morally and financially - you can create the world as you see fit and do whatever you please. Slave morality, is the morality of the “weak”. It is the morality that justifies poverty, equality and peace. To Nietzsche, Christianity - with its “do onto others as you would have done unto you” - was the highest example of slave morality. He saw it as lesser, weaker and rooted in manipulation.
As I look back on my life I realize that I encountered this dichotomy earlier in my life, and the ensuing mental battle informed much of my trials and tribulations. Today I’m grateful for all of it, as it all led me here, but I think it’s worth revisiting. Perhaps there are situation in your life that bring up a similar battle.
A few years ago I met a man. He was tall, extremely muscular and very outgoing. We met at a gym, and he flirted with every girl who came in. He was married and would eventually have children with his life. He seemed like a decent enough guy, until I learned about his secrets.
Although he was married, he would bring women back to his apartment to have violent sex with them on his couch while his wife (and eventually pregnant wife) slept in the room next door. They had some sort of “arrangement” that turned out to not be an arrangement at all but a ploy to convince his mistresses to sleep with him. Apparently it worked. Apparently he got away with it, unscathed. Eventually I left the gym and never heard about him again.
To most this would probably sound like some fucked-up porn fantasy, but to me it led to a crack in my metaphysical framework. This was sparked by my liking for one of his women (I was unaware), and my eventually understanding of these things. I didn’t have words for it at the time, but I now realize that I encountered the embodiment of master morality. This man did whatever he wanted, got whatever he wanted, and got away with it all. He was even seen as a “great guy” in the community. It brought up many contradictions within me.
Above all was disgust. How could you consciously do that to someone (his wife)? Why not just do what most cheaters do and get a hotel? I eventually came to the conclusion that it was all about power and dominance - why else would any “sane” human behave that way?
My other reaction was more alarming. It was subtle, but it was loud. I was jealous - not in the sense of wanting a wife to cheat on but rather because I knew that was something I would never be able to do. I just don’t have it me to be so brash and cruel, and that fact scared me. He never got caught and continued to be loved by those around him, and in a materialistic worldview would that not be the ideal? “Do what thou wilt,” as Aleister Crowley would say. There was no cosmic justice, no punishment, no consequences (or so it seemed). By believing in God (I did at the time), was I just kidding myself? Was my inherent desire to be good just a flaw of weakness? Was I just a “nice guy” who lacked the power to get everything I wanted. A crack was formed in my metaphysical foundation, and it wouldn’t be sealed for years.
So, which one is right? Master or slave?
I like to avoid thinking in “right” and “wrong” terms. Instead, I’ll use “animal” and “spiritual”. For the animal man, master morality is of course the ideal. The same is true for the materialist and the pessimist. The only problem with this is the fact that we are not just animals. If my journey in Christianity has taught me anything thus far, it’s that we are so much more. You can call the teachings of Christ “slave morality,” but that in and of itself comes from a materialist/pessimistic worldview. Break out of that, and the truth becomes clear.
We are not meant to dominate others, to hurt others or to get everything we want despite the consequences. It’s the exact opposite - the goal of the human soul is to live entirely for others. Nietzsche can call that “weak” all he wants, but if his life is any example, I’m not sure how fruitful that outlook was. He despised Christianity, even calling himself the Antichrist, and his selfish, materialistic worldview eventually brought him to madness. After my experiences over the last few years, I completely understand why.
Today I say, “Goodnight, Nietzsche.” I am grateful for your words and your thoughts and how they opened my mind. I’m grateful for your relentless search for the truth, no matter how off-the-mark they may have been. I’m grateful that I got to see a worldview that is the complete opposite of Christianity. I’m grateful because I know what both sides look like, and I get to choose. Today, I chose Christ. Goodnight!
Integral Christianity
The devout Christian of the future will either be a ‘mystic’—someone who has ‘experienced something’—or will cease to be anything at all.
- Karl Rahner
As a civilization, our consciousness is evolving. It always has been, and it always will as long as we live as a species. Many great minds say that we are currently on a precipice, one that marks the transition from one phase to another. Our consciousness is starting moving from pure, rational duality to one of synthesis and concretization. “Yes” and “no” are slowly becoming “both”. This may make no sense to you, but the evidence is certainly out there. We are heading towards the Integral Age.
Christianity has no choice but to move in the same direction. Year by year, more and more people turn away from organized religion. As the pews empty, the ways of old cease, making way for something new. Christ is still longed for and yearned for, just as he’s always been and always will be. Today, however, we seek experience rather than dogma and spirituality rather than rules.
In our digital age, all information is at our fingertips. Many of us know about the history about the history and beliefs of different peoples, different faiths and different worldviews. The age of “we are the one and only faith and all else will burn in hell” is over. This is a good thing, as we are moving towards compassion and understanding across humanity as a whole.
With the decline of emphasis on dogma, differences in beliefs are also becoming less important. A Protestant and a Catholic and a Calvinist must no longer claim each as “other”. The Holy Church is not confined to names, peoples or churches. It includes every soul that resides under the sun. Every belief - every system - has something to offer, no matter if it’s “wrong or right”. There is more than one way to look at the world.
Mysticism - often thought of existing on the fringe - will take a center seat at the theological table. The mystics have always seen the unity in all. They have always spoken in ways that transcend religious rhetoric. In time, the rest of us will catch up them.
This is what I believe. At the very least, it’s my dream. We live in a beautiful time, a time of transition and change. It is up to us to lead the way towards the future and relieve ourselves of the bondage of judgement and pride. Yes, traditions and rituals remain timeless and always will, but everything else - all the politics and hierarchies and scandals - must be left behind. Otherwise, as Karl Rahner so intuitively stated, “the Christian of the future…will cease to be anything at all”.