April 2, 2021 Anno Domini
On love and the unbearable lightness of being
There is a famous existential saying by Milan Kundera that titles his book– "the unbearable lightness of being". A book like that details your typical brokenness story, affairs, a dog, etc. But the whole existential "mood" being conveyed in this post-war/war hyper realistic narrative is to explore the theme of existence at the forefront of some human stories. Aquinas posits that to exist is better than not to exist, and it's a neutral affair, morally. But since we are moral agents, putting existence to the forefront begets the question– what is the meaning of life? This unbearable lightness of being described is kind of a malaise attitude against existing, because at its root, the world and life seem utterly devoid of meaning. While many will brush it off as a war/post-war or even European story, existentialism revels in the subjectivity because there is no escaping the context; might as well embrace it and describe how it is as it is lived.
That being said, I believe underpinning it all is a theological point of phenomenological priority. Gentiles have the law written in their hearts, some people call it conscience (where Christ urges you to do good). During this Holy Week, I had the privilege of reflecting more on the existential roots of my Christianity. The theological point is a kind of pre-ontological character of being redeemed but not explicitly knowing it. And even when one knows it, there is a character of remorse, so much so that it feels unbearable. The classic examples of this unbearable lightness of being in a theological context, I argue, is in Judas and St. Peter.
For Judas, feeling the character of betraying one's master for the price of a slave overfills him with remorse due to Christ's already imminent suffering which he had accepted, and this unbearable lightness of being– of knowing that one could have such a crime he commited unburden him– is unbearable to his being. St. Paul says "love bears all things", and with the love extended to even Judas, Judas chose to reject it and give in to being tormented by demons for his choice– those evil ones. And so Judas chose to end all that suffering because he believes he is unworthy of that love extended to him, resorting to a final solution. In that face of being unburdened, that lightness is unbearable for Judas, in other words.
With St. Peter, his willingness to defend Christ, and his ardent leadership quality in carrying Christ's mission, was graced with his sudden confession in Caesarea Philippi: "You are the Christ, the Son of the living God" (Matthew 16:16). His disposition to grace, notwithstanding, does not prevent him from being free from also denying Christ– three times in fact. And when St. Peter knew it when the cock crowed, he was filled with remorse "and wept bitterly" (Lk 22:62). Yet he became our first Pope. But the future aside, at that moment St. Peter also felt the unbearable lightness of being, even if it's just as vague as Judas' compared to the moment before he experienced the risen Lord. He was unburdened because despite Jesus predicting his denial perfectly, Jesus still gazed at him with love. Receiving this free gift of love may seem unbearable because of how unburdening it is, one feels like they do not deserve it. Even St. Peter took time after immediately "[rising] and [running] to the tomb; stooping and looking in, [St. Peter] saw the linen cloths by themselves, and he went home wondering what had happened".
For me, just recently too. I've been praying for help against one of my main struggles with sin. Spiritual warfare is annoying sometimes. I ask for better help against temptations for a sin I struggle with, and I get harder temptations, which is supposed to strengthen me. But even after realizing I’ve been given help to conquer it (I grabbed my bible and read Psalm 56 and then Psalm 57), I still feel somewhat remorseful? Being given that help of love made me realize the lightness of my own being, and it certainly felt unbearable because I felt like I didn't deserve it. Perhaps it’s the mood of Good Friday but no one ever said sadness or regret isn’t good when one remains hopeful.
I posit that the centrality of being given such an overflowing and overpowering love– the power of the cross– structures our very existence and our relationship with existing in general in such a way that for those who do not yet know the Gospel, feels like an unbearable lightness of being. The people of Israel were caught up in being involved in the family of God, despite many times trying to unburden themselves with these rituals. God remains adamant about reminding them of who and what they are. One may think I am saying that this fundamental shift only pertains to us after Christ but I argue it is even before, albeit veiled (as with St. Peter and Judas above and even with Isaiah, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, etc.). The salvation Jesus offered to the whole world, which He did once for all, rings in the hearts of every human being of all times.
We certainly have other things that characterize and orient our existence, that we are involved in worlds and have this character of being thrown into the world, yet upon really examining it, there is a characteristic lightness, and our very being finds that lightness unbearable. Why do we exist? Is there anything to my existence if there is nothing to put on it? When we get to the root of things, especially in our existence, we can only describe what we see. But what a blessing it is that we can encounter the world out there and find ways to look at things differently. The claims of the Bible are very amazing if one takes it seriously, it does not add upon our character but explains it more clearly– because we are not just anthropological beings but also theological beings– we relate to being that is outside of ourselves and have faith in that otherness in a very primordial way. The gift of faith is given to us, and also overwhelms us.
What happens when we have an abundance of a free gift of love given to us? We want to deny it, characteristically, because we don't deserve it; we say in our hearts"let this cup pass from me", and Jesus said this as well as "but not my will but Yours" (referring to the Father; Matthew 26:39). In Gethsemane He draws His human nature and our human nature to unite it with God's will, to fulfill the needs based on who and what we are. So Jesus commands us (hence Maundy Thursday) to "love one another, as I have loved you" (Jn 13:34). In other words, pay it forward, spread that love to others, that our being may be made bearable in imitation of the source of our being. If God is the ground of all our being, and God is love (and not just a moral imperative) (1 John 4:8), then underlying our being (i.e. being ad extra, or "being without") that structures it is in this root of love, love begets faith and hope, the cardinal virtues. And so in receiving love, one should also beget those fruits of hope (also a gift) and nurture the gift of faith (which also bears fruit). To deal with existence is to be subsumed in that which undergirds our existence, that is something while also being something other of our being, that which is outside time, and yet is who He is.
