Preliminary Investigation into the Relationship Between Kierkegaard and St John Klimakos (original) (raw)

**I**

Johannes Climacus is Kierkegaard’s most recognizable pseudonym. Little effort, however, has been made to explore the significance of the original St. John Climacus (hereafter: Klimakos) for Kierkegaard and his writings.^{[1]} Howard and Edna Hong offer what I call the ‘standard view’ of the relationship, stating that Kierkegaard found in this name an apt description and parody of the Danish Hegelianism.^{[2]} The sufficiency of this explanation for general purposes notwithstanding, it still does not help to explain the range of monastic or ascetic themes and influences in Kierkegaard’s writings echoed in the legacy of the name Climacus. Kierkegaard’s penchant for the monastic illuminates a potentially fruitful resource for engaging our world at present, given its inclination toward the ascetic as in the neo-monastic movements and increasing popularity of spiritual writers like Kathleen Norris who are influenced by the monastic world. Christianity “in the world” is increasingly finding something persuasive about the Christians who have left it. Therefore I argue that Kierkegaard’s affinity with ascetic or monastic thought—yet dedication to the public sphere—makes him a very appealing thinker for our time.

This paper takes its cue from Kierkegaard’s distinguished use of the name Climacus to investigate the historical and theological connections between himself and the original St. John Klimakos. As a disclaimer I would like to highlight the ‘preliminary’ part of the title. It is not the aim of this paper to be definitive in any sense; rather it aims at inspiring and grounding research at the historical and theological level concerning the relationship between Klimakos and Kierkegaard as well as the idea of a reading of Kierkegaard as an ascetic theologian for his time. May aim is to put the cards on the table and begin the process of sorting them out.

This paper will begin by exploring historical connections, tracing plausible lines of influence and the extent of Kierkegaard’s acquaintance with Klimakos and his writings. In the second part I will sketch Kierkegaard as an ascetic theologian through a reading of *Fear and Trembling*.

**IIA**

The best place to begin the historical investigation is to take a closer look at Klimakos and the prominent features of his writings that might merit claims of influence upon later figures. We will therefore focus on the nature and proliferation of his writings and the themes and concepts that make Klimakos unique in the ascetic tradition to which he belongs.

We begin by noting the important fact that *The Ladder of Divine Ascent* was originally titled *Spiritual Tablets* as the earliest texts suggest.^{[3]} This fragmentary title accords with the nature of *The Ladder* itself. It is not a work of formal theology comparable to Klimakos’ contemporary Maximus the Confessor. Rather it is composed of sayings and stories organized around themes in an otherwise scattered way. This randomness, however, has been shown to be more organized than a modern reader might detect, and, importantly, part of a methodological strategy Klimakos inherited from the ascetic tradition that, as Kallistos Ware notes, “[brings] his disciples to the point of crisis and confrontation, where they too will see for themselves,” and latter Ware describes the text as an “existential work, and only those who read it existentially will appreciate its true value.”^{[4]} *The Ladder* is held as a classic in Eastern Christianity partially due to its masterful rhetorical style, but also because *The Ladder* is a summa of the ascetic tradition of the East—which was by no means uniform. *The Ladder* is a dialectical text, bringing together different strands of ascetic thought and “allowing them to coalesce within his own vision.”^{[5]}

Although Klimakos is viewed as a mediator and summa of the Eastern ascetic tradition, as opposed to an iconoclast or innovator, his own summary of the tradition brings out common themes and concepts in novel ways. Along with the metaphor of a spiritual ascent, Klimakos’ most influential theological contribution is in his concept of joy-making mourning or sorrow (*charopoion penthos*). Klimakos’ thought is rightly termed a “spirituality of imperfection.”^{[6]} Especially in his doctrine of *penthos* (sorrow), Klimakos establishes the ascetic life not as a legalistic perfectionism, but rather as a wounded love reaching tirelessly and singularly for God. The theoretical basis of his asceticism is *kenotic* in the sense that the enemy is a false relation to the self, which must be removed or surrendered in order to reform into a radical relation to God. Klimakos does this by employing the language of ‘nature’ in a tri-fold narrative. The Christian life follows the movement and sometimes struggle of a person relative to three ‘natures’: a state “according to nature” (*kata physin*), a state “against nature” (*para physin*), and a state above nature (*hyper physin*).^{[7]} Klimakos’ description of this activity is fluid: we are never statically in one state but rather constantly struggling to allow one to emerge victorious over the other. The alignment of our ‘passions’ marks the distinctions between each state. In the state ‘against nature’ our passions have been turned toward “ends contrary to the good,” whereas in the state ‘according to nature’ our passions are controlled and employed toward their proper ends, and in the state ‘above nature’ our passions are reordered in such a way that we no longer struggle to apply them properly.

Yet Klimakos is almost anti-mystical in his discussion of dispassion, expressing a version of the doctrine of *epektasis* he says, “We shall never cease to advance in [virtue], either in the present or in the future life, continually adding light to light,”^{[8]} and moreover he stresses the highest correlation between humility and dispassion by saying, “Though you may have climbed the whole ladder of the virtues, pray for forgiveness of sins.”^{[9]} The ethical demand is relative to the life of God, so even the culmination of virtue, humanly-considered, still does not meet the infinite demand and we remain reliant on God’s grace. Klimakos thus frames the ascetic life as the interplay between repentance, sorrow, and humility. These three themes form the logical basis for ascetic practice.

In terms of the broad strokes it is suggested here that Kierkegaard and Klimakos have more in common than not. It is not the scope here to discuss at length every area of correlation but it is worth mentioning that Klimakos prominently highlights the themes of inwardness, spiritual direction, the necessity of persecution, and a hesychastic emphasis on silence and stillness as prayer—all of which Kierkegaard explicitly valued.^{[10]} Having thus laid out the most significant features of Klimakos’ work and influence for our purposes here, we move to look at Kierkegaard’s acquaintance with Klimakos and his world.

**IIB**

It is uncertain exactly how and to what degree Kierkegaard was acquainted with Klimakos. For one, the nature and extent of Klimakos’s influence in the West is difficult to grasp. We may reason from the manuscript tradition of *The Ladder* that Klimakos was, along with Pseudo-Macarius, the Cappadocians and Chrysostom, one of the most influential *spiritual* writers translated from the East.^{[11]} Translations of parts of *The Ladder* in the West appear as early as the 11^{th }century in a Florilegium. It is not fully translated until the 14^{th} century in Italy by Angelo Clareno circulating among the Franciscans and disseminating later among the Benedictines, Carthusians, Celestins and regular Canons.^{[12]} Jean Gerson explicitly mentions Klimakos on several occasions in his writings and even writes a commentary on *The Ladder*.^{[13]} Klimakos is influential upon such figures as Ruysbroeck in his *Ladder of Spiritual Love* and the Devotio Moderna movement especially in Gerard Zerbolt’s *Spiritual Ascents*.^{[14]} In respect to Klimakos’ influence on the Devotio Moderna it is also plausible that he influenced Thomas à Kempis’ *Imitation of Christ*. Even though Klimakos is not mentioned, it is not difficult to find thematic overlap and even rhetoric that is remarkably similar.^{[15]} The spiritual literature of the East had a particularly profound impact on the Pietist movement.^{[16]} Whereas texts such as the *Apophthegmata Patrum* and the Pseudo-Macarian *Homilies* enjoyed more popularity, *The Ladder* still appears to have been influential through proto-Pietist influences like Denis the Carthusian^{[17]} and Thomas à Kempis. We may thus see potential lines of influence from Klimakos in 7^{th} century Byzantium to Kierkegaard in 19^{th} century Denmark, especially through Kierkegaard’s now commonly accepted debt of influence to the Pietist and Moravian movements.

But in what respect was Kierkegaard directly acquainted with Klimakos? Howard and Edna Hong suggest that Kierkegaard discovered Klimakos in 1839 in W. M. L. DeWette’s work: *Laerebog i den christelige Sædelære [og sammes Historie]*.^{[18]} DeWette cites Klimakos in two footnotes, stemming from a discussion of the moral vision of the Patristic world.^{[19]} Among the other sources Kierkegaard used through his life for his knowledge of the Patristic world none of them mention Klimakos.^{[20]} Friedrich Böhringer makes the connection between Ruysbroec and the *Himmelsleiter*, but only in his second volume published in 1855: which Kierkegaard certainly did not read.^{[21]}

In the semi-auto-biographical work *Johannes Climacus* Kierkegaard mentions the Latin title *Scala Paradisi* in connection with the thought-system of the young Climacus.^{[22]} All references in Kierkegaard’s works to Klimakos or *The Ladder*, however, end there. Kierkegaard does mention Klimakos in the journals twice. The first is the well-known reference from 1839 to Hegel as a Johannes Climacus who “does not storm the heavens as do the giants. . . . but climbs up to them by means of his syllogisms.”^{[23]} In this reference we find the basis for the ‘Standard View’ that Kierkegaard chose the name as a useful metaphor for the Hegelianism he opposed.^{[24]}

The second reference comes in 1849 which states “The actual Johannes Climacus (author of *Scala Paradisi*) says: There are but few saints; if we wish to become saintly and saved, we must live as do the few.”^{[25]} Unfortunately Klimakos did not write this as much as Kierkegaard tried to emphasize that he did. In actuality this quote comes from Alphonsus Liguori, a spiritual writer whom Kierkegaard also admired.^{[26]} It is noteworthy, however, that 10 years after Kierkegaard first adopted the name Climacus he returns to the thought of the original Klimakos as a resource for his burgeoning polemic against Christendom. This reference also indicates that Kierkegaard had some nebulous acquaintance with *The Ladder* and its sayings, or at least he supposed he did.

Despite the fact that it appears that Kierkegaard was unfamiliar with *The Ladder* itself, there are a number of quotes in Kierkegaard’s works that sound similar to Klimakos’ writings. In *Fear and Trembling* Johannes de Silentio says “What does it mean to be God’s chosen? It is to be denied in youth one’s youthful desire in order to have it fulfilled with great difficulty in one’s old age,”^{[27]} And Klimakos writes, “Offer to Christ the labors of your youth, and in your old age you will rejoice in the wealth of dispassion.”^{[28]} In the first chapter of the *Gospel of Sufferings* Kierkegaard writes,

Indeed, why is it hardest of all to deny oneself if one lives alone and as though in a remote place? I wonder if it is not because a certain kind of refined self-love is also capable of apparently denying itself—when many people are watching admiringly.^{[29]}

And Klimakos writes, “It is worth investigating why those who live in the world and spend their life in vigils, fasts, labors and hardships, when they withdraw from the world and begin the monastic life, as if at some trial or on the practicing ground, no longer continue the discipline of their former spurious and sham asceticism.”^{[30]} Finally in the *Journals* Kierkegaard writes “And if Christ wont even let us follow him… we will nevertheless…go home to our family and native soil and proclaim the goodness of God…,”^{[31]} which communicates the exact idea Klimakos records in his fifth chapter,

Who knows, as our brothers the Ninevites said, if God will repent and will deliver us even from great punishment? In any case, let us do our part. And if he opens the door, well and good. And if not, blessed is the Lord God who, in his justice, has closed the door to us.^{[32]}

These are the closest examples (I could find) of what might appear to be quotes or paraphrasing of Klimakos’s writing. In other cases Kierkegaard mimics ideas that are characteristic of Klimakos. For instance, Kierkegaard’s connection of sorrow and joy in *The Gospel of Sufferings* in particular but also scattered throughout his corpus is one of the features of Klimakos’ writings that was most influential upon the Christian tradition.^{[33]} However similar the quotes and themes above may be, their dissimilarity also prohibits making strong judgments about Kierkegaard’s acquaintance with *The Ladder*, we can only say that enough affinity exists between these two writers to produce this kind of similarity.

This affinity with Klimakos’s *Ladder* is also affirmed by Kierkegaard’s overall attitude toward monasticism. On the one hand, he refers to monasticism as “the buoy at sea [to be looked at] to see where we are.”^{[34]} It represents the first stage of Christianity—its radical requirement, but not its essence. For Kierkegaard the higher criterion of Christianity was an honest introspection that leads the individual it, “admit candidly that such a life is too high for him and then rejoice as a child in the more lenient conditions, since ultimately grace is still the same for all.”^{[35]} On the other hand, Kierkegaard critiques monasticism for “externalizing what ought to be inward.”^{[36]} It can be a corrupting element of Christianity when it enters a relation to the public as the “criterion” instead of the “requirement” of Christianity. It could very easily lead to pride, and ultimately is a “situationless renunciation” whereas those who “suffer for the truth” had no need for [monastic] asceticism.^{[37]} Kierkegaard thus ultimately affirms the trajectory of the monastic worldview even though he thinks it falls short by not returning to the public sphere.

We get a sense, therefore, that the ascetic worldview, influenced in powerful ways by Klimakos in the East and West, is not irrelevant to Kierkegaard’s thought. Arguably, the opposite holds: Kierkegaard thinks of traditional monasticism as the right trajectory that simply came up short. I will argue here that Kierkegaard is rooted in the monastic worldview though geared toward public life. We move, therefore, to outline a reading of Kierkegaard as an ascetic theologian for the secular world.

**III**

*Fear and Trembling* has long been acknowledged as a multi-layered text. My aim here is to present in outline the refraction of ascetic theology implicit in the text. In *Concluding Unscientific Postscript* the Pseudonym Johannes Climacus praises monasticism for possessing authentic religious passion, but critiques it for not going far enough. It alleviates the internal suffering of self-doubt by using its isolation to create the illusion of perfection and in turn subtlely supports a system of merit. For Climacus what must happen for the fullest expression of Christianity is for the monk to emerge from the monastery and transplant his *ethos* into public life, transfiguring it into hidden inwardness. Climacus’s work, as Christopher Barnett points out, is Kierkegaard’s most sustained analysis of monasticism,^{[38]} yet I argue that we find these very ideas worked out and reflected upon three years earlier in *Fear and Trembling*.

In the “Preliminary Expectoration” Johannes de Silentio builds concepts upon his reflections on Abraham. What is interesting to Silentio about Abraham, as distinguished from other examples of child sacrifice in antiquity, is that Abraham should dare to desire Isaac back after resigning himself to the loss.^{[39]} So Silentio’s reflections upon Abraham distill two principal figures: the ‘Knight of Infinite Resignation’ (as reflected in Agamemnon and Jepthah) and the ‘Knight of Faith’ (as reflected in Abraham). The descriptions and interplay between these two figures roughly parallel Kierkegaard’s notion of monasticism as the Knight of Infinite Resignation, and his idea of true Christianity as the Knight of Faith.

The Knight of Infinite Resignation is the kind of attitude Silentio thinks he can accomplish. This knight resigns himself to the things he must lose in order to gain his ultimate good, whether it be what is good for the greater social order (as in Agamemnon) or simply to be obedient to a divine command. But this resignation for Silentio is final and he falls silent before Abraham who somehow makes this second movement of return. As Silentio says, “Abraham I cannot understand; in a certain sense I can learn nothing from him except to be amazed.” The themes of resignation and detachment are classic ascetic themes. Klimakos’s first three chapters—“Renunciation, Detachment, and Exile—are almost thematically indistinguishable meditations on the topic of resignation. It is, in fact, the hallmark of the ascetic tradition to call into question the legitimacy of our attachments and help us to reorient ourselves absolutely to God. Thus it is not difficult to see that Kierkegaard is adopting the trajectory of an ascetic worldview in his sketch of the Knight of Infinite Resignation.

By contrast, the Knight of Faith, like Abraham, is someone who has in one sense resigned himself to the joys of this world and yet he does so invisibly, returning back into the world and entertaining its association of relative ends like a “bourgeois philistine,” because, as Silentio describes, “I make…the movements of infinity, whereas faith makes the opposite movements: after having made the movements of infinity, it makes the movements of finitude.”^{[40]} Silentio’s description is brilliant:

The instant I first lay eyes on him, I set him apart at once; I jump back, clap my hands, and say half aloud, “Good Lord, is this the man, is this really the one—he looks just like a tax collector!”^{[41]}

Later, Silentio offers a formula for the Knight of Faith: “Absolutely to express the sublime in the pedestrian—only that knight can do it, and this is the one and only marvel.”^{[42]} Just as Climacus critiqued monasticism for not going far enough, Silentio also critiques the Knight of Infinite Resignation for not being able to take that second step. The Knight of Faith alone exhibits the proper kind of hidden inwardness that is able to pull the sacred and the secular together.

Therefore it is plausible to read *Fear and Trembling* as a development of the ascetic worldview for the public sphere—a task that Kierkegaard became increasingly interested in during his later years. During those years Kierkegaard called for a literal “return to the monastery” as a therapeutic break from an increasingly compromised Christendom. Yet for Kierkegaard the seclusion of institutional monasticism is never a final end for proper human existence. His vision for himself and for Christendom was as everyday people with the monastic mind inscribed onto their hearts. The Christian orients herself to the truth by looking to the monastery, she actualizes it by returning to her daily life, making sure to strike the balance between relating absolutely to the absolute *telos* and relatively to relative ends.

**IV**

Kierkegaard’s assessment and appropriation of ascetic theology generates a useful tension. On the one hand, his vague knowledge of Klimakos reflects his broader misunderstanding of ascetic theology. As Barnett points out, “Even as [monastic] figures envision a non-meritorious monasticism, so, in a sense, does Kierkegaard.”^{[43]} The inclination toward pride is the central focus of Klimakos’s ascetic resistance,^{[44]} and at every turn he emphasizes the futility of merely external asceticism.^{[45]} Moreover, Klimakos’s counsel tends to make Kierkegaard’s ideal Knight of Faith sound like a naïve optimism. Although Klimakos, along with the Desert Fathers, have some sense of the possibility of re-engaging with the world, his practicality and emphasis on a sober self-estimation leads him to reject the idea of a worldly ascetic as “like someone who is swimming and wants to clap his hands.”^{[46]} There will simply be too much conflict between the demands of the public sphere and the demands of the heart.

On the other hand, Kierkegaard is right to insist that a Christian life that does not somehow find redeemable value in the finite world or that remains hidden away from suffering for the truth cannot rightly be called Christian to the fullest extent. Therefore Kierkegaard’s reflections on monasticism and ascetic theology form an important starting point towards both conceptualizing ascetic theology in a philosophical grammar and discerning a vision for its appropriation in public life.

In this paper I have set out the basic contours of the historical and theological relationship between Kierkegaard and St. John Klimakos. Almost every historical connection I have unearthed deserves more extensive treatment before it can be substantiated. Likewise, the reading I have offered of Kierkegaard’s *Fear and Trembling* is an outline at best and needs to be fleshed out. If I have done enough to show these connections and interpretations to be plausible I will have satisfied the goals of this paper. It is my hope, however, that the possibility of an ascetic reading of Kierkegaard will be considered as an avenue for fruitful re-appropriation of his thought in terms of both theological research and practical ethics and spirituality.

1. It is remarkable that scholars on both sides (Kierkegaard and Klimakos) almost willfully ignore this connection. Many Kierkegaard scholars are happy to note the namesake and little more, whereas scholars of Klimakos make no reference to Kierkegaard whatsoever with the exception of a brief reflection in an unpublished dissertation. See Charles A. Braun, *Climbing the Ladder: The Early Christian Psychology of St. John Climacus, Hermit*. […]. For references to Kierkegaard scholarship on Klimakos see nii below. ↑
2. Howard V. Hong and Edna H. Hong, “Historical Introduction,” in *Philosophical Fragments* and *Johannes Climacus*; eds. and trans. Howard V. Hong and Edna H. Hong (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1985), ix. Cf. also Robert L. Perkins, ed. *International Kierkegaard Commentary:* “*Concluding Unscientific Postscript to ‘Philosophical Fragments’*,” vol. 12 (Macon, GA: Mercer University Press, 1997), 238. Beyond the ‘Standard View’ there is a short history of interpreting the relationship between Klimakos and Kierkegaard’s Climacus. Emmanuel Hirsch rejected any meaningful connection between Kierkegaard and the name Climacus, describing it as “quite external and contingent.” [Hirsch reference]. ↑
3. See John Duffy, “Embellishing the Steps: Elements of Presentation and Style in ‘The Heavenly Ladder’ of John Climacus,” *Dumbarton Oaks Papers* 53 (1999): 1-17. ↑
4. Kallistos Ware, “Introduction” in *The Ladder of Divine Ascent*; trans. Colm Luibheid and Norman Russell (Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 1982), 8, 9. ↑
5. Jonathan L. Zecher, “Sinai and John Climacus,” in *The Orthodox Christian World*; ed. Augustine Casiday (New York: Routledge, 2012), 259. ↑
6. See John Chryssavgis, “A Spirituality of Imperfection: The Way of Tears in St. John Climacus,” *Cistercian Studies Quarterly* 37.4 (2002): 359-71; Jonathan Zecher also notes that Climacus “opens up progress through failure as a path of angelic imitation. . . .” See Jonathan L. Zecher, “The Angelic Life in Desert and Ladder: John Climacus’s Re-Formulation of Ascetic Spirituality,” *Journal of Early Christian Studies* 21.1 (2013): 136. ↑
7. For references to the language of ‘nature’ see: *The Ladder*, 1.4; 15.7, 71. Cf. also, Chryssavgis, *John Climacus*, 51-2. ↑
8. *The Ladder*, 26.153. For a good reference to the doctrine of *epektasis* in particular and Gregory of Nyssa’s formulation and subsequent influence on the development of the doctrine see especially: Louth*, Origins of the Christian Mystical Tradition*, 80-97; and the introduction in Gregory Nyssa, *The Life of Moses*; ed. and trans. Everett Ferguson and Abraham Malherbe (Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 1978), 1-24. ↑
9. *The Ladder*, 28.13. ↑
10. Kierkegaard’s concept of inwardness in terms of both true appropriation as well as self-representation is well-known. See […]. Kierkegaard was interested in the notion of submitting oneself to a spiritual guide as expressed in the *Imitatio Christi* (*JP* 3, 2691), but found it impossible due to a lack of sufficient guides. See Joel D.S. Rasmussen, “Thomas a Kempis: *Devotio Moderna* and Kierkegaard’s critique of ‘Bourgeois-Philistinism’,” in *Kierkegaard and the Patristic and Medieval Traditions*, ed. Jon Stewart (Burlington, VT: Ashgate Publishing, 2008), 292. On Kierkegaard’s emphasis on persecution see […]. On Kierkegaard’s concept of silence/stillness (with an explicit connection to Klimakos) see: Ziolkowski, *The Literary Kierkegaard*, ###. Cf. also Perry D. LeFevre, ed. and trans. *The Prayers of Kierkegaard* (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1956), esp. 196-226. ↑
11. Jean Gribomont, “La Scala Paradisi, Jean de Raithou et Ange Clareno,” *Studia Monastica* 2 (1960): 345-58. See also Charles L. Stinger, *Humanism and the Church Fathers: Ambrogio Traversari (1386-1439) and Christian Antiquity in the Italian Renaissance* (Albany, NY: State of New York Press, 1977), esp. 126. ↑
12. Ibid 356. It is noteworthy that the poor quality of the Latin translation of Angelo Clareno hindered the influence of *The Ladder*, and it was the Italian translation that inspired the various orders and supported the influence of *The Ladder* beyond Italy. ↑
13. See Daniel Hobbins, “A Rediscovered Work of Jean Gerson on a Spiritual Classic: *Admontio super librum qui dicitur Clymachus de xxx gradibus perfectionis* (c. 1396-1400).” *Traditio* 66 (2011): 231-66. ↑
14. Cf. VZ, “Zerbolt, Gerard van Zutphen,” *Deutsches Literatur-Lexikon*, 628; and Karl Ruh, “Zerbolt, Gerard von Zutphen,” in *Die Deutsches Literatur Das Mittelalters Verfasserlexikon* 10. 14 vols. (Berlin: DeGruyter, ####), 1541. ↑
15. Cf. for instance, Thomas à Kempis, *Imitatio Christi*, trans. Joseph N. Tylenda (New York: Vintage Books, 1998), 19: “Act with courage, for habit is broken by habit,” with *The Ladder* 5.1: “Repentance is reconciliation with the Lord by the practice of good deeds contrary to the sins.” Cf. also *Imitatio Christi*, 14-15 (19): “It is difficult to give up old habits, and still more difficult to go against one’s own will. . . . Resist your inclination and break off that bad habit; otherwise, little by little, it will lead you into greater problems,” with *The Ladder* 5.30: “Do not be surprised that you fall every day; do not give up, but stand your ground courageously. And assuredly, the angel who guards you will honor your patience. While a wound is still fresh and warm, it is easy to heal; but old, neglected and festering ones are hard to cure, and require for their care much treatment, cutting, plastering and cauterization.” The similarity between these two quotes should be taken as suggestive about the influence of Klimakos on Thomas à Kempis given the similarity of ascetic themes discussed in their respective works. ↑
16. Johan Arndt reproduces entire passages of the Macarian *Homilies* in *De Vero Christiano* and *Paradiesgartlein*, and Pierre Poiret referred to the Macarian Homilies as “the whole of mystical theology.” See Pseudo-Macarius, *The Fifty Spiritual Homilies*, trans. George A. Maloney (Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 1992), 24. ↑
17. Denis the Carthusian produced a commentary on *The Ladder* among other spiritual texts from the East. See Peter Erb, *Pietists, Protestants, and Mysticism: The Use of Late Medieval Spiritual Texts in the Work of Gottfried Arnold* (1666-1714) (Metuchen, NJ: Scarecrow Press, 1989), 142. ↑
18. Howard V. Hong and Edna H. Hong, “Historical Introduction,” n2. ↑
19. W. M. L. De Wette, *Laerebog i den christelige Sædelære og sammes Historie*; trans. C. E. Scharling (Copenhagen: 1835), 135, 138, 139. ↑
20. Kierkegaard’s Patristic Sources ↑
21. Bohringer, *Die Kirche Christi*, vol. 2.3:543. ↑
22. *JC*, 118. ↑
23. *JP* II 1575 (*Pap.* II A 335). ↑
24. See note i above ↑
25. *JP* VI 6362 (*Pap.* X A 151). ↑
26. Alphonsus de Liguori, *Selected Writings*; ed. Frederick M. Jones, C. SS. R. (Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 1999), 144. ↑
27. *FT* 18. ↑
28. *Ladder*, 1.24. ↑
29. *UDVS*, 223. ↑
30. *Ladder*, 2.6. ↑
31. *Journals* DD 193. ↑
32. *Ladder*, 5.18. ↑
33. Compare *UDVS*, 232; *WA*, 41; [Essential Kierkegaard, 392] with *Ladder*, 7.1, 9, and compare *PF*, 19 with *Ladder*, 7.1, 22; 29.11. ↑
34. *JP* 2750. ↑
35. *JP* 174. ↑
36. *JP* 2749. ↑
37. *JP* 178. ↑
38. Christopher B. Barnett, *Kierkegaard, Pietism and Holiness* (Burlington, VT: Ashgate Publishing, 2011), 138. ↑
39. *FT*, 35 “For if I had gotten Isaac again, I would have been in an awkward position. What was the easiest for Abraham would have been difficult for me—once again to be happy in Isaac!” ↑
40. Ibid., 38. ↑
41. Ibid., 39-40. ↑
42. Ibid., 41. ↑
43. Barnett, *Kierkegaard, Pietism, and Holiness*, 137. ↑
44. *The Ladder*, 25.8 (cf. step 23). ↑
45. Ibid., 1.17; 2.6. Indeed, the whole chapter on vainglory (22) reveals Klimakos’s deep psychological perception into the way in which our outward show influences our interior self-esteem (pride) and necessitates the need for interiority. ↑
46. Ibid., 6.11. ↑