You’re standing on a cliff. Not a literal one, maybe, but that stomach-dropping realization that life doesn’t actually make sense. Most of us try to fill that gap with logic, or career goals, or maybe just a really expensive espresso machine. But Soren Kierkegaard—the 19th-century Danish philosopher with the famously messy hair—had a different idea. He called it the movement of faith.
It’s not just "believing in stuff."
Honestly, it’s much weirder and more terrifying than that. Most people think faith is a safety net. For Kierkegaard, it was more like jumping off the cliff and believing, somehow, that you’ll land on your feet back at home.
What is the Movement of Faith exactly?
To understand this, you’ve gotta look at Kierkegaard’s book Fear and Trembling. He wrote it under the pseudonym Johannes de Silentio. Johannes is obsessed with the story of Abraham and Isaac. You know the one: God tells Abraham to sacrifice his only son, and Abraham actually goes to do it.
Most of us look at that and think, "That’s insane." Johannes agrees. He says if you look at it through the lens of ethics, Abraham is a murderer. Period. But if you look at it through the movement of faith, something else is happening.
There are actually two parts to this "double movement."
First, there is infinite resignation. This is when you give up everything. You realize that you cannot control the world. You let go of the thing you love most—your child, your dream, your health—and you reconcile yourself to the pain. You say, "Fine, I lose it all." This makes you a "Knight of Infinite Resignation." It’s noble. It’s stoic. It’s also incredibly sad.
📖 Related: Finding the Right Words: Quotes About Sons That Actually Mean Something
But then comes the second part. The crazy part.
The true Knight of Faith makes the move of repetition. After giving everything up, they believe by virtue of the absurd that they will get it all back in this life. Not in some fuzzy "heaven" later on, but right here. Abraham didn't just resign himself to losing Isaac; he believed he would get Isaac back.
The Knight of Faith looks... normal?
Here is the kicker. You’d think a Knight of Faith would have a glowing halo or at least a very intense stare. Nope.
Kierkegaard says the Knight of Faith looks exactly like a tax collector or a bourgeois shopkeeper. They enjoy their dinner. They take a walk in the park. They are fully present in the finite world. They don't look like "spiritual" people who are always gazing at the clouds.
They’ve done the work of infinite resignation, so they know the world is fragile. But they live in it joyfully anyway because they’ve made the movement of faith. They belong to the world because they’ve given it up and received it back as a gift.
It’s about the "teleological suspension of the ethical." That’s a fancy way of saying sometimes your personal relationship with the Absolute (God, or whatever you want to call that ultimate reality) takes precedence over the "universal" rules of society. It’s a lonely, private, and silent path.
👉 See also: Williams Sonoma Deer Park IL: What Most People Get Wrong About This Kitchen Icon
Why this is so hard for us today
We live in an age of "evidence." We want data. We want a five-step plan for happiness. Kierkegaard would hate our Instagram feeds.
The movement of faith is fundamentally non-rational. It’s not "irrational" (like 2+2=5); it’s "suprarational." It exists in a space where logic simply can't reach. If you can explain your faith with a logical argument, Kierkegaard would say it isn't faith. It’s just a conclusion.
Faith requires passion. It requires that "leap" into the unknown.
Key differences you should know:
- The Tragic Hero: This person gives up their personal desire for the sake of the "Universal" (like a king sacrificing his daughter to save his country). We can understand them. We can weep for them.
- The Knight of Faith: This person does something that the Universal cannot justify. They can’t explain themselves to anyone. They are essentially alone in their paradox.
How to actually apply this (Sorta)
You can't "study" your way into the movement of faith. It’s a lived experience. It usually starts with what Kierkegaard calls "angst" or "dread." That feeling that your life is a series of choices and you are responsible for all of them.
Instead of running from that dread, Kierkegaard suggests leaning into it.
1. Identify your "Infinite Resignation"
What are you holding onto so tightly that it defines you? Your status? A specific relationship? Try to reach a point where you can imagine losing it and still being "you." This isn't about being cynical; it's about finding an internal peace that doesn't depend on external stuff.
✨ Don't miss: Finding the most affordable way to live when everything feels too expensive
2. Embrace the Absurd
Once you've "let go," don't become a monk in a cave. Come back to your life. Drink your coffee. Do your laundry. But do it with the belief that these small, finite things are infinitely valuable.
3. Stop looking for "The System"
We often wait for a sign or a perfect philosophy to tell us what to do. Kierkegaard’s whole point was that "the system" doesn't exist for the individual. You have to make the move yourself. It’s a subjective truth. It belongs to you and no one else.
The movement of faith is a constant process. You don't just "do it" once and you're done. You're constantly falling and leaping, constantly resigning and regaining. It’s exhausting. It’s also the only way, according to Soren, to truly be a human being.
If you’re feeling the weight of the world, maybe stop trying to think your way out of it. Start moving.
Next Steps for Deepening Your Understanding:
- Read the Source: Pick up a copy of Fear and Trembling. Skip the introduction if it’s too dry and go straight to the "Preamble from the Heart."
- Audit Your Anxiety: Spend ten minutes sitting in silence without a phone. Notice the "dread" of existence. Don't fix it; just notice it.
- Practice Repetition: Choose one mundane task today—like washing dishes—and try to do it with the "joy of the Knight of Faith," as if you are receiving the ability to do that task back from the universe itself.