Pious Nietzsche: Decadence and Dionysian Faith

by Bruce Ellis Benson

Bruce Ellis Benson puts forward the surprising idea that Nietzsche was never a godless nihilist, but was instead deeply religious. But how does Nietzsche affirm life and faith in the midst of decadence and decay? Benson looks carefully at Nietzsche's life history and views of three decadents, Socrates, Wagner, and Paul, to come to grips with his pietistic turn. Key to this understanding is Benson's interpretation of the powerful effect that Nietzsche thinks music has on the human spirit. Benson claims that Nietzsche's improvisations at the piano were emblematic of the Dionysian or frenzied, ecstatic state he sought, but was ultimately unable to achieve, before he descended into madness. For its insights into questions of faith, decadence, and transcendence, this book is an important contribution to Nietzsche studies, philosophy, and religion.

Genres: Philosophy, Nonfiction, Theology

296 pages, Paperback

First published December 1, 2007

About the author

Dr. Benson has been a visiting scholar at the New School and a guest lecturer in philosophy of religion at Union Theological Seminary. He is currently the chair of the philosophy department at Wheaton College (IL).

Reviews

[Giovanni Generoso · Rating 5 out of 5]

In this insightful book, Dr. Benson seeks to reveal the deeply religious life of Friedrich Nietzsche. Religious life of Nietzsche, you ask? Yes, indeed, Nietzsche was deeply religious. He was raised in a very Pietistic, Lutheran home. And even once he gave up that faith, he only converted to a new religion—rather than give up on life and revert to pessimistic nihilism, as is so commonly thought. After leaving his Lutheran upbringing (and let nobody think that Nietzsche was ignorant of Christian theology—he studied it at a very early age and was called the “young pastor” as a boy for his religious zeal), his God was no longer Jesus, but Dionysus; His hope was no longer eternal life, but eternal recurrence; His confession was no longer amor patris (love of Father), but amor fati (love of Fate). In short, Nietzsche no longer loved the invisible Being that we call God. He thought there was too little love in the world to waste it on invisible Beings. Instead, he sought to love this world, the whole world, that which he could see with his eyes and touch with his hands. He gave up dreams of after-life, heaven, eternal bliss; and, instead, sought to be content with this-worldly joy. It is therefore important to see Nietzsche’s turning away from Christianity not as an evacuation of religion, but rather as a relocation of his religious fervency within a this-worldly, immanent sphere—as opposed to traditional religious confessions of an other-world.

He criticized Platonic thought for inventing the “World of the Forms” as a means of escape from this world, as a way to ignore this world—even hate this world. Plato, he thought, hated this world so much—with all of its particulars and fluctuation—that he had to invent “unchanging forms” or “ideals” in the sky, a “real world” where nothing changes, where there is no flux, where everything is Reasonable. Plato thus thought that this world in which we live is a matrix, a false world, a shadow of the real. Plato despised the senses, and called the body a “prison of the soul.” One day, Plato thought, if we fight our senses hard enough, and contemplate the Forms, our soul will break free from our body and join the eternal Forms where it belongs. In Nietzsche’s mind, Plato therefore undermined the world he so dearly loved, ignoring it, suppressing it, trying to undermine and fight it. Christians simply took Plato’s “World of the Forms” and called it heaven; it’s the same framework, just different terms. Christians, too, hate the body—we call it the “flesh”—and seek to get out of our body and one day, if only we suppress our natural desires enough, go to heaven and be free from our bodies here on earth. Because of all of these things, Nietzsche hated Christianity and Platonism with a passion. He also hated artists who use their music as a means of seeking “redemption from” this world; Nietzsche thought that we all ought to affirm this world, say “Yes” to this world, be life-affirmers, not life-deniers. Religion, art, and philosophy have, for the longest time, been fundamentally life-denying, dreaming up visions of redemption from this world (with heaven, or the Forms, or whatever else we’ve conjured up). It’s time for the trans-valuation of values, Nietzsche thought. It’s time to be life-affirmers.

Ultimately, Benson thinks Nietzsche couldn’t reach his goal of overcoming decadence. He couldn’t be a life-affirmer. There was a lot that Nietzsche despised, resented—Christianity and Platonism as two examples. In the end, he could not love fate, as he so desperately strived to do. He could not say “Yes” to everything. He, too, sought redemption from life—in his own ways. Still, I think Nietzsche was right in his critiques of religion and philosophy. So much of Christianity simply masks its hatred of this world by spiritualizing “heaven” and “sanctification” as virtues. I think Nietzsche was right that we shouldn’t be life-deniers. We should love this world—the good, the bad, the ugly. I think that’s the love of God. God says “Yes” to this world in Christ. All of the promises of God find their “Yes” in Christ (1 Cor. 1:20).

[Joshua Casteel]

Interesting Wheatie who hails from the Louvain and Husserlian phenomenology.